The Message Logs [Open]

[gamemakers]

[OOC: General catch-all for in-person reactions to this.

Warning: making out with zombies in a lower thread.]

Comments

[wantwhatiwant]

"Alright." Ian nodded, Blaine had sat and watched him cry when he discovered Mickey had gone, least he could do was stick with him until he found Kurt and worked through whatever was bugging him.

"He's probably training yeah?"

[mediumdrip]

"Probably. He's been really focused on learning new skills this time." Blaine lead the way down to the Training Center, though he wasn't sure that was where he'd find Kurt.

[wantwhatiwant]

Ian followed, "Yeah, he seemed pretty determined when I met him. How many arenas have you two been in?"

[mediumdrip]

"He's only been in two. I've been in three."

[wantwhatiwant]

"Shit." Ian shook his head, "I guess asking if it gets easier is a stupid question."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine sighed and then shook his head. "No. Not really," he admitted honestly.

[wantwhatiwant]

"Yeah, figured." He shoved his hands in his pockets as they waited for the elevator.

[mediumdrip]

"I wish I had better news," Blaine said. "But... I wouldn't lie to you."

[wantwhatiwant]

Ian nodded, he wouldn't want him to. "Didn't really expect good news honestly."

[mediumdrip]

"You seem to be very realistic like that," Blaine replied, smiling a bit as it was half meant as a joke. He couldn't really let himself take this too seriously because it was painful to face.

[wantwhatiwant]

"No point in pretending stuff isn't shit." He shrugged again and gave a small smile.

[mediumdrip]

"Isn't there supposed to be some positive point to thinking about the silver lining on crowds."

[wantwhatiwant]

"Silver linings are for rich guys whose biggest problem is which shirt to wear. Or something." Ian shrugged again.

[mediumdrip]

Blaine paused for a moment. "I think I was one of those guys back home," he admitted after a moment.

[wantwhatiwant]

Ian blinked. Oh. "Shit." He pulled a face, "No offense meant."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine shook his head. "None taken," he said. "None at all. If anything it tells me to put my life back there into perspective."

[wantwhatiwant]

Ian shrugged, "I think this place is enough to make us all put our lives into perspective. Stuff that seemed important just... isn't when all this is happening." He shrugged.

"I half wish we were back in there, being out here just means we have time to dread."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine sighed a bit and then nodded. "At least here there's food though. And hair gel." After all, Ian has seen him with his messy curls in the Arena. Out here his hair is carefully controlled with product.

[wantwhatiwant]

"All the important things in life." He grinned teasingly. "Your stylists probably love you."

[mediumdrip]

"I think so? It's hard to tell sometimes. They seem a little... fake?"

[wantwhatiwant]

Ian snorted, "They are completely fake. Scarily fake, pretty sure they would rather work with dolls that don't talk back honestly."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine frowned a bit. "Which is a shame. They should be helping us impress our sponsors." He sat back a bit. "Have you thought of how much effort they've put into this?"

[wantwhatiwant]

"Not really." He frowned, he tried not to think about anything they did honestly.

[mediumdrip]

"Well, they have a lot of jobs and infrastructure all centered around the games. No wonder they wanted to make it a year around thing."

[wantwhatiwant]

"Yeah, a whole city build around the fact they like to watch people kill each other." He frowned. "It's like ancient Rome met some freaky science fiction film."