Damn It Jim, I'm A Doctor, Not A Magician! [TLB; Day 1]

[Kire]

J I M D E E R

While I'm used to dimly lit mine tunnels, wandering around said tunnels in the dark was something I had never experienced before - or at least not to a significant amount. Until now. I led the way, dragging Jay along by the hand he had clenched around the handle of my rucksack. We had a made a chain in order to keep from losing each other, and I had been designated as leader under the logic that I understood how tunnels worked. Of course, I would never tell them that I had absolutely no idea what way I was going but I'm sure they would figure it out in the end. There had been a flashlight by my foot as I fled the bloodbath, though I wasn't willing to stop and pick it up since I was all beat up already.

I had done my best to twist my shirt into a sling for my arm - I knew it was broken because of the crack it had made when that girl hit it - and the large stain of blood on it from my stomach was growing larger as I attempted to keep pressure on it somehow. It was really a choice between losing a lot of blood or easing up the pressure on my right arm. Thankfully it didn't take me too long to pick up the skill of using my cudgel with my left hand, though I did miss hitting that District seven girl by a whisker. Until my arm healed I wouldn't be able to hit shit, that seemed more likely. Blaire - I think it was Blaire anyway - set my bone so at least I wouldn't have a crooked arm. Jay prodded at me a bit and seemed to bind my sling better, so then it wasn't always just about to fall off.

I stopped and turned my head back to look at where Jay was supposed to be. "Hey, uh, I don't think this is working. I need to wrap my stomach up with something." I tried to make it obvious, but hopefully one of them would have something I could use. I reached back with my left hand and waited for the feeling of cloth on my fingers. It came, but only after a while of fumbling and a little too much skin contact. I spent about a minute trying to tie the thing around my middle before I heard an impatient sigh. A pair of hands roughly smacked into my back before grabbing the ends of the cloth and tying it tightly around my stomach. It was awkward to be practically in the embrace of one of my allies - in the pitch black there was no way to know which one it was - so I just stood still and let them work.

With that done, I waited until we had formed our chain again before starting to move forward again. My left arm was my only defense against breaking my nose on a wall, and I used my fingertips to feel my way along the wall until I found a opening and so changed course. In the end, this led us nowhere because we came to a huge cavern and it was then that I realized we, or more accurately I, had gone in a huge circle. "Well shit." There wasn't even any light here anymore, so the only way to know where the cornucopia itself was was to walk into it. Seeing as I didn't feel like running into any large black horn of plenty I decided that I had had enough wandering. "Okay, I give up." I slumped against the nearest wall, my eyes straining to make anything out. "You guys still here?" My voice echoed through the whole damn place and would let anyone out there know that someone was here. Whether they could find me or not was another story.

I groaned as I tried to shift my right arm into a more comfortable position, gritting my teeth and scootching myself into a more upright position. A horribly loud pinging sound filled the cavern, and a flashing light that couldn't have been all that bright, but with how long we had been in the dark it was made blinding all the same. I swung my face to look towards it, able to pick out a little of our surroundings with what light the thing cast. It wasn't until it had nearly landed in my lap that I realized it was a sponsorship parachute. The moment my hands touched the gift, the light on it went out and we were left with darkness once more. I cracked it open and fished out my prize. The water jug went straight into my bag and the moment I realized the second thing was a medkit I tore into it and snagged the needle and thread out. As it was, I had a horrible time stitching anything, but with my broken dominant arm and in the dark. Hell, I just hoped that I had managed to stitch the actual wound and not just some random spot on my stomach.

I held up the roll of bandage, clinging to it so as not to drop it and lose it, and looked to where I had spotted the faint outlines of my friends in the light from the sponsorship container. "Uhhh... help?" At least one of them must have rolled their eyes, I'm sure.

[Jim receives Medkit and Empty Water Jug from sponsorship]
[Jim uses Needle and Thread on himself for -5]
[Jim uses 5ft of Bandages on himself for -1]

[arx!!]

I have never been all that frightened of the dark. I've lived all sorts of places over the years, and none of them really had a light source for me to cling to in the darkness. As unloved children, our father never allowed Ruth or I to have the lights on. I think there was even an instance where I had had a nightmare and turned on the light, only to be whipped for it in the early morning hours. I craved the dark after that. I don't think I ever flicked on a light switch or lit a candle again.

After that I was in the streets, completely reliant on street lights that attracted moths and buzzed all night long on the occasions that they were actually on. Most nights I just huddled in the dark, clinging to Ruth (though for so many years my inner masculinity had convinced me she was clinging to me) in the cold, dark alleys that lined District 5. We would hide ourselves in trashcans or beneath a cardboard box so that the scary homeless men wouldn't get us in the middle of the night. Neither of us mentioned the fact that we were homeless too. We were too young to understand that ... or maybe we just didn't want to hear the truth so blatantly aloud.

