bakerstreet | the hunger games meme.

Entry tags:

the hunger games meme.

warning for adult content and possible triggers:
violence, death, nonconsent and all around questionable situations.

THE HUNGER GAMES MEME

Congratulations, Tribute.

You have been selected to participate in the Hunger Games.

The rules are simple: there can only be one victor.
You have to kill everyone else or die.

The last one standing wins.
May the odds be ever in your favour.

⚔

OPTIONS FOR THE SCENARIO-MINDED:

1. ENEMIES: in for the kill
The truth is you've been plotting each other's death for a long time. The only thing different about this situation is that everyone else actually wants you to off each other. Who cares if both of you are probably going to die anyway: no one is taking this bastard down except you.

2. ROMANCE: lovers in a dangerous time
What do lovers do when they know they're about to die? Last kiss, last words, last fuck? Maybe you're desperately trying to protect each other from the rest. Maybe you're the last two left alive. What sacrifices are you willing to make? How far will you allow each other to go?

3. ALLIES: set your arms down
It's in both of your best interests to stick together. Two together is more deadly than one, and you can pool supplies and weapons. Of course, this arrangement is most definitely temporary. Maybe it'll fall apart tonight, or tomorrow, or next week. Maybe your alliance has already run its course, and it's about to fall apart...right now.

4. TORTURE: death's not the worst
Sure, the point is to kill them. But why leave it at that? Maybe you've always secretly gotten off on this sort of thing, or maybe you've just cracked under the stress. When everyone is going to die, there's no point in sticking to all those rules society laid down for you any more. You've already incapacitated them; there's no way they can fight back. Might as well have some fun, right?

5. VICTORY: the finish line
You've done it. Last one standing. You've chosen to live, and no one but you knows how much that choice cost you, because they're all dead. At this point there's nothing that will stop you from stepping up to claim victory. You killed every other tribute. Or did you?

6. OTHER: write your own story
Anything and everything you can think of. In the arena, there are no rules.

⚔

Let the Games begin.

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[And then Dave is there to catch her, his free arm around her shoulders, and he's tall enough for his age that he's just the right height.]

Whoa there, cowgirl, sit down two seconds and let me see.

[Dammit. He should have been faster. Head wounds bleed like a bitch and he doesn't know first aid from fuck all, patch-ups have always been Bro's job. Still, he tries to shut out the other girl's last dying gasp and--after a good look around--sets down his sword, digs his teeth into the seam of his sleeve up near his shoulder, and after a moment's struggle succeeds in tearing the sleeve off. He slips it off his arm and starts to dab one end at her cut.

The cannon fires and he looks around again for any signs of approach that the sound could mask.]

I guess you don't have water either to clean this shit, right. I'm already sacrificing my delicate porcelain complexion for you here.

[He's suddenly sure no one will come. They'll have found the obvious water. The Careers will be waiting at an oasis, or they'll wait for the cannon to announce their deaths by desert.

He scans the horizon once more, looking not only for enemies but vegetation.]

...Can you walk?

[ Peering back at Dave skeptically as he dabs at the headwound. Not having the best time focusing her gaze can't be a good sign. She fucked up. The disappointment stings worse than the gash on her head. Nah, her head hurts worse.

Smiles, opens her mouth to tell the boy that she can walk, there's a little water in her pack, that he's fussing for nothing- but only has a moment before Roxy turns her head and wretch into the sand. Shit, extra not good sign. ]

Awesome..

Yeah, this is exactly what you'd find under 'awesome' in the dictionary. Field trip's cancelled. Hold tight, I'm bandaging your head.

[She let him dab at it, so he forces himself to relax and not imagine she'll turn and stab him in the neck as he wraps the clean part of his sleeve around her head. He tries not to tie it too tightly, not knowing what else to do.

Done, he picks up his sword again and patrols a circle around her and the dead Tribute, trying to make out any shapes against the rising heat shimmers. He pauses about a foot past the girl's body, squinting through his shades, and then turns to loot her corpse.]

Get back in the shade and hide for a little while. I'll BRB.

[ Taking a few deep breaths as Dave tends to her wound. No point killing him when he's helping her. It would be easy to finish her off like this.. so why not?

Grim smile back to Dave, leaning against the wall to gradually push herself to her feet. Blood oozes from the knife in her grip, under the wrappings of Dave's sleeve. ]

Looks like we're even now.

[Hell yeah, a canteen--fuck, it's empty. Still, it's exactly what he needs, and he slips it into one of the deep pockets of his pants and snaps the flap shut over it before standing.]

