thearena | [open] Wood and stone will fall away

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[open] Wood and stone will fall away

Who| Phil Gray and open!
What| Week 2 Catchall with various prompts
Where| Everywhere except the Castle (ha ha no)
When| During Week 2
Warnings/Notes| None at the moment!

A. The Village

Getting Linden's parachute was a godsend, as Phillip unwrapped the package and read the note. He chuckled a little at the "noble angle" snipe, it sure didn't feel like that. That would imply that Gray had done more to prevent the murders instead of just covering them up. Well, better late than never, the former guard sighed out and stuffed what he could into his makeshift bag. He'd seen the mess that comes from getting too close to powered Tributes, a legitimate threat this time around, and he had turned into old instincts to keep off the beaten path. Survived this long to get blasted? No thanks.

But none of that, nor the temporary beauty that came with every sunset gave the Phone Guy any comfort that this was anything but the death match he knew and resigned himself to. Nowhere was this more evident in the way tried to sneak into the Village. He'd heard inklings about ghosts roaming the Castle and catacombs at night...and just maybe...

"No, I won't find them here," Phil assured himself as he made a quick lasso for any emergencies. Who "they" were was known to a select few but for being merely memories, they sure weighed a lot in his mind.

Focus on finding Clementine and Sandy, make sure they're safe, figure out the rest later. Raiding caches was distasteful, yes, but if the Capitol wants to see how far Phillip Gray could go to meet those goals, then he'll do his best to give them a show.

B. The Village Part Deux For Firo

If Gray was good at something, it was keeping a level head through stressful situations, and raiding had to be listed as one of those sorts. But keeping the rats at bay just reminded him of the dumpsters out back from Freddy's. The stink was just as bad anyways but not too unfamiliar. Either way, there was food here and nothing a little brush of the hand couldn't fix so he could store it away. By now though, Phil had no issue with keeping the small folding knife somewhere close, ready to defend himself.

Prochainezo said he was going to help me, he thought as he bit into a piece of the rations he had for himself. The other? Stored away for any young or hungry Tribute he ran into that wouldn't try to kill him. What? It might be his second Arena but he's not about to give up being who he is for the bloodshed.

Even if it kills him.

"Firo?" Phil peeked into an adjacent building, hoping Firo wasn't playing him after all this time.

C. Wild Card! Pick whatever you'd like to do!

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Firo shakes his head slightly, "Not in for a treat either way." He'd still take prison over death, having been through both. But he can't deny that they also both kind of suck--and he imagines it's even worse for a guy who's known as a child murderer.

He paused, realizing he was prying an awful lot. Even though it was none of his business, there were some things he really wanted to know. "He volunteer to be your fall guy?"

And Firo would get a shake of the head, "Guy who was a witness, had a record, boss planted some evidence and had him take the fall. Police were all too eager to get someone arrested and, well past offenders don't have the best track record."

Old wounds were bleeding and for everyone in the Capitol to enjoy and gossip, but they could all see how much it weighed on Phillip to know all this and be in so deep that he had to play along, hope for the best and survive. And he did his damnedest to keep a respectful and dare he say it optimistic outlook about it.

"I'm here now...all I can do is make up for it, survive as long as I can a-and...make sure the kids here all survive."

Firo snorted. "Don't need to tell me that." On past offenders being treated more harshly, he meant. Firo supposed he couldn't complain when he tended to do so well, but police attention could just get so damn annoying sometimes.

Cry me a river, Firo.

Reflecting on all Phil had just said, Firo supposed he couldn't judge when his own Family had done similar things. By way of apology, he nodded again and said, "Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to ask so many questions."

"It's good they've got someone lookin' out for them. The kids, I mean. This Arena stuff... It kinda reminds me of things back home and nobody would look after them there."

Phillip knew there wasn't any ill intent in Firo's questions but bringing back old memories have the effect of letting everything he buried and wearing it as a second, unwanted skin. There was nothing like it, guilt that never really let go, never letting the Phone Guy live a normal life, "It's o-okay, you wanted the truth."

