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thecapitol2014-06-06 07:05 pm
assassinat) wrote in thecapitol2014-06-06 07:05 pm
Entry tags:
I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie; (OPEN)
Who| Nat and YOU!
What| A killer spends about five seconds feeling sorry for herself before she gets busy.
Where| District 8 floor and around the Capitol.
When| After she's been killed off in the tenth Arena and the week(s) after.
Warnings/Notes| Talk of death, flirting???
Having been on the verge of death one too many times, Natasha understands the difference between a close call and the real thing. When her eyes open in the vague familiarity of her assigned bedroom, there's no containing the loud gasp of air that comes with the initial shock. It's instinct--she couldn't breathe all that well when dying and now she can do it just fine? Has she been out long enough to recover? Natasha rolls out of bed and struggles a bit to free her legs of the confinement of her bedsheets before she gives up on that futile gesture. Dragging half the sheets wrapped around a leg into the bathroom, it takes her a few minutes to get the lights on and the clothes off.
No new scars. No sickness. Mild grogginess, likely from sleeping too much. Aches in her back and shoulders, also a reasonable effect of too much bed rest.
Natasha doesn't bother with putting on pants, but manages wrangling the shirt back on over her chest in frustration. How long has she been out and more importantly, how are her allies doing? The Arena can't be over just because she died, right? There were names that lit up the sky during the first week that she didn't bother to recall until now; Pyunma and Shion of District 4, Ian Gallagher of District 6, Armin Arlert and Rebecca Holiday of District 8, and Pruna of District 12. When she steps out into the common room in a tank top and underwear, she should see at least two other people there.
Or she would if it wasn't at a ridiculous time at night. At least there's a fridge she can raid for a late night snack. She just came back from the dead, there better be a tub of celebratory ice cream.
➊ (DISTRICT 8 FLOOR)
Having always been peculiar about sleep, Natasha somehow manages to spend the rest of her first night in bed. It's early afternoon by time she decides she's had enough with feeling sorry for herself. There will always be an immeasurable amount of guilt on her shoulders, so what's a little extra lick or two of weight? Now is the time for answers, not for worrying about Matt and the rest of her peers.
The Avengers are made of tough stuff, tougher than her if she's the only one who has managed to make it back. Time to see what she can do for them now that she's jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.
✪ (CLOSED: Très Jolie)
On her first day, Natasha had managed to avoid her own Stylist, but ran into another by the name of Victory. The Stylist of District 1 must hold a lot of weight, but the comment made by her remains present in her mind. What harm can come of spending a little time with a possible gossip? Natasha seeks him out, having paid Très little attention since her arrival with the intent of making it up.
Upon finding him though? 〈"My God."〉 Natasha manages to exhale under her breath in her native tongue. She's seen a number of things in her life, but this? This is the sort of thing she strays from and for good reason.
➋ (THE CAPITOL)
Now that she's gotten all dolled up (thanks to Très Jolie), Natasha is on the hunt for any respectable individuals who may or may not have a lot of money or power. If she's a celebrity, tonight she will play up the role accordingly. Watch out single men (and maybe some who aren't), she's ready to sink her fangs into something fresh.
What| A killer spends about five seconds feeling sorry for herself before she gets busy.
Where| District 8 floor and around the Capitol.
When| After she's been killed off in the tenth Arena and the week(s) after.
Warnings/Notes| Talk of death, flirting???
Having been on the verge of death one too many times, Natasha understands the difference between a close call and the real thing. When her eyes open in the vague familiarity of her assigned bedroom, there's no containing the loud gasp of air that comes with the initial shock. It's instinct--she couldn't breathe all that well when dying and now she can do it just fine? Has she been out long enough to recover? Natasha rolls out of bed and struggles a bit to free her legs of the confinement of her bedsheets before she gives up on that futile gesture. Dragging half the sheets wrapped around a leg into the bathroom, it takes her a few minutes to get the lights on and the clothes off.
No new scars. No sickness. Mild grogginess, likely from sleeping too much. Aches in her back and shoulders, also a reasonable effect of too much bed rest.
Natasha doesn't bother with putting on pants, but manages wrangling the shirt back on over her chest in frustration. How long has she been out and more importantly, how are her allies doing? The Arena can't be over just because she died, right? There were names that lit up the sky during the first week that she didn't bother to recall until now; Pyunma and Shion of District 4, Ian Gallagher of District 6, Armin Arlert and Rebecca Holiday of District 8, and Pruna of District 12. When she steps out into the common room in a tank top and underwear, she should see at least two other people there.
Or she would if it wasn't at a ridiculous time at night. At least there's a fridge she can raid for a late night snack. She just came back from the dead, there better be a tub of celebratory ice cream.
➊ (DISTRICT 8 FLOOR)
Having always been peculiar about sleep, Natasha somehow manages to spend the rest of her first night in bed. It's early afternoon by time she decides she's had enough with feeling sorry for herself. There will always be an immeasurable amount of guilt on her shoulders, so what's a little extra lick or two of weight? Now is the time for answers, not for worrying about Matt and the rest of her peers.
The Avengers are made of tough stuff, tougher than her if she's the only one who has managed to make it back. Time to see what she can do for them now that she's jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.
✪ (CLOSED: Très Jolie)
On her first day, Natasha had managed to avoid her own Stylist, but ran into another by the name of Victory. The Stylist of District 1 must hold a lot of weight, but the comment made by her remains present in her mind. What harm can come of spending a little time with a possible gossip? Natasha seeks him out, having paid Très little attention since her arrival with the intent of making it up.
Upon finding him though? 〈"My God."〉 Natasha manages to exhale under her breath in her native tongue. She's seen a number of things in her life, but this? This is the sort of thing she strays from and for good reason.
➋ (THE CAPITOL)
Now that she's gotten all dolled up (thanks to Très Jolie), Natasha is on the hunt for any respectable individuals who may or may not have a lot of money or power. If she's a celebrity, tonight she will play up the role accordingly. Watch out single men (and maybe some who aren't), she's ready to sink her fangs into something fresh.
no subject
"Still kicking in the arena though if that's what you meant. Too bad he's in the same district as that creepy blond kid."
no subject
"He would be so flustered if you were to call him that to his face." In fact she can picture it already; the sight would be worth snagging a photo of. "That warms my heart to hear--he had always been a survivor. It won't surprise me if he makes it to the end."
no subject
"On the flip side I have seen someone win their second arena. Another mentor from my district, this kid assassin Mindy Macready. She's starting to regret it though. Winning means no more arena, but you still gotta watch it ya know? And go to all those fancy parties."
Thus Harley continues to partake in one of her latest pass times, over sharing.