thearena | OPEN

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OPEN

Who| Holiday and YOU
What| Surviving and what not
Where| All over the museum
When| Weeks 2 & 3 (before the volcano blows)
Warnings/Notes| N/A

The crowbar and water she had snatched from the elevators had been an extreme help in the last week or so, but it wasn't enough by a long shot. She had grabbed some food from the cafeteria, a little bit from the edible plant exhibit, but nothing was helping. Try as she might, the water didn't last long and she found a bathroom or two for refueling but-

She could hardly grasp things, her hands shook so much. Her breathing was labored, she was sweating a lot. It was the first time she wasn't careful with her drinking in between arenas and now she was paying for it. She officially had a problem.

Holiday just took deep breaths and tried to keep the rations at a normal level, though water was becoming liquid gold for her... With any luck, it was probably going to be over soon anyway.

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The sponsors had, once again, not been kind to Neffa. And the lingering paranoia left in the wake of the Initiate's masked rampage had left him furtive, mistrustful, and anxious in the company of others - which hadn't helped him strike any bargains. Every time he woke up from the small hours of fitful sleep he managed to catch, he was more surprised to find himself in one piece.

The gift shop, when it was empty, was not a bad place to hide. It was crowded with shelves and racks and piles of useless goods ripped down from their places; a person sitting very still in a corner in his stupid bright-colored assi-printed pajamas could maybe escape notice from a distance, if he curled up his knees and buried his head in his arms and did not tremble too noticeably.

That was what he was banking on, anyway-- and moreso when he heard footsteps.

It wasn't the first time she had seen the little shop, but it was the first time Holiday decided to enter it. Her temperature had been going nuts lately. Usually, she was hot and sweating, but sometimes she was cold. Desperately cold. Really, she didn't have to fight much against the withdrawal since it was going to be over and done with soon anyway, but she just couldn't handle these swings in body temp. There was nothing she could do about the heat unless she wanted to make a few thousand sponsor deals, which she didn't, so more clothes was needed.

She walked down the aisles as quietly as possible, looking for a jacket or something. Maybe a blanket if she was lucky. At the same time, she was watching the floor and peeking around corners in case someone made this their home and laid down traps.

Neffa hadn't set traps. That would have made noise, might have drawn someone. He had no weapon to hand, either, and he scanned his immediate surroundings - there was a set of plastic troll horns, a shirt with Wyatt's mustache on it (labeled as such), a soft smiling Some toy, about fifty little red-white-and-blue lapel pins, and--

--A bag of cheap metal coins. Play money. ...With his face on it. Gods. It was the heaviest thing he could find, and he scooped it up off the floor, wincing at the clink it made as he hefted it in one hand.

He stood up, out of his little nest of blankets and shirts, and waited for the shadow of the intruder to appear around the corner of the aisle of shelves between which he was hidden.

"I've seen you," he declared hoarsely to the air in that direction. "I know exactly where you are. Don't--" No, that was stupid. They needed to move. "You should come around the corner. Where I can see you. Now." He let the coins clink again in the ensuring silence-- maybe his voice had stopped trembling enough that that could sound ominous.

She heard the clinking of coins before she heard the voice. Still, Holiday stopped moving and thought less about what he said than what he sounded like. She blinked at the familiarity of the voice, but failed to place it. It was someone she hadn't heard in awhile...

Still, she obeyed. Running away might have been the best option, but the curiosity was bugging her. After all, it could be anyone. She held her arms up and slowly moved around the corner, allowing this person to command the situation and hoping she wouldn't be bludgeoned for it.

Neffa let his breath out in a soft, trembling sigh of relief when the intruder actually obeyed him. He didn't lower the bag of coins in his hand - for all it wasn't anything like a serious weapon, he hoped the gesture at least communicated his intent not to back down - but the look on his face was far from hostile.

"...Holiday." His tone was still wary. She was not an ally. The fluorescent lights were not kind to her, especially in the state she was in. "Are you alone?"

Neffa? She wouldn't consider them enemies, but she would really trust him completely either. Still, that was the last thing on her mind right now. She was, needless to say, pretty shocked to see him.

After a beat, she nodded. "There's no one else with me. I didn't see anyone near by either."

Holiday had heard of people vanishing for some time and returning, but they either didn't talk about what had happened or didn't seem to remember. It didn't stop her from wanting to ask, but she had to see if Neffa would take his chance to do her in now or not.

He considered it.