But Gray needed a moment to recover, his tension had to dissipate slowly, and he didn't want to snap at his friend. Or anyone. No one here was guilty of what happened at Freddy's...except him.

He smiled at Phil's assurance. "Can't blame a guy for bein' curious, right? ...Uh, but you can tell me if you ever don't wanna talk about something. I can be good at keepin' my mouth shut. It's a job requirement."

He looked from Phil to the walls looming before them, trying to find an entrance creepy-looking enough to be the entrance to the catacombs.

Gray shook his head and let his friend speak, "No need for that sorta formality in that aspect. No more secrets all right?"

Before he spoke up, they found themselves in a structure Phillip had been spying. An imposing, unnerving entrance, to which he quipped, "If that's not the entrance to the catacombs, I'm a monkey's uncle."

Firo nodded. "No secrets."

Though he hadn't expected to be unnerved at the mere sight of the door, Firo found his heart rate quickening. "Excitin'. Can't wait to see what the rest of it looks like."

He smiled jokingly as he looked over his shoulder. "If I scream, that's your cue to turn tail and run, okay?"

With that, he stepped forward to the entrance and slipped in.

"Don't think I won't..." Phillip agreed, no way was he dealing with ghosts again and not do what he should've done five years ago. From the getgo, Gray had a chill running down his spine, damp walls that smelled of putrefaction. But regardless of those very sane fears, the hall presented no dangers as of yet.

Keeping his knife out, he trailed behind his friend until the outside light faded away and only Firo's beacon lit the hall, if faintly. Phil wanted to ask what was Firo's power, but that would be rude. A noise got him out of those thoughts, "There's something in here."

At least the beacon was good for something.

"Oh, good. Maybe it's a nice person who'll show us a safe place to hide all this."

His sarcasm was thick enough to choke on. He backed up to be closer to Phil, ready to try to shield him if anything attacked.

Phillip was delighted to see some of his lessons stick with the mobster but even less so with the body language. The slow descent may have made him jumpier than what Firo's used to but this? This was him on a good night back at work.

Except the slipping on the landing, that was not part of his usual thing, okay?

"Shit, ow," Gray hissed under his breath and heard the clatter of his knife on the floor, "Really?" The clicking noise of metal against rock stopped just beyond the reach of the light. The level of trust the Phone Guy had on Firo was enough for him to ask, "Can you go look for that while I set this up?"

And hell, he turned his back to the competition looking for his weapon while he set up the cache.

Firo jumped when Phil fell, half expecting it to be the sign of a sudden attack or something.

He shook his head when he realized the cause, trying to disguise that he was startled by pretending to be irritated. "You drop your weapon at a time like this?"

Nonetheless, Firo nodded his head and quickly went to hunt for the knife. He slowly felt along the floor, pausing only to call back to Phil. "You really trust me this much, huh? Or do you have another knife hidden on you?"

He laughed, honestly seeing all that as a joke even though it was obviously in pretty poor taste.

"Yes I trust you that damn much," Gray growled under his breath as he got back on his feet and slipped the small bag into a nearby helmet, to keep it away from any vermin's reach, "And even if I did, I don't doubt for a second you'd kill me on the spot." And that was the Phone Guy's best and worst trait: once he trusted you, his loyalty was unyielding. It was this trust that let the serial killer run around free while his love for the animatronics and the company covered the damages.

But something about this place reminded Phil of the backroom at Freddy's, prompting him to peek around. "When I said death dungeon...I was kidding." He'd have to add torture dungeon too, with the various devices. "W-We, uh, we should go."

Firo was almost glad they could hardly see each other in the darkness, because that made him pause. "...Thank you."

Phil was a funny guy, it struck him. Not too many people figured out Firo was a gangster as quickly as Phil had, and not too many people would trust someone like him so readily.

"I'm guessin' there are tons of people who've already lectured you about trusting people? But you don't have to worry about me, I'll swear to that."