And then we got to Sycamore house, and I was nothing more than a husk of my old self - angry and stubborn and pessimistic enough that no matter how often Ruth or Lilith or even little baby Ara (the only orphan who still knew how to smile) tried to make life better I just couldn't accept that anything could actually be good or fun or perfect. When Klaus donated money to us to fix Sycamore after the fire I knew for certain there would be some horrible catch, because for as long as I can remember, there has been.

And then Laila was reaped and the part of the house that had been repaired - the hearts of the Sycamore children that had been slowly healing - were crushed beneath a burden much too heavy to carry. And once more, the darkness was all I knew.

I have never been all that frightened of the dark. But I do admit to fearing what lives in the dark, for I have seen the monsters that lurk there. And I do admit that I fear being alone. Because despite what I boast about the life of an orphan and how alone each of us is, I have never been alone in my entire life. Even when I thought I was alone, I was not. Ruth was always there for me. And when I looked into the crowd of teens gathered at the Reaping this year, I saw each of the kids I lived with looking back at me with a pained look. Because to some extent, we all cared. We didn't like to admit it, but we did. They do. I do.

But right now all I've got is Twelve and Fishboy to cling to. I'm sure they wonder where the hell I was during all this, considering Twelve is beat up pretty bad even after all the first aid magic and Fishboy is calling him an idiot for getting so beat up in the first place. Personally, I still think they are both idiots. But I keep my mouth shut. No need to instigate anything, especially when we are so close to each other and I'm sure they would both be willing to bash my face in. Which reminds me of the sword I hold at my side.

"Hey, Fishboy," I whisper, hearing myself echo even when I am trying to be silent. "We should trade weapons." I hand it to him as best as I can in the darkness and he hands me a blunt object in return, something I am much more able to handle. "Oh and it's got a name carved in it. Melanie Clark, whoever that is." I murmur, the name unrecognizable to me, though still super disgusting knowing that it is a bone weapon and is clearly a mindfuck from the Gamemakers. Jokes on them; I can't put a face or feelings with the name. I pray Mr. Superior Career here won't tell me the story - I'd rather not know.

Just like I'd rather not know what happened back at the dimly lit Cornucopia. As I ran away with a sword in my hand I heard the struggles, heard what was happening, heard death, though I could not see it. I was pretty certain of who was left with the Wealth and I certainly understood how lucky I was to have been left completely untouched considering the state Twelve was in. But thinking about what had happened only made me want to run away like a coward again, so instead I focus on the tiny echoes my feet and make a little rhythm out of it, thinking of my music sheets from back home.

But then I remember the boomerang in my waistband. I remember Laila. I remember Edgar. And Lilith. And Silas and Arwen. And Septimus. And I even remember that piss poor replacement for Laila, Ezabel. And of course I remember Ruth. And then I remember Sycamore. And District 5. And home.

I miss home.

I want to go home.

And then I run straight into someone. "Shit!" I burst out in exasperation, dropping my club in the process, the metal sending a very loud clinging noise through the tunnel. "Sorry." I mumble under my breath, feeling around on the ground for my club, finding it just as a pinging noise sounds. And as soon as the package landed in Twelve's lap I could hear him setting to work on fixing himself. I slumped down on the ground then, my feet aching and my eyes no more adjusted to the dark than they were before. I listen to Twelve trying to make it all better, followed by an, "Uhhh... help?" only to find a sponsorship gift landing next to me with a rather heavy thud.

I jump out of fear, only to be surprised that I've gotten anything at all. I knew for certain Sycamore did not have the money to fund me. But as my hand falls on a sturdy handle I find an empty water jug tied there. And as I gently feel my way to the head of an axe, I'm not sure if I should be sick or smile. I settle with a heavy sigh. Someone out there wants me to kill people ...

My heart begins to pound fiercely against my ribs just at the thought of it.

I just want to go home.

Can't I just go home?

---

{Blaire gives his Bone Sword to Jay Krearns}
{Blaire receives a Wrought Iron Cudgel from Jay Krearns}
{Blaire does First-Aid on Jim Deer}
{Blaire receives an Axe & Empty Water Jug from sponsorship}

---

Blaire Sycamore - District 5

---

[Tom]

  JAY  KREARNS 

district four tribute

The darkness was a new factor. Jay never would have thought that he'd need to make sure he could get a light just to survive. Jay's first regret was not grabbing the night vision goggles that were right in front of his grasp, but he chickened out when the District 8 male attacked him. The name was the only thing Jay couldn't remember, but he could make out the male's face in his head. When Mason was in the arena, there was a small boy from 8, but the 68th were meant to be different. The tributes were all bigger and looked stronger. Jay was in for a tough games and he knew it.

