[Open] A Reverse Will

[voiceinthephone]

Who| Phillip Gray and Open
What| first death and reliving bad memories
Where| District 6 Suite & Training
When| Week 4
Warnings/Notes| Gore, mentions of murder and body disposal and then there's the Arena

A. District 6 Suite

The first thing Phillip Gray did as soon as he woke up from the Arena was to head to the nearest bathroom and toss whatever the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He wanted to believe it'd be a smooth transition, like he believed Venus and Sandy. That it'd be like in the movies. He wanted his death to be quick, but no, the universe had other plans for him. He escaped his punishment at Freddy's, now he had to endure this. It was his lot in life to die multiple times, this was just the first. Destroying all that evidence at the Pizzeria only compounded that weight. The old routine came back: washing out what little bits and pieces of the other night guards came first. Second: toss the bigger chunks in drums, then lie to their significant others or family when asked about the dead men's whereabouts. Ninety days later, file the report. How the hell was he to expect anything less than hell?

Back to the present, whole body was shaking after that first heave, motor skills reset to that last night before his reaping. Phillip was back in the pizzeria, just as he did when he had that panic attack with Julian. He was trapped inside rapidly draining doors, hoping for a miracle he knew wasn't coming. He even uttered some of that last few words he left Mike...But this wasn't home, Mike wasn't here. No one he knew from that place was here. In fact, it had been a while since Phil thought about his old home. Might as well step out of his room and stretch his legs, probably get something to eat. Maybe watch the Arena-wait yes! He can do that! He could watch those he cared about carry on! It wasn't the best solution but Gray figured he could keep his own demons at bay with that.

B. Training Center

Everything in the Training area had a new meaning after going through the frigid Arena. It wasn't just to keep one's self fit as a way to fine tune survival skills. Phil silently stretched out and smiled in a bittersweet manner when he spotted some of them. The first-aid one would be getting a quick review, if to brush up on catastrophic wounds like deep slashes and severe organ failure due to gunshot. He shuddered a little at the memory, feeling lead pierce through his body before the blood started pouring out. The sheer pain of dying motivated Gray to land the first punch. He was too reliant on escaping, there were times when he'd had to fight and perform a kill...

"I'm not him," Phil told himself as he tried a few more hits, each harsher than the last. The him in question, had been the main reason he hesitated in murdering anyone in the Arena: the serial killer back home. It was ridiculous to think now but if there was someone Gray wanted to beat until bones broke, it was him. The Hunger Games took away that proverbial clean slate, he'd have to be on that level. The Capitol didn't bring him here to be a saint, they brought him here to give them a show.

Comments

B

[conifer]

There's a light touch on his shoulder, then Emily closes her hand over Phil's wrist. He's not one of her Tributes, and she probably shouldn't intervene, but she understands the pain of coming out of an Arena all too well. Judging by his reaction, it's probably his first.

She looks at him with concern etched in her features, wishing she could just switch off and not care, thinking how much easier her life would be. "If you carry on like that, you'll hurt yourself."

[voiceinthephone]

Phil was startled out of his cycle of revenge motivation when he felt that tap on his shoulder. She'd be right, his first and he wasn't coping as well as he thought he would. "Sorry about that," he quietly apologized, not yet facing the Mentor while he stabilized the bag. Her concern was welcoming, and he really did try to muster up his usual facade of smiling and propriety, to ease her mind, The result was weary when he offered, "Did you want a go at it? Because I can step back."

[conifer]

Emily shakes her head, returning a sad, weary smile similar to his own. "I've never been one for punching out my problems." Perhaps things would be easier on her if she did. "You look like you could use a break." She gestures over to a bench on one wall of the training room.

[voiceinthephone]

"I'd..." Gray wanted to keep punching the bag, mostly because in his mind, he'd replaced it with the nameless killer. But that would be rude of him and she looked like she had the experience to back up her suggestions. "I'd like that."

His knuckles hurt from the repeated and inexperienced blows, giving Emily even more reasons in her favor. He was decent with a knife thanks to Sandy, but everything else? Might as well paint a target on his chest with a sign that says 'kill me'. Though he was quick to notice how worn down Emily was.

"Are you a mentor? I haven't seen you in the District 6 suites," he inquired, silently thanking the Avox for a water bottle. "W-what's your name?"

[conifer]

"Emily. I'm the mentor for District Seven." And she was proof that even those with a target painted on their chest could win an Arena. "And you're Phillip, right?" She didn't know all of the Tributes from the other districts too well, having really only kept tabs on her own in the Arena as it was difficult enough for her to watch the gory footage without focusing on all the others as well. But she'd remembered him simply because he'd looked a little out of his depth.

