Venus Dee Milo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
celebrityskinned) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-01-26 03:15 am
celebrityskinned) wrote in thearena2014-01-26 03:15 am
Entry tags:
Just Look at How Close We Are [Closed]
WHO| Venus and any Amis who want to join in, but especially Courfeyrac.
WHAT| Venus sends a message to all her Sponsors, and then goes to find an ally.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Fourth floor.
WARNINGS| Mentions of Venus' injuries.
The gift shop has cheap, themed makeup; Venus grabs a Brainiac Green and a Vakarian Gunmetal in eyeshadow. She considers a Vantas' Blood lipgloss, then decides that she needs something a little more demure and selects one titled 'Lottie'. It's a watery pink so thin it's practically nude on Venus' lips. Thankfully, there's foundation in her skin tone.
It all looks like a joke on her ghastly face. Kankri did the best he could with the stitches, but even the most skilled plastic surgeon couldn't have kept Venus from looking completely mutilated. While mercifully uninfected, the gash bisecting her across the nose is deep and ugly and jagged, and the sutures look comically Frankensteinish. The right side of her head has gone from purple to a vomitous yellow tone, and the fading black eye looks almost slate grey. She has a distinct limp now, and when she stands one side of her body sags at the knee.
She uses only a little makeup, just enough to hide some of the worst bruising and give her eyes a little extra glitter. It's her charisma that, she hopes, will draw her beauty out from under the gore, that will make her painful to look at and yet easy enough to swallow that she doesn't have to be edited down to a mere clip.
She spends almost an hour finding the right spot, trying to analyze where she would put a camera if she were trying to get the best view of the action. When she finds a location with good lighting, she takes a seat and, looking in the direction she hopes is straight-on to a viewer, starts speaking. Her hands are in her lap.
"I hope that everyone in the Capitol knows how grateful I am for your support. Timaeus, Enjolras, Azula, and all my anonymous Sponsors - without you I would be dead, but." She waves a hand at her maimed face. "You know what they say about the stars and plastic surgery. I guess I'm not too young to go under the knife."
She doesn't let herself become distracted while she talks. She delivers her statements directly forward, making eye contact with people she can't see, smiling even as it tugs at the edges of her wound.
"It's strange, doing all this inside a museum. You might even say it's ironic, you know, laying all us down to die at the feet of history. I recognize some of this history from my world, and obviously, well, we got it wrong, because Panem's come in and corrected some of our inaccuracies. I'm noticing so much has been updated since then."
Rather, some of it's been censored, altered, turned into mere propaganda. Venus isn't the most educated person in the Games but even she can smell the fish on some of these plaques.
"I'm not much of a history buff, but I know that Panem's history was paved in blood, and the history of my own country before that. And I don't want to diminish that, because that's what you're all watching for, isn't it? You take the time to get to know each and every one of us so that you never forget who died to let you live in peace. But the part that should also be recognized is the work of the people behind the scenes."
She pulls a Sponsor canister from beside her into view. Her token, the wire and bead pendant from District Five, twinkles in the light.
"You don't have to die to make a difference. These gifts came to me when I was bleeding out on the floor. That's why I'm taking the moment to thank the people, the mechanisms we cannot see that support the people who fight."
There's a pause, and she holds the canister close to her chest.
"Anyway. I'd especially like to thank my mentors. I didn't know if you'd come through for me, especially Enjolras, because you're so new to the post." She knows that back home, viewers are watching, waiting for some announcement of love that the tabloids have declared is imminent. She lets a pause in her words hang.
But she doesn't want to say that, because she doubts that if he needs to hear anything, it'll br a grandiose declaration of affections he doesn't reciprocate. Instead she reflects on Courfeyrac's return, on walking on the beach knowing that everyone at the barricades died. She wonders if Enjolras is still stubbornly not watching, if he's holed up in his room 'reading' as a way to avoid people all too eager to fill him in on the gruesome details.
What she says is "I put my faith in you for good reason. Thank you, my friend. I won't forget it."
-/-
Once she's done making her little speech, she goes looking for Courfeyrac. With the early events of the Arena, she didn't prioritize finding him. She expects he's already allied with Marius and Cosette, and that the three of them are doing quite well for themselves.
She tells Kankri she'll be back soon, and with that she staggers off to check each room one by one. Wounded as she is, she gets exhausted after each long hallway, each chamber filled with skeletons and diagrams and drawings of ancient creatures. It takes her nearly three hours to get far enough into the fourth floor to see familiar dark curls, and when she does she's so eager to just end her search that she doesn't much bother with stealth.
"Courfeyrac!" she whispers when she sees him. She lifts her hand up, waving over a display with a les Amis d'ABC pin from the giftshop tucked between her fingers like a flower. She hopes the fact that her clothing is stained with so much blood it's easy to miss the original tiger-print pattern doesn't terrify him too badly.
