thearena | "Some men just want to watch the world burn."

Who| Damian Wayne and anyone!
What| Burning a body turns out to be a less-than-awesome idea. Fire and sickness ensue, w h o o p s.
Where| Candy arena.
When| Middle of week two.
Warnings/Notes| Nothing in particular! I'll edit as necessary.

Nightfall was welcome. Damian reveled in it. It was about damn time that the bright, obnoxious colors of this world dimmed and the song of those stupid creatures faded away. As much as he enjoyed it, though, it was time to disrupt the night. He had a duty to at least one of those fallen tributes, regardless of how whiny and annoying said tribute happened to be.

Early on, Damian had made it a point to get that body somewhere a little less public. There were no battoys to be stolen or secret identities to be found out, but the fact that the bodies had been left strewn about, like old dolls that the gamemakers had grown tired of, disgusted Damian beyond belief. These people didn't deserve that. If he could do something about all of them, he would, but he couldn't. He could barely stand to be around them at this point, with how badly they'd deteriorated.

He held his breath as he struck the match and dropped it onto the rotting, sugar-covered body of some whiny guy named Tim Drake. He wasn't doing this for him, he told himself. It was for them. It was for the symbol that united them. He intended to honor it even if they weren't wearing it. It was also a "fuck you" to the gamemakers or whoever the hell thought it was acceptable to leave the bodies of (mostly) innocent people lying around like they were nothing.

Damian couldn't hold his breath forever, though. Eventually, he has to take in the awful smell of smoke and rot and something vaguely toxic, and if he wasn't feeling sick before, he's definitely feeling it now. So, you know, don't mind Damian. While the fire spreads (whoops...), he'll just be over here. Throwing up. No big deal.

He told Dick once that he wouldn't let the dead get to him anymore, but you know what? This really sucks.

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The sound of her voice causes wariness in him, and the sight of the weapon, even though not drawn, doesn't really help. But she makes no move to attack him right away, and the fact that she seems to just block the fire is... strange. He doesn't know what to think about it. Damian relaxes for now, but just a little. He's still suspicious of everything that moves.

"Stupid poison," he complains, followed by an attempt to stifle a cough. It's a weakness, one he doesn't want to emphasize, even if there isn't much he can do to hide it. "Didn't expect the fumes."

Well, he did, but he didn't expect them to be that bad. As a kid, though, it might just sound like an excuse. And maybe, in a way, it kind of is.

Venus reaches up and pinches her nose, letting her tongue hang out her mouth like the tail of a letter 'Q'. "Doesn't even need to be poison. Caramelized corpse just flat-out never smells like roses. You okay?"

She holds the other hand out, elbow resting at her side, as if to remind him that she hasn't pulled the sword from her belt. She knows better than to assume every kid here is docile, but she also knows that no one really wants to watch a grown woman beat up a pre-pubescent boy.

"You know that guy you're flambeing?"

Edited 2013-07-30 19:01 (UTC)

"I'm fine," he says, though he still sounds pretty exasperated. Perhaps saying, 'I will be fine.' would be more appropriate, but again, that would be admitting that something was wrong. He'd argue that it isn't the first time he's burned corpses, either, but that would mean explaining things he doesn't really feel like talking about right now. Because of that, he's actually a little grateful that she asks about the body.

"And yes," he nods. "I know him. He's... someone I know from home. He died when the arena opened. I thought it better than allowing him to be eaten by these bizarre creatures."

Even if he was already dead, having your body torn apart by Doki-Doki seems incredibly embarrassing. Even so, Damian seems sincere about what he says.

"The singing Neopets, huh?" She looks back at the body and then remembers oh, yeah. Kids generally take death a little harder than adults. Just like that, memories come flooding back, of opening her eyes to the blasted house where she killed her parents when she was only a little younger than Damian, here.

It's an inconvenient memory, so she shoves it out of mind with so much mental force that a tiny grunt escapes her lungs.

"I'm sorry. Not sure getting turned into a human s'more is a ton better though, honestly."

He'd say that Tim would appreciate it, but truthfully, he couldn't be sure if that would be the case. To say they didn't get along was a gross understatement, and Damian figured that Tim would sooner think it was meant as an insult rather than a gesture of respect. Realistically, Tim should know better, but sometimes, it was like they looked for reasons not to like each other. (In fact, that might not be far from the truth.)

"It's a matter of dignity," he explains, shrugging a shoulder. "As in, he should be grateful that I bothered to preserve what little bit of dignity he has left by not allowing him to be eaten."

Damian would be lying if he said he didn't care if his actions were misunderstood, but it didn't matter in the end. He wasn't doing this for Tim.

Venus laughs and starts walking, hoping Damian will walk with her. It's human instinct to herd together, to hover around other people who don't appear to be a threat when the unknown is pressing in. She doesn't trust him, but she doesn't mind taking the front and letting him stay safe at her back, with an open target.

"Spared him getting eaten or having some loser come by with a sharpie and doodle mustaches all over him." She giggles and covers her mouth with her fingertips. "If I weren't a classy lady I'd do that to these corpses."

He hesitates for a moment, but ends up deciding to follow her anyway. He was feeling somewhat better now (somewhat), but getting away from the fire and that awful smell really isn't such a bad idea.

"He would deserve it." The thought hadn't even occurred to Damian, but you know what? He could totally get behind that. "Next time, you have my full permission to draw facial hair on him. I doubt he could grow his own anyway."

"If I had a marker, I totally would. Maybe some charcoal." Venus grins and practically saunters. "So, what's your name, pyro?"

"Damian." He offers the name without trouble, and doesn't even seem to have an aversion to the nickname. He doesn't mind her so far. "You?"

"Venus." She winks. "Dee Milo. Get it? It's a pun."

He raises an eyebrow.

"..."

No. No, he doesn't get it.

"Uh. My first name's Dee."

God, introductions are awkward. She wants to go back to being famous and getting to skip the A/S/L crap.

"Some men just want to watch the world burn."

It's all good! c:

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