She looked weak, and also not like she was lying about being alone. The bag of coins in his hand wasn't much of a weapon, but he was at least her size, and not ill besides. He could throw it at her-- connect with her face, catch her off guard, tackle her when she flinched-- a weapon wasn't necessary. The floor was hard tile. The shelves were metal and thick wood. One well-placed head injury--

--Gods.

Neffa swallowed. Hefted the bag in his hand. ...And after a long second, lowered it.

"Good." His voice trembled. Oh, gods. "You'd better not be lying." The image of his hands around her throat, the crack of her head against the tiles, wouldn't leave his mind. "I-- I will kill you, if you're lying." Stop. Stop thinking about it.

He concentrated instead on what she looked like now. On the sweat standing out on her forehead, the paleness of her face. Something about it spoke to more than fear. "What happened to you?" he asked-- almost demanded. His last Arena, there had been poison.

Holiday didn't answer him for a long moment. She was still staring curiously at him. The look in his eyes, the conflict in his voice. It wasn't something she was unused to here, but it something she didn't fully expect from him. Thinking about it and then seeing it almost in practice were two different things it seemed.

Her instincts told her to leave, but she stayed. What good would running do? She was just sitting through it, waiting for an ending.

After the tense moment, she slowly began to lower her hands again. "Alcohol withdrawal," she answered him honestly. Going around the subject would probably be lethal. "I don't really take it easy in the Capitol."

That was cruel. To have to bring one's ailment in with them from the Capitol. It seemed unfair, almost-- he would have thought they'd have a cure for it, something to even the odds for the afflicted in the Arena. But, well, if the injury's self-inflicted...

"Drinking to forget the Arena doesn't help you in the Arena," he said, and though he said it with a wry twist to his mouth, his tone wasn't without sympathy. (Sympathy he could spare.) And then: "...What do you need?"

That was spoken with less sympathy. He didn't have much, but it could be that he had something that she wanted, and possibly even something she wanted badly. Shame twisted in his gut-- he wasn't the kind to strike bargains with the desperate, not like this-- but there were no gods in the Arena, after all, and no one to take away his Guild standing for it. It may be she has something that I need. I am not yet a beggar.

"I don't look for help through the arenas." Her goal is to get by just long enough to help others through as best she can. That's it. Holiday's had no motives of winning or even trying to make the whole thing a comfortable experience.

She was shocked he would ask such a thing, though, right after the tense moment that they had. Holiday never took from anyone, a lesson she had learned from Howard about avoiding debts. On the other hand, she didn't have much she could offer in turn. Other than her medical expertise and the first-aid kit, she only held a few bites of food.

"... I'll trade with you, but I won't take anything without giving something in return." He probably knew that and expected it, like most did, but she still wanted to be clear after the way he sounded... Besides, he didn't seem like he was doing very great. "I have a little food."

Food! Neffa tried to keep any trace of eagerness off his face, but he couldn't stop himself swallowing hard on reflex at the word. He knew he hadn't eaten today, and he wasn't entirely sure about yesterday - scavenging was getting more difficult as the remaining Tributes guarded their hordes more carefully.

He swallowed again. He hadn't even seen what she had on offer and his mouth was watering. "Water," he said. "I have water. Two bottles." He'd stolen the bottles from other people and filled them in bathrooms, but they were far better than the thirst from before he'd managed to scavenge them. "One could be yours," he said, with a lopsided grin and a friendly lift of his eyebrows-- a not-entirely-satirical parody of a salesman.

Oh. Well she couldn't say no to that sort of deal, so Holiday gave a little smile to him. "I think I can part with half of my food, then."

But he was still someone to fear right now. He may decide to keep all the water and food.

"A simple bargain, simply struck." Neffa's smile loosened at the edges, full of relief. "You would make a good magician, Doctor Holiday."

He let that sit pleasantly for a second, and then added: "--Except that I'll not seal that bargain until I see what you have on offer."

He made a point not to look at the pile of shirts under which he'd hidden his precious store of water. He could imagine how badly she wanted it. He could give it a few seconds, let her think about how much she needed what he was offering. Perhaps she'd be willing to turn over a little more that way.

A good magician. If he says so.

Holiday did give him a little smile, but she wasn't fully trusting just yet. She could still fully understand and appreciate why he wanted to see her items first. She opts to not ask the same of him just yet, since she stumbled into his territory and he still did seem to have the upper hand.

So, she hefts her bag on her shoulder and digs through it for a moment, pulling out her hand to show the half of the food she was willing to offer. She had more on her, but she didn't want him to see the rest. Not after all that.

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gift shop!

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