Chasing the Sun [Ronan; Day 1]

[Tom]

The race towards the sun had already begun as soon as Severus had taken off.

None of them would beat Ronan at a silly race. Despite him believing he's more mature, he still wants to win this race. Not because he's invested into it, but this is part of the show. The show that the capitol would want. A test of skill, a test of trust, and a test of wit. He could navigate these lands better than anyone else would be able to. Confident in his ability to be in charge of himself and survive, even if he had to go at it alone.

The land around him has patches of grass and the looks of holes beginning to form, but he can see the sheriff's office in the distance still. Far enough away from the blood to feel less on edge, but close enough to still feel the lingering weight of fuckers still on his skin. Jessica Braun was going to fear him, he swore by it. Exover and them would leave them alone, he's sure of it. Berlin and them would back down at the sight of him. Ronan was positive that his show has already created a spectacle of everything. A smirk on his lips before he pushes a little faster until the sound of a package rings in his ears and the silver gleams at him.

Inside the package is armor to further protect himself from the others who will want to come for him and he'll be ready. A smile on his face until the sound of a chirp hits his ears. The perfect thing to create more mayhem among the dirt and grass and sand in this arena. Barren lands that would become his playground and no one else's.

The lasso whips in the air, once, twice, thrice, until he launches it at the word trying to catch the burrowing animal that now surfaced.

"Come to me, fucker!"

(Ronan receives his sponsorship)

(Ronan tries to lasso a prairie pup)
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1-2

[Tom]

The miss was extravagant as he did not weigh in the fact that he was on horseback which made this twice as hard.

"Fuck! I just want to cause a little chaos!"

Fingers twirling the lasso again as he stares at the fucking creature mocking him. As if the Gamemakers themselves were telling him to fuck off out of her, but he was going to catch this damn prairie pup if it took all of the energy out of him. This little fucker was going to deliver his shit and be happy about it. A smirk on his face as he comes up with a new fast paced plan. Hand on his horse's mane before pushing the horse forward and trotting around in a circle around the mutt.

This had to be a better vantage than before. If anything, he could at least slow down enough to aim better than last time. He wasn't going to lose to Last Chance, Sever Us, and Raven. No way would he let this little fucker ruin his chances at that. This time he twirls the rope with a giddy feeling before letting go, hoping to snag it.

"C'mere little guy. I just want to send some mean letters."

(Ronan tries to rope a prairie pup)
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[Tom]

"Okay fucktard. I've had enough. Let me catch you or I will fucking let my horse stomp on you."

Frustrated at the fact that he's being beat by a fucking small creature, he can't help but feel his chance at beating his allies slipping away by the second. The wanted posters feel heavy with his pen. A want to write something to the rest of the tributes left. An angry threat on the tip of his tongue. A moment of silence as his mother flashes past his mind.

Patience. She always said patience was the key to being good with anyone. Patience allowed for the body to calm down and actually think better, mover better, and do better. A chuckle from his lips as he pushes himself back up into a straighter position before thinking about how shaky his hands were when they asked him to do an autopsy for the first time. The nerves getting to the better of him and his mother's disappointment clear as day on her face despite the fact he was only a kid when he did that.

Riordan's smile flashes across his eyes before he twirls the rope again aiming for the little guy in the ground. This guy or girl was going to be his. He was going to use them to start the real games. A smirk on his lips before he lets go, hoping the lasso gets the creature.

"Alright, here we go."

(Ronan attempts to catch a prairie pup)
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1-2

[Tom]

Fuck him.

Caught the little guy, but he can here his mother's satisfaction in his head. The way that she would have told him that he should listen to her more and things would go better. Fuck. He hated how awful that felt despite catching the thing and preparing what he should write on the poster and to who he should send it to. A smirk on his lips before he notices another thing pop out of the ground as he pulls the reins of his horse making the creature go faster.

A hand on his cowboy hat before twirling the lasso carefully over his head. Severus, Raven, and Rory were bound to be way ahead of him, but at this point he didn't care. There was a new game to be played and a simple race didn't mean anything to him anymore. The thought of Caspian and Caspar pop into his head as he thinks of what to call the little fucker and the next one if he's to catch it. It'd work. Nothing better than naming animals after people he regrets not getting to know better.

Craving the cigarette smoke as he remember the ashes of Tempus and the way Caspar looked at him as if his world had burned down and maybe it did, but he didn't fucking care. No one cared about Ronan anyways. Not even his own parents could give two shits about what he does, even in the arena.

They probably already forgot about him.

Fuck...

"You're mine."

(Ronan tries to catch a prairie pup)
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1-2

[Tom]

As the two pups are in his arms, he carries himself higher on the horse.

Eyes focused into the distance as he pushes further and further away from the pups homes by the cornucopia. A smile on his face as he feels them calmly in his arms. This was the start of the show. This was the start of his game. Ronan was gonna give those gamemakers a real show, one that they have never seen before. A laugh on his lips as he puts together his own plan of chaos. Silently, he chases the sun over the horizon.

The glowing heat glaring back down to him as he continues on with the race to wherever the alliance was going. The sight of holes growing more and more with each gallop in the distance. Rory, Severus, and Raven would be okay. They could handle themselves to heading over here in no time. Either way, he was sure that one of them would arrive before him. A shrug in his shoulders as he ignores the pang of frustration from earlier leave him.

A beautiful sky with a blistering sun and deserted grounds for the eye to see. A sea of dryness that seems to stretch and stretch and stretch. It was going to be a long day if he could tell by the sweat on his brow, despite the shade of the rim of his cowboy hat. If only he could block out the sun with more than a hat.

At least, he could burn like his dreams.

(Ronan flees on his horse to his next thread!)