thearena | What's good for the goose is good for the gander.

Entry tags:

What's good for the goose is good for the gander.

Who: Sandy and you!
What: Cassandra Marko Vs. The Geese of doom.
Where: The peat bog in the Southern end of the arena.
When: Sunday morning.
Warnings: Graphic Violence towards geese and children.

By the end of her first week, Sandy was warm, but hungry.

With Phil's extra jacket on over her own a shiny new knife from the sponsors Sandy was stalking along the edge of the pond, boots sinking into the mud with each step. This was a terrible place to hunt if she needed to run but perhaps the sticky ground would work in her favor?

The knife had come with a note with a single word on it. One that rang in her head as she tried to puzzle out it's meaning while she stalked as quietly as she could through the morning mist.

"Inquisition."

What did it mean? For all the learning Sandy had done since arriving here and for her vocabulary being advanced for her age she couldn't remember hearing a word like that in context.

Back in the moment her eyes settled upon what she hoped would be her next meal. A flock of geese were drifting lazily on the water but one had nested in the mud of the shore and she was fairly sure if she got close enough she could kill it, pluck it and make a fire to eat it provided she found enough dry wood.

Closer and closer she crept, body tight and face scrunched up in an eternal wince as she heard her boots squelching in the mud. Maybe geese were dumb? Maybe they were heavy sleepers?

Once she was no more then five feet away the bird's eye snapped open and it watched her.

She froze, even holding her breath till she could stand it no more and let the air out through her nose slowly.

The bird made no move.

She took another precarious step forward.

Still no move.

Another step.

It blinked and she froze once more teeth clenched so tight that it hurt her jaw.

Another step, the knife gripped so tight in her hand her knuckles were white. This was just a goose why was she so tense?!

Because she knew if she screwed this up she might go hungry.

One more step and she was close enough to try for a grab when the beast rose to it's webbed feet and let out an angry sounding honk!

Sandy was about to make her move when it was echoed by several other angry honks.

Eyes wide with a bead of sweat running down from her scalp she turned her head slowly and realized that while she had been so focused on her target the other geese had surrounded her and were approaching by land and sea. Some had their wings out like they were hoping to pen her in and keep her from running.

Sandy's eyes narrowed and she adjusted her grip. Was she really about to run from a bunch of birds?!

The original goose she had been menacing struck! Lightning fast it's head short forward and it's beak snapped at her hand leaving angry red bite marks as she yelped and jerked backwards stumbling over onto her rear and kicking up mud everywhere. Her shoe had gotten stuck in the mud and thrown her off balance!

As soon as she was on the ground the geese lunged for her honking up a storm. Sandy's world became feathers and angry beaks as she lashed out with her knife. Soon the color red joined the mix as bleeding geese stained each other with crimson and continued their ruthless assault on the girl.

"GET OFF!" She barked swinging the knife again and feeling her blade piercing a goose's neck. It's honking became garbled with the blood draining into it's throat but it continued it's attack even as she yanked the knife back out.

Plastered in mud, blood and feathers Sandy made a snap judgement. She was not about to get killed by geese. These weren't even mutant geese as far as she could tell!

Shielding her face with her arm she plowed forward, stomping on a goose in the process who's beak snapped shut on her pants so it was dragged behind her flapping it's wings to slow her down. The other birds were in hot pursuit as Sandy slipped and slid through the mud.

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It wasn't long after the commotion that Sandy would hear a familiar voice yelling at the geese to stay away from Sandy. But the yelling was guttural, as if the owner needed this outlet more than to scare the birds away. Marko had been right, sponsors had been kind to Gray but something about him had changed. He seemed lost, desperate, and...sick.

Phil grabbed Sandy tight and seized the offending bird's neck, wringing it nice and fast to avoid unnecessary suffering for either of them. "A-Are you okay?" he asked, his concerns never wavering, but his voice was broken. Something had happened after they'd split up.

"Come on...we need to find shelter."

