thecapitol | Freedoooom! (Or Conditional Freedom, Anyway)

Entry tags:

Freedoooom! (Or Conditional Freedom, Anyway)

WHO| Neeshka and OPEN!
WHAT| Resurrection is awesome
WHEN| Day 8-ish of the arena
WHERE| Aaaanywhere! District 5 common room for Lindsey, central commons for Tony, the roof or training room or whereeeeeever anybody wants to meet her :B
WARNING/NOTES| No warnings as of now!

Neeshka was somewhere between relieved, annoyed, and ecstatic. Nobody had told her that they were doing resurrection spells, (or whatever it was that brought them back from dying), here! That was the biggest source of annoyance. That, and that she'd gone down so easily. She'd faced down hordes of orcs and walking dead and cultists, and one girl with a shark-bone spear had taken her down. Khelgar would have really laughed at her, if he knew.

Rather than feel bad that he wasn't there, she told herself it was just a good thing he didn't know.

The fact that she wasn't dead-- though meeting Mask would've been pretty neat, she supposed-- despite clearly remembering the hole in her belly and the feeling of life slipping away was responsible for the relief. It wasn't like she hadn't felt that sort of pain before, so it wasn't as terrible as it could've been; she had come awfully close to dying on more than on occasion, after all. The elation came from being back in the opulent quarters she'd been given before, with utter freedom until the next arena started up, and free food and parties with rich people in all that time. It was, to a poor thief in a big city, like heaven.

So despite the lingering ache in her side and chest, she was humming cheerfully to herself as she slipped out of her room that next morning and started off to see what she could see that day. And maybe what she could steal. This funny outfit with leather pants and high-collared shirt (in bright green, no less) had plenty of places to stash things, after all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He'd come down here for a drink. Not that there weren't drinks to be had up in the District 12 suite, but he had come to learn that they stocked things more along the lines of Haymitch's tastes than his own and that left him... very little. Because Haymitch was perhaps the only person Tony had ever met in his life who could drink him under the table. Already it had been a less that amazing day and he wanted a goddamn martini and all there was left upstairs was terribly piney gin.

So, downstairs it was. And probably for the best. He'd been cooped up there for days now. Some fresh air would probably do him some good. And low-and-behold, he spies a freshly-deceased tribute walking around!

"Good show," Tony says as a sort of off-handed greeting to the girl. He's never met her before, but... well, after his embarrassingly short sting in the Arena he's had a lot of time to watch his competition in action. Learn as much about them as he can.

He wouldn't necessarily say that he had his favourites, because that seemed a bit barbaric, but there was some strange part of him that had enjoyed the little demon-thing. She had spunk and he thought that was a good quality in a person. Usually. Whatever she was. Tail and all; he didn't think she was quite as human as most of them. But truth be told, Tony was kind of getting used to the whole non-human thing. But he was never one to pass up an opportunity to learn more.

Her cheer only slightly rattled by the fellow in her own district's common room who, apparently, knew all about demons and types of demons and such, Neeshka still actually jumped a little at the voice. Then she gave him a weak sort of grin to compose herself, and scratched at the back of her head-- making her hair stand up even worse than before-- as she answered.

"Good show? What, did I do something funny?"

No, it hadn't actually occurred to her that the people here would be watching everything she did. The fellow tributes. She was a smart tiefling in some things, but sometimes she did rather miss the obvious.

"Not particularly," Tony shrugs at her. "It was more in reference to your big debut. Didn't tap out too early. Comparatively. So? Good show; nice job; you know... a compliment, I guess," he shrugs again and take a long pull from his freshly acquired drink and offers her a bit of a grin.

Halfway through that, Neeshka finally cottons on to what he's talking about. She was torn between the indignation and annoyance of having all her secrets out in the open like that-- for an audience was one thing, but for all the other people she was fighting? no fair!-- and being flattered at the compliment. She settled on the latter, and her confused little grin turned into a much larger and only slightly sheepish one. "Well... thanks. I guess if everybody has to be watching, at least it's better if I don't make an idiot of myself, right?"

