thecapitol | Set a man to watch all night, My fair lady.

Who| Phillip Gray and YOU
What| Poor man got lost coming here after Night 4
Where| The Capitol streets then the Training grounds
When| After the Arena closed
Warnings/Notes| Possible graphic description of animatronic violence, spoilers for Night 4 of FNaF1

A. Arrival

Being able to move again was quite the surprise for a man who just a few minutes prior, had been staring into his makeshift coffin's soulless eyes. Phil swore he could still feel Bonnie and Chica's grip as they held him down while Freddy fetched the costume. He didn't struggle or fight, they could've made it even more difficult. They could've gone feet-first, break every bone in his body before finishing the job. Did they feel sorry? They must've if they let him keep his badge.

It didn't matter anymore, Phil wasn't in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria…hell, he wasn’t in the United States if the announcers were proof of that. The Capitol? The Arena? Was he in some futuristic Roman Colosseum? Like that Stargate movie he watched while flipping channels? Did this mean aliens existed? If so, he owed Jeremy $5, a beer, and a supreme pizza. And what the hell was he wearing? It wasn't his FFP uniform (small blessings, no one needed to see the garish colors of a family restaurant security guard), but he never thought he'd wear what he thought was a dark, leather version of a superhero's uniform, sans mask. Taking pride in his former job, Gray put his head high and briefly polished his badge as he looked around, like a tourist.

"As long as there's no robo-" Spotting a peacekeeper shut that dream down instantly, and Gray sighed, "Never mind."

Robots in a giant colosseum, with weapons…it was both fascinating and terribly familiar to Gray, it reminded him of a certain fox bot. Actually, both fox bots. Maybe Toy Chica if she wielded that cupcake right.

Speaking of toys, all these strange looking people looked like Cher raided Barbie and Ken's closet with a chainsaw and the local Muppet factory. Was this the Capitol itself? MTV on acid? As he wandered around town, looking at his map, Phil briefly surmised that if this place was like this, what would the Training Center looked like? Either way, he was going to enjoy himself before his time was up and he'd have to fight.

B. Training Center

Phil hummed "Groove is in the Heart" (good song to hear as he would fix the bots for the day's activities) as he walked into his assigned district area. According to his map, his District was Transportation, a weird selection in his opinion but he figured the people who rescued him from death, saw something he could help out in. Least he could do after all that, maybe he could help with repairs?

Any illusions Gray had of these games being friendly disappeared as soon as he saw the armory and the dummies. To see an array of weapons, most of these definitely not kid-friendly, Phil was glad he hadn't spotted any firearms.He figured firearms would make for very short games, and not everyone was meant to hold a gun properly. Lord knows what a child could do unsupervised, if Mangle was proof at that.

A terrible thought slipped into his mind and he suddenly tensed up: was he…was he going to hurt, no, kill children here? "I…" he tried to speak but immediately shut up; questioning authority could get him in quite a pickle. It was an unspoken reality as he saw past tributes and victors: these were cruel games. Gray unconsciously placed his hand on his badge, just as he and the Fredbear Diner staff did when they found the boy's lifeless body in the back of the restaurant. For years, he'd been tracking down the child killer and now…now he'd be forced to join his ranks.

"Panem et Circes…heh, coulda work where I came from…"

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"Well that was how it was back in the old days. Not anymore. If you are a victor and you step out of line they'll put you back in for a round. If they decide to bring you back after that then you're safe again." Now that his arm was tired Sandy took her own training knife and tried for a speed move, stabbing multiple times very quickly without getting the knife stuck. Her arm was a flurry of motion and she grunted as she continued.

"And sometimes they do "Special" arenas so I guess if they wanted they could make the victors do those too. They did it once before."

The skill and speed Sandy demonstrated awed Phil into silence, until he could muster a croaking, "It's a battle royal..." Any optimism he had starting out was wearing away by the second.

"Now we're all here fighting their fight and giving them a show, huh?" he sighed, and examined the knife again. It was dirty but he could still see himself in the blade. "I'd hate to be on those special runs. Mind teaching me that?"

"Oh yeah sure." She nodded and gestured again how she had pistoned her arm for speed.

"The Special arenas pop up every once in awhile. They're usually alot faster because normal arenas take weeks to get through but Mini arenas only take a day or two. They have special rules usually too like one where anyone who collected all the items and made it to the finish line could win or only tributes under the age of eighteen or my personal favorite: "Whoever kills Sandy Marko gets extra points in the next arena"

At the last part she thrust hard burying her knife all the way to the handle in the poor Dummies guts, clearly she was bitter about that one. She took a moment to compose herself.

"That's one of the biggest parts about living here. There's no such thing as unfair. We can be scooped up at any time and thrown into something dangerous. No warning or nothing."

That bitterness made Gray visibly cringe and feel sorry for both the dummy and Sandy for having been subjected to such cruelty. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "No kidding..." This place was worse than the pizzeria, ten times as worse. At least the robots had the decency to have rules an stick to them. By the way Sandy spoke, the games were as the Capitol deemed entertaining.

"Home sweet home," the man admitted, figuring that the universe was terribly unfair.

He then took to the same dummy and imitated her slashes and thrusts. He was definitely wet behind the ears but he did his damnedest to land kill strikes.

She tensed feeling his hand on her shoulder, but realizing the intent behind it relaxed a little more. It was always hard to let people get close enough to touch her till she knew them but this guy had slipped right under the radar. Maybe it was because he was so clearly helpless like she used to be.

But if he survived long enough, he wouldn't be helpless anymore. At least not in the arena.

"Come on, I'll show you how to throw them next." She waved for him to follow her. There were different knives for throwing, and about a million other tools that she had either used in the arena or prepared to use.

Tools like helpful adults who only wanted to protect the kids from danger.

Phil wasn't aware of the thought processes in Sandy's mind but she was right on one account: he'd do everything he could to make sure no child got hurt or killed under his watch. He deeply regretted the one time he failed to do so, and that fueled him more than the obscene amounts of caffeine in his system. As he fumbled with his own knife, Gray smiled at her,

"Hey you're the teacher, I'm here to learn." And he meant it. He knew that his inexperience would cost him the first arena but he would rather learn from Sandy than out in the field.

Phil would learn the hard way just how far people could go for a chance at survival. How far he would go.

Set a man to watch all night, My fair lady.

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Shall we wind down now? Or is there more you wanted to do this go around? :)

lets wind down for this one!