ceci n'est pas une combate // lucas vs lobster telephone

[lance]

Thirsty.

He was so goddamned thirsty.

He'd wandered for what seemed like hours, the voices of Wylla and Riven and Eva having abruptly cut off ever since he'd fallen into - fallen through? - the puddle. He'd wandered long enough for the squish squish squish of the damp forest floor to transform into the crunch crunch crunch that oddly sounded like what he would expect from pebbles or sand.

Whatever the case, he was thirsty. And not in the usual sense, either.

The cloth had come with one major detriment, at least, if you didn't count the obscuring of his sight, either. No matter what he attempted, whether it was from the yellow canteen he had drawn way back on the first day or the strange drink he had picked up after falling through the puddle, not one drop could penetrate his clothy confines and relieve his parched throat.

How ironic, then, that given all of his sexual encounters, he would end up dying of thirst.

Eventually, legs gave way, and a body wracked with malnutrition and exhausted from being chased by giant mutts could go no further, and he passed out.

---

He woke sometime later to a sharp pain in his right arm.

A cry of pain erupted from a throat dry with lack of liquids before he was truly conscious, and slowly, lethargically, he got to his feet. A quick examination of his arm revealed that, there was, in fact, something attached to it.

Oh, lovely.

His left arm fumbled for his tote bag, unzipping it and grabbing one of the knives that he had drawn the previous day, knives that were thankfully still whole and unmelted.

And as he threw towards the lump on his arm, through a haze brought on by poor sleep and poorer nutrition, he could swear he heard the sound of a telephone ringing.

alright let's do this

lucas coaxes one of the two lobster telephones to latch onto his right arm for +5 damage by being asleep and unthreatening

lucas attacks 1. himself/2. the second lobster telephone
XMnRNjfI1-2
the lobster telephone

with a throwing knife
throwing knife
9029 -- Knife Deep in Calf -- 8.5 damage

1-2�throwing knife

[sbeeg]

Mr. & Mrs. Nokia

They clambered their way through this interesting wasteland- of creatures in shiny and often not there clothing. Hearing sounds from far away, voices that longed to connect with others- but alas the Nokias had not found a master yet. No one to connect these voices to. That is until they spotted one- a master of their very own.

One of these odd creatures was lying- simply asleep. The Nokias had been wandering all over the Arena looking for someone to call master, to help and work for and here they finally had their chance.

But only one of them could claim the creature.

Without much warning, Mr. Nokia slipped forward clamping down on the creature's arm.

Mrs. Nokia seethed with rage. They were to find masters together and now she had been abandoned! She wanted to connect voices from near and far and now she might never live up to her purpose!

Her now ex-husband's new master threw a blade at her, cracking her shell and sinking into her flesh.

Boiling with anger, she swung her pinchers forward- for if she couldn't have a master no one would.


[Mrs. Nokia the lobster telephone attacks Lucas]
Wd9Bl5O5knife
[Stabbed in Forearm -- 8.5 damage]

knife

[lance]

There was a loud CRACK, followed by an indignant RING.

And he was thoroughly confused.

What kind of mutt ring-AGH!

In his momentary lapse, the thing - whatever it was - had pierced through skin and drawn blood, sending a wave of pain greater than the first through his system.

"FUCK"!

The cry was loud, involuntary, and probably alerted every living thing within a half mile radius to his presence, but at the moment, he couldn't give two fucks, for his arm hurt like a motherfucker.

And clearly, whatever had decided to have dried O'Hara meat for lunch was durable enough to withstand one knife breaking through whatever exterior it possessed.

Anger sparked through him suddenly, bright and hot from within his core.

This wasn't how he had planned to die, blindfolded and repeatedly stabbed to death by a mutt that rang.

A second knife was withdrawn from his bag, and as he fumbled with the drawn weapon, his mind wandered back to the thought that had occupied it for the last several hours.

Damn, he was so, so thirsty.

Round two here we go dab

lucas attacks 1. himself/2. Mrs. Nokia
O9JI6ko|1-2
Mrs. Nokia

with a throwing knife
throwing knife
9132 -- Shallow Cut on Stomach -- 4.0 damage

1-2�throwing knife