And when it all goes to hell

[ex_knowledge575]

WHO| Annabeth and YOU
WHAT| Annabeth has just arrived brand spanking new and knows not much. Perhaps someone can befriend her?
WHEN| After the beginning of the Arena, week 1
WHERE| Science labs, anywhere on the ground level of the spaceport
WARNINGS| Nope

For all of the sticky situations she's found herself in, Annabeth's never done this before.

Sure, she's killed plenty of monsters before, but people?

And how? With her bare hands? She's dazed, confused and not entirely sure what she's supposed to be doing. Already she's seen other 'tributes' (murder victims) hurrying by her hiding place with packs and other items of interest and she has no clue where they've got their stuff from. She wasn't allowed to bring anything in, and when she'd arrived just outside the science labs, it was empty handed, except for the blue spacesuit on her back, and a leather necklace of nine coloured, handmade beads and a piece of red coral around her throat.

Still. Hiding here wasn't going to help her get acclimated. She's not entirely sure she wants to talk to someone, but she can defend herself in a pinch, even empty handed, and she needs information. But where to start first?

Carefully, she scouts around the science labs, looking for people in ones and twos that she can talk to. Better to keep away from groups who can easily overpower her in her weaponless state.

Comments

[ruffntumblenut]

In one particular room she'll find a blond girl with her hair in braids currently starring at a bundle of wires sticking out of a large complicated machine. A pair of metal balls each slightly larger then a basket ball, each with a single glowing eye. One blue the other green. The blue one had a boys voice and was coaching her through whatever she was trying to do.

"OK so first rip out the end of the red wire and the green wire and put them together."

The girl was hunched over as she grabbed the wires obediently and grunted yanking them out. The colorful cables sparked and sizzled while she held them and slowly brought them together.

What followed was a loud pop and a yelp as sparks exploded from the wires and smoke belched from the machine filling the room. The girl was knocked onto her back from the small blast. Her crossed eyes finally settled on Annabeth and she offered a wave with her burnt fingertips.

"Oh hey."

[celebrityskinned]

Americans spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on NASA, developing a pen that could write in zero gravity. The Russians used a pencil.

That's all Venus can think about as she searches through the science labs for something to write with; she finds neither pencil nor pen (nor charcoal stick nor cut-out letters nor fingerpaints). She managed to find a blueprint of science that she didn't understand for paper, and is quite ready to start diagramming the parts of the Arena she's already explored. If only she could find the materials.

She hears someone open the door behind her and she whirls around, bedazzled locks swinging in their heavy ponytail. Her face doesn't betray fear; instead, behind the gruesome scar across her cheek and jaw, she looks completely calm, if vigilant. Her hands ball into fists.

"Who's there?"

[anachronologistics]

It's kind of easy to blend in with the garish backgrounds of this place, even when you're brightly-colored. Especially when you can keep afloat above the crowd and watch what's going on below. And Davesprite's been at the crowd-watching for a little while, now.

It's an easy thing to do when people rarely ever look upward.

The first thing he notices about Annabeth is that she isn't carrying a weapon. In an arena like this, it could mean one of two things. 1) She had one and lost it or 2) She doesn't actually need one. The possibility of the second option leaves him content with just letting her move by underneath him.

Except at the last moment, he glides downward, swirls in the air, and stops several feet ahead of her.

So there's this boy, right, and he appears to anything a real boy is not. Everything about him is faintly-tinted orange, like looking at an old sepia picture, and where a pair of legs should be is a long ghost-like tail. It's impossible to tell if it's made from anything solid or not. He has wings, too, though they don't move to keep him floating. The boy crosses his arms.

"Okay, so a lot of the people in this place are chumps and assholes, and they are going to be really hella quick to take advantage of the fact that you aren't carrying a weapon. Like, maybe you don't need one," oh, she is kind of pretty... "I don't know. But even if you don't need one, it's probably going to be better for you in the end if people think you do."

Wow, he talks a lot.