Phillip Gray | Phone Guy [AU] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thearena2015-07-01 06:57 pm
voiceinthephone) wrote in thearena2015-07-01 06:57 pm
Entry tags:
[open] London Bridge is broken down
Who| Phillip Gray and Open
What| Week 5 & 6 Catchall with a closed prompt for Firo
Where| All over the Arena
When| Weeks 5 and 6
Warnings/Notes| FNAF details, Closed prompt contains death by rats,
I- Week 5
A. The Church
It didn't matter that the Capitol stripped the building of any religious connotations, for the ragged Phone Guy, it was still a place that held something special. There was signs of a struggle here but it didn't matter to the Tribute as he settled down on a pew and rested. Food was becoming scarce, and with each passing day, the rats were increasingly aggressive towards anyone who got too close to their scraps. The sudden illness knocked the wind right out of Phillip's lungs, he'd never experienced anything like it…was it just the tributes who were afflicted?
He was all too aware that the Arena was whittling down but as desperate as things turned, Phil had no intention of fighting or killing without provocation. For all intents and purposes, he knew he was on borrowed time, that should the Capitol be bored of him, they could send him back into his gaudy-colored, deranged death. Killing anyone for the sake of winning wouldn't serve any other purpose than to get extra sponsors and break him. Linden knew about his stance on that aspect of the Games, that he would never stoop so low as to be like the serial killer. I'd rather die…self-defense was a whole other story. Gray found himself debating these ideas in a place that, in any other world, would have ended with lightning striking him.
"I miss you Vee…"he whispered into the empty room, not knowing if that someone on the other side of the camera. Whatever idea the Capitol had of Phillip Gray ever letting go of the District Five tribute, it was wrong. He figured he could say something like that in a church, right? "A lot." He whispered three words and allowed himself to rest, one ear open for intruders.
B. The Forest
The Arena's forest bore no resemblance to the clearings Phillip played Pirate when he was a child: there wasn't a hint of the comfortable breeze, only the eerie crackle of branches in the wind. There were signs of blood, of bodies dragged around and away. This was plain survival and the Phone Guy kept it that way. He had to keep his mind busy as he laid down a simple trap for a rabbit to take. He couldn't deny the smile when he caught a frog the other day, and of coursed he named it Kermit before it ended its' life.
Anyone in his reach will get one look before he decides if friend or foe…and react accordingly.
II - Week 6
A. Village Outskirts
How long has it been since Phil saw another Tribute? The lack of activity should have been unnerving, and at times, it was, but this is when Phone Guy thrived the best. So many months have passed but old instincts died hard and it's in the silence of the Village that he becomes aware of the hazards, the environment, everything. Being stuck in that security room for five years, his hearing was fine-tuned to listen for any steps that were not his own, for someone else's breathing. This was the last raid he could make, he had to make it count as he broke pot after pot.
B. Closed to Firo - Castle
It was the howling of the wolves that prompted Phillip to abandon the forest for the time being, he'd made it this far and overgrown dogs weren't going to kill him now. The castle, even with the damage inflicted by that witch girl still seemed sturdy enough to hide from the ravenous beasts. Gray made it a point to avoid the castle as much as he could, the experience in the Catacombs, even if it was just the entrance, left one hell of an impression on him. Too much like the back rooms at Freddy's, dungeon cells replacing the steel drums that held the dismembered limbs that…But times were harsh, and there was only so many threats he could face before he called it in.
"Hello…hello?" he greeted into the walls, hoping an ally would answer.
What| Week 5 & 6 Catchall with a closed prompt for Firo
Where| All over the Arena
When| Weeks 5 and 6
Warnings/Notes| FNAF details, Closed prompt contains death by rats,
I- Week 5
A. The Church
It didn't matter that the Capitol stripped the building of any religious connotations, for the ragged Phone Guy, it was still a place that held something special. There was signs of a struggle here but it didn't matter to the Tribute as he settled down on a pew and rested. Food was becoming scarce, and with each passing day, the rats were increasingly aggressive towards anyone who got too close to their scraps. The sudden illness knocked the wind right out of Phillip's lungs, he'd never experienced anything like it…was it just the tributes who were afflicted?
He was all too aware that the Arena was whittling down but as desperate as things turned, Phil had no intention of fighting or killing without provocation. For all intents and purposes, he knew he was on borrowed time, that should the Capitol be bored of him, they could send him back into his gaudy-colored, deranged death. Killing anyone for the sake of winning wouldn't serve any other purpose than to get extra sponsors and break him. Linden knew about his stance on that aspect of the Games, that he would never stoop so low as to be like the serial killer. I'd rather die…self-defense was a whole other story. Gray found himself debating these ideas in a place that, in any other world, would have ended with lightning striking him.
"I miss you Vee…"he whispered into the empty room, not knowing if that someone on the other side of the camera. Whatever idea the Capitol had of Phillip Gray ever letting go of the District Five tribute, it was wrong. He figured he could say something like that in a church, right? "A lot." He whispered three words and allowed himself to rest, one ear open for intruders.
