![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
It started out as the worst day
Who| Courfeyrac et vous (open!)
What| The worst birthday ever.
Where| Pizza Fire Explosion Arcade and Fun Complex.
When| Week One, August 21st.
Warnings/Notes| Gnarly facial injuries. Man pain. The usual.
In all honesty, Courfeyrac's attempts to keep himself busy were successful. He'd managed to find some comfortable clothing for himself and Max in Somerhalder & Smith, and even though they weren't allowed to receive any gifts from their sponsors, it was nice that the two of them had snatched up keys at the ice rink. He only felt vaguely guilty about grabbing the keys in the midst of all the chaos, and he felt a major sense of relief in knowing that both he and Max were alive and out of that damn holding cell. Once they'd run out into the arena proper and found a place to hide, he'd taken the opportunity to hold her and stroke her hair and thank God she was safe with him now.
They couldn't stay in one place for long though, not with people roaming the mall and raiding the store for supplies at all hours. They'd need to find a better place to hide than Somerhalder & Smith, and so it was agreed that they would look for a good place to make camp and then meet up three hours later to confer. Max had headed upstairs. Courfeyrac stayed on the ground floor and headed quickly and quietly across the mall toward the large neon sign with said "Pizza Fire Explosion Arcade and Fun Complex".
The store itself was initially quiet and very dark, but once he crossed the threshold, lights flashed on and something started moving in the distance. He blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust and stop playing tricks on him. Meanwhile the anamatronic figures on the stage began to sing.
"Good lord!" He cried out, ducking under a table so quickly, he nearly fell on his face. What were those things and how did they know that today was his birthday? Come to think of it, he hadn't even remembered it was his birthday until just that very moment. The utter shock of the revelation was enough to make him forget the horrible scabbing wounds on his face or the fact that he'd watched Cindy explode on the ice rink or the fact that he'd been sitting in jail for the last three weeks, if only for a moment or two.
After that moment passed, all Courfeyrac wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position under the pizza parlor table and cry.
What| The worst birthday ever.
Where| Pizza Fire Explosion Arcade and Fun Complex.
When| Week One, August 21st.
Warnings/Notes| Gnarly facial injuries. Man pain. The usual.
In all honesty, Courfeyrac's attempts to keep himself busy were successful. He'd managed to find some comfortable clothing for himself and Max in Somerhalder & Smith, and even though they weren't allowed to receive any gifts from their sponsors, it was nice that the two of them had snatched up keys at the ice rink. He only felt vaguely guilty about grabbing the keys in the midst of all the chaos, and he felt a major sense of relief in knowing that both he and Max were alive and out of that damn holding cell. Once they'd run out into the arena proper and found a place to hide, he'd taken the opportunity to hold her and stroke her hair and thank God she was safe with him now.
They couldn't stay in one place for long though, not with people roaming the mall and raiding the store for supplies at all hours. They'd need to find a better place to hide than Somerhalder & Smith, and so it was agreed that they would look for a good place to make camp and then meet up three hours later to confer. Max had headed upstairs. Courfeyrac stayed on the ground floor and headed quickly and quietly across the mall toward the large neon sign with said "Pizza Fire Explosion Arcade and Fun Complex".
The store itself was initially quiet and very dark, but once he crossed the threshold, lights flashed on and something started moving in the distance. He blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust and stop playing tricks on him. Meanwhile the anamatronic figures on the stage began to sing.
"Good lord!" He cried out, ducking under a table so quickly, he nearly fell on his face. What were those things and how did they know that today was his birthday? Come to think of it, he hadn't even remembered it was his birthday until just that very moment. The utter shock of the revelation was enough to make him forget the horrible scabbing wounds on his face or the fact that he'd watched Cindy explode on the ice rink or the fact that he'd been sitting in jail for the last three weeks, if only for a moment or two.
After that moment passed, all Courfeyrac wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position under the pizza parlor table and cry.
no subject
Since that time, he'd been trying to stay under the radar, and had been making his way through the "Fun Complex", and had been completely horrified by the concept of small children running around there, spreading germs. Horrible. This was a breeding ground for everything. And if there was a child who was ill...
The thought was disgusting enough that the sounds of the animatronics startled him too, causing him to jump a little. He would have hidden, himself, but for hearing Courfeyrac's voice, which pushed him forward, ready to do...well, he was not sure what, but those things COULD be mutts and he wanted no part of THAT.
"Courfeyrac?" He called, ducking under that same table,relieved to see his friend again, even while he kept a watchful eye on that stage.
"This is vaguely terrifying." He was sure his friend's face would be worse, and he DID want to take a look at it, but that could wait until he'd found supplies to help him with.
