Venus Dee Milo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
celebrityskinned) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2015-01-31 02:02 am
celebrityskinned) wrote in thearena2015-01-31 02:02 am
Strange Hellos Are Not My Bag [Open]
WHO| Venus Dee Milo and open!
WHAT| Venus catches a frog.
WHERE| The pond.
WHEN| Week 1
WARNINGS| Dead animals.
She was not expecting to lose Kankri so soon, to spend so much of the next few days wandering around in the wilderness without seeing hide nor hair of her allies. She wasn't expecting her Arena raison d'être to be pulled out from under her, leaving her lopsided, unbalanced, tottering through a cold, damp wilderness. She imagined her return to the Arena, with her face and self-esteem and verve back, would be some sort of comeback, and yet instead she's floundering all blank-faced and witless.
Loneliness becomes a tangible being to her, not human-shaped but wrapped around and over her like a heavy drift of snow. She feels it as something corporeal. It's only been a week and yet she talks to herself and to the audience, sings snatches of songs to fill the silence otherwise only marked by the snapping of geese. She stays by the pond during the day and then puts distance between herself and the water at night, so as to avoid the worst of the temperature drop. The cold has kept her from sleeping too long or too well, but the hollowness in her expression comes entirely from her state of mind instead of body.
Just when she thought she was above water, something underneath her has tugged at her ankle and she's sputtering again.
She's managed not to poison herself off of the berries here, but she's getting hungry. She knows that the geese are catchable, if aggressive. She has a shiv fashioned from a broken branch of pine tree, not anything terribly sophisticated. She considers going for the fish in the river but knows that's just going to mean getting wet for very little chance at reward. So instead, she decides to go for waterfowl back at the pond.
Lurking in the tall grass around the shore, she takes off her uggs and sets them aside as she gets into the mud. She cringes, watching as her feet vanish up to the ankle in the murky water, but crouches, waiting for signs of wildlife. Whenever she approaches the geese, they see the rustle in the reeds and steer clear. For about an hour they continue this dance, her patience dwindling as her toes go numb, the shiv tucked into the strap of her bra so she can use both hands to catch a bird. Eventually, she sees something else moving by her foot, and after verifying that it isn't another corpse bobbing up like she saw yesterday, she leans in to get a better look.
She makes the split second decision to go for the easier, if smaller target, and there's a burst of activity as she lunges forward and wraps her hand around something fleshy and living while geese flap and squawk out of the tall grass.
She may have missed out on the goose, but she emerges from the reeds with a large frog in hand, and the grimness of her face breaks briefly into triumph.
WHAT| Venus catches a frog.
WHERE| The pond.
WHEN| Week 1
WARNINGS| Dead animals.
She was not expecting to lose Kankri so soon, to spend so much of the next few days wandering around in the wilderness without seeing hide nor hair of her allies. She wasn't expecting her Arena raison d'être to be pulled out from under her, leaving her lopsided, unbalanced, tottering through a cold, damp wilderness. She imagined her return to the Arena, with her face and self-esteem and verve back, would be some sort of comeback, and yet instead she's floundering all blank-faced and witless.
Loneliness becomes a tangible being to her, not human-shaped but wrapped around and over her like a heavy drift of snow. She feels it as something corporeal. It's only been a week and yet she talks to herself and to the audience, sings snatches of songs to fill the silence otherwise only marked by the snapping of geese. She stays by the pond during the day and then puts distance between herself and the water at night, so as to avoid the worst of the temperature drop. The cold has kept her from sleeping too long or too well, but the hollowness in her expression comes entirely from her state of mind instead of body.
Just when she thought she was above water, something underneath her has tugged at her ankle and she's sputtering again.
She's managed not to poison herself off of the berries here, but she's getting hungry. She knows that the geese are catchable, if aggressive. She has a shiv fashioned from a broken branch of pine tree, not anything terribly sophisticated. She considers going for the fish in the river but knows that's just going to mean getting wet for very little chance at reward. So instead, she decides to go for waterfowl back at the pond.
Lurking in the tall grass around the shore, she takes off her uggs and sets them aside as she gets into the mud. She cringes, watching as her feet vanish up to the ankle in the murky water, but crouches, waiting for signs of wildlife. Whenever she approaches the geese, they see the rustle in the reeds and steer clear. For about an hour they continue this dance, her patience dwindling as her toes go numb, the shiv tucked into the strap of her bra so she can use both hands to catch a bird. Eventually, she sees something else moving by her foot, and after verifying that it isn't another corpse bobbing up like she saw yesterday, she leans in to get a better look.
She makes the split second decision to go for the easier, if smaller target, and there's a burst of activity as she lunges forward and wraps her hand around something fleshy and living while geese flap and squawk out of the tall grass.
She may have missed out on the goose, but she emerges from the reeds with a large frog in hand, and the grimness of her face breaks briefly into triumph.
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