[voiceinthephone]

"Pleasure to meet you ma'am," Her knowing his name surprised Phil, "Yeah, actually...was I that bad?" the man swallowed his pride, knowing his performance was lacking in any kills. Hell, he knew it was that bad.

He studied Emily and gave her a polite nod, "How are your Tributes? I just saw the morning sl-events before headed down here." And he was concerned, though it had been one of hers that shot him.

[conifer]

She's not used to being addressed so formally, and a smile that's a mixture of amusement and appreciation crosses her face. She shakes her head at her question, laying a hand on his arm in an attempt to be reassuring. "In my book, anyone who survives that long is pretty good. Heck, in my District it's usually seen as a success if you survive past the Cornucopia." Her lips purse into a thin line, distracted by memories of the chaotic carnage she'd ran from that first day.

She snaps back to attention as she recounts how her remaining Tributes are faring. "Nick's still going strong, sorry to say. Loki's stuck mostly to the caves, I'm hoping he'll come out soon because the sponsors are starting to get impatient with him. Ruffnut's the one I'm worried about, she doesn't seem to have taken much of my advice about planning rather than just reacting."

[voiceinthephone]

"Thanks, I guess," the guard chuckled with a sincere appreciation for the gesture and the cheer on her part. He wouldn't know what it'd be like to be in the original Games, when deaths were permanent. "I mean it, I thought I got lucky but all I did was run away and help others. Probably didn't make for good tv."

The remark about Nick being all right was bittersweet, more the former than the latter when he said, "Nick would've done better if he would've used his bullets more efficiently." In other words, the man would have it coming if he died before achieving victory.

[conifer]

"Did you get many sponsor gifts?" That would be an easy measure of whether it had made entertaining TV or not.

"Be careful saying that to his Mentor, it might inspire me to send him more bullets." She wouldn't, but Jason certainly would.

B.

[foundafamily]

Firo knew he should probably take the opportunity until the next arena to expand his skill set a bit. Maybe actually learn a few things about wilderness survival, for one. That and the necessity for distraction from his concerns about Ennis were enough to get him back down to the Training Center.

He lingered for a moment at one of the plant stations, wondering where the heck to begin, when he noticed the other person present. He considered minding his own business, but that just wasn't in his nature.

He strolled over to the bags and watched the other guy hit for a moment. "Does that thing owe you money?"

[voiceinthephone]

"Maybe," Phil let slip, still focused on the bag as he kept at it. "Maybe it owes me more."

Five fucking years, two months, three days and a night of his life to be exact, that's how much the nameless entity owed the former security guard. Phillip almost never cursed out loud but his mind was channeling very frustration he had into areas he knew would cause pain. Good thing about those medical simulation bots, they taught this sort of things, though for less violent purposes.

Gray only stopped when he saw tiny blotches of red start to appear on the cloth. It was only then that he realized he'd scrapped his knuckles to bare vibrant red. He took a deep breath then switched to a smile,

"You want in, sir?"

He didn't know they had a death in common.

[foundafamily]

Well, that... was pretty far from whatever answer Firo expected. He thought about asking more, but then the man's face changed--unexpectedly, in Firo's opinion.

'Sir' was unexpected enough to make Firo blink, but it was much preferred to the usual 'kid.' The minor detail was enough to coax something almost akin to a smile form himself.

"No thanks." He really did want to punch something, but a bag wouldn't do it. There was something he needed to hit, but that was more a specific someone.

He considered the bag, then looked back to the man. Perhaps he only needed to let off some steam, but Firo figured he could try and be helpful. "If you're lookin' for somethin' that'll put up a fight, I could help you out. Better practice, eh?"

[voiceinthephone]

If his time in Freddy Fazbear's taught Phillip anything, is how to smile as convincingly as he could and lie through his teeth about how he really felt. If it was a little jarring, he'd apologize later, but it's better to put the mask on.

"You want to fight with me?" that was a surprise. "I, uh, don't think I'd be that good of an opponent." That was true: for all the venting Gray did, without a weapon, he was pretty much useless.

[foundafamily]

He shrugged. "I'm offerin'." Firo was by no means averse to violence, but right now he could take or leave some sparring. The thing he really needed was something to keep him from thinking, whether that was a fight or a conversation or what.

"Doesn't that give you more reason to take me up on it? You can't get better without tryin' it out."

If he stopped and thought about it, he shouldn't be trying to help someone else here; the trade-off of a distraction for a skill that could be used against him wasn't all that great a deal for him.

But he didn't really care about winning when they went back in the ring. All that mattered was his family back home; and if his one death really had screwed everything up for Ennis, then there was no reason to worry about surviving future arenas. Same if, as he was desperately trying to convince himself, she was unaffected by what happened to him here.

