sleep with one eye open { gay panic : day 1 }

[k!ah]

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Mauve listened to the cries, stopping as she fled to look over her shoulder. She cursed her allies for bolting, cursed herself for allying with those who were to soft to handle a little chaos, a little pain and destruction. She had thought higher of the career, Liara, but she had been the first to run, Bubby, the pathetic boy from four, scrambling after her without a moment hesitation. Two careers- No, Bubby wasn't a career, it was offensive to the name to call him that. Even the weak boy from six- and damn dead boy from eleven had ran towards the bloodbath.

Grounding her teeth she kicks at the grass beneath her feet, turning away from temptation, she looks towards her fucking hyenas. Where she had thought of herself as a wolverine, she had partnered with the most cowardly animals of the animal kingdom, a pack of Hyena's. Her gaze runs over them, as cold as ice, simmering with quiet fury. "You're a bunch of cowards," she spits into the dirt, shoving past Liara and Bubby. "Fucking cowards."

They had no equipment, no weapons, nothing but each other. Delightful. Just fucking perfect. "Better sleep with one eye open tonight friends," she hisses with a twisted smile tossed over her shoulder. She didn't plan to hurt any of them tonight, but that didn't mean she couldn't cause them some mental strain, unable to feel comfortable her threat wrapped around shoulders like a lovers touch, a constant reminder that she was a wildcard and wouldn't think twice about turning on any of them. She didn't want them to be comfortable, she fed off discomfort, and Bubby in particular, was an easy target, feeding her ravenous appetite. Her eyes linger on him the longest.

She could still hear the clash of steel, the faded cries, as flesh was ripped open, blood spilt, allies ripped apart... but then came the worst sound of all. The sound that meant death, meant pain, meant distress, most likely the start of a crumbling soul.

A cannon.

The sound filling the sky like thunder, booming through the arena. Mauves eyes turn back towards the blood bath, her lips pulled back into a scowl. "You got to be kidding me," she mumbles under her breath. She wondered who had fell. Was it that boy from twelve? or the Red head? Maybe it was Love, his stupid smile broken by a strike to the face that crushed his skull. She would have liked that, liked it more had she have been there to watch, and perhaps it was her fist that felt bone crack, penetrating the soft tissue of the brain, watching has the light died in his eyes, his face going blank...

She almost moans, lost in the thought, when she shakes herself, her gaze hardening once again.

She should have been there.

She was a wolverine.

Teeth of iron, and claws of steel.

But instead of having blood on her hands, she might as well of had a white feather pressed into them.

Picks up stuff and sponsorship 

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

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My steps are quick as I run further away from the bloodbath without a single item in hand. I've watched previous games where weapons and other items have been hidden throughout the arena, and that is my hope here. I just don't stop yet. I keep going and going until I'm standing next to Mauve. My heart is racing, and for a moment it's hard to breathe. It's hard to think straight, but that doesn't matter. Mauve is clearly pissed that we ran, and it makes my blood boil that she's calling me a coward when she ran away too. I wasn't the one who forced her to run. I didn't drag her out of the bloodbath. "Nobody forced you to flee the bloodbath. You made that decision on your own." She made that choice on her own because she's perfectly capable of making decisions for herself. I'll let her be delusional and think otherwise since I really don't want to fight with her right now. I just can't let her get away with what she's said.

Yet I can't even respond because a cannon echoes through the sky signifying a death, and I listen for more, but I don't hear any. This is exactly why I ran from the bloodbath. I can find weapons. I can find a way to survive, but I can't bring myself back to life. "You can find ways to survive in the arena, Mauve, but unlike that person who died, you can't bring yourself back to life. It's better to flee and live." I snap sharply because I've had it with her. Nobody calls me a coward and gets away with it. I'm trying to remain calm, and in that moment I see the parachute falling from the sky, and it takes my mind off things for a moment. "Why fight and die in a bloodbath when you can leave and get what you need later?" I want to ask her, but I choose to not say a word because I want to know what is inside.

I take a breath as I sit down next to the parachute. Whoever sent me this wants me to succeed it seems, and I laugh at the sight of a fire poker. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? It looks like a spear, so maybe I'll just stab people with it, and maybe I'll make Mauve my first victim. She won't get away with insulting me, and then to threaten me and tell me to sleep with one eye open. No, I'll just end her life right now and never look back or think anything of it again. She's standing in my way, and I want to win this game. I grab the the spear, and I'm looking at her. It'll be easy. I just have to make it quick and easy. I can do this. I've wanted this, and nobody is going to stop me. I could simply stab her in the throat then clean the blood from my weapon and pretend I found her like this before the others show up. But I can't. Because the others are here. Another time perhaps.

Liara picks up stuff

[Tom]

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The first rule of assessing issues of the human function is standing back and observe the irrationality of emotion. Running away from the supposed bloody field had been an idea of his own despite the others in his alliance having done so also. The chaos wasn't for him. Blood wasn't what he wanted to spill. Bellamy had grown used to the smooth red of it in his memories. The idea of getting blood coated through his hands was vastly disgusting to himself. Who even wanted to throw a fist at another kid? Not him. That's for sure. Though, Mauve would kill him if she heard his thoughts. His eyes fall to her for a moment as he's rushing to catch up with the others.