"Perhaps. Though I hear that strategy has worked in the past. The whole... fool thing," Tony waves his hand in the air at nothing, "Not that you were. It's just been done. Secret's out now though. Wouldn't work for the next round."

For only half a moment, Tony pauses, tilts his head and hardly so much as takes a breath before he switches their conversation direction. "What's the tail thing about, anyway? Its it just for aesthetics, or some blip in evolution most of us missed in our own realities? Better balance? Life in trees? Or is it more theologically related? Fire and brimstone and all that.."

Subtly has never been a strength of his.

"Yeah, if I'd known I'd be coming back after, I'd have played things differently." Neeshka wrinkles her nose at the thought. If she'd known, she'd have done a lot of things differently. Like less hiding, and more killing, probably. Not to mention more weapon-grabbing.

Oh, well. Too late now, and she can at least plot for next time, whenever that happens to be.

For now, she huffs at him with half a smile and said tail flicks from side to side. "I'm surprised, the other guy I ran into totally knew. I'm a tiefling." Well, all right, the other guys had no idea what a tiefling was, and just assumed she was a demon through-and-through. But still. They sort of knew, and she didn't mind needling this guy a little.

"Sorry," Tony shrugs though he doesn't particularly sound sorry. Not at all, really. "Lots of different flavors around here sometimes. And I don't like to make assumptions. I'm more of a facts-first kind of guy."

That at least was mostly true. Not that a lack of facts ever stopped him from jumping right into things. But even so, people said a lot of things around here and Tony had a feeling that only a very small percentage of it was actual fact. This little thing before him very well might be a true blue demon. But that, he was starting to learn, could mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people.

Since he doesn't seem to know what a tiefling is, and he's apparently a "facts-first" kind of guy, and since she doesn't really see the harm, Neeshka explains. "A tiefling's part demon. My granddad. The rest of me's human, though, and I promise I'm not cursed or unlucky or going to hex you, or anything." The way she says that, it's obvious she's had people accuse her of just that.

She doesn't, though, promise she won't steal anything. That would be lying. But she doesn't have to mention it, either.

Her explanation earns her little more than a shrug from Tony as he tries to decide what information seems important to retain. Not cursed. No hexes. That seems a plus.

"Seems like that would be a complicated mating ritual," he muses. "For your granddad I mean. Probably your grandmother as well. Cross-species thing seems like it has the potential for complications."

"Yeeeeeah, I try not to think about it too much," Neeshka admitted with a little giggle. "I mean, I guess one of them would've had to polymorph, or else-- yeah. Don't try to think about it! Anyway, um, hi. I'm Neeshka, if you didn't pick that out of the... illusion-show thing." And she actually didn't remember his name. She'd pretty much written off all the ones who'd died, not knowing they'd simply come back, and relegated what names she'd remembered to the "to be forgotten" pile. Oops?

"Tony," he offers her, unable to keep the questioning look off his face over the 'illusion-show-thing' comment. Not technically savvy, this one. Not a point in her favour, but he couldn't really blame her. Did demons typically know how to operate a television remote? He wasn't exactly up to speed on demon capabilities. "Nice to meet you, officially. Grim as our circumstances might be."

She might have known, if she hadn't been from magical medieval times. Gadgets were something she could usually figure out, but she hadn't yet really had the chance to try when it came to televisions. "Eh." She waved a hand, and her tail, negligently at the "grim" comment. "If we die, they resurrect us. So it's better than it could've been. Back home, I wind up fighting a lot, too-- I mean, there is a war going on, and we are a gruop of adventurers stuck smack in the middle of it. So it's not really all that different. At least here we get nice food and comfy beds, instead of living on the road, right?"

