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thearena2015-06-10 10:16 am
metalicarus) wrote in thearena2015-06-10 10:16 am
Entry tags:
[Open] There's a devil in the church
Who| Jet and OPEN
What| The Gamemakers make sure Jet's getting punished for his actions
Where| Outside in some shade and then in the castle for the other two prompts
When| Tuesday-Thursday of Week 3
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of insanity throughout and reference to alcoholism in the last prompt. Feel free to tag any or more than one, if it interests you.
Ever since he'd been shoved into that tube still battered and bruised from the Peacekeepers, Jet had been expecting more, something awful that would rain down on him for his actions. They'd already been in the arena for nearly a month and there hadn't been much.
Sure, there were a few instances here and there, but not as much as he was expecting. Of course, when the beginning of the week rolled around and he tried to tug on that damn sword and all he'd gotten was terribly sick, he had to wonder if there'd even been a point in trying; something like that, the Gamemakers were sure to prevent him from even having a shot at, why reward someone you were trying to punish? That was what he thought about all that day as he recovered and questioned his life choices.
But that too went away after a bit and he couldn't stop the feeling that there had to be something worse around the corner, something he might not even see coming. Of course, part of the punishment could be just this: making him ridiculously paranoid, but he'd be surprised if that was really all that was in store for him.
What| The Gamemakers make sure Jet's getting punished for his actions
Where| Outside in some shade and then in the castle for the other two prompts
When| Tuesday-Thursday of Week 3
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of insanity throughout and reference to alcoholism in the last prompt. Feel free to tag any or more than one, if it interests you.
Ever since he'd been shoved into that tube still battered and bruised from the Peacekeepers, Jet had been expecting more, something awful that would rain down on him for his actions. They'd already been in the arena for nearly a month and there hadn't been much.
Sure, there were a few instances here and there, but not as much as he was expecting. Of course, when the beginning of the week rolled around and he tried to tug on that damn sword and all he'd gotten was terribly sick, he had to wonder if there'd even been a point in trying; something like that, the Gamemakers were sure to prevent him from even having a shot at, why reward someone you were trying to punish? That was what he thought about all that day as he recovered and questioned his life choices.
But that too went away after a bit and he couldn't stop the feeling that there had to be something worse around the corner, something he might not even see coming. Of course, part of the punishment could be just this: making him ridiculously paranoid, but he'd be surprised if that was really all that was in store for him.
no subject
But that doesn't really matter, not at the moment. Sam's still not going to ask in the middle of the arena.
He crouches down next to Jet, hand sliding from Jet's shoulder to cup his elbow as he tries to guide him up. "I think I can probably figure it out. We good to go?"
Is something going to try to attack us, he means, but he lets Jet fill in the blanks.
no subject
They needed to leave, but the silence he'd found after breaking all the windows and mirrors was so inviting, like he could stay in the cathedral and retain his sanity or face the arena outside these walls and possibly find the voices were returning. But laying around in his own destructive mess was a coward's choice and, if he was losing his mind, he could at least cling to what he still had left in response.
He took the first step towards the exit, but any bravery he might have felt he was holding to was undermined slightly by his unwillingness to be more than a few inches from Sam's side.
But being so close...it reminded him of Initiate and how Jet had held a blade to his brother's neck just as easily as he'd done to his own minutes before and while it had been his choice or not to cut his own throat, he didn't even realize Initiate had been there until it was almost too late. What if that insanity came back tenfold and the same happened to Sam?
"Sam...promise me that if I start flipping out and put you in danger, you'll knock me the hell out? Not gonna ask you to end me or anything dramatic like that, just don't let me hurt you or anyone else."
no subject
That question gives Sam a little more insight to Jet’s state of mind at the moment, but it doesn’t really give him a better idea on if this is the arena fucking with him or if it’s Jet’s own mind. Not that it really matters, at the moment, because Sam still has to reply to that.
Kurloz’d asked him the same thing, Bucky’d told him that he’d rather be dead than let someone control him like Hydra did, and Sam’s response is the same every damn time. He’s still a soldier, he’ll always be a soldier, and the vast majority of the time, he’ll do whatever he needs to in order to protect the greatest number of people.
Even if it kills him to do it.
He stops, putting a hand on Jet’s shoulder so he can turn him to face him, because he’s not willing to answer that without making eye contact.
“Yeah, man, I promise,” he says, quiet and sincere. “I wouldn’t let you hurt anyone, all right? But hope about we just do our best to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
no subject
It wasn't much, but Jet did feel relief from those words. But the way Sam said they should try not to let it happen, it made him uneasy. Sam didn't know how much easier that was said than done. He stayed silent until they started moving again, the glass carnage behind them as they entered the hall leading them back to the rest of the castle. It was once they'd reached that crossroad that he spoke up, voice quieter than normal for him, serious, but loud enough for Sam to hear. "Yesterday, I was leaving the Great Hall and...I guess either Kur was following me or he was there in the hall anyway and I- I didn't see him, I grabbed him, pushed him against a wall and held a knife to his throat and I didn't even see him, I saw ghosts. I didn't even know it was happening until I'd almost-" He cut himself off, eyes down on the ground ahead of them. He was sick with the thought of how that sentence ended. "There was a goddamn line in his skin where the blade had been.
If that happens again, I don't know that I'll be able to snap out of it like I did."
no subject
"Maybe we shouldn't be leaving each other alone right now."
He doesn't like talking about this in the arena, when he knows people are watching and the Capitol might be looking for something to exploit, but he can't just let that sit.
"Did you have flashbacks before you came here?"
no subject
That other question was a little harder. Plus, there was something wrong about it, but one thing at a time. "Before this arena? sometimes, but not like this. It's usually just when things get too dark or too quiet and my mind stirs up crap but these...I don't know, these weren't just flashbacks, most of them were but some of it was new like my head made it up."
Holding a knife to his own throat, what Nevua had said to him right before Jet broke all the glass, that was new and terrifying. Still, he sewed together a crooked and slightly nervous smile. "Don't know about you 'doc' but that sounds pretty not normal to me." Sounded like something a crazy person would say.
no subject
Sam gives a soft, vaguely amused snort when Jet calls him ‘doc,’ and shakes his head. “Not a lot is normal about either of us, man.”
But he knows what Jet meant by that. The idea of losing it is so damn scary for people like them, and there’s a stigma of crazy that’s real fucking tough to beat.
“It sounds like the Gamemakers. We knew they were gonna be coming after you hard, and it won’t be the first time they’ve done shit like that. You’re not the only one seeing shit.”
Though what Jet’s talking about sounds a lot worse than Clint yelling at ghosts.