Jay's mind was in a whole different place. The darkness was something Jay didn't like. The darkness never really scared him, but after learning he was reaped and coming up into complete darkness, you never knew if you were being hunted or not. There could be monsters out there following them as they spoke and walked. "You're a mutt." The voices of Davy from his death were coming back. The last words he heard Mason say still haunted him. It was all a mixed up jumble of words that never got fully said. The darkness was not something to fear, but what was out there in the dark was something that may need to be feared. Jay's first reaction to seeing Jim after bloodbath was to laugh and tell Jim how much of an idiot he was, but for some reason, Jay felt more worry than sarcasm. Jay quickly moved towards the sling and tighten it, so the sling doesn't fall off. "Next time Jim, please do be careful. You're an idiot, but just be careful. I don't think I want you to die on my watch." said Jay. Jay smirked at Jim and they continued off on their journey, well until Jim turned around again and asked for some cloth. Jay ripped his sleeves off and handed him the cloth. After hearing Jim concentrate, trying to tie the cloth around his stomach, Jay took a deep sigh and just moved closer, until he was in an embrace, arms around Jim. Jay spoke softly, "Don't worry, I got ya." And with that, Jay blocked the bleeding with the cloth and then moved it to tie it behind his back. Jay then grabbed on his bag and they were now off.

Jay was stuck with the little kid and the half dead "cool" man, but they were his allies and he'd stick by them and not leave them, until he absolutely had to or they died. Jay was walking while holding onto Jim's bag, when all of a sudden, Blaire spoke up, "Hey Fishboy." The younger male was carrying the bone sword by his side. That's when he hears the rest of what Blaire has to say, "We should trade weapons." Jay smiles, even though Blaire probably can't see him smiling. Jay just handed his Wrought Iron Cudel to Blaire. He took the Bone sword with the same hand and felt so much more alive with it in his hands. It was one of the weapons he knew how to use. He liked the sword, it felt nice in his hands. Then Blaire spoke again, "Oh and it's got a name carved in it. Melanie Clark, whoever that is." Jay had no clue who that was. It must have been a tribute when he was younger. Jay just whispered back, "Sorry mate, but I don't know anyone by the name of Melanie Clark." Jay turns his attention back to Jim and continues moving with the crowd.

That's when Jim stops in frustration and Jay knows why. They were back to square one. Jay calmly sighed and slunk down next to Jim. He said, "Damn it Jim. I thought you knew what you were doing." Jay just gave Jim a bit of a glare, even though he couldn't see it. Jay wasn't in the mood to argue with his allies. Jay took a deep sigh and stood up. He watched Jim receive a sponsorship. Jay rolled his eyes. Jim wasn't the only one that needed a sponsorship. Jay would like a jug too. It would come handy when they find water. That's when another blinding light shone at him. Jay watched as the shiny object land in his hands. As soon as the light was there, it was gone. Jay opens up the box and feels around in it. He grabs a jug and smiles at nothing. Jay shoves it in his empty bag. Then he feels around in it again, and feels the item slowly. If he had to take a guess, it would be that it's a needle for some sort of thing. Jay just put it in his bag. It could always be handy for later.

Not even a minute later, he hears Jim. "Uhhh...help?" That's the phrase that makes Jay roll his eyes, but he crouches down, trying to help Jim stitch up a few wounds. Jay felt like a babysitter for the two people he calls his allies. Blaire was just a little guy and Jim was half dead already. Jay quietly helped Jim do his stitching, making sure he misses himself and not stitching anything that doesn't need stitching. Jay's face contorted a bit in pain from his gash on his left thigh. He'd push through it though. Jay's head was swirling. He wanted to not be here. He wanted to be home. He wanted to see Miles and receive a hug from him. He wanted to go drinking with Jev. He wanted to sleep in his bed. Jay wanted a lot of things, but this was his fate. He was supposed to follow in line like Mason. He was meant for the games. It was what he needed to do. It was his fault for being here now. He decided it upon himself to volunteer. He put his life and the happiness on many of his other family members and his best friend in danger. Jay whispered to himself, "I've got the nasties. I got them."

{Jay gives his Wrought Iron Cudel to Blaire Sycamore}
{Jay receives a Bone Sword from Blaire Sycamore}
{Jay does First aid on Jim Deer}
{Jay receives Empty Water Jug and Antivenom from sponsorship}

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