[voiceinthephone]

As Phil bandaged his hands up, he thought about the offer. "If you're sure about it, mister," he referred to anyone he didn't know by a title, common courtesy you know?

I'm going down on the first round, the guard was quick to judge himself after sizing Firo up. "No hitting the groin though, I'd like to keep some of my dignity after the Arena." Yeah, because dying from multiple gunshots was embarrassing.

[foundafamily]

"Sure I am. We got plenty a' time to kill, don't we?"

"Wasn't even thinkin' of it. I'll be civil if you will." Despite the fact that, he assumed, both of them had been through a bloodbath, Firo didn't see why they couldn't play nicely. And even if this guy was just hustling him, Firo was both confident he could come out okay and apathetic to the idea of more hurt. He was a little on the small side, but he'd figured out how to work that to his advantage.

"'M Firo, by the way. You can stop the 'mister' stuff." Much as he liked seeing at least someone show some respect.

[voiceinthephone]

Phil couldn't hustle his way out of a fight but the agreement was settled and he outstretched his hand to shake with Firo's, "Phillip, Phil if you wanna keep it short."

This was just a test, he had to remind himself as he assessed his opponent. Smaller didn't always mean weaker as Gray knew from Sandy and Karkat's outbursts before the Arena.

"Ready when you are."

A

[affluenza]

Unfortunately for Phil, someone wasn't intent on letting him watch the arena in peace, especially for such a sappy reason. He was still plenty bitter about what went down, but he'd cried all the tears he could possibly cry over it already.

Now, he sat across from Phil, and he was smiling. Practically grinning from ear to ear, really. But of course, it wasn't the type of smile one would give to a friend, but rather that unhinged type of smile that showed Dandy wasn't bothering with his facade anymore. Phil knew what he was, and if Dandy had his way he'd never forget it.

"Do you know how old I was, my first time?" he said, "The first time I killed someone, I mean. Take a guess."

[voiceinthephone]

Phillip kept his eyes on the screen but his skin crawled at being in the presence of a serial killer again. But this time, he knew the secret as well, though nothing was a secret in Panem. Gray knew he'd have to face Dandy again, that he'd have to live with the man and lock his room door if he planned on getting any sleep.

"By the way you're looking at me, I'm guessing early teens, or later, though I'd be surprised if you said any number below 12."

There was no attempts at being friendly on his side either, as Phil knew just how dangerous Dandy Mott was.

[affluenza]

"You underestimate me. I'm hurt," he said, although his expression was blank and serious now, "Eight."

He crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands together in front of him, looking up to the side, "My dear friend Emile. And wouldn't you know, I got away with it. The police thought he'd vanished without a trace. The body was never found. Now, if that was what I was capable of at such a tender, young age, I wonder what I'm capable of now?"

[voiceinthephone]

"Not that much considering our first Arena together," Phil calmly took a sip from his water bottle and kept watching the TV. Like hell he was letting this man keep him from watching the Games themselves. "Like I said, I've handled more competent killers."

[affluenza]

"Now, that's not really fair, is it? You saw me at my worst, not at my best," he said with a frown, "Anyone could beat up a guy with half his organs hanging out."

He stared at the screen. He didn't particularly like to watch the arena, now that he'd already lost. But suddenly, he perked up and smiled again, "Let's play a game! It'll be so much fun. Let's see if I can figure out who your favorite people are before the next arena."

[voiceinthephone]

"Uh, I didn't even try to hurt you, if I remember correctly. I simply let gravity finish the work someone else already started," the former guard corrected holding a finger up for emphasis and his best bitch face.

"And why, pray tell, would you do that? I thought you had an apology circuit to run, with your fans and sponsors," Phil gently reminded his current seat mate. "Sad ain't it." Inside however, he was worried about those he cared about. "You should be focusing on getting back into the Capitol's good graces."

[affluenza]

"And what better way to get into their good graces than giving them the show of a lifetime? Besides, it's not like it'll be that hard to figure out. We all live here, after all," he said, "There's no use playing dumb with me, you know exactly why I'd do that. We could have been friends, but you wanted to stay and protect them. It really hurt my feelings, you know. I suppose the only thing that would make me feel better is if they suffer way, way more than they ever would have if you'd just let me kill you."

[voiceinthephone]

Phil snorted at that: the only person he really needed to watch over was Julian. Venus and Sandy were terribly good at what they did, and there was no doubt in his mind that pretty much anyone here could wipe the floor with Dandy's smug face.

"And you think that's going to make me regret my actions? That I would suddenly beg for forgiveness, for you to spare their lives?" he straightened up, smiling right back, "I stand by my words and what I did. You just can't take the fact that this cannon fodder lasted three weeks." Five years at Freddy's made Phil pragmatic.