thearena | Why don't Sponsors ever send mayonnaise?

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Why don't Sponsors ever send mayonnaise?

Who | Kousuke Nitou and you!
What | It's raining frogs and fish? Nitou thinks it's raining dinner.
Where | The castle and the edge of the forest.
When | Thursday, Week 3, before Nitou goes into the catacombs.
Warnings/Notes | Nothing outside of normal Arena things besides a small bit of bathroom humor.

[The Castle]
After the past couple of days of intense, skin-searing sunshine that exacerbated all the burns Nitou had picked up when he'd gotten hit by lightning, rain, any sort of rain, was a relief. Even if it meant getting pelted with fishes and frogs. They weren't dangerous, just kind of weird and gross to get hit in the face with.

Yet even though there had been food provided in the castle the day before, one meal wasn't enough. Nitou knew that you had to strike when the opportunity presented itself, and so he'd scrounged around in the castle in order to find some sort of container in which to catch the falling frogs and fish. The problem was that in his zeal to find a container, he'd neglected to take into account several facets of medieval life. Such as medieval toilets and the fact that the basin he'd conveniently found in one of the bedrooms was in actuality a chamber pot and not something he'd want to keep potential food in.

He was running around outside, trying to catch as many fish and frogs as he could in the chamber pot he'd removed from the castle. Nothing at all to see here, move along, hope he's going to wash those really well before eating them, and maybe a Sponsor would gift him with some hand sanitizer if they took pity on him and the object he was handling.

[The Edge of the Forest]
Nitou wasn't too worried about making a fire. The fire would show everyone where he was, but so was that marker hanging over his head. There was no point in worrying about it. Even if the forest creeped him out and he only hung around the edges, he was good at this survival stuff. He knew what he was doing, and it wasn't long before he'd set up a fire.

There were a few empty bottles of Tracker Jacker hand sanitizer scattered around the area as Nitou set up some of the fish and frogs cooking on skewers and a rough spit he'd built over the fire. Sure, he could use some mayonnaise, but he had more than he could eat by himself. That was doing about as well as could be hoped for in an Arena. He was in a good enough mood that he might be willing to share with anyone who came across him, if they weren't actively trying to kill him.

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The smell of smoke was the first indication to Haruto that he was heading in the right direction. Unlike Nitou, who had been sufficiently full of energy to run around in the pouring rain catching fish in a pot, he was still walking with a limp and suffering from a lingering fever. So he'd taken shelter in the castle in an effort to stay dry and regain some strength... and it kind of helped. It sort of worked. He felt so improved by that afternoon that he had convinced himself that the rain was letting up, and set out to go and find Nitou. He'd be in the forest somewhere, he knew that much. And if anyone could get a fire going in such dampness, it'd be... well, him or maybe Aragorn or some other extremely wilderness-inclined person, but hey! There was a guy in a singed wizard robe. Bingo.

"Hey, what's for supper?" It's easy to grin and laugh, because he's genuinely relieved to see the guy. What had been bothering him before was off his chest, and there were bigger concerns in here. Like food, and maybe figuring out a better plan for the next few days.

"Hey!" Nitou gives Haruto a cheerful wave and motions for him to take a place next to his sad hobo fire. "Fish and frogs! Supper's falling from the sky today! You know I can't pass up an opportunity like that."

"Fish and frogs?" Haruto's expression twists up into a revolted grimace, but then he steps closer and can actually smell both of the things roasting, and it makes his stomach rumble audibly. Okay. Okay, maybe that's not so bad. Maybe he shouldn't be protesting. Food's food in here, isn't it? "You have enough to share?" They may be rivals, but it's important to ask.

"Of course I have enough to share! I caught a whole bunch!" At least, Nitou can share with his rival. It's not cool if his rival's starving while he's in top condition, right? Nitou motions for Haruto to sit down. "It's literally falling from the sky, why not try to eat it?"

Sitting down seems like a good idea, given the still iffy state of his leg, and Haruto does just that. There's a little hiss of discomfort, but that's better than he's been doing before.

"Uh..." There is a flaw in this. A flaw that is only now fully dawning on him, as he looks at those roasting fish. "...it fell from the sky. They sent them. What if they're poisoned?" He would not put it past the Gamemakers to send them food and make it toxic.

"I'd rather not starve to death." Nitou wrinkles his nose. "If I gotta go through eating bad food or starving to death, I'm taking the bad food--but I think these are fine!" He's cheerfully setting up some more to roast for Haruto. "I already ate a couple, and I don't feel funny or anything. There's opportunity in this danger! The opportunity to eat, man!"

"I'd have thought you wouldn't want to do that a second time..." It just kind of slips out, and Haruto grimaces after he realizes that he's said it. It's just not on to remind a guy of the time he died via chestburster. "I mean..." Let's change the subject! Let's have some fish! He reaches in for one that looks done, gingerly pulling the skewered thing back and blowing on it a bit. "I'm not going to pass this opportunity up...."

He has not taken a bite yet, just saying.

Haruto. Haruto, you did not bring that up. "This time, it's gonna be different." That is as much for his own reassurance as it is for Haruto's, and he takes a bite out of that frog. "Tastes like chicken," he says solemnly. "But edible!"

He did. And he feels bad. So he gives a very empathetic nod in return and takes a testing nibble at his portion of fish. "...f'you say so." The fish, it tastes like fish, and he's fine with that. So he's taking a bigger bite, chewing it quickly, and then picking a bit of bone out of the spot that he has bitten off.

"...when you say it like that, it sounds like you've had inedible chicken."

"You ever forage out of a dumpster?" Nitou takes another bite of his frog. "Believe me, inedible chicken is out there. It exists."

Haruto grimaces. "Why do these conversations always come back around to dumpsters?" It is not enough to put him off his feed, though, and he's taking another bite of fish.

Nitou considers this. "Well," he reasons, "that's where I go for food back home if I'm really desperate, and here in an Arena?" He pauses to swallow the mouthful of frog he's been talking around. "I'm really desperate."

"Okay. Okay, when we get back home?" There's a dramatic pause while he takes a bigger bite of fish and hastily chews and swallows it. "You are not eating out of any more dumpsters, even if I have to follow you around and feed you myself." If it sounds ridiculously over-protective, well... it is. But he's not thinking of it like that. He is just trying to think of some way that will make Nitou's existence moderately less gross. Honest.

And maybe dare the sponsors into dropping something to eat alongside these fish and frogs.

It does sound over-protective, but you know what? Nitou doesn't care right now. They're on camera, the cameras eat that up. "Are you kidding me? Can you even cook?"

...which is actually an honest question, because subterfuge is not Nitou's strongest skill. "I mean, I've cooked way more than you."

It's getting easier and easier to play towards the cameras, the more time he spends in Nitou's company. If he weren't so hungry, he might worry about that.

"Mpph!" That's a sound of protest through a mouthful of fish, and then a few more similar sounds follow as he picks a fishbone out of his mouth and tosses it aside. "...I do! I've made breakfast for people before!" Which was never as good as the breakfasts that Mr. Wajima put together. He could never keep the yolks solid on fried eggs, and tended to almost burn the bacon. But that totally counts as cooking. "You've cooked over campfires more than me."

"And what's the important thing here?" Nitou grins. "Campfires. There's not gonna be an Arena where they give us a real kitchen." He pauses, debating how much he wants to play this up for the cameras. "Even if they did, I'd worry it would explode or kill you with a gas leak or something. So here? Let me do it."

"Aah, I don't know, didn't they have a cafe in one of them? A museum one?" He waggles that fish-on-a-stick at Nitou once. Just once, because the waggling is threatening to let the rest of the meat on it drop away. He's quick to reach out, catch it, and stuff it in his mouth.

"....I shouldn't complain about being spoiled."

"Yeah, but still, that's not the same!" Nitou stuffs more food into his own mouth. "Nothing wrong with being spoiled, but someday, you gotta learn how to take care of yourself when nothing else is there!"

"It's totally the same!" No, it's not. But it's fun to keep the argument going. He stifles laughter with another bite of fish, and then another... and then it's all gone but the head and bones. And okay, he's nibbling at the head a little, too.

"Hey, I have been learning to take care of myself! I've figured out rabbit snares!" And he's very proud of himself for this.

"So have you caught anything with the rabbit snares?" Nitou's grinning now. "That's the really important part."

"Yes! Rabbits." Well, one rabbit, which was a considerable triumph on his part, but he doesn't want to brag.

(That's a lie, he really wants to brag, but Nitou is not the right person to brag to about that.)

"So don't think I'm going to just lie around and let you take care of everything, alright! I've got this."

"Is that so?" Nitou grins approvingly. "Well, alright! My rival should be able to hunt." He takes another bite of his food. "So next time, you can take care of dinner."

"Next time, I will!" He'll have surely caught more things by then. Foraged up more food. He'll... the first word that comes to mind is impress, but no, shouldn't it be show Nitou? They are 'rivals', after all...

He dismisses the thought with a shake of his head and reaches for another skewered fish. "Though I hear you can't live on rabbit forever. Is that true?"

"Well...probably. I think you need to throw a vegetable in there every so often." Nitou thinks on it for a minute. "But rabbits eat vegetables...so maybe you can!"

"Well... vegetables, sure, but I thought it was something about fat, too...." Nitou probably knows best, though. He shrugs and bites into the new fish with a content sound.

Garrett had learned that extreme caution paid off well here, as it had back home. However, he'd also learned that people here were sometimes willing to become allies, if for no reason other than necessity. Most of the tributes didn't seem cut out for these kind of games, after all.

The smell of cooking meat had drawn him to the campsite, but he hesitates, staying hidden in the shadows just a little longer. The kid had one of the markers over his head. He had some kind of power that he'd tried. That could be dangerous. But then again, he'd met that black mage creature a while back, and he'd been about as harmless as your average little kid. He watches Kousuke cook for a while longer, scrutinizing his every move, searching for weapons and any sign the kid would use them if he had company. He seemed remarkably relaxed for a tribute in the arena, and he didn't seem like a thug or a mercenary.

And so, with his hand near the pocket knife he'd received, Garrett steps cautiously into the fire's light. One wrong move, and he knew he'd have to risk activing The Primal to get out alive.

"What is that?"

"It's lunch, that's what it is!" Nitou grins proudly. He had completely missed the fact that he was being watched, and he's just happy he's got food of some sort. "This stuff's just falling from the sky, right? I think it's edible."

"You trust them to not poison us with things falling from the sky?"

Paranoid, yes, but could anyone blame him? They were all here to kill or be killed from their captors' amusement.

"Nope!" Nitou says cheerfully as he checks on what he's cooking, "But I decided I'd rather die from poisoning than die from starving to death."

...which is actually pretty much how he went out in his first Arena. Some people never learn.

It seemed a waste to rain down fish and frogs, and this made Altaïr irrationally angry where he would have normally counted it as a blessing. This strange "weather" masked his movements as everyone was distracted. Like the young man dashing back and forth on the castle grounds—with a chamber pot?

It was one of the more strange things he'd seen, and that alone warranted curiosity. He was also slightly irritated that someone would just run around in the open like that in a murder arena. Someone had to tell him that not only was he conspicuous, but also that chamber pots weren't fit to be eaten out of.

He dismounted his horse and left her in the shade. The last thing he needed was this fool to steal his hard-won mare. He approached casually, but he used a wall as cover to hide most of his approach, and kept a hand on the hilt of his newfound sword. His annoyance suddenly doubled.

"What are you doing?" he snapped. "Don't you know you're an easy target out here?"

"Dude, I already got the little glowing fire thing floating over my head; I'm an easy target anywhere," Nitou points out helpfully. "And it's worth it to get a free meal!" He should probably be a bit more concerned about the way he hadn't noticed this guy was so close and also had a sword, but hey, food. He's all about the possible meal.

"You cannot enjoy a free meal if you are dead!" Too late, he realized his hand had strayed to his hilt. He took it off and tried to keep a level head. "And why are you using a chamber pot to catch it?"

He had, by now, been introduced to toilets, which didn't look too much different from Roman privies. However, he still didn't discount the possibility that the chamber pots in the arena were used, and he wasted no time in calling Nitou out on his foolishness.

"It's a chance I'm willing to take!" He looks down at the pot. "What's a chamber pot? Looks like it's just a pot to me."

Some wouldn't have the heart to reveal the truth to Nitou. Altaïr was not such a person. Though it might grieve someone to hear life-changing news, the Assassins were always about fighting lies. "Nothing is true" was one of their mottos.

"You shit in it."

Nitou stops, looks down at the pot he's holding, and stares at it for a long, long moment.

"SERIOUSLY?!" And he drops the pot. "What are they doing, keeping that under the bed?! Shouldn't that be in the bathroom?"

"It is difficult to pipe water into every bedroom, so..."

He realized almost immediately his mistake. Nitou and others here were used to having latrines in every other room. He eyed the dead frogs spilling out of the pot.

"...This arena is based on a world similar to mine, where extensive piping is hard to do. Not every bedroom has a bathroom close by. Even the rich keep chamber pots. They are emptied as needed into dung carts... Anyway, you should find something else to catch these."

How he went from bursting upon this person with a blade to explaining the ins and outs of waste removal, he had no idea.

"DUDE!" Nitou is horrified by this, as well as dismayed at the food he's wasted. "They ought to put WARNINGS on these things!" Yes, warnings in a death arena. Of course.

"Their intent is not to watch us survive," he grumbled, deadpan. Did this guy seriously believe the Gamemakers prioritized his well-being? "If someone is killed by dysentery, it is... well, perhaps someone thinks it is entertaining. Anyway, you had better find some new frogs."

"I got some of that hand sanitizer junk," Nitou muses. "I could probably wash 'em off."

"Perhaps..." This guy wasn't European, but he seemed to carry the same dismissive sense for cleanliness they did. Their doctors were just awful, as likely to slash something vital as heal someone. Altaïr wrinkled his nose.

"You should just find some other container... What is hand sanitizer?"

Suddenly it was his turn to be out of the medical advancement loop.

Look, this is a survival situation. You can't really afford to be too picky in a survival situation. "It's this stuff!" And Nitou produces a bottle of the stuff. "It's got a lot of alcohol in it, and it's supposed to kill germs." He squints at the bottle. "99.9 percent of germs!"

He, too, squinted at the bottle, but with skepticism knitting his brows together.

"Do you really believe everything you read on a bottle?" He came from an era of quacks selling animal urine and calling it a cure-all. "And what about the other 0.1 percent of 'germs'?"

"I dunno, it smells like rubbing alcohol. It's what they use in hospitals and science classes and stuff." Nitou opens the bottle to confirm this. "And I figure I'll take care of the rest of it if I can find some running water or a bottle of it, something like that."

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Why don't Sponsors ever send mayonnaise?

The Edge of the Forest

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And fade?

[Edge of the Forest]

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castle

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