"I AM glad to see you. I think it may only be us in here. How might I be of help?"
no subject
no subject
He remembered the way Venus had helped him, back when this mess had all started and it seemed as though it might be a good way to begin before the sharper shock. The entire thing was pretty terrible, and anyone who had been at the mercy of the capitol would only add to those effects. Still, it was maybe worth trying a little, first of all. And then, Joly tuned into the words of the song, then scowled at it a moment later.
And it most likely was meant as a taunt there, too.
"I hear." He muttered, shaking his head. "How do the gamemakers even glean this sort of information? You do not need to answer of course." He added, considering the best thing to do in here. "There has to be something that is powering all of these things, if it could be located, but the first order is finding somewhere away from all of this. They ought to have a kitchen or a rest room..."
Why they were called rest rooms was still incredibly strange to Joly. He doubted anyone could ever be at rest during the activities they were designed for. "I think they may be required to have those in public places now. Either of them would likely be along the perimeter, I'd think, so we ought to be able to avoid some of these horrors."
You can ignore this if you'd rather not have one-sided dialogue
So he wanders the mall for people who might give some sort of direction, silence the need dire in him to have one. He's drawn by the flashing light and color of the arcade, reminded of the carnival and yet not at all. In he goes, deep inside looking for something, when the strange statue creature in the back start to sing. There's a gasp of breath like it'd be a scream otherwise, stumbling, and then napkins falling from a table to the floor.
In seconds, the Initiate is down on his knees pickin them up. His face is blank, the paint Kurloz gave him is barely there leaving him mostly grey. His hair is all cut short. He slows suddenly, and his head turns to see Courfeyrac there under a table just some ways away.
no subject
Still, it takes him a moment to fully recognize the troll there before him. How odd he looks without his hair and with his skin such an unfamiliar pallor.
"Do you come to seek refuge, my friend?" He manages at last, unfolding himself a bit. He's disheveled, dark hair a mess, and the brand on his face still looks raw and infected. "Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm, my good troll."
no subject
Courfeyrac's got an ill of him all his own. He sees the way the brand looks, that bright red blood all turned a rust with drying and unhappy blotched skin of sickness. He avoids faces as a rule, but that flares so sharp in his sights, his eyes are drawn to it. His ears, both bloodied and shredded up underneath, the one a little less so still having a third of a small dud-fin left, flatten down (all this visible because of his hair being gone) despite the pain of it on registering Capitol's sign. He forces his ears down at last, back to the floor, picking up the last of the mess he's made.
He straightens, tucks that noisesome nonsense away, and then face the direction Courfeyrac's being at. He didn't come to seek refuge. He came her all lost, in search of purpose in the form of commands that are lacking here. His arms are held at his side, all awaiting expectant.
no subject
Almost, and when she does her guts tighten like an anaconda coiling around its prey. Anxiety, for one - and guilt. Courfeyrac was one of the two people she had most wanted to run into the jail for, one of the people she considered one of her friends. But she went in for Maximus instead.
She wants to scream at the wound on his face, and yet she knows that hers is no better. They're both burned, branded, the traitor-mark ripping up and twisting their features.
"Courfeyrac?" She doesn't really want to turn her back to the animatronics. They creep her out. "You'd think they could have at least sent us some burn ointment in this damn Arena."
no subject
"I doubt they will send us anything this time." He moves a little, so that the shadow of the table will mask his face a bit more. "They want us to suffer. We are no good to them otherwise."
no subject
"Not to tempt fate or anything, but I'd rather be here than back in that cell." Her voice is hollow and small, almost girlish, as the tortures flood back into her mind and then recede like the tide. The memories lurk in the corner, waiting for her to be distracted so they can overwhelm and drown her.
She looks over her shoulder again. "God, those animals are fucking creepy."
no subject
So he crept in as unobtrusively as he could manage, to be greeted by loud noise and -- something that he supposed was music. Hardly the stealthy entrance he had been hoping for. He immediately slammed himself against the wall, hoping to remain unseen. It likely wouldn't work, but it was an attempt.
no subject
Either way, he was past the point of madness, and at last, completely unaware of Combeferre's presence in the facility, he crawled out from his hiding spot under the table, growling fiercely as he grabbed a Parmesan cheese shaker from the table. He pitched it directly at one of the anamatronics as they were midway through yet another birthday song.
"Enough of this madness! Enough, I say!"
The glass cheese jar bounced uselessly off the anamatronic mouse and shattered on the floor of the stage. Frustrated, he turned back to grab another projectile, only then noticing that there was someone else in the shadows. Courfeyrac froze, eyes narrowed as he stared at the seemingly living spot on the wall. He was afraid, yes, but he also embraced his mortality in a way. The sooner he died, the sooner he could start over again in the Capitol, without a mangled body and an even more mangled face. "Who goes there? Reveal yourself."
no subject
"Hello, Courfeyrac."