keep_surviving: (Default)
Diana Ladris ([personal profile] keep_surviving) wrote in [community profile] thearena2014-08-24 09:30 pm

knickers

Who| Diana, and you [open to all]
What| Diana's just browsing.
Where| Cushion Pushin’ Upscale Lingerie (it’s very classy), First floor // FAYZ Freaks Fiesta (Merchandise), Third Floor
When| First Week
Warnings/Notes| It's an arena post with Diana, just, be prepared.

Past the window mannequins dressed in the more conservative pyjamas and nightwear, surrounded by a racks of lace, silk, frills and polka dots, is Diana. Killing time before the next replenishment of food.

Though she's hardly about to strip down and actually try on any of them, especially the corsets, which there's a ridiculous amount of (seriously, they must have come back into fashion hard). It doesn't stop her from looking around.

Because some of these sets are actually pretty damn cute. Like that yellow, white-spotted one.

So she walks around the 3 for 2 bins of knickers, racks of comfortable looking nighties and line after line of bras to pick a few out.

She holds them against her body, scrutinizing herself in the mirror then turning to look up at the ceiling, guessing the camera's location with rather surprising accuracy.

Then she pulls a questioning expression and raises her hand, shaking it in so-so gesture, as if asking the audience for their opinion before nodding or shaking her head, putting it back and browsing again.

------

Diana is fully aware that there's merchandise of her (her Azula and Diana shipping shirts are a testament to that) but it doesn't prepare her for the first sighting of FAYZ Freaks Fiesta.

It's terrible. And cheesy. And hilarious so, of course, Diana loves it and is already wearing a 'It's just a FAYZ' shirt.

What baffles her is that what seems to be the focus of FAYZ merchandise is a large collection of snowglobes.

Getting closer, she can see the typical town backdrops in some but others have desert or water. And the confetti inside them all varies in shape and colour.

But something about every single one looks familiar. The little town backdrop isn't any little town. It's a Perdido Beach.

She leans down to get a better look at the plastic souvenirs and sees familiar faces moulded into little figures and placed amongst the scenery.

Sometimes in less than pleasant scenarios, like a little Lana trapped under a truck with a little dog stood beside her.

And there, pressed against the glass in the one closet to her, tiny face twisting in pain for touching the barrier, is a Sam.

Diana shakes her head. “Oh, you cheeky bastards.”
carnagecarnival: (fade to the background)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2014-09-06 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Shit. No. She shouldn't be as said to like him, maybe past tense but... oh, okay, just for the win. That wasn't so bad. District five might still me fine.

He accepts her observation, simple note. It's kind of funny, in a distant sense. There were some what would say he's exactly as he ought to look, cut down and cut up. Technically, he's been made clean by them, purified and better. But all still, this remains a state unnatural, enough others are being to notice.

He breathes deep, the air whistling though his teeth and shuddering on its way out. He remains attentive, head lifting just a little. Just enough he can see, without making eye contact, she's fine, she stayed out and away from the harsh noise.
carnagecarnival: (head kiss)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2014-09-07 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
She ain't realised yet. Or maybe she ain't want to. He can only do what he's being asked to but he can't just leave her all like to knowing nil and naught. It feels obligational of sorts to explain, somehow, with making means to actually answer.

The faster she figures it all out the faster he'll be able to work for her. He racks his thinkpan hard for something simple enough not to get him in trouble.

Carefully, he brings the arms at his sides to fold behind his back, bowing his head just the slightest back down again, a closing of the eyes. A gesture of subservience. A sign that says 'I am here to serve and no more than that'.
carnagecarnival: (fade to the background)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2014-09-07 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)
He breathes deep again, tries to draw up the strength for effort, of trying to communicate and answer when everything his mind and body screams that he can't, he's not allowed. It brings a pain. It's hard enough to hurt physically, the ghost of sensations done on him in a state of pan-warping.

He manages one single shake of his head. It could easily be a shudder. It's followed by a real one.

No, he can't say nothing.
carnagecarnival: (the avox sads)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2014-09-09 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
She remembered, he realises. She remembered how all contact made him react, all his sweeps of strife and training making it all the more impossible to simply let no strangers near as that.

He brings his hand up, slow, shaking, unsteady. He brings it just up to his waist, where her hand pulls on his shirt. His fingers hover over hers, enough to be noticed, but no enough to touch, to break the rule of no-contact. And then he drops it.

He hopes it's enough to get her attention, so she'll look up and see when he nods the barest bit, eyes closed. A show of gratitude. Just to give her something more than a whole motherfucking bunch of nothing.