lessthanelementary: (Default)
Neffa a Reyeth ([personal profile] lessthanelementary) wrote in [community profile] thearena2013-07-08 11:09 am

[i'm feelin' like a star, you can't stop my shine]

Who| Neffa, Enjolras, Beck, Julie, Venus, and anyone else who'd like to run into Neffa!
What| Neffa's gotten separated from Jay; doki-doki battles, minor skirmishes, and headlong sprints across sugar fields abound
Where| Arena 1, around
When| Week 2, even early week 3
Warnings| Just usual arena stuff (violence, etc.) for now!

"Stay here," he'd said. "I'll take a look around," he'd said. "I'll be back in an hour; keep quiet and we'll decide our direction when I come back," he'd said. Well-- it had been an hour, and then two hours, and every stupid chocolate tree and gumdrop meadow looked like every other stupid chocolate tree and gumdrop meadow, and he'd lost sight of the beacon of Jay's blue hair in the distance long ago.

Neffa was lost, stuck wandering in ever-widening circles with blue synthetic dreadlocks falling in his face and his bizarre, sparkling club held ready in sweaty hands. A pouch of food had come sailing down from the sky earlier, with a note from Timaeus; he'd slipped the note pointedly into his pocket, rather than throwing it away (Maybe he'll remember that), and walked tipped to one side now, the better to keep an arm clamped over the pouch slung around one shoulder. It made his gait more awkward, but he wasn't risking a sneak attack on it.

Everything was sticky. There was no avoiding it. Every inch of skin and clothing that had brushed any part of the blindingly bright landscape had come away sugary, and in the persistent sunlight had melted into a coating that he could feel without touching. He'd been ready to club some sense into Jay a few hours ago, but now he found himself wishing more and more desperately to see him again, still sitting beside their comfortingly heavy bag of supplies and looking worriedly out for him. If Jay managed to get their best means for survival stolen....

He readjusted his grip on the handle of the bat. Gods. Was it just him, or was the music getting louder?

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