Mini Arena 2

[etcircenses]

Tributes are woken early, and the hovercraft ride is a long one. Not the longest some have experienced, but they are clearly going far.

25 - 24 - 23

They land on the deck of the boat, and are ushered underneath, to the lower levels, quickly. Their stylists go from cabin to cabin, decking them out in over the top finery, before loading them into the pods installed into the corners of the rooms.

20 - 19 - 18 - 17 - 16

The platforms lift them up, and they are all ringed around a grand buffet table, loaded with a grand feast looking ready to sag down from the weight. Among the food are supplies, plenty of them, all for the taking.

11- 10 - 9 - 8

They've all been warned, don't step off your pedestal early. They have also been warned to put on a good show. That's all this is about, a good show. None of them have been told that there can be multiple winners this time around.

5 - 4

3

2

The sound of the gong plays crystal clear across the opening. The games have begun.

Comments

Cornucopia+Explosion

[etcircenses]

As soon as the first Tribute touches the cornucopia, there is huge blast that rocks the boat to the side, tilting the ground at a severe angle, before settling back down to normal.

The whole ship is rocked, chandelier crashing and the furniture tilting and sliding. More than a small amount of the tables swag slips off and towards to side of the ship that tips down.

When the ship resettles, the lights flicker, before going out in the dining room. Water can be heard near by.

Better get moving.

Sugar we're goin' down.

[etcircenses]

The ships sinks straight down for several hours, the lower levels (including the dining room) filling up slow and steady.

Unfortunately, at some point the weight becomes to much. The stern starts to sink down, sending the bow up, slowly, as it fills faster than the rest.

Re: Cornucopia+Explosion

[shenunigans]

[The panic that Dave feels from the moment they're ushered onto hovercrafts is overwhelming. He does his best not to show it, keeping his expressions in check even as his Stylist pockets his shades in an attempt to make him look more sophisticated. He's glancing around, looking for people he recognises amongst the tributes. He doesn't see Terezi, Rose or Elsa but.. Is that Bro in a yellow suit? Gross. The amusement is barely enough to distract him as his fists clench and the gong sounds.

His first thoughts are up. Go up, get as far away from the water as you can. The supplies are too tempting not to dash through and at least grab something though, right? He's swinging past the table to put his hands on whatever he can and almost stumbling onto his ass when something explodes. His red eyes dart around hopelessly, trying to figure out if that was somehow his fault. The guilt comes quickly, but the sound of water has him in fight or flight mode and he's moving up and out as fast as he can.

If he bumps into someone on the way, he might be grabbing them by the wrist and dragging them along with him just in case he needs a human lifeboat.]

rebelliously tags both

[shenunigans]

[Some hours later, Dave finds himself descended further downward rather than upward. As it happens, his guilt from running away so fast lead him back to look for people.

Bad move. Yep. The deeper he goes, the more the water is rising and eventually he's finding himself further into the point of you're fucked. He's trying his best to climb through using tables and corners to pull himself along, but every so often he'll find himself stuck in a place he can't swim out of.

He needs to suck up his pride eventually, hoping that a more competent swimmer will hear him talking to himself rather than attracting danger with a call of help.]

This is a stupendous fucking way to go, Strider. At least you look sharp, huh? Like a god damn eggplant in a bow tie. Shit man, at least it's darker down here. [His voice wobbles in frustration the more he tries to work up the nerve to swim out of trouble.] Now might be a bad time to suggest that you can't swim, just saying. Could have nipped that one in the bud ages ago.

[rediscover]

Anna's learned enough in her short time in the Capitol to know that while the Cornucopia is dangerous, it can also make or break you when it comes to survival. And even though this isn't her first time in an arena, she's definitely nervous while her stylist preps her, dressing her in an exquisite blue gown that is not at all easy to move in, her hair swept upward into an elaborate crown of curls atop her head. And before she knows it, the nausea is rising in her stomach as she stands atop her pedestal, looking anxiously for a familiar face, and it's with a large measure of relief that she realizes she doesn't see Elsa anywhere.

And when the countdown ends, she follows her instincts and goes for the Cornucopia. She's not the first to reach it by any means, but when the blast rocks the ship, Anna trips and falls straight into the table, shrieking as she scrabbles for footing. She grabs for something cushy, but she doesn't realize until she's stumbling away so she can make for the upper decks of the ship that it's a life vest; she's too busy wondering if this is the same panic her parents felt when their ship was drowning.

