makinglies | Entries tagged with the games

There was something muffled, some kind of sound. Talking, maybe? Yeah, talking, more than one voice. He couldn't make out the words, someone must have stuffed cotton into his ears. And maybe lined his eyelids with lead while they were at it cause opening his eyes was impossible. He tried and the talking seemed to stop, then he couldn't hear anything as unconsciousness grabbed him again.

The next time he came around, his eyes worked again. At least, they did once he realized wherever he was it was just dark and not that he couldn't see. The second thing he became aware of was that he was being carried. Whoever's back he was on hadn't realized he was awake yet and that sent Jet's mind racing. He'd been dead, he'd died in the arena which means they'd miraculously brought him back and now-? He did a quick mental check, he could control his own body so they hadn't turned him into a weapon, he was aware of his mind and it didn't feel any more or less jumbled than usual so no brainwashing....and thank god he still had his tongue. The next question was why he still had his tongue or anything for that matter. Maybe they were taking him off to do something worse, something new he hadn't seen yet because, surely, there had to be something coming.

Well, they weren't going to just do whatever to him without a fight. He had the element of surprise, he could get the jump on them and fight his way out of wherever he was and after that...well, he'd figure that out when he got there. For right now, he had to act.

He whipped his arms up to wrap around the neck of whoever was carrying him and twisted himself so he could pull out of their grip. He was a little taller, hopefully he could choke this guy out fast before anyone came to help him. Having metal arms would help with that.

hollowvictor

The lights were out, the parties were only just starting and he'd just been released from the Capitol's medical care to get all the venom out of his system and to heal the gashes and cuts he'd gained from fighting the other tributes. He'd been unconscious and then he'd been busy with the doctors and Jason and whatever else he had to do to get them to leave him alone, he hadn't stopped to think about anything. Now he was standing in the middle of his room in the District 10 suite after everyone had gone to bed. He hadn't even gotten a chance to see Peggy. If Peggy wanted to see him after what he'd done. But, no, if there was one person who probably wouldn't hate him for his actions, it was Peggy.

He changed into something too soft to sleep in and sat on the edge of the bed. His fingers traced the two matching puncture wound scars on his arm for a minute or two before he stood and threw one a shirt with sleeves and left his room.

Hers was just across the hall. He snuck over and silently opened the door and closed it behind him. He knew how light a sleeper she was these days, so he made his way slowly and quietly to a spot a couple feet from the side of her bed so as not to startle her. Here he sat, legs crossed, fingers absently picking at the fluff of the throw rug like he might grass back home. She'd sense him there eventually and wake up, he just had to wait.

As he waited, it started to rain.

baaarbie

It was one thing to 'know' you were still in peak condition and entirely different thing to have that knowledge tested. As far as Barbie was concerned, he'd passed with high scores.

The second that countdown had hit '0' and the bombs around the pedestals had deactivated, he found himself bolting from the starting line and straight for the cornucopia. The first thing his hand had found was a long, viscous looking blade and that was what he used to chop down anyone who tried to get between him and a pack of supplies and then again when he made for the tree line.

Despite the misgivings he'd developed over the years from his first time in the arena, he was remorseless in taking out anyone who made for him. His plan was to take them all out, but this wasn't the best tactical time to do that. 'The environment will do most of the heavy lifting and the less blood on my hands the better.'

He wasn't going to hold back--this time his competitors would be fine, a little traumatized but alive and well after their deaths--but he also didn't want to be a butcher. That wasn't him anymore.

So he headed East, hoping that would take him to a river or something before he maybe found himself a little cluster of rocks to lay in wait and set up traps. That was the plan, anyway, he had no doubt the gamemakers would do what they could to try and kill him. He wasn't supposed to come out of this alive, after all, the government was through with him. 'Works for me. Luckily, the government never does anything right.'

He'd win this and then he'd disappear and not even damn President Snow and his Peacekeepers would be able to find him.

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Making Lies

Entries tagged with the games

Because I know that, when I wake up, the nightmare will start

After the rain stopped

It's all downhill from here

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January 2026

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