thearena | [open] And think well, yes think as you are fighting

Entry tags:

[open] And think well, yes think as you are fighting

Who| Phillip Gray and open
What| Surviving and other errands, along with a Valentine's delivery
Where| All over the Arena
When| End of Week 3 (Valentine's) Twelve hours before Nick Sr. finds him
Warnings/Notes| Arena shenanigans and flashbacks of his home

Lasting this long in the Arena, almost three weeks surviving, Phil uncovered his mouth to let out a soft chuckle. He'd joked with Piers Nivans that he'd only last two weeks tops back at the Crowning, that he wasn't much to behold. Dandy called him fodder for killers, that there wasn't any other place for him in this world unless he was guilty of something. But Nivans was dead, and Gray had watched Mott die. It wasn't a natural transition for him, Gray admitted as he'd patched Venus up that day, to go from having basically no agency on whether he lived or died to making choices, good or bad. It felt...liberating. It felt so good that his chuckle became a full-on laughing fit that toppled him onto the ground. He was alone, with the cameras watching, so he uttered a thanks to the viewers, well aware that someone on the other side of the lens would hear him. He also said it to the people that helped him get this far: to Sandy, Milo, and every Sponsor Stephen sent. Phil owed them his life and come hell or high water, he'd stand by them.

A Sponsor packet drifted across the sky, almost dancing, prompting Gray to sit up. "Small one," he figured and got back to his feet. All he had of his original Cornucopia bounty was the bag it came in, he'd left the tent in Sandy's care to free up the carrying space. As Phil opened the package the moment it landed, the smell of flowers invaded his sense of smell, reminding him of his last Valentine's Day. It'd been the year of the first dead child and he still remembered how her eyes lit up at the sight. "Erm," he had an embarrassed look on his face, especially when the tag read his name, "Two dozen roses..." That was two bouquets to do as he pleased with. Checking his wares and confirming he had enough food and water to last him a day, Phillip decided to make a trip. He knew exactly who to give these to. As a professional thank you of course! Nothing else.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"A few thou-wow, I am so behind on everything," Phil said with a sense of wonder, he was completely fascinated by the device just as he'd been with the simulator back at the Training Center. Had he stayed in his world, he wouldn't have seen such convenience. "Okay, iPod, right."

"Uh, got any Toni Braxton? Or Sinead O'Connor?" he then smiled at her, "Or anything with Duran Duran or David Bowie?" No one could argue the value of having Ziggy Startdust in their iPod thingies.

A pinprick on his back reminded Gray of the delivery he was supposed to make, turning his face a soft sort of pink. It was even worse with the cold, and brighter by the second. "Uh, um...before that..."

Come on Phillip, you can do this. This is a completely professional giving of flowers...on Valentine's in a death arena, that was his self-motivation now as he carefully drew out one of the cumbersome bouquets out for Venus.

"F-For you," And he hoped to a God that probably didn't exist (or was far too amused to care) that he didn't trip on his words. "T-thanks for-uh, helping me." Uh huh.

"I don't know, I haven't really checked it out yet!" Venus takes an earbud from him and puts it in her own ear, scrolling through the old classic iPod with the little clicking wheel. Names, all names she recognizes and a few she met back in her Hollywood days, roll by.

She's used to taking proposals graciously, and so by instinct her mouth makes a surprised 'o', her eyebrows lift, and she takes the flowers. She looks down at them, sniffs them, closes her eyes as the genetically-modified scent from the Capitol, like roses but amplified to the point of heady richness, fills her nose.

"I think I'll just let my girl Alanis speak for me." She turns on 'Thank U' by Alanis Morrisette, letting the tinny beat fill his ears.

Venus would be treated to the sight of Phil smiling through the roses she held, and the way his face betrayed his joy and mortification of it all. Out of all the ordeals he'd experienced in the Arena, handing over the flowers was probably the most nervewrecking. To see her enjoy the gift, sparked something in him all over again. Was it the same feeling he'd had back in Milo's hideout, a little flame of something more than just companionship? He didn't dare answer the question then, but maybe he could consider it now.

"Alanis always did have a way with words," Phillip listened, losing his sense of location all over again. His throat was drier now, even with the recent drink he'd had before finding the flowers. "I suppose we have time for a few songs before we, uh, join the fray, right?"

"Sure. I can listen for trouble with one ear. We probably don't have much longer on this iPod before the battery runs out and, well." She gestures at the wilderness around them. "Not much we can do with that."

For a moment she pauses, and something in the air seems to hang heavy, heavy but not sorrowful. She sniffs her roses, stroking them like a cat almost. "Thanks for saving my life earlier."

She hadn't been sure she'd wanted him to.

Phil was about to agree with Venus and even play with the device, to figure out what made it work, until he heard her thank him for his help. The man blinked for a moment, almost uncertain of what had gone through his mind when he found her, or why was he going there in the first place. In fact, it went against everything he was supposed to do in the Games, at least according to what others had warned him.