"Just a minute... Got it!" He held the knife triumphantly aloft, only the beacon above him making it visible through the gloom.

"Oh, yeah at least a baker's dozen, but unlike the last person I trusted with a pointy object, I know I won't regret it and it won't get another kid killed," Phil's bluntness served a purpose; he was letting Firo know that he was on a level above the serial killer, that he was different. "And likewise."

Carefully, he raised his hand up to the knife and gently tugged it back into his belt. "Thanks, I can be a klutz on the worst of places. We good on headed out?"

"Right on both counts." If Firo's word meant anything, though it seemed Phil wouldn't be swayed anyway. As encouraging as it was to hear these things, well... Emotions weren't Firo's strong suit, so he looked off into the darkness and just smiled a little instead of saying anything more.

He nodded. "I think so. They'll be able to find it all right here?"

"If someone actually makes it this far or needs to stay in here for any reason, this will help them out," Gray stated as he let Firo take the lead and light the way out. "Every little bit helps and, uh, I know that it's like to be stranded in the dark."

He added to the statement, "Don't take it the wrong way but, I'm glad you're braver than I would be. And thanks, for not...well, not bailing when I told you the truth." He really appreciated that bit of friendship Prochainezo offered.

"Can't imagine that was fun... But, uh, maybe these people'll get luckier, huh?" If that was any comfort at all.

Firo knew he should probably thank him for that. But instead he just shrugged and looked away, giving his usual answer. "I'm just stupid." Too stupid to be afraid and too stupid to leave someone he considered a friend.

"If being loyal is being stupid, then I'm right there with you in the dumbass train."

Phil stated that as they came out the way they arrived, his tone firm and jovial as it was when he was the manager. There was a lot to be said when he could trust relative strangers so deeply, that he could roll with the punches.

"One of them will. Maybe even you," Gray added with hope, "A Mobster Crowning even."

"Hey, the more the merrier." Loyalty wasn't stupid, of course, and Firo knew that. But he was stupid and--though he didn't realize it--he tried to use that in his favor when getting people to trust him.

Firo shuddered, grimacing in distaste. "God. I'd hate to see what they'd do for that."

Firo had heard more than he liked about what kind of place the Capitol thought he came from and what kind of person it was. None of it was complimentary.

Gray remembered what Linden told him in Tony Stark’s Crowning and seeing Firo’s reaction gave those words weight, “Remember that we’re the strange ones here, they want to experience a water-down version of your life…and we should be honored for it.” He hoped his mobster friend caught the implicit irony of what he said: They send us to die for their entertainment and then celebrate our lives as if it were theirs.

Making their way out of the catacombs was considerably easier than it was coming in, each step seemed familiar in some way. The sun was still up when the pair came out, giving Phil some much needed peace of mind. There were so many images of death and rot he could take before a wave of workplace horrors took root in his mind.

“All ribbing aside…Are you going to be okay? Do you have someone to fall back on?”

He was right, of course. Firo looked away, unable to keep the disgust off of his face just at that thought. The Capitol had no right to treat their lives like some cheap radio program... but here they were.

"I've got me and that's all I need." He smiled as he said it, buoyed by bravado. He did have other friends in the Arena, but he didn't want to rely on them, especially not with this beacon above him. "You're gonna be okay, yeah?"

Phillip gave a somewhat confident nod and a salute to his friend before offering his hand as a goodbye shake, "Here's hoping we see each other on the flipside, Prochainezo. Maybe one of us will be the next Victor, who knows?" If anything, the Phone Guy knew that if he couldn't make it, he'd help the others reach that farther. Or give them a quick and painless death and return to the Capitol.

"Who knows."

Firo's hopes weren't high... but he dared to hope just for a little bit that maybe he'd be seeing one of his friend Crowned in the next several weeks. Hope and good wishes were free, right?

He returned the handshake and even managed a smile. "Good luck out there."

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[open] Wood and stone will fall away

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