Cedric Diggory (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theboywhodied) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92011-12-24 01:57 pm
theboywhodied) wrote in trans_92011-12-24 01:57 pm
Entry tags:
Dashing through the rubble
At times, Cedric has visions of gnawing his own arm off. He's not desperately hungry yet, but he's getting close to it. Being trapped in the City with no access to the slop is a recipe for disaster, after all, and he definitely can't hold out for another few hours. It's time to move while he still has the strength to.
It's a route filled with danger. Without any sort of Muggle firearms training, he only protection he has is his speed and a pile of rocks for throwing and swinging---that, and an improvised club, like the one he'd once taught new players on the Quidditch team to use. The useless wand still sits in a holster on his sleeve, as he can't bear to let that piece of his past go.
He crouches in the doorway, reminding himself that he has two choices: risk it all to survive or die. And the death if he's unlucky will be quicker than starvation. With that pleasant thought at the forefront of his mind, he runs and hopes he lucks out. That possible food storage is maybe six blocks away if he's read the map correctly. He has---but he's not lucky. A line of robots is marching down the street, right in his path.
The only choice is to run, dashing over and pushing over some unstable rubble. Maybe the rolling rocks will trip up the robots he's so desperately evading.
It's a route filled with danger. Without any sort of Muggle firearms training, he only protection he has is his speed and a pile of rocks for throwing and swinging---that, and an improvised club, like the one he'd once taught new players on the Quidditch team to use. The useless wand still sits in a holster on his sleeve, as he can't bear to let that piece of his past go.
He crouches in the doorway, reminding himself that he has two choices: risk it all to survive or die. And the death if he's unlucky will be quicker than starvation. With that pleasant thought at the forefront of his mind, he runs and hopes he lucks out. That possible food storage is maybe six blocks away if he's read the map correctly. He has---but he's not lucky. A line of robots is marching down the street, right in his path.
The only choice is to run, dashing over and pushing over some unstable rubble. Maybe the rolling rocks will trip up the robots he's so desperately evading.