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WHAT: Action log to drag Peeta out of the mess he's in.
WHO: Whoever wants in!
WHEN/WHERE: The Dark Hour, inside a seemingly endless passenger train.
The train was fancy at one point, but now it's just unsettling, the wood-paneled walls covered in bloody designs that range from scribbles to detailed paintings. There are a multitude of compartments, some of them significantly more dangerous and... occupied than others.
Every car shows signs of damage, from overturned tables and splintered chairs to shredded sheets and down pillows. It's a mess, and doesn't make for easy going.
If one were to keep going, however, they would eventually come to a dining car that shows less damage than the previous ones. Not for lack of effort, though. The yellow-eyed version of the boys has started on the mirrors already, chatting gleefully to his counterpart across the car. Peeta is curled up on one of the seats, his back facing the Shadow, focusing on whatever is moving past the train windows.
"They did forget, didn't they? Well, it's not as though that wasn't expected. It won't be long now, anyway." The cuts that were originally confined to his fingers have now spread all over the Shadow's body, staining his clothes in his search for more 'ink'. Oddly enough, this doesn't seem to have effected his health any, besides the obvious surface damage.
Peeta looks to be handling it worse; though the blood on his knuckles is long dry, he seems to be lying down more out of exhaustion than irritation. This only amuses the Shadow further.
"But that's just what we wanted, isn't it?" He grins, displaying a split lip. For some reason, it doesn't look quite like the other cuts.
The voice that responds is hoarse, but still firm. "You have no idea what I want."
"Of course I do. I'm the only one that really knows. Although..." he turns to face the rescue team, agitation mixing with his amusement. "It seems that certain others haven't caught on. Come to tell me who I am again? Or... do you have something more in mind?"
WHO: Whoever wants in!
WHEN/WHERE: The Dark Hour, inside a seemingly endless passenger train.
The train was fancy at one point, but now it's just unsettling, the wood-paneled walls covered in bloody designs that range from scribbles to detailed paintings. There are a multitude of compartments, some of them significantly more dangerous and... occupied than others.
Every car shows signs of damage, from overturned tables and splintered chairs to shredded sheets and down pillows. It's a mess, and doesn't make for easy going.
If one were to keep going, however, they would eventually come to a dining car that shows less damage than the previous ones. Not for lack of effort, though. The yellow-eyed version of the boys has started on the mirrors already, chatting gleefully to his counterpart across the car. Peeta is curled up on one of the seats, his back facing the Shadow, focusing on whatever is moving past the train windows.
"They did forget, didn't they? Well, it's not as though that wasn't expected. It won't be long now, anyway." The cuts that were originally confined to his fingers have now spread all over the Shadow's body, staining his clothes in his search for more 'ink'. Oddly enough, this doesn't seem to have effected his health any, besides the obvious surface damage.
Peeta looks to be handling it worse; though the blood on his knuckles is long dry, he seems to be lying down more out of exhaustion than irritation. This only amuses the Shadow further.
"But that's just what we wanted, isn't it?" He grins, displaying a split lip. For some reason, it doesn't look quite like the other cuts.
The voice that responds is hoarse, but still firm. "You have no idea what I want."
"Of course I do. I'm the only one that really knows. Although..." he turns to face the rescue team, agitation mixing with his amusement. "It seems that certain others haven't caught on. Come to tell me who I am again? Or... do you have something more in mind?"
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