Neffa a Reyeth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lessthanelementary) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2013-07-08 11:09 am
lessthanelementary) wrote in thearena2013-07-08 11:09 am
Entry tags:
[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?
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?
no subject
Her eyes are outlined with charcoal on the top, giving her a smoky, made-up effect. She's painstakingly knit the front of her hair into tiny braids to hide that it's getting gross and greasy. She periodically bites on her lips to redden them. Her zipper on the front of her catsuit is pulled down just enough to reveal the connecter of her bra, but not enough to be obscene. At this point, looking even slightly put-together is going to set her ahead of most of the people she's run into, and a girl has got to work with what she's got.
It's unlucky that the medical withdrawals are giving her sweats that leave disgusting stains along her underarms, and it's fortunate that the audience can't actually smell her (she hopes). She's sure that the combination of body odor and sugar, after over two weeks out here, is noxious enough to be mistaken for an unfortunate mutant power.
"Heads up, we got a white sister joining us," Venus says, grinning and twinkling her fingers at Julie. The girl from the elevator - Venus can't remember her name right now, but she's bad with names when it comes to strangers she isn't trying to get something out of. "That's okay, we're here in peace too. Unless any of us are about to hop into cannibalism, I think we got bigger concerns than each other, right now."
Keep the peace. Venus' thoughts are like a fly trapped against a windowpane, buzzing in a panic, but she keeps it from showing on her body except for the way her fingers drum over the edge of the prosthetic leg, the way her teeth grind in the back.