Observation was important to any assessment of a situation, but the moment Mauve's foot tears through the grass cut so perfectly, he has to sigh. His index finger and thumb rubbing between his eyes at the sight of Mauve already starting up with their allies. "You're a bunch of cowards," Cold, unnerving eyes staring towards them with all the venom in the world while Bellamy Scott knew they'd played the game smart. It's easier to run and live to fight another day than die in a field of broken bones and bloodied grass blades. "Fucking cowards." Cowards survive. The truth lies in evidence and Bellamy's got plenty of it. Years spent learning more about his father's coworkers who hid away from the truth even in the small eyes of himself as a kid. Cowards survive while fighters die. Mauve could call him a coward any day, but he didn't feel like one. No, Bellamy was smarter than most for even deciding to run away.

"Better sleep with one eye open tonight friends," The twisted smile is nothing more than a threat in the air. A shaking of his own head as he pulls himself together to no longer seem visibly shaken from her desire to risk their lives. Mauve was psychotic in her ways, but she had to at least know they'd played it smart. Supplies could be found. Wounds couldn't fully heal. Stamina was the main factor of the games and if they didn't keep it up, well they'd be sitting ducks in a pond of carnivores. "Nobody forced you to flee the bloodbath. You made that decision on your own." The sharp turn is sudden as he looks to Liara wanting to tell her not to start it up, but it's already too late. His voice finding it's air finally.

"It's smarter to take a minor loss than a major one. A broken leg or one of us dying could be detrimental to the entirety of the-"

The cannon sounds over his voice. An echoing blast to silence his voice for no reason other than showing that bloodbaths were actually bloody. Pulling out his notepad and pencil, his token from home, he marks down one dead out of twenty three. One step closer to the end, but he didn't need to add to Mauve's anger by exposing his own desires to make it to the end. Mauve had enough over his head with the dumb dare they'd shared in the train. The fact his own life was possibly in Mauve's own hands made his stomach churn. "You got to be kidding me," A whisper of breath to no one but herself. Bellamy's own hands clutch his sides as he fumbles around himself, unsure of what more to do with himself. Liara is the one to start it up again. A fire burning between them as he stands there helpless to stop any of it. A detective with no comprehension to solve a wild girl and a career from arguing about fight or die.

"You can find ways to survive in the arena, Mauve, but unlike that person who died, you can't bring yourself back to life. It's better to flee and live."

Lucas and Sierra would have laughed at him for ending up here. Confrontation was his thing, but he didn't deal well with most of it. Most of the time, he pushed and pushed until he got what he wanted, but Mauve and Liara seemed to know what they were doing. His eyes went from Mauve to Liara and back. Looking over to Bubby, he looks for help, but finds none other than Bubby's pretty eyes. A sigh fall from his lips as he steps in with a faux confidence.

"Alright. Alright. Alright. Mauve, we get it, you wanted to fight, but we stopped you. Liara, you wanted to survive for another fight. Boom. You're on the same page. Next fight, you both can take out this argument on whoever we run into. Doesn't matter who's right or wrong in this conversation, just matters about surviving to the end and getting the crown. Correct?"

A soft smile pulls on his lips as he hopes that settles it for now. Bellamy Scott wasn't a miracle worker, but he certainly could pretend he was. His soft eyes following from one to the other before the sound of a ringing hits his ears. The silver parachute filled with supplies crashing down in front of him. A laugh almost bubbling from his lips at the sight of it all. Survivability was already starting to go up higher and higher. Keeping an eye on the area around them, he sets to work putting all of it on him.

Smiling at his alliance, he tries to keep the dysfunction at bay. The smell of gunpowder having always been around the corner of familiarity for him. A smoking gun wouldn't carry any of the answers. A bullet fired would shred anything of note. He didn't want Mauve or Liara to rip one another to shreds, so he speaks up once more. For an intelligent guy, he wasn't really sure how smart it was trying to be the voice of reason for these two terrifying forces.

"Hey, look supplies! See, who needs a bloodbath. You can get some kills later Mauve. I promise."

Operation convince Mauve to calm down was a go.

All he could do was hope she fell for it.

No one, not even Lucas, could say no to his puppy dog eyes.

Mauve would fold.

(Bellamy picks up some stuff and receives sponsorship *will do sponsorship later)

[d4 Panda Scope [Gayton]]

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How did I end up here? It was a silly question, of course I knew. But something about it felt so fictional. Like the last week had been some crazy fever dream. I never imagined I’d be reaped. I was from a volunteer district and took no tesserae, ever. Ripred had some sick plan for me.

I called that plan, ‘Operation: Mauve’.

What did I do to end up being punished for trying to survive. We had to run.

Canon.

And that was why. You go to the bloodbath and chances are, you die there or come out so injured you die tomorrow. But we all came out of it unscathed. Why couldn’t Mauve appreciate that.

Because she was a psychopath. If he weren’t so worried for me, I’d bet Ali would be laughing. Me, of all people allied with a wanna-be serial killer. I couldn’t wait to tell him the story of how that came to be. I’m sorry, I meant, I hoped I’d be able to tell him.

The group was arguing, drawing attention, wasting time. I was watching, thinking about who was silenced by the roar of the canon. Areto? I hoped not, although she was a threat to my survival, I hoped to see her again. Six? I prayed it wasn’t him.

Honestly, I wished it was Mauve’s. But here she was, standing next to me. She liked to stare me down every once in awhile just to make me uncomfortable. I knew what she was doing, but it still worked. I had a feeling my good nights sleep streak was coming to an abrupt end.

The arguing died down, I never said a word. Everyone was on edge, and the next person to speak might get a knife in their throat. I think the viewers knew that, because as tensions were highest, parachutes containing supplies and weapons came down to greet us all. I wasn’t going to say a word. And if I did, I’d have sided with Mauve.

No, I didn’t agree with her, she was a maniac. But she was deadly.

(Picks up stuff, and sponsorships)