"You're welcome," he did his best to hide the slight tinge again, "I-I couldn't just leave you like that. You're a good contender and, um..."

Yes, because this is totally the moment to be a professional, his mind recreated Jeremy in all his blood-soaked glory, to which Phil mentally hissed at him to be quiet. And made a note to go to a doctor because one shouldn't argue with dead coworkers who embodied everything wrong with their past.

"You're my friend," the Phone Guy finally admitted, hearing the song play on as a way to "As childish as that is. Oh God, I walk into messes, don't I? Professional acquaintances, yes, that's a better one."

Oh he was flustered all right.

She doesn't tease him when he says that she's his friend, because she's glad he said it before she did. He took the risk in defining their relationship into something she wanted anyway.

"Please," she says, soft and purring because that's how she's always related to men best, with a bit of enticing tint. "You would have saved me whether or not I was a contender, or whether or not I was your friend. That's just the kind of guy you are. You don't stand there and let people bleed out if they don't deserve it."

(Like Dandy did.)

"I bet someone back there in the Capitol is drawing pictures of us smooching right now." Or worse. Capitolite Hunger Games fans have intense imaginations.

That alluring voice made Phillip laugh along, "Maybe I'm just a bleeding heart, huh? I'm not gonna last very long, a-am I?" He then tried to be as suave as Clark Gable, "But frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. It's the way I am, honor-bound and-"

The comment about the smooches would cause all that gallant posturing to collapse on its' own weight, and Phil cover his eyes with his hands. She always managed to get him in that vulnerable state as he babbled, "D-don't say that, I almost forgot this isn't a private listening experience." He did let Venus see his smile though: his usual but maybe laced with the curiosity of kissing anyone, let alone her, after going without such a touch for as long as he did. Gray shot that thought process down immediately, murder arena and such.

"They...actually do that? Like draw Tributes into soap opera couples or something?" he asked, "This is so weird, I don't think I-I'll ever get used to that."

She sorts at his attempt at Clark Gable, finding that he's charming even while he lacks all the suaveness of the movie greats. There's something about him, an earnestness, an honest goodness that can only be innate.

"Oh, God, they do that and then some." She laughs. "You should see some of the porn written about me. It's enough to make your toes curl."

It doesn't bother her much, so long as it's all rooted in fantasy. That's what she's made to be, after all - a fantasy. It happens to someone else that happens to share her face.

"Porn? As in…" Yeah, Phil's just going to make a groan that was more like a dying animal than human, "I worry about this place, so much." Especially from a guy who read trashy and pulp novels before going to work and survive in the most literal sense possible. "Wow, celebrity is definitely not what people hype it up to be."

Add to that list small-town naïve, he's always star-struck whenever Venus came along. She reminded him of a quintessential star, not starlet. But to Gray, she wasn't just an unattainable dream, she was a person. A person that he slowly got to know better and in turn, opened up more to her.

"And you read it? With a straight face?"

"Sure. Believe me, honey, I've read worse about me, and you will too. I'd rather someone make up some weird sexual adventures for me than chew me out for something real." She laughs. "There was one where I was spread-eagled on the American flag."

The way the audience comes together to create their version of her, this papier-maché Venus that does things the real Venus would never imagine, the way that advertisers use her to become their product, is what drew her to celebrity in the first place. She could make Delilah, the murderous girl she hated, disappear forever inside a persona that everyone was too eager to believe. Venus is sweet and bubbly and sexy and signs autographs with hearts and lipstick. It's a delusion everyone else participates in.

Spread-eagle on the what? Phillip cannot help the all-encompassing crimson tinge on his face, he didn't dare imagine her that way! That was pretty much what every red-blooded American would have under their pillows. "Really...this place is out there, just let me have this moment of-what happened to self-restraint?"

Okay, that was a bit of a lie, but he never went as far as kissing her as in the same movie he'd tried to quote earlier. She wasn't an object to him, a prize to be won. He still remembered the love and affect Sam and Vee showed each other before she was healed. They were good for each other and were veterans.

You don't fit in that picture, he reminded himself before remembering just how nice it felt to care for someone again. Venus made him happy just being her, "I guess people really don't have issue making fantasies...even though the real deal," he looked to Milo and smiled, "Is probably one of the best Tributes I've ever met."

He had no idea of the truth but if he did, he would not ever blame her for it.

"Oh, come on, Phil. Does this place scream self-restraint to you?" He's seen enough of the Capitol to see the lavish parties, the fondue fountains in the middle of courtyards, the clothing made entirely of handstitched lace and beads. "I'm sure that was only scratching the surface of what people want to see from me, but that's the trick to being a celebrity and not just being a porn star. You always keep a little bit for yourself, some line no one gets to cross, certainly not the public."