I dunno about that. [He watches her stand and is sure he can't take her into the desert right now. He nods over his shoulder. A dark, indistinct something squats low on the horizon.] Maybe after I bring back the groceries. Got a pen, make me a list?

[ Follows his gaze slowly to the shelter, low look back to Dave. ]

We playing house? [Twists the knife in her grip, taking long, measured breaths, focusing on specific points in her vision to keep it from swimming. ] We're even now. You don't owe me anything.

[He knows. And it makes sense to leave her with the corpse there like a homing beacon while he gets the fuck out. He can just imagine Rose dropping stitches while she stares at him on the screen, trying to bore "LEAVE HER, YOU INSUFFERABLE PRICK" telepathically into his brain.

But Bro would be watching, too.

Dave shrugs and rests the dull edge of his sword against his shoulder.]

I hear domestic comedies used to be pretty popular entertainment back before us primitive throwbacks got civilization handed down from the Capitol. How 'bout this, Mom: I'll be back in ten minutes. I'll go as far as I can in five, see what's around, then turn right back so we can argue about who owes who what.

[ He IS being insufferable! There's no reason for this alliance anymore, especially with Roxy teetering on the edge of Super Fucking Concussed. But she smiles involuntarily when he calls her mom- some reason she can't place- and manages a slight nod. Slowly turns her eyes to the shelter Dave gestured to earlier. It's relatively close, and she's going to march straight there without a stumble to prove to Dave she's not as helpless and pathetic as he so clearly thinks. Or maybe it's better if he does think she's helpless, easier to slip the knife through his neck.

Lurching across the sand as fast as she can muster, Roxy tries to push that thought of her mind. He looks like a friend of hers, you don't stab friends. You stab that girl without even thinking of her name- Meenah- but you wouldn't stab Dave after he looked out for you.

When she reaches the shade, Roxy squints through the change in lighting to keep an eye on Dave while he patrols the surroundings. She'll look out for him for now. Her fingers itch around the knife in her hands. But if someone goes after him, you let it lie, she tells herself. You don't kill friends, but somebody else can take them out. Hopefully Janey would understand that. ]

[Dave gives the immediate area a thorough checking-over even though he knows he's wasting time, but the sudden appearance of that girl from District Four unsettled him more than he liked to show. What with the heat and his lack of sleep, he doesn't think he can trust his own judgment unless he makes a big production out of it.

When nobody bothers after a minute to pick off the obviously tired thirteen-year-old kicking around the place, he sets himself at the edge of his self-established perimeter and shades his eyes. There is something out there. He turns towards Roxy's shelter again and holds out his hand, fingers splayed wide. Five minutes, yeah? And then he'll be right back. He doesn't give her a chance to tell him no and heads out, stepping as light as he can in the sand.

When he's far enough away that he figures the heat shimmers must be masking him some, he starts watching the ground. There. Embedded in the wall. The lens clicks and whirs, glassy and metallic and alien. He makes a show of stumbling, tripping over his exhaustion, and whoops-was-that-my-sword-gee-whiz smashes the camera.

And then before they can get a focus on him again, he tenses, breathes in, and falls into the power that let him say, when his name was called and he looked over his shoulder to see his Bro's face, unreadable not from calm but from utter blankness--the power that let Dave say, with half a shrug despite his pounding, traitorous trapped-bird heart, "Hey. I got this, Bro."

He bends a fistful of time around himself and runs.

Dave trudges back just under ten minutes later with two canteens sloshing in his pockets, a backpack over one shoulder, and a sunburn all down his exposed arm so red it seems he must have been out there for an hour. He looks beat enough for that to be true, and he's limping a little. But his sword's dark with blood.

There's the faint whump of an explosion in the distance. Dave lifts his head a little.]

Hey. You miss me?

[ Was just starting to let her head rest against the side of the shelter when a voice hits her ears, then the rumble of an explosion. Wide eyed, shoots straight up. Bled through Dave's sleeve already, hair matted against the side of her head, devoid of the usual blonde color present on the uninjured side.

For half a second she forgot she was in the Games at all. Roxy thought that this was somewhere else, that was Dirk waking her up unkindly from a bender, for the two of them to collaborate on some new inventions. But the boy's face comes into focus, the reflection from his wrongly shaped sunglasses, the subtly different way he stands. Wait, no, that's a fucking limp. And blood and.. wow, lots of supplies, that's cool. But wait! What the shit happened back there?? ]

Did I black out?

[ Glance from the supplies to Dave, trying to get a read on this situation. ]

Where did you get water? The nearest oasis that isn't a fistful of acid is at least fifteen minutes a- What the shit!

[Nope, needs to get up. He let her sleep too long, she can't be wasting time here. Keeping a mental score of how many tributes left, not including them there's seven. Or is it, including them? Wait, did she remember to count the girl from four they just butchered?

Caught up in her thoughts, the void element starts to inch back to life. Getting beat about the head sorta takes it out of a girl, but sleeping, even for a second, has always been a nice kickstart for the element. It probably resembles a blip in the broadcasting, sand in the camera lens, the way Roxy's starting to void out from the radar, Disappear back against the shade. Probably looks creepy as fuck in real life though. ]

[He shrugs and the movement is short and stiff because he's bone-tired and his sunburn hurts like a motherfucker and he just--

There it is. The cannon fires, and Dave doesn't do more than shrug his backpack off and set it down. He's been expecting the cannon. He knows who it's for.]

If you blacked out, can't have been for long. I've only been gone ten minutes, since I figured you'd pine without my glorious presence.

[He crouches to start unpacking the bag--a little light food, crackers and peanut butter, but more importantly there's a whole jar of antiseptic cream. He considers his answer as he unscrews the top.]

Ran into some fucker before I got anywhere near an oasis. The dude from Three. Skinny-ass conksucking bastard. Kinda smart, though, I guess. Dude likes his traps. Pretty good with wires and shit.

Took this stuff from him.

[That's...almost true. Though that guy--Solex or something?--knew better than to leave his precious water. Hence the traps. Dave got lucky with just some shrapnel grazes.

He gets the jar open and then, even though Roxy's right there, pushes his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. After all that time in the glare of the sun, his eyes must not be adjusting well to the shaded shelter.

And then he looks up to see her vanishing into the darkness and his eyes widen like a spooked deer.]

[ Knows that look. Knows that EXACT look, to be honest, that's Dirk's face when she starts to wander off, when he has to grab her shoulders and remind her that if they know you have an element they will put you in the Games. You're supposed to be passive, right, so get to the fucking pass and stop playing around with shit that's bigger than you. The void is comfortable, but that look always snaps her back. She's getting a variation of it, Roxy supposed, but the eyes are still the same.

Roxy swallows hard, trying to pretend like she hadn't just blurred at the edges, started a whole new level of blacking out. Weak grin, nods to the food and medicine. Short laugh. ]

That for me? Now who's pining.

[ Lurches to crawl past Dave, needs to peek out of the shelter and see who it is that got themselves killed. From this close the smell of blood on Dave, over her skull, is overpowering. Peers up at the sky for the announcement. Hopefully Dave will just figure it was the trick of the light. No need to let anybody know what little tricks she had up her sleeve. ]

[Her back's to him, and Dave's hands fall slowly to the hilt of the sword he put down to open the medicine jar. He's holding his breath, mind racing through every memory of Bro shutting him off, drilling into him since he was old enough to hold three words in his head that those three should be "Don't show anyone." The memory of the last time he saw Bro, how if he hadn't said anything Bro would have taken his sword and killed everyone he could until they took him down--the one time maybe Bro appreciated what Dave can do.

And this chick can...?

Can and didn't, he reminds himself. She didn't. She could have and she didn't. And it's hot and he hurts and he just killed some dude and raced through time back to her because there's something about her that--she's not like Bro, no one's like Bro, but she's like someone Bro could have liked.

He grips the sword, but only in one hand, and instead of attacking he touches her elbow. His voice cracks, young and pubescent and overtired.]

Don't let them see.

[ She starts at the touch, shooting a look back to Dave. Hesitates, eyes flickering to the sword in his grip. ]

They won't see me.

[ But knows what Dave meant. What was she, born yesterday? It was a lapse in judgement, the affects of falling asleep for even a moment. This is why Roxy can't sleep in the arena, why she's pushing forward while still blinking through blood. She can't go too long without sleep, nobody can, but there's nobody here to look after her when she does, nobody to pull her away from danger, to keep the Gamemakers from realizing why she's so tough to track. I can't protect you there, Dirk had said. She never asked him to. ]

Ugh, it's too bright! I can't see who died!

[ Ducks her head back into the shelter and fixes Dave with a level look. He's burnt, there's no way that was just fifteen minutes. Even if the sun looks like it's in the same position, there's just no way he'd get that burnt, that much supplies- killed someone? in such a short amount of time. Can't be the only one juggling elements out here. Little resigned sigh. ]

You get some sleep. That catnap fixed me right up.

