you're in the jungle, baby / you gonna die

[lucetimods]

Who: All draftees
What: Fighting the Third Party... and perhaps the wildlife.
When: June 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th. (Characters will be pulled out at 11:59 of the 6th.)
Where: An as-yet unmapped by the Malnosso tropical rainforest.
Summary: Here are your details. Try to stay alive, won't you?
Rating: Anywhere from PG to R.

No cut for you. Most of you will know how this works by now; if you don't, follow the lead of the others, or perhaps look to the last draft's fighting post for ideas. Don't forget to use your handy dandy character tags. Go forth and conquer thine enemies!

Comments

[herotypical]

Is that... [ an invitation?

she swallows the question and straightens what little hair had come free of the braid in the fall. ] So -- what? Your plan is to deliver me back to camp and tie me to Bones' apron strings? Nuh-uh.

[all7seas]

[It was definitely an invitation. He tugs at her arm, trying to do that very drag-to-the-hospital thing that she doesn't want.]

Buffy, if you continue to resist my eye-wisdom, I shall hypowhatsit you in your sleep and tie you, there's a good girl.

[herotypical]

...Hyposprays don't work on me. [ she BLUFFS. she actually has no idea -- although it takes a significant amount of tranquilizer to take a slayer out. it's still an experiment she doesn't want to try out.

she also stands very steadily. in place. resisting his tugs. ]

his face IS creepy. O_o

[paintedpirate.livejournal.com]

Annie? I promise: when you are not so compromised, I'll let you run free in the jungle as much as you like. Tigers. Jaguars. Snakes. Flesh-eating insects. It can all be yours. Now? Now I want you in one piece.

[He has stopped tugging, though. Instead he releases her and places the orchid in her hair.]

yes. yes it is.

[herotypical]

[ it'll be about the only dash of colour in this outfit -- she won't refuse it.

she does a very good job at not swaying. still...she argues: ] I'll sit guard with you first, for a bit. Then we can go back.

[ the truth of the matter is that she's too tired to make the walk to camp. ]

[paintedpirate.livejournal.com]

You will, will you. Alright. [He vaults easily back onto the fallen tree, looking back down at her.] Come on, then. Mustn't keep the King waiting.

[herotypical]

[ untroubled by the feat, she follows. ]

I don't see a crown.

[paintedpirate.livejournal.com]

Golden crowns do not kings make. I think someone famous said that once, in ancient-ish times. Besides, the Pelegosto don't crown their kings; they take their skin off, one strip at a time.

[He settles down on his log once more, flicking away several beetles wandering along the top.]

[herotypical]

...I fought a demon who did that, once. A Gnarl. [ jack should expect these sorts of alarming parallels from here on out. it's part of the buffy package.

at least she isn't telling him about how she killed it. thumbs in eye sockets. unpleasant. ] Sounds like the short end of the stick, this king job.

[all7seas]

At the time? It was the best alternative I had. Sit? [He pats the patch of log beside him, and then apparently changes his mind and mischievously pats his lap.]

[herotypical]

[ lap it is, then. gladly. there might even be a certain amount of full-on arms around the pirate's neck. and a dangerously comfortable amount of cozying. ]

Why?

[all7seas]

Because grounding the Pearl and sitting on their highly macabre and human-remains-ornamented throne was still better than facing the Kraken, Annie.

[Far too dangerous, this cozying, in times of war. Also? Probably far too humid. Jack holds her anyway. What can really happen to them on this tree, so close to the hospital camp?]

[herotypical]

[ but he ended up facing it anyway? some lesser-of-two-evils gambit. ]

When the going gets tough...[ she trails off. too many little idioms and platitudes and empty words. they're easy to hide behind. ] You know what? It's official. Cannibals are creepier than vampires.

[all7seas]

[He touches the flower in her hair, briefly.]

Cannibals are only human, lass; and sometimes they're the scariest of all. So---aye. I agree.

[herotypical]

[ there is always something quite worse about the things that a human could inflict upon another human. something beyond the horror of an undead thing.

she yawns; humidity be damned, she curls close. one hand settles heavily on his chest -- directly above the locket. ]

[all7seas]

[Jack covers her hand with his own, while keeping one arm around her firmly.]

You're not wanting that back, are you, Sleepy?

[herotypical]

What? No.

[ other priorities, after all. even if the general does show -- she has a house-guest to look after back home. ] Not yet.

[all7seas]

Not yet, then. [Inwardly, Jack is breathing a huge sigh of relief. There was still more time, then, for them. It didn't have to all come crashing to the ground just yet. He presses his lips against her forehead.]

You aren't dressed particularly jungle-like, are you, Annie.

[herotypical]

Cargo pants. [ apparently this is an adequate enough argument. ]

Why? [ a more awake buffy would not be asking this. ] What would be more jungle-chic appropriate?

[all7seas]

Would be more jungle-appropriate if......leather dress? And your face, love. Something's got to be done about it.

[herotypical]

At no point do the words leather, dress and appropriate all belong in the same sentence.

And I'm not looking to join the wisdom-circus. [ she can see this conversational track as clear as day.

but...there's a precedent here. and important one. temporary tattoos and eyeliner and potentially, now, war-paint? ]

[paintedpirate.livejournal.com]

Here, love. [Just a whisper as the pirate swipes a thumb across his cheek before brushing it along her cheekbones---a wisp of red war paint.]

Much more better.

[herotypical]

[ she holds her breath as the paint transaction takes place. there is a spark and crackle that had been...not missing, but covered up. shaded.

buffy pushes past the insidious exhaustion and sits up -- seeking eye-level with him. ]

We'll meet here again, when the sun sets.

[paintedpirate.livejournal.com]

You'd meet back up in the dark night jungle with a fearsome and deadly-ish Cannibal King?

Brave thing, you, Annie. [He raises her hand from his chest to his cheek, making sure to imprint at least some of that thickly-spread paint there.]

[herotypical]

[ her palm quickly conforms to the line of his face, a finger tip smoothing out a rougher line of paint. she is always cleaning him up; he's always adding finishing touches to her. decorating. that's the word that comes to mind -- not dirtying. the difference, she realizes, it novel. and important. ]

I think I might be able to rustle up some mock-fear for the occasion.