This isn't going to be a good Arena for her.

[rediscover]

Anna's been trying to keep to the upper decks, but eventually a fear that she'll be pushed overboard has her creeping back downward, thinking that maybe she can figure out a place to hide that isn't quite so out in the open. But when she gets back below decks she quickly realizes that this is a bad plan. Soon enough, her beautiful gown is soaked, which makes it about half as easy to walk in, and even with the life vest strapped around her torso she finds that it's dragging her down once she starts wading through the water.

And then she hears a familiar voice muttering from a corner, and through the flickering, dimming lights Anna makes out the figure of Dave, looking weirdly dashing in that shockingly-colored tux.

"Dave," she gasps, "Dave!" It's so good to see a familiar face, but she has to remind herself to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention as she wades toward him.

[shenunigans]

Dave feels immense amounts of sympathy for the girls in big gowns. Wearing a tux underwater is heavy and unpleasant, but there's no train or skirts to weigh him down at least. Unfortunately, he doesn't really have time to make scathing commentary on the patriarchy, just on himself.

When he hears Anna, there's a mix of relief and dread in his gut. He's happy she's alive though he isn't happy to see her. He doesn't just owe it to Elsa to take care of her, though he's sure he wouldn't have lasted so long in the Arena without her help, he likes Anna in her own right as her own person and she's worth helping. It's just.. Well. Of all the Arenas in which he could feel helpful? This isn't one of them.

"Eyyyy, princess." He turns as best he can to look at her, he's clinging as best he can to a table that seems more intent on submerging than floating. "What's up?" That's as close as he gets to saying hello I was genuinely concerned about you please inform me as to how you're faring.

[futilecycle]

Sigma wears his tuxedo like a second skin. His Zero persona is hardly difficult to assume here, as their dress code for battle is no different from his coat-tailed uniform - intended to threaten while maintaining elegance, hiding doubt behind finery and flair. Internally the Doctor surges with panic: this is a scene he knows haunted the woman who shared his bed the whole of her life. He had woken her many nights from this ship, her screams and whimpers ever fresh in his memory, how she would shudder in a cold sweat as if she had been pulled from the sea.

She may still be alive on terra firma, and while he cannot know if she can see this, he only hopes his thoughts might reach her still, esper that she was. A 'Gamemaker' forced her here, as well - an occupation that had soon become his. Biding time on his pedestal, he eyes the chandelier in the centre of the room and prays he has found a camera. The gong is near its sounding, there is no time to search with his cybernetic eye. His calm expression cracks with empathy and regret: Diana. I am so sorry.

The gong heralds the start of the match and Sigma is off towards the Cornucopia with the intention of following his lover's lead - he will not drown here.

Open to all, general wandering.

[dotsanddashes]

Oh, this was just perfect.

Rosalind wasn't exactly enchanted when she was loaded onto this ship. She sat unimpressed when she was dolled up, head lifted in defiance as her hair was wound up, her neck was trimmed with a fancy necklace, her arms were sheathed in long gloves. None of this mattered. It was all stupid and frustrating and she was quickly growing impatient being trapped in this universe. Briefly, she regarded herself in the mirror before she was ushered into the chute.

She was beautiful. A vision in royal purple, the dress displaying the figure usually disguised by the clothes she wore.

She didn't care.

When she was raised onto the boat, she glared at it all, only going through the motions of stepping out into the dining room, listless and bitter. Then there was the explosion, the pitch. She fell over, then pulled herself up, eyes narrowed. A sinking ship. Oh, good. Just great.

Thinking of Rapture, she darted off through the ship, finding a candlestick to lash a steak knife to as a makeshift weapon.

At least there weren't any Splicers, she thought, as she explored the now-sinking vessel. She was bound to run into a Tribute sooner or later - if they didn't want to be allies, she wasn't about to be kind.

[aboveangrybees]

[Dread is a good word for how Steve's feeling right about now, as he's dressed to the nines and lifted into a dinning room. It didn't start as dread, more concern, but this is a boat, which means limited space that can only grow smaller if they go that route. And really, he can't see why they'd pass up the chance.

His eyes sweep over everyone as they wait. The relief he feels at seeing he's the only Avenger lasts for only a split second before he sees Charles. And Carlos. Even Dave and Albert. Then Clementine. The choice is made as soon as he sees her: get supplies, get Clem, and get above deck fast.

