You Can't Take Me | [Reyes ~ Day One]

I am already dead.

I don't feel like it, but I am. I don't feel anything, really, but I see things. As I run from north from the Cornucopia, the dust and sand that clouded the air through the action has settled a bit, save for the stuff stirred up with my cleats. I can see the glass above us, now that I have the time to notice, and as I turn around and face the bloodbath I look up for once. I knew the sand was falling, but now that I see where it's coming from, I feel as if it could all break through and drown me. The thought seems uncomfortable at most, mildly amusing in the least. Some ounce of fear or nerves that I felt earlier should be tugging at me and reminding me of my inevitable death. I still look over my shoulder, but out of habit. Any number tributes could come up to me right at this moment, and I would feel nothing. But then, no shadows surround me -- at least not that I know of -- and the only sand in the air is from my own feet.

I enter the large tower to the north and stop at the doorway. I turn and look at the expanse of the arena. It isn't too big. They can hunt me down; I can hunt them down. Huh.

Interesting.

Whatever. I don't care. Nothing can touch me, hurt me, or kill me. Not now. Wouldn't it be such a shame? I've fought so hard already. Ha. Ha. Ha. I don't normally act like this. Why am I acting like this? I can't. What's wrong with me? Dead. Dead. Dead. I'm so tired. I want to curl up in a ball and hide myself and bury my head in the sand and just stop breathing or maybe go back and dig a hole into the Cornucopia and let it swallow me up. Ripred, I'm so tired. I decide not to enter the structure in front of me, and instead sit by the door. Nobody's in front of me -- if they want to come at me, they'll have to come through the door. I'll see them coming. For now.. I need to sit. My legs burn from the constant effort. People aren't meant to sprint for so long, especially in sand that could nearly pull a person down and gobble them up. I stare down at the uniform they've put me in. I thought it was odd before, but now.. now it matches the sand. It matches the blood. Black and red are the colors of the Arena, and I bet the Gamemakers got a good laugh out of the jumpsuit.

Slowly, my breathing calms down. I pull my backpack from around my shoulders and investigate what I've retrieved. A cooking pot, tweezers, blanket, flail, and the axe that I plucked off the girl that.. that I killed. I killed her. I'm a killer.

Huh.

It seems odd to feel any sort of regret. I got an axe out of it. Action, reward. I'm not saying it's a good thing, but.. but I got an axe out of it. My parents would be proud of me. The kids might even be impressed. First kill of the Games! It would be something worth celebration back home. They'd have cake and cookies and those chocolate-covered donuts and my favorite food, and for once it would be peaceful. There's no killing when there's celebration.

Sadly, the axe is the only useful thing I have. The cooking pot is alright, but I can't exactly haul water all over hell and back with it. The blanket will keep me warm. But still, I can't survive with just this. Not with the odds as they are.

Just as it crosses my mind, a rain of parachutes fall to my feet. Four of them, to be exact. People are actually supporting me? After the incident in my interview, I figured I'd be my only true fan. Guess not. And now I'm smiling for the first time since yesterday. Hope. Hope. Hope? Hope!

Flint, to make a fire. A tarp -- ha! -- and some rope. Most important of all, however, is a kit of medical supplies which I immediately open. A needle and thread and bandages lay within. I pull out the needle and thread and set to work on patching up the gash that the District Two male landed on me. When it's all done, I pack the supplies back into my bag and hop up, turning towards the landscape that lies within the menacing tower. Wood. Lots and lots of wood. I look for the best pieces and cut limbs from the trees with my hatchet, stuffing them into my bag greedily. I can't stay in one place for too long -- they'll be coming soon, searching for tributes to hunt. I don't want to be here when they do, so I pull my backpack on and --

Bullets rain down on me.

[dice=10]

I gasp and run to the entrance, but I know I've been hit. Ducking for cover, I stop and look back at the hell behind me.

Ripred.

I pull out the needle and thread again as blood pours out of my wounds, and sow them up as quickly as possible.

What just happened?

I don't look back. I only run.

[He gained flint, med kit, tarp, and picked up firewood. Prior to the RE, he had 8 damage and he used first aid and needle and thread once to take that down to 0. Then the RE, and he had 16 damage, which he took down to 11 with the second use of needle and thread.]