apparently we're going sixth // arlo v tavi

Arlo had sort of figured he'd dozed off because of all the, y'know, fun loopy drugs they give crazy people who pull out their own teeth. Probably why the trees were so tall and stretched too far into the ceiling. And- y'know, maybe he had stolen a fog machine or something on his way back to the room because damn was it hazy in here. If he was honest- "I feel very high, sirs." His hand looks huge when he salutes toward the cameras and whoever was talking to him- oh, wait, well, wellll-

"Well, gee darnit! Prizes!" He gasps with exaggeration, but leaps from the bed and makes his way toward the elevators at a brisk pace.

Yeesh, they'd already gotten him a gold tooth What more could there be? He secretly wonders how intimidating it looks glimmering in the emergency lighting, but when he grins in the reflective surfaces all he can see is the dark bags under his eyes, the way they make his sockets look gaping. Empty.

"Allllriiiighty, then. Picture perfect!" He winks at a camera.

It's only when Arlo gets to the Training Room that he realizes he probably should've been paying more attention to all the things before the fabulous prizes bit; apparently we were starting right fucking now.

And he was going to be stuck in a cage with- scrolling with eyes, scrolling with pointed finger-

"Oh good," Arlo grins so big and wide as he turns on his heels to face District 8's little rat. "You again. Maybe you could just- drop out now? You know, my unremarkableness will probably make me untouchable."

"Oh wait wait! And could you not hit me in this cheek? Got a fresh new look I don't really want to ruin, alright, cool, thanks." "And I-" he grins. "Promise I won't be gentle. Just how you like it, right?"