Lindsey was adjusting quickly to this new dimension. So far, as attention seemed to be focused on the broadcasted deadly part of this reality show, he was able to move about largely unnoticed. He didn't expect it to last forever, as it was made obvious to him that he had somehow became an unwilling contestant to a 24 hour broadcasted reality TV.

But for now, he enjoyed being the celebrity with all the perks and none of the coverage.

So Lindsey was seated in the District 5 common lounge, feet up on the coffee table where his hearty breakfast was laid out, and staring at the big screen TV where some tribute was sleeping lazily. He looked up just as someone walked in and managed to keep his expression neutral from surprise. "Guess the jolly green backstabber isn't the only demon they dragged in, huh."

Neeshka stopped. She didn't remember that guy being part of her district, and she cocked her head in curiosity. Nor, actually, was he the first to assume she was actually a demon, through and through. He wasn't even the first here, though usually back in Faerun it was somebody who didn't know much about demons.

"I'm not actually a demon, you know," she had to point out, like she always did. "Just my grand-dad, whoever he was. What are you doing in here? I thought you were district-- uh-- some other district."

"Not a demon?" Lindsey asked, sitting up and turning his attention to her. Being that there was nothing interesting happening on the television anyway, he tuned it out for the more intriguing character before him. "With horns, brown skin, and a tail? Coulda fooled me."

He shook his head and moved to pick up an apple from a bowl of fruits and tossed it between his hands. He recognized her demonic species, of course, perfect textbook sample and he met several of their subspecies while he worked at Wolfram and Hart. the only thing off the bat he couldn't recognize was her subspecies.

"No, you don't look like a Baatezu at all."

Shooting him an annoyed but confused sort of glare-- nobody had ever actually tried to pick out what kind of demon she was, before; nobody had ever cared!-- Neeshka shot back, "You must not've ever met a real one, then. They're a lot bigger than me. So are the horns. I'm only part demon. Grand-dad was the guy from the Lower Realms. Pay attention, mister whatever-your-name-is."

She turned to fold her arms across her chest to frown at him. "How do you know, anyway? Are you from Faerun, too?"

Doubting that calling her a runt would've gone over well, Lindsey chose to bite his apple instead. Swallowing first, he casually replied, "They can change their sizes, some of them. Depends on the subspecies. Just like how some have wings."

He shrugged and grinned up at the annoyed looking partial-demoness. "Nah, but I worked with some of them, for too, I suppose. My workplace was an interdimensional highway service station kinda place."

His grin widened. "Name's Lindsey McDonald, by the way."

Hey, she'd been called worse. Neeshka sauntered over to snatch up an apple of her own, dropping to sit on the arm of the couch he was so casually lounging on. "I'm Neeshka."

Introductions out of the way, she was way more interested in the rest of what he'd said. "You worked for demons? Really?" There was curiosity, wariness, and even a little eagerness in there. "What, are you some kind of warlock? I mean, most people get all weird about even part-demons, chase us around with pitchforks and stuff." She waved that off, with the as-yet-untouched apple. "I've never met anybody who worked for them before."

"Sure, you can call it that," was Lindsey's casual answer, not a bit of shame coloring his voice. "Demons, witches, half the things that go bump in the night out there." He shrugged, grinning proudly and settling back in his couch now that Neeshka stepped around.

"I'll say they're responsible for throwing me in here too. They weren't the throw a party type of employers for premature retirement but hey, sure beats being dead."

"Well, there is the dying over and over part," Neeshka reminded him with a grin of her own, though hers was less blatantly carefree, somewhere between sheepishly amused, relieved at his easy acceptance, and uncertain what to make of him. The dying over and over part, though, didn't really seem to bother her much. "But they bring you back, patch you all up so you can't tell you were even hurt, and then you get to go to parties and eat whatever you want. I mean, I call that not bad living, really."

For a gal used to living on bare subsistence as a thief and then adventurer, right now? This was like a slice of the heavens, or something.

Plus, nobody chased her out and called her names!

