{ creature fear // jem & dan

It wasn’t hard to see that Jem was far superior to most of his fellow tributes. His stylists had certainly done an excellent job highlighting the fact in the opening ceremonies, and it didn’t take long for the roar of the crowd to go right to his head. The knowing looks from gamemaker Glamour certainly didn’t quell his ego either. He prowled the training room with confidence, like any true career, but rather than intimidate his opponents, he flashed that cocky, handsome smile to any eye he could catch. He’d always been a show pony and he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste any asset that might aid in his victory—especially not the ones he used best.

He had already tired of spear throwing and sword sparring; it wasn’t as if he had much physical competition to contend with. Moving on, he selected the plant booth hoping for any hints as to what the arena might be like. As he perused the various fauna by flicking his finger left and right against the large computer screen, he was well aware of his largest threat nearby. He had yet to turn his sparkling green eyes Dan Johnwayne’s way, because he knew the moment had to be just right. Politics were the same wherever you go, and Jem was well trained in this art.

The snide comment rolled off Jem’s back without pause and his flirtatious smirk lit up as he turned to face the male tribute of District 2. He surveyed him for a moment with a heavy flicker of his lashes for effect, not that he hadn’t already calculated every inch of this particular opponent.

“Well,” he slinked closer with his hands on his side, “parents who are clearly more creative than naming their son ‘Dan’, how dull. What sponsors are even going to remember that?” Jem folded his arms, his smirk shifting to a grin as he pretended to think hard for a moment. “But I suppose I wouldn’t mind sharing some of mine with you.”

Jem playfully rolled his eyes at Dan’s counter, but he quickly returned to his sultry gaze and ever-maintained his sly grin. His grin widened as he let out a small huff to sneer at the notion of the boy before him snapping his pretty little neck. It was an odd picture in a sense to see these boys sizing each other up. On the one hand, they were of the same breed. Both hardened and trained to kill without qualm or remorse, yet they could not look more opposite. Jem was particularly pristine even by the usual standard of the District 1 male, and perhaps it was just his own imagination, but he noted that Dan Johnwayne looked a hell of a lot tougher than your average District 2 career. He liked that.

He locked his eyes with the washed out blue of Dan’s haunting irises as his rival stood before him revealing the difference in their size. Jem was smaller in height and bulk certainly, but that had never stopped him from taking down an opponent before. It was all about being calculating and knowing the right move to make. It took more than brawn; it took tact. Lucky for Jem, most larger fighters lacked it. There was something in those light eyes though that warned of more, and Jem knew this would be his greatest adversary to date. He liked that too.

Jem shrugged his shoulders and surveyed the room of tributes as Dan complimented his fighting prowess. It was certainly true. The batch was full of losers aside from him and Dan Johnwayne… with the exception perhaps of Tiger, but he knew who it would come to in the end. Looking back to Dan, Jem took in the boy’s smile with the missing tooth. He couldn’t help but show his pearly whites in return as he let out a small laugh. It wasn’t out of malice or teasing; in Jem’s eyes the missing tooth confirmed his analysis of the tribute before him. They couldn’t be more opposite if they tried.

“Sounds good to me,” Jem replied, his smile returning to his typical smirk as he took a step closer to Dan. “I’m always down for a little fun before the real Games begin.” Jem bit his bottom lip lightly and stuck out his hand for Dan Johnwayne to seal the deal.

Jem couldn’t hide the confusion on his face as Dan held up two of the most useless items in the entire room. “Why would I ever use one of those?” He said with a furrowed brow. Perhaps he didn’t have as much to worry about as he thought with this one. As his intentions became clear, Jem bit his lip uncertainly and looked up to the Gamemakers table and then around to the trainers. He was a show pony, not a troublemaker. Part of his promise for winning the games was in ability to charm those in charge to give him favor. Pelting them with paint was certainly not going to do that.

He looked back to Dan still with uncertainty. Antics like this had been squashed out of him by his mother in early childhood, but she wasn’t here to squash them now. Besides, if this pissed off the Gamemakers, its not like he couldn’t spin a story his way, and it was clear that Dan lacked the gift of tongue.

“Alright,” He said finally, a coy smile returning to his face as he accepted one of the slingshots, “you’re on. But what do I get when I win?” He took a handful of pebbles and dipped his first in blue paint. In one fluid motion he turned from Dan and aimed at one of the trainers showing some lower District nobody how to wield a sword. A moment later the pants of the trainer were painted with a dot of blue smack in the center of his left butt cheek. Jem turned back to Dan and gave him a small wink.

Like all true careers, Jem loved a challenge. As juvenile as this was, it was no different. He cocked his head to the side and blew away the strand of platinum hair that had just fallen into his face. “Oh we will see about that, Cowboy,” Jem said grabbing another pebble of his own to launch. Just to prove he wasn’t afraid of a little trouble, Jem aimed for a Gamemaker as well this time. The older, purple haired man swatted absentmindedly at his leg as Jem marked his black pants with blue. He quickly grabbed another pebble and made for his next target: one of the knot-tying trainers.