[ Reaches out to run her thumb over the funny burn pattern on his face, thanks to the sunglasses. Mumbles, smiling like a proud mom. ]

You are such a dork.

[He flinches at her touch--he's not used to movement so near his eyes, let alone something so nonthreatening and...and...gentle. He blinks at her a moment, then slides his shades back onto his face and moves deeper into the shelter.

God, why does he care?]

Wow, did the sun fry your brain, who's the fucking dork with a sleeve tied around her head? You're like, Joan of Dork. The Queen of Dorksheba. Aphrodorky. Patron saint of every goofy four-eyes who ever thought the tooth fairy was real.

[Maybe he's not at the top of his game, but it's been a long day. He pushes the medicine jar towards her and then scoots against the wall, squirming to get comfortable with his sword balanced against his chest. He's trying not to look like a schoolkid blushing over holding hands for the first time. It's hopeless, though, with his sunburned cheeks.

He pulls out one canteen and restrains himself to a sip when he'd like nothing more than to chug it all down, then tosses the other--the one that had belonged to the District Three guy--over to Roxy.]

It was the guy with the lisp. Who bit it, I mean. The one with a wasps' nest up his ass and every psych disorder known to man.

[ What a cutie. Grins back at Dave but won't draw attention to the supposed blush. Gladly takes the canteen, taking a sip before she retorts to thr boy's teasing. ]

You just named famous beautiful women! Am I supposed to be offended or something? You're so not killing me cause I'm hot.

[ You'd never guess how injured she was judging by what a brat Roxy was being. What's a little teasing between tributes?

Shrugs when Dave remarks on Sollux's death. She wasn't close with any of the tributes before now. Not how you win. Reaches for the food.]

Was kinda hoping it was the guy from my District. Equius? He'd crush you like a grape.

[Dave closes his eyes for a moment. It's like he can still feel the weight of the sun bearing down on him, turning everything around him into bone-bleaching, shimmering death. He shrugs without opening them. She probably can't see behind his shades, anyway.]

General Weirdicus of the Creep Empire? I don't think he's got enough sponsors for the towels he'd need to get his sweaty mitts on this fly bod. Though I guess I owe him at least a sword in the leg. For the girl from my District.

[He drags his eyes open again and, against his better judgment, takes another sip of water. He screws the cap on tightly--no more, no matter how hot he feels, he has to make it last--and then quietly pulls up his pant leg to check the damage from his encounter with the District Three Tribute's mine trap.

Okay. It's. Not that bad. He dove out of the way in time. A couple blistering weals from stray shrapnel, a little swelling around the ankle when he landed just a bit less than gracefully. He can probably just bind it up with his other sleeve and call it a day.]

Slide the medgoop over when you're done with it, would you, babe?

[ Instead of sliding the medicine to Dave, she sits down beside him to look after the boy's leg herself. Hey, hey patched up her injury, it's only fair she does for him. Plus he brought her food, so if she patches up his leg, that might even it out again. Not sure why she's so into making sure things are even between them. Maybe it's so one of them can kill the other without feeling guilty?

Roxy swats aside Dave's hand and gingerly starts dabbing the medicine against the blisters. Not exactly the most gentle touch, but she's trying.

Quietly. ]

So Equius killed that girl? That's kinda surprising.

Hey--

[He winces and clings to his sword, but just for something to hold while she pokes at his leg. He lets a breath out, slowly, and looks away to show that he's letting her. Not that he's a wuss about his own blood and boo-boos or anything, but if she really wants to, then. Okay.]

Well no, but he might as well have stuck the fork in her himself for all the good his mouth-breathing stalker crush did her. He couldn't have led Fishbitch to her better if he'd gift-wrapped her in Christmas lights and blown a horn.

[He picks at the sword's leather wrapping.]

Which is as much of a shame as I ever heard, 'cause I hoped she'd at least get a chance to enjoy all these ruins before they got her. She'd never have made it, but she was okay.

[ Appreciates that Dave doesn't knee her in the face for her trouble, she's had enough head trauma for the day. Using a bulk of the medicine on his leg, because if this shit gets infected he's not going to be able to move. Head wounds bleed plenty, but short of a fancy concussion Roxy is going to soldier through that injury She really just needs some rest but.. fuck, who in the Games doesn't? ]

I dunno, I thought she was pretty enough to get some Sponsors' help along the way.

[ Holds out her hand for his other sleeve or some wrapping Dave might offer. Mentally going over the line up in her head. ]

So there's us and Equius. Who else do we have to cut through to win this?