Lindsey took the news of repeated death about as cheerfully as Neeshka did. "Last place that did that to me, I didn't get to live like a celebrity." He tossed down the half finished apple and took up a bunch of grapes. "Didn't even get to keep my memories until I got out of there... What losers, huh."

He plucked at one, then finding them not as sweet as he would like, tossed it back down too. "Don't get what the big deal is if they fix you right up after. How do they do that? Magic?"

"Don't know, but it sure does seem like it," Neeshka said. "All healthy and strong again, like a standard-issue ressurrection spell!" Or, you know, as strong as Neeshka ever got. Neeshka was not really a well-muscled tiefling.

She finally had herself a bite of her apple and chewed noisily for a beat, before continuing around the last of the mouthful, gesturing again and flipping her tail. "Seems like a lot of effort, though! I mean, hauling us from our own worlds. Putting us up in these nice rooms, giving us whole new wardrobes, feeding us, and then wasting expensive spells on us all the time. I mean, there's a lot of us. Forty-something."

That got Lindsey to sit up with interest. "Forty something?" He wasn't aware that there were that little 'tributes' around, thought there would be more. Most hell dimensions were open to all sorts of outsiders. Then again, most didn't let their prisoners live in luxury.

"Who knows what the natives of Panem think," Lindsey answered, shrugging the question away to the back of his mind. "Far as I can tell, not a bad place to be. Kinda looking forward to it, actually." He stared at the screen again. His intended target wasn't showing on it right now but he didn't mind some payback.

Neeshka followed his gaze automatically, and jumped a little, recognizing the face there. She'd seen that guy in the arena! In fact, she knew that stretch of island very well! For a moment she stared at it, and then she demanded indignantly, "So wait, we get to watch this stuff, when we're out? That's not very fair! All the other Tributes will see how I do things!"

The indignance wasn't at Lindsey, of course, but he was a convenient target to complain at. Especially since he'd been so nice about everything, so far, especially the demon bit.

Lindsey watched the non-demon's reaction with clear amusement twinkling in his eyes. "That's what happens when we're in an open circus. Just make sure you save the best trick for last." With nothing interesting going on on screen, he picked up his breakfast and poked at it a bit longer before deciding he was done. Their Avox could take it away later, he was learning fast about this place.

"Hey, Neeshka, instead of firing up, you should study what they are doing." Standing up, he stretched and gestured invitingly at it for her. "Here, take my seat. I'm going to take a walk around and make more 'friends'."

Neeshka settled for the simplest response to that: she stuck her tongue out at him. Really, she didn't care so much about finding other people's weaknesses, she just didn't like them knowing hers. It might have been irrational, but nobody ever really made the mistake of calling Neeshka rational all the time.

But she supposed he had a point, and she found the term he used interesting. "More 'friends', huh?" She slid down from the arm of the couch into the seat he'd vacated, and flipped her tail over the arm, instead. "Guess I'll see you around, then. If you're in my district, and all, now."

"Guess you will, sweetie," Lindsey answered flippantly with a carefree wave and a grin.

"Watch the show and tell me if I miss anything interesting, us being district buddies and all."

The demonness wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, and the chance that they may have to kill one another sometime this year aside, she wasn't bad for a part pit fiend. Most of those guys were destruction and death and had breath that smelled of sulfur; she was kind of cute in an adorable puppy sort of way.

Looking over her shouder at him as he started off, Neeshka's brows went up and her ears went back. "Sweetie?" she mouthed, then rolled her eyes. If he wanted to be one of those guys... well, whatever. At least he didn't hold her heritage against her. She'd see what became of him later.

For now, she just flipped her tail in farewell and settled in to see what the colorful screens had to say about the tributes left in the arena. At least until she got bored of sitting still, anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Freedoooom! (Or Conditional Freedom, Anyway)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

oh hey, guess who finally got around to getting to her inbox!

oh hi there! :)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject