thearena | (no subject)

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Who| De and Callista, De and Open
What| De creepin' around the park.
Where| She's creepin' around everywhere, let me know in your subject line!
When| The last few days.
Warnings/Notes| None atm.

At first she'd just holed up in the safest place she could fine, the pain too intense to even imagine running around in a death match. She had expected someone to ferret her out and off her pretty fast, quickly ending her trip to the unhappiest place on earth.

Except...no one did. The pain didn't really fade, as De was fairly certain something in there was broken, but hunger and thirst pushed her out. And it wasn't the first time she had grit her teeth and bared it.

Luckily, the skirt provided plenty of fabric to bind her chest, which helped with the pain. She slept during the day, when it was brightest, burying herself in her skirt, and then moved from dusk till dawn, trying to stay hidden as much as possible while searching for food and drink.

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Callista has stuck mostly to Tomorrowland, making the Star Tours ride her base of operations. The paintings of the planets she knew was too comforting for her to leave them for other areas of the park.

She hadn't really come across a lot because of that lack of exploration. She probably should have, given her place as a Jedi, but this wasn't a world with a goal in mind. She was being broadcast to the world she was in and felt like the best way to fight against that was to be as boring as possible. She spent most of her time meditating, coming out to find more supplies.

She was weak with hunger, but she knew where the plants were that had edible food. She left to find them again when she saw the movement of another woman in the darkness.

"You're injured," she said, making sure her presence was known. Her voice was concerned, not threatening at all, but her interaction with the Marshall made her realize that people were just as mistrusting of concern. At least he had come to realize she was sincere.

Her and Sammy had made it to Disneyland three times in their lives, always on someone else's dime. And each time, Star Tours had been at the top of their list to cram in as much as possible.

So there was comfort here. Good memories. And lot of hiding places.

Which meant she wasn't surprised someone else was in here. She went still at the voice, but by the time she spoke up, it seemed pretty futile to pretend to not be there.

"Yeah, got a little busted up on opening night."

Callista moved a little closer then. "How bad is it?" she asked, uncertain if she could do anything to help but wanting to try if she's allowed.

"Broken, at least."

She was fairly certain if something was punctures, but this point she'd be dead. But she'd never seen a punctured lung left untreated for so long before, so she wasn't sure.

Callista moved closer then, careful that her hands were visible so that the stranger knew she wasn't armed.

"Did you re-set it?"

(Did you wanna continue or handwave this?))

One can left. Two handed off to the boy who'd taught him how to tie a snare, two eaten (and the hacked-off lids in his pocket, better cutting implements than the rock he'd been using up to that point), one still wrapped up in the remains of his cape and clutched close to his chest, the last thing left to sell. He was hungry (starving? Was this starving yet?), but the can might yet buy him life, and he wasn't opening it until his hunger overcame his need to bargain.

He found her because he almost tripped over her, when the sun was high overhead and his nerves fraying in the heat, and suddenly from the swampy tangle of underbrush emerged a flash of unnatural color. He would have bolted - he always bolted, these past few days especially - but he took only a single hasty, stumbling step back and stopped, because he couldn't tell whether or not she was dead.

...She's here, stupid. That should have told him from the first; he'd had yet to see a body on the ground here, despite the cannons booming periodically overhead. Maybe she's almost dead, he thought next, and disliked the immediate flicker of hope that followed the thought.

Run, or speak. Make up your mind. ...A compromise. He coughed. She didn't look in any condition to follow him if he bolted, and, well-- if she was carrying anything worth taking...

In her life, sleeping soundly wasn't really ever an option, and the rustling leaves woke her.

But at that point, playing dead seemed about the best, and only option. Until he coughed.

He knew she wasn't dead, which meant he was paying the minimum amount of attention. And he hadn't shanked her on the spot. In fact, the cough was kinda considerate.

So she might as well be social.

"You always so polite in yours death matches?"

He took another hasty step back at that-- alive enough to talk might mean alive enough to attack, and he didn't intend to stick around for that. But when nothing came flying at him from the underbrush, he hesitated, because "deciding whether or not to attack" was potentially dangerous, but "unable to attack" was almost always the same thing as "willing to negotiate." Neffa was willing to stick around for that possibility.

To be a threat, or not to be? You should have thought of that before you opened your mouth. The problem with threats was that they sometimes required backing up; he wasn't killing anyone with a scrap of tin. Better to leave it implied.

"Until I'm given a reason not to be," he replied. He pulled one of his pitiful bent-metal shivs from his pocket - not a threat, but a warning. I am armed. "It's just as easy to steal from the near-dead as from the dead, after all."

Come on. Tell me why I shouldn't steal from you.

(Did you wanna continue or handwave this?))

Ever since that weird feast adventure, Lindsey loitered between Fantasyland and Tomorrowland. It wasn't like there was any one place better than the next, but Tomorrowland had fresh fruits and Fantasyland offered places away from the immediate kill zone of people gathering to fruit trees.

So he lounged against the broken carousel peeling an orange, looking up when he heard the approach of footsteps from another end.

He tensed, one hand not quite moving towards his metal bar but ready for it at any moment if required. "Who's there?"

She went still, sinking back into the shadows. She was in no shape for a fight, and hadn't expected anyone to be chilling around at night.

Making herself as small as possible, she went silent. Hopefully he'd leave before finding out about the unknown. And finding out the unknown was pretty pathetic competition.

Lindsey frowned, unsure whether the silence meant whoever it was had scurried away or was trying to circle around him to get him.

"Hey," he called out again, warily scanning the area for any signs of movements. A rat caught his eye, but he dismissed it quickly for other signs.

"I'm not going to hurt you..." If they wanted to believe him. "Not in the mood. Come out."

(Did you wanna continue or handwave this?))

(( I wanted to say continue for the CR, but I don't know where to go and given how I'm nonexistent lately, probably best to not continue. :\ ))

Gabriel had been hiding out on a shaky rooftop, scouting here and there, but mostly trying to stay hidden while people picked each other off. Until he could find something useful to fight with, all he had were his hands and they weren't exactly the strongest right now. It was good to know that death here probably wouldn't be permanent, but that didn't make it sound fun. At least this time he actually knew what he was in for.

He spotted De walking past his current hiding spot and he almost let her go past without a word, but the thing was that he kind of sort of liked her for the same reasons that he kind of sort of liked Dean. If she kills him, he's going to find Castiel and blame him for all of this. All of it.

Leaning over the edge of the rickety roof with just his hair and eyes showing, he stage whispered loudly to her. "Psssst. Lady-Dean."

Her first instinct was to tense up, go into flight or fight (and right now, it was pretty much just fight.)

And then the words sank in. Lady Dean. Which mean it was the Trickster.

Which was about the closest thing to an ally she'd run into so far.

"Yeah? Where are you?"

((Since this is so far back, if you wanna hand wave we can, but I felt it was pretty plot relevant, so would like to thread it as well))

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Tomorrowland

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Adventureland?? :D

Sounds good :D

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Fantasyland

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Adventureland

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