The gong is still reverberating around the room when Steve is off his pedestal and sprinting for the table, his sight never straying from Clementine for long enough to lose her in the crowd (thank god for yellow). He's reaching for something when he's forced to grab the lip of the table to keep from being thrown by the explosion. Things are moving faster than he anticipated, so before the boat even settles in it's rocking, Steve is vaulting over the table and grabbing what he can. Anything that looks useful.

He looks to where he last saw her, but the lights flicker out before he reaches her.]

[seestheman]

This is honestly the last set-up for an arena that Clara would have imagined. Well, more like one of the last, but the point stands that this is not what she was expecting. From the fact that they're on a ship, there are two ways she's assuming this is going to go: either the ship's going to sink or they're going to be stuck on an otherwise empty ship until only one of them's left standing. Neither of these ideas really sit well with her.

Honestly, the only pieces of relief that she can draw from this mess once they're standing around the Cornucopia is that A) there's no sign of those spiders from the last Arena and B) Alex isn't here. Dave, Dr. Norton, a handful of her district mates, and some other people who she had met before are, but not Alex.

As soon as she hears the sound of the gong, she dashes for the table, trying to make sure the full skirt of her black dress doesn't get in the way. (At least she has a little experiencing running in heels from chasing after David.) She's almost at the table when everything goes to hell. She stumbles a little bit and almost falls, managing to mostly regain her bearings in the dark so she can grab something on the table so she doesn't have to go completely empty handed.

Using all her effort, she starts running up, completely unsure where it'll lead her, but knowing that it has to be better than staying here.

[silberfuchs]

[Similarly dressed to kill (pun possibly intended), Albert's expression registers nothing more than cool calculation. Before the gong, he manages to lock eyes with Jet, who for once isn't too far away. The blond seems to be stripping, down to his vest at least, which doesn't make sense to Albert as he'd prefer to keep his pockets. He does loosen his tie though, and communicate to his partner through brief gestures to grab supplies and run. He intends to do the same.

Then the signal sounds and he's off like a shot, dress shoes pounding on the polished wood floor and sending him sliding into the table as the damn shoes have no traction. He barely even looks around, grabbing what's nearby instead when no one immediately comes at him. He's got two water bottles in his pockets and a third in hand when he finally looks up and spots Steve, meeting his gaze for a moment, contemplating an alliance. It had worked well in the last arena...

And then the explosion hits, almost sending the German to his knees, and annoyance more than anything invades Albert's features. He looks up again and Steve is already moving, clearing the table and heading for where Albert recalls seeing a young girl. Anyone else and he might think they're out for an easier kill, but knowing Steve it's to help her.

He's got his own people to save.

Still.

Albert's piercing whistle cuts through the groans of the ship and the sounds of fighting and he makes sure Steve sees him before he sends the water bottle in an easy arc, hoping that the flickering lights don't throw off his aim. Either way, surrounded by sea water as he suspects they are from the vague smell of brine, they'll need it. Then he's off to meet up with Jet, having spent too much time at the table already.

At least, that's the plan before the lights give out completely.]

[metalicarus]

Between the light swaying beneath their feet and the fancy dress, it was pretty easy to figure out the motif. The minute he was up on that platform and waiting for the countdown to finish, he was stripping the jacket off and tossing it far behind him before working on unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Probably not the look his stylist was going for, but oh well.

As soon as he was set, he looked around to the others there. A lot of familiar faces, but his eyes found the one face that mattered most and settled there. Albert nodded towards Cecil, indicating where he was going and then nodded towards Jet to say where the New Yorker should go and Jet nodded in response. They might not have their brainwave transmitters anymore, but they didn't need them.

Once the gong rang, he bolted and reached for some of the supplies, but an explosion shook the ship and sent the blond to his knees. He was up in seconds and gathered a knife, a rope, and--after some searching--a small oxygen tank. He'd seen Titanic, he knew where this was headed.

The minute he had his supplies, he moved out of the way of the table and paused a few precious seconds to think over his options. Up. He should head up.

Re: Cornucopia+Explosion

[carnagecarnival]

There was a reason he trained with fear. A reason that, when water was around, he'd submerge himself and force himself under. Make himself focus and think through where there can be no breath. Being able to feel fear, through the holy chuckle voodoo, didn't make him immune to it. Being made of fear, didn't make him numb. He had to learn as how to be that way.

And he knows, immediately, when he's brought here-- so soon after the last arena-- what exactly is about to up and go down. Way down to depths deep. And he is grateful he trained because he's barely resisting making a scramble who the fuck knows where as they dress him. His palms are already bleeding and dripping indigo where his claws are sunk in and the stylists tut that he's getting all the wrong color on his nonsensical orange.

Every instinct is screaming, every learned habit. Inidigos aren't supposed to go in the water, they're supposed to stay on the shores and wait there. They're not supposed to go on boats, they shouldn't even be near them, that was for seadwellers and pan-crazed lunatics a.k.a gamblignants. The sea is not for him, he knows that dammit, he learned so long ago, he knows.

But do these people give a squeakbeasts ass about what is right and true and all as well as being law? Of course not.

He keeps his face firm as he can make it, teeth grinding. He will not let his body betray him. He runs when the countdown finishes, and that eases, being able to do something instinctive in the midst of all this, while still conducive to survival. He reaches, but the boom goes off before he's even touched a thing. There's a split second where, across his face, panic can be seen. Then it's gone again.

Goggles he won't need, he's close enough to seadweller that his eyes can work for the underwater sight, the wetsuit ain't of no use. He grabs the knife, sticks it in the suit coat. He grabs some chains, slinging them around his shoulder, a rope too why they fuck not, he can use it to tie... what the fuck is that? A strange vest, a tank of something. He hasn't the faintest idea what those can be used for. His hands hover over them as he wars with grabbing them anyway and making a run for it now because he can hear the water rushing and rising to swallow him.

[aboveangrybees]

[If he hadn't spotted Albert for a second at the table, he might not have paid the whistle much attention, but he had seen the man, even met his gaze. So, Steve turns towards the source, making eye contact with Albert before the man tosses the water bottle at him, which he catches with ease, even in the struggling light.

Before either of them turn away, he nods his thanks and solidarity. Perhaps after this, he'll thank him properly, but right now they both seem to have different ways to go.

He wishes the man the best as he turns to find Clementine as the lights fail.]

Siroc: Open

[notdavinci]

[Siroc, rather uncomfortable in the modern excuse for dressing up, but looking decent enough in the colors, with his hair actually properly done with gel for once, instead of falling every which way, and into his eyes, had been going in the general flow of direction with everyone else when it came to the cornucopia, but now, given the explosion, things are requiring a rather different sort of plan and technique.

For now, flopping onto his stomach and holding onto a piece of wall has managed to keep him from hitting the tilting side, but it's definitely not keeping him safe from other tributes. Last time, with no weapons to hand had been a disaster, but here, well.

One might not think of knives and forks from the buffet as being very good but he's still managed,by focusing on the task even while he wants to panic and freak out, by grabbing at those seemingly unimportant items that scattered when the explosion hit. After all, who in their right mind could think a serving fork would be of much use as a weapon? Well, Siroc apparently, who grins in the direction of what he hopes is a camera, while sliding the utensils in his waistcoat. No one else would EVER go for them, but, should he lure someone close enough, the forks could do some damage to the face, and incapacitate an enemy quickly.

As much as there are chandelier and plate shards digging into his hands and knees, Siroc's still smiling at the camera, even as he's thinking of his plan. They'll all be going to higher ground, which is the BEST idea but could make him a target, and no one likes to see a tribute sitting around safely when something the gamemakers do could force another tribute here to kill him, or send in something awful of their own invention.

So, in either case, he'd better go along, but...he didn't have to hit the highest higher ground either right now. Since there's still a rope that no one's grabbed, he's picking that up with his silverware before heading onward. If he can pull the rope taut enough, that, along with, yes, why not?, he's grabbing at the pieces of a broken chair, finding a bit of wood that should work well enough for a makeshift slingshot.

He can make his weapon later, and check the acceptability of launching the small silverware bits once he has found somewhere with middle ground that the gamemakers might be content to grant him half an hour or so in.

He's taken enough rope as well that he could probably cut and tie off in areas where people will not suspect it if they are not looking, people who then could trip right off the side of the ship. It's another idea at least, and for now, it might work, a little, right?

Re: Cornucopia+Explosion

[disciplewhomsignlessloves]

It's been a long time since she's been on a boat. The unsteadiness of it, the dip and sway, the smell of salt in the air--it reminds her of a gilded time in one breath and her inability to swim in the next. The dip and sway is familiar enough that she can feel her stance adjust but she doesn't have the time to think about what is coming in any length. Her hair is trimmed and curled into a mass on her head, a thousand tiny curls, and she is covered in more cloth and layers than she's ever worn.

Skirts brush against the edge of the pedestal as she rises, balanced on heels like spikes. The gold and green at least make her feel better but she realizes that it's not a reference to her at all. It's like that idiotic crowning. She reaches to her neck as the clock ticks down. Of course, just another extension of his praise. That creepy strange man who won.

3, 2, 1.

She darts forward, trips on those stupid spiked heels and that fluffy ridiculous dress, catches herself on a table and suddenly the world tilts. She can see two sets of horns, Nepeta, Initiate, before the lights go dark. Whatever is under her hands is precious--a water bottle and a couple rolls. She doesn't worry too much about food. She won't have time.

She can't swim and the sound of water is ominous.

Kicking off her awful shoes, she holds them spikes out and immediately feels better. A ridiculous weapons is better than no weapon at all.

Time to head upwards.

[smarterthanthem]

[She's on a boat. Clementine's never been on a boat before. At least she knows how to swim (not that it helped her last time she went into deep water) but it's been a while since she did even that!

The gong sounds and Clementine pulls up the stupid long skirts of her pretty yellow dress to run for the Cornucopia. In the last big arena she didn't try but in this one -- before she can make it the explosion hits. She falls with a cry and then pushes herself up onto her hands, cursing the shoes they made her put on and grabbing for a bunch of supplies that slide towards her across the floor.

She has time to register a lifejacket and looks up to see Steve's (Steve!) gaze directed her way before it all goes dark]

Crap!

[She hisses quietly, getting up to her feet and feelings her skinned knees, holding the things she's grabbed in her arms. The best she can do is head gingerly to where she saw him but the sound of water lets her know she can't linger long.]

Steve?!

[It's a risk to call out but what else can she do here.]

[plushaeusrumpified]

[Bro, meanwhile, is just trying to get the fuck out onto the deck. You don't want to be the guy stuck below deck when the ship starts going completely down. Nah, you want to get out and goddamn hold out until it's under and hope you find something to float on. He already feels like he's hung around too much below deck, and the fact he hasn't been able to run into Dave has massively bothered him. The two of them ought to stick the fuck together, yet here they are separated.

So when luck seems to actually be with them for once and he hears a voice, he heads towards it. It's almost eerie to hear somebody talking to themselves with the sound of the sinking ship creaking and groaning around them, and the sound of water rushing in, but Bro thinks the voice is the best damn thing he's heard all night.

It doesn't take long before he finds him, and Dave will see he's already soaked to hell and back, and it's obvious he's trying not to shiver. He's got goggles from the cornucopia strapped to his head and a knife held in his hand, and he's too on edge to hide how damn relieved he looks when he sees Dave.]

Goddamn, I've been looking for your ass for forever.

[He's already making his way over to Dave, making it look like navigating the water is the easiest damn thing. Mostly because it is- the only hard thing about it is how fucking cold it is.]

Toto, we ain't in Texas anymore and I'm freezing my fucking balls off. Why are you down here? Don't you know when the boat goes down you ain't supposed to go with it?

[shenunigans]

[There's no doubt in Dave's mind that Bro is safe, even if he had traipsed back down to take a look for him. He almost doesn't want to see him so he doesn't need to admit that he's gone this long without learning a basic life skill. Maybe he can die fast and shamefully and not have to deal with the ever present sensation that he's letting his Bro down.

Oh my god. Shut the fuck up, brain. He can't stand himself when he gets like this, but the fact is that he can't turn off that line of thinking no matter how hard he tries to deflect it. He just needs to suck it up and not look particularly pleased or annoyed to see Bro. He's just there, clinging to a door frame like it's really no big deal.]

Grapes are the sneakiest of all the fruity fuckers. [He says with a shrug, not wanting to admit he came down to find people and was perfectly dry not long ago.] In lieu of the Captain manning up and dying with his ship I figured I might give it a whirl. Who knows, I might win something.

[He nods his head forward.] Go ahead, I'll catch up.

[plushaeusrumpified]

[It's alright, Bro looks pleased enough to see Dave for the two of them. Normally he'd be looking unimpressed, but there's something about being on the equivalent of the Titanic that gets him feeling a little more expressive than normal. Of course he'd see Dave again after this, he knows that.