B. The Forest
The Arena's forest bore no resemblance to the clearings Phillip played Pirate when he was a child: there wasn't a hint of the comfortable breeze, only the eerie crackle of branches in the wind. There were signs of blood, of bodies dragged around and away. This was plain survival and the Phone Guy kept it that way. He had to keep his mind busy as he laid down a simple trap for a rabbit to take. He couldn't deny the smile when he caught a frog the other day, and of coursed he named it Kermit before it ended its' life.
Anyone in his reach will get one look before he decides if friend or foe…and react accordingly.
II - Week 6
A. Village Outskirts
How long has it been since Phil saw another Tribute? The lack of activity should have been unnerving, and at times, it was, but this is when Phone Guy thrived the best. So many months have passed but old instincts died hard and it's in the silence of the Village that he becomes aware of the hazards, the environment, everything. Being stuck in that security room for five years, his hearing was fine-tuned to listen for any steps that were not his own, for someone else's breathing. This was the last raid he could make, he had to make it count as he broke pot after pot.
B. Closed to Firo - Castle
It was the howling of the wolves that prompted Phillip to abandon the forest for the time being, he'd made it this far and overgrown dogs weren't going to kill him now. The castle, even with the damage inflicted by that witch girl still seemed sturdy enough to hide from the ravenous beasts. Gray made it a point to avoid the castle as much as he could, the experience in the Catacombs, even if it was just the entrance, left one hell of an impression on him. Too much like the back rooms at Freddy's, dungeon cells replacing the steel drums that held the dismembered limbs that…But times were harsh, and there was only so many threats he could face before he called it in.
"Hello…hello?" he greeted into the walls, hoping an ally would answer.
no subject
"I'm fine, I'm fine--" He shoved himself to his feet, grimacing as he noticed the deep cut on his arm from the falling weapon. Could have been worse, but it could have been better. He squeezed his arm to stop up the bleeding, realizing what he had to do.
"Just give me a minute, okay? I can fix this. ...But I think you'll wanna stand back. Last time I tried this in the Arena, everything freaked out at me and Jack." As in, they nearly got torn apart by fish and sirens. But they escaped just fine, so hopefully he and Phil would have the same luck...
He watched Phil's eyes for compliance. Hopes aside, the farther the man was from him, the better.
no subject
"A-All right...please be okay...okay?" he whispered, his brown eyes darted around the rats, making sure they were away.
no subject
He smiled with a confidence he didn't feel at all. But maybe it would help his friend feel a little better about this. "I'll be fine. And, hey, watch close and you might even get to see something pretty neat."
Most people tended to run screaming or try to kill him when they saw his immortality manifest, but at least Phil had something of a warning. Firo took in a deep breath, then focused to draw the spilled blood back into his arm. Slowly, it followed his command, wriggling back into the wound like worms.
It took much longer than it usually did and he had yet to put on the final touches and close up the cut when he looked up to smile again at Phil. "See?"
no subject
Well, hope Firo has some good reflexes because Phillip's eyes roll to the back of his head but he stops short of actually fainting because of the rats. "Y-your power, the beacon, you're immortal, oh my God. Holy shit!"
But as the mobster predicted, the rats have become significantly aggressive.
no subject
Firo's stepping forward to try and catch Phil when the first rat bites into his ankle. He stops mid-stride, bending over to try and swat it off. Damn it, now is not the time. "Shit, you little sonuva--!"
By the time he wriggles away from that one, another has leaped onto his shoulder to seek his neck, while another's hanging from the newly healed arm. Frantic, he looks to see how his friend is faring.
no subject
"Get off! Get off him!" he screamed like a banshee out of hell itself as he stomped around, but the other rodents began to cluster around the two tributes like they were dinner on a platter. Some even tried to bite Gray but he did his damnedest to crack them under his foot and slash them away. What the hell got into them?! He had to draw back...
no subject
But then, as he felt sharp teeth cut dangerously close to a major blood vessel, he fully took in the size of the pack they were dealing with.
"I think you should--" he cut himself off with a grunt of exertion as he tried to pull the rat off of his shoulder. When he opened his mouth again, he spoke at a much higher volume than he intended "--just get the hell outta here, okay?"
The horde would only get worse, he was pretty sure. It was only logical that he alone take the consequences for what had been something of a stupid action. Phil hadn't asked for this.
no subject
He had to run, shoes covered in gore, but the image of Firo being devoured by all the rats was enough to make him lose his meager meal as soon as he was away and safe. He fucked up, big time...again. And just like the last time, someone he considered a friend died for his mistakes.
no subject
Holding out, of course, being a matter of principle. He knew he didn't have a chance in hell.
As he pressed his hand against the blood pouring out of his neck, he made a quick mental note to apologize for making his friend see this. That was, if they both were deemed entertaining enough to revive in the Capitol.