Edited (forgot a few details!) 2015-02-01 03:29 (UTC)

Sandy let out a yelp as she was grabbed tight and only because she had recognized his voice did she not turn her knife on Phil. Instead she slashed out at another goose who was still lunging at her even as Phil finished off the original bird that had started this attack.

"Away from the water!" She managed to choke out as a feather burst from her mouth. She must have gotten it in while she was shouting at the feathered fiends.

Sandy would be dropped off as Gray led the charge back into the clearing, and due north. Both dead birds would become their dinner and probably breakfast at this rate. "Lead the way!" he called out to her as he took out the hunting knife and used the techniques Sandy had taught him.

By the time they were safe, the guard was breathing hard and leaning against the nearest tree. He was silent as he turned to see his friend, "Any wounds on you?"

Once she was on her feet and in control again she felt better about things. No offense to Phil especially with all he'd done for her but she was always more confident on her own two feet to being carried.

Breathing heavy and feeling too warm in her extra layers now she rolled up the sleeve on his jacket that she was wearing so her fingers could run along the bite marks on her face. A bit of blood and a lot of stinging but she'd live.

"Nothing that needs stitching I-"

But her reassuring was cut off as a silver orb fell from the sky attached to a parachute. The cracking of branches drew her gaze upwards where the item had been caught in the trees.

"Sponsor gift." She pointed at the dangling prize too high up to reach without climbing one of the thin branched trees.

"Maybe they like how we handled those monster birds." She muttered not sounding too convinced.

"Maybe, maybe they want to liven up the party with favors," Gray breathed, hoping it was something worth their while and danger. He smiled as he saw his old jacket serving its' purpose and keeping Sandy warm. He had stolen Dandy's jacket to make up for his own, the man wasn't going to use it anyways.

"Not that I'm ungrateful or anything," he added to whoever it may have concerned. Surviving on rocks and scavenged meat was taking a toll on the guard's body, making him use up even more body fat as time progressed. "I think we can climb it..."

"Maybe give me a boost?" She offered hoping that between the two of them they could reach a branch sturdy enough to support her while she swiped at the parachute with her knife.

She shrugged off her backpack to lessen the weight, knowing that Phil wouldn't try to steal it out from under her. He had earned her trust and to be entirely honest she owed him.

"Sure thing kiddo," Her trust would be validated, as he merely set the valuable asset aside and gave Sandy a boost, muttering "Alley-oop" as soon as she was secure. He also kept an eye out for any incoming Tributes that could try to attack them.

"Tell me you've been having better luck than I have," he tried to sound relaxed as he did before, back at the training center.

The extra height was almost enough. Stretching out her arms she felt her fingertips brush the soft metal container that she knew contained some prize or treat for her. A reckless swipe and she left Phil's shoulders hanging for a moment before the branches gave way and she dragged the container and the parachute crashing to the ground.

"I'm OK." she immediately reported sitting up with a parachute on her head. Yanking it off with an embarrassed blush she focused on opening the orb.

Inside was a single First Aid kit and a note which she picked up and read silently before rolling her eyes and showing it to Phil.

Plainly the note read "Helping!!! <3 Gary"

"This guy feels guilty because I yelled at him for almost getting me killed in the special kids arena." She explained with half a smirk.

"Or maybe he likes you," the former guard poked fun at that, almost forgetting what had him so distraught. "What death was that? The squirt guns?"

He rubbed his face, to will away any emotion that wasn't the mask and settled against the tree, "At least we'll eat good for the next two days if those hellbirds are any help" He tilted at their two dead geese with hope for a fire or something to cook them. Part of him wanted to ask if Sandy had kept the gin she'd promised when they ran into each other earlier in the week. But something about the atmosphere started to change, and it wasn't just the incoming sponsor gifts that rained all over the Arena.

"Know anywhere safe?"

She twisted her face into a silent objection at the suggestion though from her previous conversation with Gary she was almost positive he liked her. At least enough to feel bad for what he'd done. He was still in overwhelming amounts of denial though and that rubbed her the wrong way.

Rolling up the parachute into the container and putting all three items in her backpack if Phil's eyes are sharp he might see the Gin bottle still in there and at least half full.

She actually smiled when he pointed out they now had food to eat and the suggestion alone made her stomach growl rudely while he was clearly focused on other more pressing issues.

"I've been sleeping in some bushes but I think there's some caves back that way." She pointed in the direction they'd come from and then slightly to the side so it wasn't aiming them directly at the bogs and the surviving geese.

"Some people have tents but I didn't wanna ask if I could share." It was too early to be so reckless.

"Bambi and his mother would disagree with you."

The caves sounded nice in theory and Phil was about to suggest it until he had spotted deer carcasses that were mauled to hell and back. And the bodies at the pond, those were important too. His kindness never dulled as he offered her his tent. Sure it was bloody, dirty and wet, but it was still usable. Besides, his will to fight had been drained somewhat.

"Will this help? We'll take turns keeping watch."

Focus, Gray, he thought to himself, Focus and you'll live. But Mott's words clung to him like the stench of bleach and death he wanted to forget.

His producing a tent was almost as encouraging as goose for dinner...almost. Her eyebrows arched at the state of it.

"Um...who's blood?" She asked tentatively, not because she was scared that Phil might of killed someone but more because she wanted to be sure there wasn't some wounded and pissed off tribute waiting for Phil to let his guard down.

"Dead. He's dead," Phil stated tensely, every last drop draining from his face as he remembered. "Bloodloss. N-Not coming back."

His mind tried to block the incoming flood of events that came about after he found and let Dandy die. Eyes widen and blank, hands shaking, Phil tried to center himself as he did back at Fazbears.

Sandy watched him carefully as he took his moment and took the bottle back out offering it to him. Yes it was an unhealthy coping mechanism but who was she to deny someone something unhealthy? Sure she would try to talk Gary out of his overwhelming denial but what harm could this do.

Opting not to press him for details on top of it, she'd find out soon enough.

"This is a little too open but we can set up the tent deeper in the trees. Maybe dig a hole, put the tent in it and then cover it with branches and stuff." The fire they'd need to cook the goose would be a dead giveaway but as long as they were on their guard they might survive the night.

The bottle would be taken hesitantly, Gray knew this wasn't the best way to cope. But he needed to forget just for a moment that he was here because he'd failed those kids. That he was just as bad as the murderer he spent ten years tracking down. He took a small drink and coughed a little, the burning sensation was stronger than what he was used to.

"Holy crap," he let out in a croak, "I forgot how strong this stuff is." He'd hold off drinking any more until he got to it. "Let's get burying, shall we?" His task was at hand: make sure he didn't fail in protecting his friends as he did in the past. "S-Sorry about this." He was lucky the panic attack happened before, and while there was one already brewing, he had to focus.

"Yeah no problem." She answered quickly and began digging using her knife to cut grooves into the stiff earth so her gloved fingers could pull at it. These were all things she'd learned in the training center and as much as she hated to thank a Capitol employee for anything...she owed the staff more then a couple.

After a few minutes of working she spoke up again.

"Whatever you did, it's OK. I know you're a good guy even if you're not sure."

It was a risky gambit but Sandy was very driven by her guts when it came to helping people. Her brain was reserved for protecting herself but her heart was always in it for people who had shown her kindness.

The words fell onto grateful ears as Phil took out the hunting knife he'd gotten from the sponsors. He'd kept it a secret because he didn't want Sandy to suspect he'd killed someone. He showed it to her, to keep that trust going, "You were right about the sponsors."

While they worked, he huffed out, "I tried to save him, I did everything I remembered, but he was too gone for me to help," he said as vague as possible. The blade went as far as it could but the man pushed it further. "I let him die but...it wasn't that."

Knowing that he was armed was a comfort. Knowing that the worst he had done was watch a man die.

"If that's the worst you've got you've got aways to go to catch up to me." It was almost funny really that he was so troubled by just watching someone die. Then Sandy realized with a sick twist to her stomach that normal people would be horrified by that sort of thing and she was just messed up.

The hole was coming along nicely but it would take them some time without proper digging tools. Thankfully the ground was soft and the harder parts could be stabbed at. The cold wet soil was soaking through her cloves and she knew she'd have to dry them off over the fire later.

"That's unfortunate to think, Sandy," Phil remarked as he tried to make due with everything they had before his hands couldn't finish the job. He was shaken but his sarcasm was still present. "I've never let anyone die on my watch...all I did was dispose of their bodies, clean up the scene, put the little birthday hats on the table, and write lies down so when the inevitable missing person report file was submitted, my employers were free of responsibility."

The Capitol knew that, might as well have someone he trusted know about it too. It was a twisted routine he was forced into for a long time.

That was enough to get her to slow in her digging for a moment. Her face twisted up in confusion.

"Why would you do that though?" She didn't sound concerned, mostly perplexed. "Did the job pay really well or something? Were they threatening you?" It's not as though covering up a crime was worse then actually doing the crime but there had to be some reason he'd put his neck out for his employers like that.

"The pay was minimum wage, barely enough to survive the month. I stayed because for two reasons: to investigate and to keep...something at bay." He stopped working enough to catch his breath and feel around the soil for any rocks that kept their progress.

"Do you want the long story or the short one?" Phil asked before he continued. He could spare her details of the grisly murders and how guards subsequently died.

She had to admit even knowing that the end result was going to be tragic...she was getting more and more curious each time he alluded to things.

"Might as well go long. It's not like there's anything good on TV." She offered a weak chuckle at her own lame joke. The funny part was they were on hidden camera so somewhere she actually was on TV saying that and the audience would probably get a chuckle out of it if the gamemakers didn't edit this scene out.

Phil took a deep breath and, while he plucked the feathers off the geese to carve them up, began to tell his story from when he was a kid and going into Fredbear's Family Diner, to getting his first job there as a waiter. He stopped for a moment, and put the knife to the side the moment he recalled the first murder.

"Terry and I were taking a break out back, when he spotted a little hand in the dumpster. That poor boy...he was mangled and blue from what happened to him. Tossed aside like a broken doll, he was covered in trash and blood. When I saw the mother, she just knew and screamed. I held her back when the crime scene people carried her son away, and told her she couldn't save him. I-I couldn't go to work for three days, especially near that dumpster."

He didn't care how the gamemakers portrayed him as, at least someone had to know the truth. Gray let every bit of remorse flow out of him when he talked about the first relaunch of Freddy Fazbear's, sparing no details about the following ten missing children and Bite of '87. He also began to talk about the hauntings, the hallucinations, everything.

"Jeremy lost his frontal lobe because I thought he could manage being out there. It was a normal birthday party and we needed all hands on deck. I took the night shift after him...and survived five years. Every waking minute I had, I spent it tracking down the sadistic monster who used that place as a slaughtering ground. I wanted to break his legs and leave him to the bots' mercy."

By the time he'd finished his story Sandy had the tent set up in the small pit they'd dug and had alot of it covered in branches and leaves. Not a bad job considering it was something she'd only ever practiced in the training center.

It was strange how having something to do with her hands kept her focus on his story. She felt her gut twist at the idea of someone she liked having to live with that sort of horror, but it didn't completely stun her the way it might have once.

Sensing he had come to the end she moved closer slowly. "Would um...would a hug help?"

The answer was no of course it wouldn't. Even if they weren't stuck in an arena of murder and death he needed a therapist. But Sandy's options were limited so she went with hug.

Phil nodded and sighed out, giving Sandy an earnest smile. "It would," he spoke, blood soaked hands rubbing his face and staining it for a bit. It looked eerily like his corpse stuffed into a bot had the Capitol not intervened on him.

Therapy would do wonders on Phillip but he outright refused it to focus on the pizzeria then, and now the Hunger Games.

"I lost it when...Dandy compared me to him. That I was guilty of something akin to murder. Yes, I am...of hiding bodies, of obstructing justice and being unable to do anything about the other guards."

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