On My Knees, Saying Prayers in the Streetlight [Open]

[nunpunching]

WHO| Punchy and open.
WHAT| Punchy wanders around and finds a pharmacy, dissects a walker.
WHEN| Before Hellrena, week one.
WHERE| Near the town green.
WARNINGS| None.

Punchy hasn't eaten in nearly a week. His body, though used to somehow pulling nutrition out of a diet of nothing but gummi worms and sports drinks, is running on fumes. He feels his skin starting to get tight over his cheekbones and his lips starting to chap, and what's worse, he's feeling unfocused. It's a strange and unpleasant feeling for someone who can sit down and hammer out a computer program overnight; it's the way he felt back in class, as if nothing is interesting and nothing matters.

Of course, given that he's in a death Arena, feeling detached and listless isn't exactly a proper response to the circumstances.

He's set up his hideout inside an old pharmacy, one that would no longer be deemed fit to sell drugs due to the sheer amount of mildew sprawling out over every surface. He'd hoped to find candy, but the mints and lollipops he found practically crumbled to pastel-covered dust in his hands. He really only comes here to sleep during the day, catching quick catnaps and escaping from the more suffocating part of the heat.

At night, he goes out and kills these weird machinations the Capitol has put here, these walkers and insects. He has burns all over his hands from one of the giant spiders, but he's dragged a walker back to the pharmacy and is trying to take it apart, to see if there's a machine inside. How does it hunt with no eyes, no nose? If it has a sensor beacon, it could be used to find his allies.

He's hunched over this stinking, hideous corpse and so enraptured with his study that he wouldn't even notice someone coming in.

Comments

[aboveangrybees]

Not slow, just from the 1940s and with how much slang this kid was using, well, it was like a language of it's own. It was mostly decipherable, so he needed only a moment to puzzle out what was said to him.

At least he was a fast learner.

"Sounds a lot like someone I know," really, Punchy just described wanting to be Stark.

"Well, I wish you luck with that," he sounds a little unsure about that, because becoming a hero for the fame seems like the wrong reason. Though, who knows, by the time he achieves fame, maybe it won't be about that anymore. "It's tough work."

[nunpunching]

"I know." And just like that, there's a seriousness to Punchy's voice that wasn't there before. He may be into this hero business for the glory, but he's done four Arenas and hasn't let them ruin him yet. The outside is burnished, but it's metal all the way down.

"I been here a while. They be trying to bust the hero right out of everyone, make us one of them killers. And I ain't got beef with the ones who buckle, because it's hard out here, but we can keep it chill if we focus. I ain't never killed on purpose." He makes a little 'I'm watching you' gesture at Steve, as if to say 'and you better not where I can see you', as if he doesn't trust the guy who just radiates stand-up goodness.

[aboveangrybees]

"You seem like a good guy, Punchy, I'm glad they didn't take that from you," it's a rare person who can stand up and withstand an environment like this. He's with him in not blaming the ones who buckle, but he's glad to have met someone who hasn't.

"And you don't have to worry about me, the only way I'll kill is if there's absolutely no alternative and I have a reason to keep on," if his allies need him, then he'll kill to survive, but only after words, stepping away, and incapacitation fail. These are his guns and he's sticking to them.

((ooc: I know you dropped, so if you wanna drop this, no problem, it was just one away from 10 comments. /shallow))

[nunpunching]

"Ain't no big." And though there's a shrug that suggests modesty, Punchy's clearly, again, preening. He figures it's probably a compliment of semi-decent weight if it comes from a guy who seems so upstanding.

"Aces." Still, Punchy doesn't look like he totally believes that, and that distrust is a sad fact of his time spent in Panem. He's seen too many people die at the hands of supposedly peaceful competitors. He saw Topher skewered like a fish on a pike for offering a handshake and to share food. "You got a plan for this shitshow otherwise?"

[aboveangrybees]

The nature of the situation doesn't lend to people believing in the best of each other, so the continued suspicion doesn't bother Steve. If anything, he rather people are cautious than dumb. Even he doesn't trust Punchy on his word alone, maybe believe what he said, but belief and trust never had to go hand in hand.

At least Punchy seems honest. And is using slang Steve knows and understands finally.

"Well," Steve looks to the side like he's thinking, "do what I can for others and my allies, help people survive." He's already been told it's pointless, but if he can help one of them win, then that doesn't make it pointless at all. "How about you?"

[nunpunching]

"I'm trying to keep as many peeps from the morgue as possible." It's a naive hope, one Punchy recognizes as a pipe dream but can't quite let go of yet. Four Arenas and part of him still believes that a whole group could win and walk away Victors without spilling blood. "You see a little Asian shawty, middle-age, not an ounce of cake on her, you tell her I'm here, a'ight?"

He sits up on the counter, long legs dangling slightly, toes of his shoes scraping the wooden floor. "You free to take anything you want here. I ain't no selfish high-roller."

[aboveangrybees]

"That I can do," Steve is on the lookout for a number of people for others now, but it's all part of who he is, helping any and every way he can. Even if it's helping people connect.

He casts a look around and gives a shrug. "Naw, it's yours, I have my fair share of things," even if over ninety percent of those things are going to everyone but himself. "Besides, here," case in point as Steve offers a can of food he found in a house, "better than taking your chances with that," he gives a pointed look in the dead creature's direction.