There's a frankness with which she discusses sexuality that's almost boastful, and certainly artificial; she doesn't feel that brave in bed, but if she can step out of Delilah and into Venus, her secondary skin, she can pretend and sell it as if the sex she were selling were her own and not the construct of an audience.

"You're sweet." She reaches over and taps the top of his ear affectionately. "But I didn't save your life, so I'm the one who owes you."

"No, it screams Las Vegas on cocaine, but I will definetly keep that in mind, your advice hasn't failed yet," Phillip quipped with a laugh at both the question and the tap on his ear. He believed in the image Venus projected. more so when he felt like the opposite: that he showed too much and left nothing to the imagination. In truth, he kept a lot from himself a secret to other Tributes because he knew they'd brand him a coward, a dirty coward who never raised the proper concerns or questions. A coward who let those children die over corporate image. "Better that to be caught by someone outside with a, uh, one-nighter." Even describing his own past escapades he stumbled.

Gray knew he had to be honest to her though, even if it wrecked her perception of him, "You kinda did save my life. I didn't feel ready for these games, or this place. I know it will hurt if I die, but at least I won't by that afraid."

She doesn't tell Phil how glad that makes her, to think that she's doing something here for people that isn't just dying and failing and failing to die quickly enough.

"No sex tapes, no full-frontal," she says, waving a finger and grinning. "So don't ask. There's a legit photoshoot of me floating around with nothing but a giant gold sequin-covered boa constrictor covering my boobs and cooch, though. That was my former Escort's idea, not Porrim. I'm sure you'll get to do one of those horribly uncomfortable or embarrassing shoots eventually."

She gets serious, as serious as she does with Phil, for just a moment. "I'd say no one's ever ready but I was, so I guess it's my way of paying forward all the coaching I got back in my superhero days."

Yeah, no, Gray's not even going to try and hide the embarassment he was feeling at that moment, even less the mortification of him doing a photoshoot. Venus can delight herself in his face, temporarily stuck between annoyance and inadequacy, "At least someone can claim th-that's art...W-Why do I have a feeling you're going to enjoy my shoot?" Either way she answers, Phil's going to both commit the memory and reject it.

But he knows when to kid around and when to drop it, more so when he says, "Vee, if there's anything I wanted to tell you back there, i-is that, you do what's best for you, okay? Superheroes, at least in those comics back home, they never really take care of themselves a-and burn out. I-I'd hate to see that happen to you too."

Phillip truly believed the image, but the cracks he'd seen the last time, with the frog they named Kermit, he had to speak that up before he died.

And delight in his face she does. It's not just that he's embarrassed - it's that she can embarrass him, as if it's some superpower she has, some magic spell that she can cast with nothing but her tongue and wits. "I'd say 'don't flatter yourself' but who knows? Maybe I'll really enjoy your shoot."

And it's that same brashness that lets him brush off his warning. The truth is that it hits home. The truth is that burning out is exactly what she wants to do. She wants it to be dramatic and fast and public and beautiful, the crucifixion of the guilty party in flames and roses.

"I'm fine, Phil. I haven't lasted here this long without picking up some tips."

"I never said I was going to look good in them," Phil held up his index finger for emphasis, then a sweeping motion to his very covered up body, "Just that they'd be embarrassing as all hell and I'd be very thankful anyone who knows me is stuck way, waaaaaaay back at my old place and not here." He paused, then rattled on a little faster than before, "AndtheyprobablythinkI'mdeadsowin-win."

If the bluntness of the statement affected the former guard, he didn't let it show as he nodded and smiled at Venus with the same brightness and almost pup-like joy as ever. "I know, I know. Maybe this will be the one? I-I know I'll be cheering you on, Milo." This might have been his last day on the Arena but for Phillip Gray, this was the absolute best day of his life.

Edited 2015-05-31 17:16 (UTC)

"Anyone who knows you from back home. More people know you here - or think they know you - than you think." She reaches over and taps his index finger. "You're famous now."

She shakes her head. "Nah. Everyone knows I ain't here to win. But maybe you are. I'd be okay with that." She moves her hand from his finger to his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "I'm going to head back before Albert and Jet start thinking I got eaten by mutts. Keep the iPod, okay? I'll keep the flowers."

"Fame's a tricky game. But I'm used to infamy anyways. I mean um-"

It's the tapping and the signs of affection that bring a telltale blush onto Phillip's face and he nodded towards the device, breaking the train of thought. Venus had the distinction of being one of very few people in Panem that could get Gray away from those memories on her own. "Thanks, heh, I I'll stick around and see if there's something to eat or something." He knows he repeated himself in that sentence but he didn't care.

The former Phone Guy then stood up and with a shaky breath of air, he said, "Ha-Happy Valentine's day, um, Vee. Send my regards to Jet and Albert!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[open] And think well, yes think as you are fighting

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

/start wrapping?

with a pretty bow! <3