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thearena2015-06-07 12:38 am
celebrityskinned) wrote in thearena2015-06-07 12:38 am
Entry tags:
Pretending There's Nothing That You Aren't Prepared For [Open]
WHO| Venus Dee Milo and open!
WHAT| Venus teleports around the Arena setting off danger and distributing supplies.
WHEN| Week One
WHERE| Everywhere in the Arena
WARNINGS| Death, explosions. Venus having some suicidal thoughts.
Venus has been dying for far longer than the two days she's been in the Arena. Ever since she got herself banged up on that mission against the Capitol, she's been biding time with increasing difficulty, trying to make it to the Arena so she can cover up for the internal bleeding that's killing her from the inside out. It's gotten more difficult, but thankfully she's had Porrim on her side, who's been able to taper off the amount of in-person interviews Venus has had to do and cut semi-nude shoots down to zero.
To finally be able to die instead of fighting it is a strange form of release. Venus thinks to herself as she crawls through the wormholes she rips into the fabric of space and time that it probably says something about her that death always feels like a relief, like relaxing after a long day's labor, rather than as something to fear. Having to stay alive has always been such an inconvenience for her, and she became a superhero because it was a clear-cut path towards dramatic, beautiful, and permanent ruin. It's eased in the last two years, this dogged pursuit towards a final end, and yet it's always there with her.
And so she's strangely sort of happy as she teleports around the Arena, looking for worthy allies to disperse her Cornucopia supplies to. The Gamemakers are coming for her, with rats and fires and claps of lightning. She emerges from nowhere, literally pulling herself from places out of eyesight or earshot, like a migraine in quick-motion to anyone watching where she blips back into reality, with a wild, jagged, beautiful smile on her face and a bag over her shoulder.
"Hey! You!" she'll call.
WHAT| Venus teleports around the Arena setting off danger and distributing supplies.
WHEN| Week One
WHERE| Everywhere in the Arena
WARNINGS| Death, explosions. Venus having some suicidal thoughts.
Venus has been dying for far longer than the two days she's been in the Arena. Ever since she got herself banged up on that mission against the Capitol, she's been biding time with increasing difficulty, trying to make it to the Arena so she can cover up for the internal bleeding that's killing her from the inside out. It's gotten more difficult, but thankfully she's had Porrim on her side, who's been able to taper off the amount of in-person interviews Venus has had to do and cut semi-nude shoots down to zero.
To finally be able to die instead of fighting it is a strange form of release. Venus thinks to herself as she crawls through the wormholes she rips into the fabric of space and time that it probably says something about her that death always feels like a relief, like relaxing after a long day's labor, rather than as something to fear. Having to stay alive has always been such an inconvenience for her, and she became a superhero because it was a clear-cut path towards dramatic, beautiful, and permanent ruin. It's eased in the last two years, this dogged pursuit towards a final end, and yet it's always there with her.
And so she's strangely sort of happy as she teleports around the Arena, looking for worthy allies to disperse her Cornucopia supplies to. The Gamemakers are coming for her, with rats and fires and claps of lightning. She emerges from nowhere, literally pulling herself from places out of eyesight or earshot, like a migraine in quick-motion to anyone watching where she blips back into reality, with a wild, jagged, beautiful smile on her face and a bag over her shoulder.
"Hey! You!" she'll call.
no subject
He moved close again and pulled her into another gentle hug, his fingers brushing through her hair. "Okay. Is there anything I can do?"
no subject
"Keep me company while I catch my breath." Using his arm to steady herself, she takes a seat on the floor, crossing her legs and keeping her hand to her distended abdomen almost as if she were pregnant. "And pay it forward, but I know you will anyway."
She smiles up at him and pats the ground next to her. "You know, like, ten Arenas ago? I would never have said that. I was just out to get mine and die in the most beautiful way I could. I killed Steve Rogers, for God's sake. And now I'm twenty-two and- you know, maybe America has a point with putting the drinking age where it's at. I've grown so much."
Something about her sounds as if she's giving her own eulogy already.
no subject
"Yeah, but we never think that at the time. Growing up isn't easy, there's all the crap to deal with and then you can throw realizing you were wrong and everyone else was right into that mix to make it worse."
He could remember his hot-shot self clearly and he could remember even thinking how none of the older cyborgs knew what they were talking about when they said he still 'had to grow up.' Eighteen going on 59 was plenty grown in his opinion. Over thirty years later, he could definitely look back and notice how wrong he'd been.
He gave a smirk. "We probly wouldn't have gotten along so well if I'd been around back then. Unless I'd been younger too, then we might have just terrorized the town together." And probably terrorized each other too. "Course, as much as it might say one thing, it says something else you were able to off Captain America of all people. Not saying it's generally a good thing, but it's sure as hell impressive."
no subject
The pain of her injuries and the fever from her sepsis are starting to unspool her mind, drawing out thoughts that normally would be sewn up into something cogent before exiting her mouth. She rests her knee against his.
"Well, it doesn't count for much. He just stood there to make a point. Made me look like a real asshole." Venus thinks she could have taken him, but it certainly would have been a fight. "Anyway. I think young you could have used someone on your side. I know I could have. But it's better to have you late than never, Jet."
no subject
"Because God likes to have a laugh like everyone else. I don't know if anyone's told you this, but God's an asshole." He gives her a smirk, but it fades a little, not in sincerity but in luster. "Yeah, you're probably right. I guarantee he wouldn't have agreed, but there's a lot of mistakes back there that he wouldn't have made if someone had had his back."
His hand went to her knee that was in contact with his. "I'm glad I've got you now, too. We can be on each other's sides and maybe stop a mistake or two from happening along the way."
no subject
"Maybe we could have made better mistakes." She shakily drags herself to her feet, wheezing still, using his shoulder to steady her. "I should get moving. If I stay here too long, I might blow you to kingdome come on accident. And then Albert will have my head..."
She's forgotten Albert isn't here anymore. She feels feverish and takes a step back from Jet.
no subject
That was what they could have done for each other, way back when they'd both needed it.
She rises and he's quick to follow, his hand darting out to grab her wrist as he steps forward. He knows Albert's supposed to be in 13, but there's a small look of pain to his face with her words. It's for the best that it happens, for all intents and purposes, Albert is still dead.
"No, V, he's gone." His other hand comes up to her face and she's much warmer than she should be, which only makes him more insistent. "You're sick, stay here and rest some more."
He knew, he could see it in her face and hear it in her voice, she didn't have long, but that didn't make him any better at simply accepting that.
no subject
"No." It isn't negotiable, because her death will not be like slipping into warm, dark water. She's only just now keeping her body from ripping itself apart with a supernatural fury, a frenzy that will tear apart any matter, living or dead, in her immediate vicinity. And if Jet's noticing how hard she's trying - if her ability to hide the pain has finally peeled away, after weeks and weeks of masking her injuries - then it's time to go.
She forces herself to stagger back from him, waving the hand that is still warm from his shoulder.
"I'll see you on the other side," she says, as the dimension warps around her and swallows her up from the ankles first, as she tucks herself away into a pocket of space and time. And then she's gone.