But there is sort of the fear in the back of his head that maybe they won't. That this'll be it and they'll be separated again. Selfishly, he wouldn't care if he himself died. Dave would be fine. Dave's already lived without him before. It's not as if that would be anything new. But you turn the tables and make Bro go on without Dave? Yeah, no. He's never been the most caring or affectionate guardian, but if Dave were gone then that would just. Really fucking suck.

He doesn't wanna think about that.]

I'd say I call dibs on grape next time, but we all know I was always the more phallic fruit of the bunch.

[Bro rolls his eyes, knowing full well that Dave's bullshitting and that he was down here for some stupid reason or another, which is why he's wading up next to Dave, half floating/half standing with how high the water is in this area. Sometimes he can get a footing, sometimes he can't. It's fucking difficult, but he can swim so it doesn't matter.]

Fuck that lie. You and I both know those water wings were never just an ironic fashion statement.

[He tugs his goggles off of his head and tosses them at Dave, figuring that if it comes down to it, he'll need them more.] I ain't leaving your skinny ass behind, so you can either hop on my back or you can make room so I can get intimately familiar with the door frame, too.

[shenunigans]

[Dave hasn't quite come to terms with how much he doesn't want to separate with Bro again. He hasn't numbed to it, even though they took Bro back away twice before he seemed to be here with some level of permanency. He doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that he's always waiting to find that Bro is gone again and that he'll probably never know when the last time is, but it's a good motivation to seize the goddamn moment.

He should have known that Bro wouldn't go without him, but the declaration is still pretty surprising. As are the goggles launching at him, shit. He scrambles to free a hand to grab them and he gives Bro a confused look before draping them over his wrist, lacking the ability to put them on his head at the moment.]

Both of those options sound really, really gay. [He sounds defiant, but it fades along with his resolve as he realises he needs to suck it up.] We're gonna look like fruit salad. [He grumbles, letting himself drop onto Bro's back and winding his arms around his neck tightly as he scrabbles to position himself better on him.] Shit- fuck- bite the pillow.

[plushaeusrumpified]

[It's good that neither of them talk about these feelings, to be honest. It would use up their emotions quota for a good, what- five years? Maybe longer. There are some things that just need to be left unsaid, and that's how much neither of them want the other gone.]

It's me, what'd you expect? No incesto. [Dave may sound defiant, but the look he's giving him suggests that Dave really ought to suck it up, so it's not surprising when he finally does.] I could make it so much gayer, but I ain't going t- fuck-

[Dave's dropping onto him and he cuts off, nearly going under before getting himself back upright. Somewhere along the lines, he has it in him to find Dave's arm and pull it around in front of his face so that he can bite him.

Worst pillow ever.

Either way, he gets himself together enough so that he can then cling to the door frame, so that Dave can get himself oriented, too.]

Put those on and then we'll go. [A beat.] You taste like ass, by the way. You needed to stay on the vine, you ain't ripe at all.

[shenunigans]

[Surprisingly, biting him really doesn't help him settle into a good and safe position on Bro's back. He very nearly topples off in surprise as he jerks his hand away, which means they're weaving tighter around Bro's face for the moment so he can be sure he won't fall.]

If you bite me again I'm going to put you out to pasture, Bro Beauty. [He exhales in frustration, getting himself to ease up and stop looking like a flailing nerd. He gives the goggles on his arm an appraising look and groans, though he is moving to put them on.]

Who wears frigging goggles with a tux? I look like I belong in a Jim Carrey movie- and not a good one either. [But he's doing it.] Alright, yip yip motherfucker.

[plushaeusrumpified]

[Jesus Christ he almost regrets biting Dave simply for the fact he feels like he'll never be able to breathe properly again after getting squeezed like that. But you won't hear him complaining because he did bring it on himself.]

Calm your tits, you didn't die or anything. [He didn't even bite that hard.

Yes he did.]

You know who wears frigging goggles with a suit? You frigging do, ya pussy. [Believe him, he doesn't think it's all that attractive either, but it is what it is. He cuts Dave a look as he puts them on, only to roll his eyes at the demand.

He'll obey, though, after making a long and deep sky bison mating call.

Bro pushes off the wall after that and starts swimming away from it, making sure to keep Dave above the water at all times.]

So, when we make it back to the Capitol, remind me to invest in swimming lessons or some shit, because this ain't cute.