WHAT| Venus sends a message to all her Sponsors, and then goes to find an ally.
WHEN| Week 2
WHERE| Fourth floor.
WARNINGS| Mentions of Venus' injuries.
The gift shop has cheap, themed makeup; Venus grabs a Brainiac Green and a Vakarian Gunmetal in eyeshadow. She considers a Vantas' Blood lipgloss, then decides that she needs something a little more demure and selects one titled 'Lottie'. It's a watery pink so thin it's practically nude on Venus' lips. Thankfully, there's foundation in her skin tone.
It all looks like a joke on her ghastly face. Kankri did the best he could with the stitches, but even the most skilled plastic surgeon couldn't have kept Venus from looking completely mutilated. While mercifully uninfected, the gash bisecting her across the nose is deep and ugly and jagged, and the sutures look comically Frankensteinish. The right side of her head has gone from purple to a vomitous yellow tone, and the fading black eye looks almost slate grey. She has a distinct limp now, and when she stands one side of her body sags at the knee.
She uses only a little makeup, just enough to hide some of the worst bruising and give her eyes a little extra glitter. It's her charisma that, she hopes, will draw her beauty out from under the gore, that will make her painful to look at and yet easy enough to swallow that she doesn't have to be edited down to a mere clip.
She spends almost an hour finding the right spot, trying to analyze where she would put a camera if she were trying to get the best view of the action. When she finds a location with good lighting, she takes a seat and, looking in the direction she hopes is straight-on to a viewer, starts speaking. Her hands are in her lap.
"I hope that everyone in the Capitol knows how grateful I am for your support. Timaeus, Enjolras, Azula, and all my anonymous Sponsors - without you I would be dead, but." She waves a hand at her maimed face. "You know what they say about the stars and plastic surgery. I guess I'm not too young to go under the knife."
She doesn't let herself become distracted while she talks. She delivers her statements directly forward, making eye contact with people she can't see, smiling even as it tugs at the edges of her wound.
"It's strange, doing all this inside a museum. You might even say it's ironic, you know, laying all us down to die at the feet of history. I recognize some of this history from my world, and obviously, well, we got it wrong, because Panem's come in and corrected some of our inaccuracies. I'm noticing so much has been updated since then."
Rather, some of it's been censored, altered, turned into mere propaganda. Venus isn't the most educated person in the Games but even she can smell the fish on some of these plaques.
"I'm not much of a history buff, but I know that Panem's history was paved in blood, and the history of my own country before that. And I don't want to diminish that, because that's what you're all watching for, isn't it? You take the time to get to know each and every one of us so that you never forget who died to let you live in peace. But the part that should also be recognized is the work of the people behind the scenes."
She pulls a Sponsor canister from beside her into view. Her token, the wire and bead pendant from District Five, twinkles in the light.
"You don't have to die to make a difference. These gifts came to me when I was bleeding out on the floor. That's why I'm taking the moment to thank the people, the mechanisms we cannot see that support the people who fight."
There's a pause, and she holds the canister close to her chest.
"Anyway. I'd especially like to thank my mentors. I didn't know if you'd come through for me, especially Enjolras, because you're so new to the post." She knows that back home, viewers are watching, waiting for some announcement of love that the tabloids have declared is imminent. She lets a pause in her words hang.
But she doesn't want to say that, because she doubts that if he needs to hear anything, it'll br a grandiose declaration of affections he doesn't reciprocate. Instead she reflects on Courfeyrac's return, on walking on the beach knowing that everyone at the barricades died. She wonders if Enjolras is still stubbornly not watching, if he's holed up in his room 'reading' as a way to avoid people all too eager to fill him in on the gruesome details.
What she says is "I put my faith in you for good reason. Thank you, my friend. I won't forget it."
-/-
Once she's done making her little speech, she goes looking for Courfeyrac. With the early events of the Arena, she didn't prioritize finding him. She expects he's already allied with Marius and Cosette, and that the three of them are doing quite well for themselves.
She tells Kankri she'll be back soon, and with that she staggers off to check each room one by one. Wounded as she is, she gets exhausted after each long hallway, each chamber filled with skeletons and diagrams and drawings of ancient creatures. It takes her nearly three hours to get far enough into the fourth floor to see familiar dark curls, and when she does she's so eager to just end her search that she doesn't much bother with stealth.
"Courfeyrac!" she whispers when she sees him. She lifts her hand up, waving over a display with a les Amis d'ABC pin from the giftshop tucked between her fingers like a flower. She hopes the fact that her clothing is stained with so much blood it's easy to miss the original tiger-print pattern doesn't terrify him too badly.
no subject
As soon as she hears another voice, her body tenses and her head whips around to the noise. She's prepared to break someone's neck to keep Courfeyrac safe - he isn't her pick to win, but she's fully intending on protecting him, even battered and bloodied.
"Ribs!" she squeaks when Courfeyrac squeezes her. "Ally?"