Day 3, 5:55 PM.
Location: Outdoor Slides.


Dean sighed, twirling his spear between his hands. It seemed so quiet here, but Dean figured that wouldn't last long with Chiffon by his side. As if summoned by this thought, Chiffon appeared, brushing his hand over Dean's shoulder.

"Have you found anything?" Chiffon purred, sheathing his sword across his back. "Because I certainly have not."

"Nope," Dean replied. The land before them was entirely barren; the only structures were the rusted metal supports. They stuck into the ground, tall grass and moss climbing around their bases, with slides stretching into the sky beyond.

"Dang," Chiffon sighed. "I was hoping for some kind of action today."

"I know," Dean agreed. "But we gotta be patient… I mean, really there's only so much we can do, right?"

"Yeah," Chiffon sighed, perching on one of the concrete anchors. "Let's at least sit down for a bit."

Chiffon flashed his trademark grin to Dean, who couldn't help but follow his lead. He sat next to Chiffon, who pulled out a water canteen and took a sip before offering it to Dean. The boy from Four accepted it, taking a swig as he considered what to do next. What else could they do, really? They'd already been attempting to hunt other tributes, but there were only two of them and that would only get them so far. The Arena was wearing on them both, Dean could tell. Chiffon's jokes and comments were becoming less frequent. Dean could feel the exhaustion setting in with every movement he made. As Dean sighed deeply, his arm brushed against Chiffon's and Dean realized just how close together they were. Chiffon leaned into him more, and Dean let himself settle into his ally's side, both of them quiet for a moment.

They were tired. Dean was tired.

But they had no choice but to keep moving, keep doing what they needed to do. They were here for a purpose- here to win -and Dean wasn't about to let all their hard work go to waste.

Not now. Not ever.

As Dean pondered, he heard something curious- a cracking noise, perhaps? He wasn't quite able to put his finger on it as he raised his head, searching the landscape. The area was just as dead and empty as before, but the sound continued anyways.

"Do you hear that?" Dean asked. Chiffon looked up, swivelling his head around.

"Uh… no?" Chiffon replied, scratching the back of his head. "What do you hear?"

"It's like… It's like a cracking noise?" Dean said, struggling to find the words. It wasn't quite cracking, but he still couldn't put a finger on what it was.

"Hmm," Chiffon hummed. He climbed on top of the concrete block, using Dean's shoulder to steady himself. "No, I don't see anything. But that doesn't mean there's nothing here."

"Right," Dean nodded, offering Chiffon a hand as he climbed off the concrete. The One boy linked his fingers through Dean's, holding tightly onto his hand as he jumped down. Their hands remained interlocked as Chiffon took a seat next to Dean again.

"Can I have my hand back…?" Dean said, blinking at their interlocked fingers. He wasn't exactly sure what to make of it. On the one hand, this was Chiffon. But, on the other hand, it was nice to have some human contact. Chiffon always seemed to be good at it, their hands brushing together, or when Dean woke up in the mornings to their backs pressed together.

Dean was overthinking it though. Of course he was. This was nothing. It couldn't mean anything.

"If you ask nicely, I'll return it," Chiffon smiled, his face close enough that Dean could see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"Can I please have my hand back?" Dean repeated, softly. Chiffon nodded, releasing his hand back to him. As he did, Dean paused again, listening.

"That noise is gone now," Dean said, turning his head.

"Is it?" Chiffon said, raising an eyebrow. "That's strange."

"I agree. We should get moving again."

Dean set off, Chiffon trailing along at his side. They fell silent, as they both listened - Dean was thankful that, while Chiffon could fill silence, he was good at knowing when to genuinely shut up. He was a good ally, Dean would give him that- and perhaps even a friend.

Perhaps in another world, perhaps in another life they could've been friends- or even something more. But here, they could only be allies, and only for so long at that. Either way, Dean would hold onto their bond as long as possible.

The structures above their heads cast long shadows as they walked. Dean couldn't help but feel uneasy, though, as if everything around them was holding its breath, as if the rusted structures looming over them could come crashing down at any moment.

And come crashing down, things would.

"Dean!" Chiffon hissed sharply. Dean spun around to see a figure emerging from the trees behind them. It was Cecil- it had to be, the bright violent green of District Three recognizable to even him. Dean sighed, taking off towards him- finally they'd found Cecil.

But Cecil wasn't the only thing to burst through the treeline. A blur of bright gold emerged behind Cecil- Mystic. And just behind her was Reign.

"Chiffon, we gotta help," Dean appeared at his side a moment later, sword practically materialising in his hand.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

Chiffon grinned, taking off. He was thrilled- finally, for the first time in days, they were seeing a fight. And even better- it was the other Careers they were fighting.

If there was ever the time for Chiffon to take the spotlight, it was here and now.

Advancing on the other Careers, Chiffon came to a sliding stop before Reign and Mystic. The girl came to a stop in front of him as well, and Chiffon gave her a small wave.

"Fancy meeting you here," Chiffon quipped, swinging his sword. It arced through the air, and she blocked his strike with a growl. Mystic darted to his left, but quickly tumbled to the ground. Chiffon spun on his heel to see Cecil standing over her.

"You're not dead," Chiffon remarked.

"Not yet," Cecil grinned, shaking his head.

"Wonderful," Chiffon sighed. "Go help Dean?" Chiffon thought the boy would argue, but he didn't, giving a quick nod as he ran off towards Dean and Reign.

Chiffon turned back to Mystic, who had peeled herself off the ground. "Damn you," she hissed, staggering to her feet, sword clutched between her hands. She swung, arcing wide, and Chiffon ducked under the blow, sidestepping to her left. He twirled his sword, and as it connected, a long gash appeared along her arm.

"Why are you with Reign?" Chiffon asked, as he continued dodging blows from Mystic. While she was skilled with her sword, it was still rather large and slow, leaving plenty of opportunities for Chiffon to weave between her attacks, cutting her at any given opportunity. He didn't want to kill her- not yet- but that didn't mean Chiffon couldn't have a little fun first.

"I had no option," Mystic replied through gritted teeth, finally cleaving down with her sword. Chiffon brought his own up, blocking the strike with a resounding clang as they stopped, blades straining against one another.

"Then take an option now," Chiffon hissed, their faces mere inches away from each other. "I don't want to kill you."

"What?" Mystic asked, her voice soft.

"Leave," Chiffon repeated. "While he's distracted."

"No, I can't," Mystic growled, pushing Chiffon back with her weapon. Her blade caught him, slicing across his cheekbone. A stinging wetness dripped down his face, the feeling shockingly foreign to him.

"You cut me," Chiffon said softly, bringing his fingers up to his face. They came away sticky and wet with blood. He'd never been cut in a fight before- never sported scars like the other trainees. It was a source of pride for Chiffon and now-

Now things weren't quite so pristine.

Chiffon grabbed his throwing stars, pulling two out as Mystic advanced upon him again. Mystic blocked the first one, but the second embedded itself in Mystic's chest. Forget kindness, forget sympathy; there would be no more.

Not from Chiffon. Not any longer.


Reign kicked Dean, sending him down to the ground. Four scrambled, searching for his weapon, but only finding the shattered shards of what had once been his spear. Reign placed a heavy boot on his chest holding him in place.

"Give it up," Reign sneered, holding his blade at Dean's throat. "Did you kill Claudia?"

"No," Dean replied, his eyes wide at the blade inches from his throat. "It wasn't us."

Reign rolled his eyes, pulling the blade back. It wasn't that he wanted to avenge her so much as he wanted to learn who'd done it. He couldn't risk letting such a threat run around the Arena; they might catch Ping, and then what would he have left?

All he wanted was this one kill. Just this one. And Reign would not let anybody take it from him.

Pulling his blade back, Reign swung- a killing blow- but before it could connect he was knocked off balance. Something heavy connected with his ribs in the exact same spot Tarni had caught him. Reign hissed as he caught his balance and turned to see Cecil, batons in hand and grinning wildly.

Lunging for the boy, Reign blocked one of Cecil's swings with his shield. But the other boy was fast, faster than Reign anticipated; darted under Reign's strike, a blur of blonde as his baton smashed into Reign's side again. Reign spun wildly, trying to catch the boy but was unable to. He quickly realised Dean was back on his feet again, his spears having been discarded for a pair of knives. The Four boy attacked. Reign attempted to dodge but one of the knives still caught, slicing along his face.

The last thing Reign wanted to do was run from a fight. But he could see Mystic and Chiffon still fighting nearby and Chiffon seemed to be winning as he continued advancing on Mystic. They were outnumbered the moment they'd entered this fight, and Reign didn't want to lose the protection Mystic brought with her yet. But what could they do? How could they get out of this? Reign didn't know for sure that Chiffon and Dean wouldn't pursue them if they ran.

And just like that, Reign had an idea. Perhaps Reign could at least slow them down.

Holding his shield aloft, Reign deflected one of Cecil's attacks. He faked swinging for the boy and Dean quickly moved to intercept. Reign turned his sword around, sinking his sword through Dean's shoulder. The boy gasped, dropping one of his knives as Reign kicked his legs out from beneath him, sending him to the ground.

"Dean!" Cecil cried, turning his attention away from Reign. The boy from Two quickly backed away, taking the opportunity to run. He watched as Mystic pushed Chiffon back, Mystic and Reign both retreating into the trees as quickly as possible.

"Well that… didn't go well," Mystics gasped out after a few minutes of them running.

"It didn't," Reign replied. "But I got confirmation they didn't kill Claudia."

Mystic fell silent for a few moments before responding. "I'd take any confirmation you get with a grain of salt."

"I know."

Reign sighed as they pushed onwards at a slower but steady speed. It was cowardly to run from a fight, but there was no choice. He had more important things to attend to than dying- and dying at the hands of pathetic excuses for Careers like Dean and Chiffon was even worse.

Reign couldn't afford to die. Not now, not so soon.

Not yet.


Day 3, 8:49 PM
Location: Northern Control Booth.


"So," Verity grinned as she swung around the lamppost pole. "Now what?"

"We go home for the night," Diesel replied quietly as he zipped his bag up. They'd been making their way around, collecting anything Diesel deemed useful. She didn't know what he was planning but he was certainly planning something- Verity knew that much.

Just what though? Verity couldn't stand the mystery- she had to know.

"So what are we gonna do with all this stuff?" Verity asked as they walked hand in hand.

"You'll see," Diesel muttered, turning his attention to the horizon. "We should move quickly. The sun's going down."

"It is. It's so pretty," Verity agreed. The sun hung low in the sky, streaks of brilliant gold and orange clinging to the last of daytime's bright blue. It was beautiful- they didn't get these kinds of sunsets in Six, where the air was so hazy and disgusting. Here, there was nothing in the air to block out the brilliant colours, nor were there any buildings to obscure the setting sun. It was just Diesel and Verity, and the sky full of colours like a painting.

"Yeah," Diesel sighed awkwardly, staring up at the sky for a moment.

"So when do I get to know?" Verity asked again, as they picked their way through the cracked remains of the road.

"Soon," Diesel replied simply.

That was such an unsatisfying answer to Verity. "How soon?"

"I don't know."

Verity sighed. She didn't understand what he could possibly be planning that was so important that she couldn't know; they were a team after all. Perhaps Verity could help, but she could only do that if he told her what he was going to do.

Secrets never stayed secret for long though. Not with Verity.

They walked in silence for a bit longer as the brilliant colours of the sky crept further and further up, overtaking its daytime blue. There were lines of red now, and deep purple, stunning and vibrant like nothing she'd ever seen in her life. Verity was glad to see it, sure, but she was even more glad Diesel was by her side to see it too. It was nicer to see good things with loved ones, Verity realized. Holding onto memories was much easier when you had somebody to experience them with. And Diesel held onto things tighter than anybody she'd ever met in her life.

Verity was glad he'd held onto her.

Turning off the path into the shadows of the forest, the pair followed the makeshift path they'd made back to their base. She trailed after Diesel, still holding his hand tightly, trusting him to navigate through the traps he'd set. Diesel got them through expertly, as Verity expected. There was never anything to worry about with Diesel by her side. A hundred things could go wrong, but things would still be okay as long as he was there.

Stepping into their shelter, Verity scanned the interior. It was as empty as they'd left it, thankfully. They'd run into that girl from Three the night before and that alone had put Diesel on edge more than he'd already been. Verity couldn't blame him, but it wasn't like everyone in the Arena was a Career. Not all of them were fighting to fight; some of them were simply fighting to survive. There was no point in making each other's lives harder than they already were.

Sometimes all the world needed was a little kindness, and Verity was more than willing to give it.

Sliding down the wall, Verity landed on the floor with a thud. They'd had a long few days of walking, and while she certainly enjoyed it, she was always tired when they got home. Diesel hovered for a moment before taking a seat next to her, their shoulders pressing together as Verity leaned against him. Diesel pulled a few trinkets from his pocket, wires and bits of metal and a small, faded plastic box.

"What's that for?" Verity asked, watching as he cracked open the box.

"Mm, that's tricky to explain," Diesel replied.

"I have the time."

"Of course," Diesel nodded. "If I can get it to work it should in theory…" He trailed off, pulling a small board with wires out of his pocket. A small light was attached to it, similar to the ones they'd found on the control panels scattered around in the various booths in the Arena. He pushed a small button on the board, and the light lit up a dim, glowing red.

"Oh!" Verity exclaimed, staring in wonder at the light. "That's so cool! What are we gonna do with it though?"

"Well…" Diesel said, trailing off. "That… I don't really know how to explain that."

"Can I know?" Verity asked again- for what felt like the hundredth time, shaking Diesel's arm. "I just wanna know what we're doing, I can help, I promise."

"Of course you can," Diesel said, brushing his hand over hers. "But… can you trust me?"

"Of course," Verity nodded, eagerly.

"I need you to trust me on this okay?" Diesel continued. "Please?"

"Okay," Verity nodded. "Okay, I can do that."

"Thank you," Diesel grinned. Verity grabbed his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He laughed softly as she pulled back, still holding his face in her hands.

"What's the plan for tomorrow then?" Verity asked. Diesel paused for a moment, his face going a deep shade of red as he thought.

"I think… we need to go back to the Cornucopia," Diesel mused. "There's lots of cars there… even if they're not in the best shape they'll probably still have lots of parts in them."

"Hm," Verity hummed. "The only issue is if the Careers are still there."

"I think we should… uh… go and scout it out first, and then if they're there just… leave it alone," Diesel said. "And if they aren't…"

"Then that's perfect!" Verity exclaimed. Diesel nodded, and they fell into silence for a bit as Diesel continued fiddling with his box. Verity trusted him- but still, what was he planning?

All Verity wanted was to know. And it would come in time, sure, but that didn't mean she couldn't try and figure it out anyways.

She would get to the bottom of this mystery.