[ Not sure why she's phrasing it like they have an option of working together the whole way. Maybe it's the blood loss, or the way she really wants to tuck this kid in her pocket and look after him.. somebody always has to take care of the scrappy kid who's been unfairly flung into the Games. Roxy just never figured it'd be her. ]

[He stares at her hand a second, then gets the idea and starts to tear off his other sleeve. If he notices the weirdness of using 'we,' he doesn't comment on it.]

Anger management midget teamed up with the blind justice chick for now. I think they've been boning since the parade. That weird juggalo stoner guy might be with them, I don't know. I lost track of them after the bloodbath, but if we run into them, I could probably rap the juggalo to death.

[The sleeve rips away and he hands it to her, then crosses his arms over his knees and rests his chin on his unburned forearm.]

I took care of the other douchebag from Four.

[Asshole had the sword, and even if he'd scored the highest with the Sponsors, none of the other Tributes could stand him. So he'd been off at the edge of their little Career camp, alone, tangled up in his ridiculous desert cloak for warmth.

Easy pickings for little carrion crows.]

Seen the other Careers lately or are they too busy with the arrangements for his corpse party?

[ Tying the sleeve over his leg, at least now he doesn't so so ridiculous with only one arm to his shirts. Eyes droop as she finished the job- nope. Stay awake. At Dave's question, Roxy mentally starts to go through who else is left. ]

They're by the water about forty minutes south of here. I snuck by when they were- [ She wasn't afraid of the Games, of the Careers, of what they had to do to survive this shit. But hearing that shy boy beg for his life, getting tortured, bones snapping- It was a great memory to think back on when she was feeling sleepy. ]

.. They've got a real comfortable set up over there.

[ Hands some of the food to Dave while she works on her own portion. Sitting back against the edge of the shelter, counting through who's left. ]

I got the catgirl at the Cornucopia, and the District 4 douche killed that girl who designed her own dress. [ Weighing their options over in her head. ] We could go kill the blind chick at least, I saw them before I found you. She was talking about that one eyed Career girl like they were gonna make an alliance. Get them before they get us?

[ Snacking away through this discussion, as if it's just a conversation about the weather rather than gutting their peers. ]

[He hesitates with a good dollop of peanut butter on a cracker halfway to his mouth.

He liked Terezi. She was one of the only Tributes who even bothered to try to scope out the dead meat thirteen-year-old from District Ten, and they'd let each other draw dicks on their faces at the camouflage training station. He didn't even know what a blind girl was doing at the camouflage station. He laughed then. It was like she was determined to die flipping the bird at everyone with both hands, cackling.

But one time the juggalo almost crept up on her, and Dave got a glimpse of what she could do.

He chews half the cracker.]

Nightfall?

[ Roxy sees the hesitation. So what if you liked somebody, that doesn't really matter when you're in the Games, right? She kinda liked Equius. He and Dirk got along really well and for all his poker faces in the world, Roxy could tell it killed him to watch two of his friends get onto that train, the idea that one at the most of them was coming back. But that was what had to happen. One of them would have to butcher the other, it didn't matter what they were before now. Equius and Roxy turned down the offer to train together immediately. Their mentor had laughed- not really team players, are they?

He probably was confused what Roxy was playing at now. ]

You're not listening. We wait much longer and they're gonna join the Careers. [Mouthful of cracker, points out. ] Then they're gonna send packs out lookin for us.

[ To be honest, Roxy can't be sure of any of this. But her head fucking hurts, she's hot and there's only a few more hours before she'll collapse from a lack of sleep. And if she has to have Dave die, better sooner than later. She can't do it, but she can lead them to a situation where he might get trapped, stumble on a bad leg. Then just use the void and get away and.. what? Fuck it seems really shitty to let Dave die after everything he did. The food feels like a dead weight in her stomach.

If the Careers want a bunch of comic relief circus rejects.

[He finishes his cracker but doesn't reach for another one, he just digs two fingers right into the peanut butter jar. You want manners, go to the Capitol and fuck yourself with the second sorbet spoon.

Roxy has a point, though. He never liked the way Terezi and Madam Bluebeard grinned at each other over the practice knives like coyotes in a henhouse. Still, he could probably fry an egg on the heat of his sunburn, and if he goes out there again he might just pitch face-down in the sand like a poleaxed cow. And Roxy doesn't look so hot, either.]

Excuse me for thinking we could both use some beauty sleep. We are on national TV, you know, we got swag to keep up, babes back home to impress. The second I get home, I plan to literally drown in bitches.

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