Jem let out a small laugh as he took aim. This type of frivolity had never been allowed in the Morgan household, and as stupid as shooting people with pebbles may be, there was something to be said for this kind of fun. He left his mark on the women’s sleeve and turned back to Dan waiting for his next move. “So is this a kind of thing you’d do back home?” He knew the answer before he asked of course. Everything about Dan Johnwayne spelled troublemaker. Jem was on the fence as to whether that would help or harm him in the end, but it was still too soon to tell.

“Oh,” Jem replied, trying to imagine what further antics the cowboy might usually get himself into. Mayor’s son or not, he was still not particularly educated on the goings on of District 2. It was certainly interesting how different the brother/sister dynamic each had with their sibling based on Dan’s description. Jem leaned in closer to Dan to inspect the damage under his eye and shrugged. He and Glitz never sparred with one another; they only fought others as a team. “She certainly sounds like one,” he gave a small laugh, lost in thoughts of his own sister. He wondered what she might have to say about this Cowboy Dan, for Glitz Morgan never lied. Every moment that passed though, Jem was taking note of his opponent behind that flirty smile of his.

He stood beside Dan, fiddling with a pebble as his partner and rival made his next shot. He covered his mouth and snickered at the poor avox’s misfortune. “I think you lose points for that one, Cowboy,” Jem joked but sobered quickly as he watched Dan pelt one of the head Gamemakers square on. He tossed his slingshot behind his back to feign innocence, but couldn’t help but laugh at the look on the overly sequined Gamemaker’s face.

“Alright, you win this round,” Jem said, dipping a finger into the blue paint. He closed the gap between himself and Dan and touched the wet paint to the boy’s chest. “But I’ll get you in the end.” Jem gave him a sultry look before turning to give the same glance to the gaudy Gamemaker. He added a wink for good measure then turned back to Dan. “You’ll see.”

Jem licked his lips as he smiled back at Dan. “Is that a threat, or a promise?” He turned his back to the cowboy but continued to look at him over his shoulder for a moment. Smiling to himself at how easy this was, he made his way over to a cooler filled with bottled water for the tributes. He grabbed one for himself then tossed another to Dan. It wasn’t as if he had trained hard enough to build a thirst, but drinking a lot of water had become a habit. “Hydrated skin, is happy skin,” his mother would sing as she forced her own beauty regimen onto her children. Her little mantra resounded throughout his mind even now, thousands of miles away from her reign. He couldn’t deny there was truth to it though, and being one of the best looking tributes, he intended to keep it that way, both inside and out of the arena.

After opening his water bottle and taking that first refreshing gulp, Jem locked his eyes back to his wild companion. “So, I’ve seen the mark your sister left, what other scars do you have to show me?” It was clear that the scar creams and lotions of District 1 were either not available or not cared about in the Johnwayne family. Maybe it wasn’t a thing in District 2 at all. Truthfully, Jem had never thought much about life in the other Districts until actually being faced with citizens from them, and now he was a little curious... at least about the very different lifestyle of his rival Dan Johnwayne.

There was nothing polished about Dan Johnwayne as he downed his water and crushed the plastic bottle like a brute. It was becoming clearer and clearer what kind of opponent he would be in the arena, but Jem had plenty of time to analyze his tactics before the time came to face one another. Admittedly, the tribute from District One was caught off guard as Dan winked at him in return. For a glimmer of a moment, he could feel the burning blood urging toward his cheeks to paint them with blush. No! His thoughts demanded, ebbing the flow just in time. This was his tactic.

“Hm…” Jem responded, tilting his head slightly in thought. He could read between the lines that there was more to this cowboy than it seemed. It was easy to think of each of his fellow tributes as mere characters, game pieces really, simply there to play a role in Jem’s impending victory. To think of anyone as anything more was a slippery slope to a guilty conscious, and there was no room for that in a rise to stardom.

“Well,” Jem began, giving some of his best bedroom eyes as he inched toward Dan, “one of us needs to be eye candy in the arena, so no.” Any wounds he incurred had always been excellently patched up. Any scars had been shaven down immediately, for Gentry Morgan could not have anyone in her family looking less than perfect. He may be a trained fighter, but it took no more than one look at Jem Morgan to know that he was not accustomed to getting down and dirty… at least not in that manner.

Dan’s wink left Jem a little more brazen and he tightened the gap between them. He locked eyes with the cowboy as he lightly traced a pale scar on his forearm with a finger. “But I’m sure you’ll leave me with a few before it’s all over,” he grinned slyly, unaware of the layers his words contained. “I promise I’ll add to your collection as well.”