Rescue Me! (from a journalist) OPEN

[splendid_roman]

Who| Ian and open
What| Ian wakes up after his death in the arena and is reminded of what he did there
Where| Training centre - central commons
When| During the last week of the arena
Warnings/Notes| None so far

Ian woke up, which was a surprise in itself. An assessment of his injuries revealed he had none, which was the second surprise. After lying in bed for a while, looking up at the ceiling, he could only conclude that he'd been taken out of the arena before he died from blood loss. Either the technology here was very good or he'd been kept asleep for a long time. He hoped it wasn't the latter and was curious about the former.

He ventured out, feeling tired, but not feeling any of his former injuries. The central commons, it turned out, wasn't the best place to choose. He'd barely got through the door when a journalist shoved a microphone and camera in his face and asked, "We loved your sword fighting. Can you tell us where you learned it?"

A screen nearby was showing one of Ian's fights. One where he killed someone. He'd fought before and he killed before, but for good reason - generally because his or someone else's life was in danger. But there were people he'd killed in the arena for no good reason. There had felt like one at the time, but now those reasons seemed petty.

He went pale and shook his head, looking around in the hopes of seeing someone who could rescue him from this interview.

Comments

[thefemaleson]

She nodded and left briefly to return with two glasses of red wine. "The selection here is inferior to what I am used to, but I suppose that's to be expected." She handed him his glass with a smile. "You must have made quite an impression, to be knighted on a first visit."

[splendid_roman]

He smiled back. Providing them with decent drinks was probably not high on the Gamemakers' agenda. He took a sip. The wine at least wasn't bad. "I suppose I must have done," he replied, thinking back. "We had just saved one of the King's soldiers and I begged him to let me go looking for one of our companions who'd been captured by the King's enemy. He thought I'd do better if I was knighted."

[thefemaleson]

Oscar raised her eyebrows. Either there was much he wasn't telling her, or this King was freer with his honors than most. Either way it was still impressive. "You are remarkably modest about it. I take it you're not one who covets attention." It was half question, half statement. If he was really one who relished attention, she wouldn't have had to intervene with the reporter.

"I am relatively new here," she said, changing the subject. "So I am not familiar with proper protocol. Are congratulations or condolences in order when one has... returned from the Arena?"

[splendid_roman]

He smiled and nodded. He didn't tend to mention his title to anyone and only partly because it didn't really mean anything.

"Both I suppose," he replied, after a moment's thought. "Congratulations on still being alive, but condolences on not having won and going back in." He certainly didn't want congratulations for anything he'd done in there. "You're not going to be going into the next one, are you?" He sounded a little worried about that prospect.

[thefemaleson]

She shrugged at his concern. While the whole concept of the games was deeply distasteful, she refused to think too much about it. She would do her duty, at least until she found a way home. "So I have been told" she confirmed. "Though I intend to enjoy the luxuries of this place until then. I see little reason to spend too much time worrying about things I can not change at the moment. You will be returning, I suppose?"

[splendid_roman]

"I don't get a choice." Or not a choice he liked anyway. "I suppose you're right and we should enjoy this place while we get the chance." He didn't sound particularly happy about it, though. It was almost like some sort of carrot to make them feel happy about fighting in the arena and it wasn't a carrot he liked.

[thefemaleson]

Oscar was silent for a long moment, both considering the man and his words. "Sent to die again and again..." Her words trailed off and she shook her head. "There is something terribly wrong about the whole thing. Rest assured I plan only to endure it while there is no other choice." She paused and sipped at her drink. Then she set it down and offered Ian a smile. "But the only people hurt by refusing all of this," A gesture indicated the whole complex. "Is ourselves."

[splendid_roman]

He thought about it for a moment. No one cared what they did here, only how entertaining they were killing each other. He still wasn't sure if hiding or drinking was the best solution, though. But they weren't free.

"A pampered slave is still a slave," he concluded. Although that didn't stop him from enjoying his drink.

[thefemaleson]

"Of course," she said, with a nod, conceding his point. "And the prize of freedom they dangle carries a very high cost." She gave a short, humorless laugh. That was about all that could be said about that in her mind.

"So tell me, Monsieur Ian. Where were you from before they dragged you here?"

[splendid_roman]

There was an unexpectedly complicated question. "I'm not sure," he replied, after a sip of his drink. "We were being chased by our enemies." He wasn't sure, if he described Daleks, whether she'd understand or believe him. "I'm not even sure where we'd just been, never mind where we were. But they're not here, at least, which is something." That he'd got away wasn't that comforting, though.

[thefemaleson]

"One of the traveling folk then?" Oscar asked, tracing an idle finger in the condensation on the bar. Traveling folk were usually thieves and liars, but Ian seemed trustworthy. Granted, she was no fool, and she had only just met him. Just another thing to watch out for here. It was growing more and more like court as the days passed. Court, writ large and twisted - where all the worst rumors of royal excesses were true. Well, at least she knew the shape of the game.
"From what little I have discovered of this place, I am not sure escaping here is much relief"

[splendid_roman]

"I suppose you could say that." They had been travelling and they took their home, if a temporary one for Ian and Barbara, with them.

"At least by escaping we'd be free. But it is best to do with a little knowledge and a plan." Neither of which Ian had at the moment. And escaping wouldn't take him back where he'd come from either and might mean he'd never get home.

[thefemaleson]

She nodded. "Very little is accomplished by rushing off without planning." She paused, a sudden thought occurring to her. "Planning and teamwork. And the latter seems to be exactly what the nature of these games seeks to destroy." She shook her head, feeling a sense of rising frustration. "I just wish I could figure out the point!"

[splendid_roman]

"It's difficult to plan when you don't know what you're going to be facing." And teamwork was hard to come by when there could only be one winner.

"The point is to keep us in line, I suppose." It didn't sound like a very good reason, though.

[thefemaleson]

It was something she'd thought of before, but she still nodded emphatically at Ian's words. "Of course. Keep people divided and at each others' throats, and they can not unite against the system."

[splendid_roman]

"Well, it's working." He sounded unhappy about that, but it wasn't as if it was something he could change either. "Maybe the solution is just to drink more." Saying so, he finished his drink. "Would you like another?"

[thefemaleson]

Oscar frowned at that, but nodded. "More wine if you please," she said, handing Ian her glass. She's hoped he would be the type to want to fight against what their hosts were trying to do, but it appeared not. Still, that was no reason not to be polite.

"Thank you," she said when he returned. "If nothing else we can use the time outside the Arena to have friendly chat like this one, no?"

[splendid_roman]

"Of course." He smiled and sipped at his wine. "The arena isn't the best place to chat, when you don't know if you might be attacked at any time."

[thefemaleson]

"Perhaps even by the one you're chatting with?" Her tone is light, but it is a serious question. After all, if there can only be one winner, even friends would have to turn on each other at some point.

[splendid_roman]

"Perhaps." He sounded sceptical, though. "But most people don't tend to chat casually with someone they're about to kill."