sleep with one eye open { gay panic : day 1 }

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The first rule of assessing issues of the human function is standing back and observe the irrationality of emotion. Running away from the supposed bloody field had been an idea of his own despite the others in his alliance having done so also. The chaos wasn't for him. Blood wasn't what he wanted to spill. Bellamy had grown used to the smooth red of it in his memories. The idea of getting blood coated through his hands was vastly disgusting to himself. Who even wanted to throw a fist at another kid? Not him. That's for sure. Though, Mauve would kill him if she heard his thoughts. His eyes fall to her for a moment as he's rushing to catch up with the others.

Observation was important to any assessment of a situation, but the moment Mauve's foot tears through the grass cut so perfectly, he has to sigh. His index finger and thumb rubbing between his eyes at the sight of Mauve already starting up with their allies. "You're a bunch of cowards," Cold, unnerving eyes staring towards them with all the venom in the world while Bellamy Scott knew they'd played the game smart. It's easier to run and live to fight another day than die in a field of broken bones and bloodied grass blades. "Fucking cowards." Cowards survive. The truth lies in evidence and Bellamy's got plenty of it. Years spent learning more about his father's coworkers who hid away from the truth even in the small eyes of himself as a kid. Cowards survive while fighters die. Mauve could call him a coward any day, but he didn't feel like one. No, Bellamy was smarter than most for even deciding to run away.

"Better sleep with one eye open tonight friends," The twisted smile is nothing more than a threat in the air. A shaking of his own head as he pulls himself together to no longer seem visibly shaken from her desire to risk their lives. Mauve was psychotic in her ways, but she had to at least know they'd played it smart. Supplies could be found. Wounds couldn't fully heal. Stamina was the main factor of the games and if they didn't keep it up, well they'd be sitting ducks in a pond of carnivores. "Nobody forced you to flee the bloodbath. You made that decision on your own." The sharp turn is sudden as he looks to Liara wanting to tell her not to start it up, but it's already too late. His voice finding it's air finally.

"It's smarter to take a minor loss than a major one. A broken leg or one of us dying could be detrimental to the entirety of the-"

The cannon sounds over his voice. An echoing blast to silence his voice for no reason other than showing that bloodbaths were actually bloody. Pulling out his notepad and pencil, his token from home, he marks down one dead out of twenty three. One step closer to the end, but he didn't need to add to Mauve's anger by exposing his own desires to make it to the end. Mauve had enough over his head with the dumb dare they'd shared in the train. The fact his own life was possibly in Mauve's own hands made his stomach churn. "You got to be kidding me," A whisper of breath to no one but herself. Bellamy's own hands clutch his sides as he fumbles around himself, unsure of what more to do with himself. Liara is the one to start it up again. A fire burning between them as he stands there helpless to stop any of it. A detective with no comprehension to solve a wild girl and a career from arguing about fight or die.

"You can find ways to survive in the arena, Mauve, but unlike that person who died, you can't bring yourself back to life. It's better to flee and live."

Lucas and Sierra would have laughed at him for ending up here. Confrontation was his thing, but he didn't deal well with most of it. Most of the time, he pushed and pushed until he got what he wanted, but Mauve and Liara seemed to know what they were doing. His eyes went from Mauve to Liara and back. Looking over to Bubby, he looks for help, but finds none other than Bubby's pretty eyes. A sigh fall from his lips as he steps in with a faux confidence.

"Alright. Alright. Alright. Mauve, we get it, you wanted to fight, but we stopped you. Liara, you wanted to survive for another fight. Boom. You're on the same page. Next fight, you both can take out this argument on whoever we run into. Doesn't matter who's right or wrong in this conversation, just matters about surviving to the end and getting the crown. Correct?"

A soft smile pulls on his lips as he hopes that settles it for now. Bellamy Scott wasn't a miracle worker, but he certainly could pretend he was. His soft eyes following from one to the other before the sound of a ringing hits his ears. The silver parachute filled with supplies crashing down in front of him. A laugh almost bubbling from his lips at the sight of it all. Survivability was already starting to go up higher and higher. Keeping an eye on the area around them, he sets to work putting all of it on him.

Smiling at his alliance, he tries to keep the dysfunction at bay. The smell of gunpowder having always been around the corner of familiarity for him. A smoking gun wouldn't carry any of the answers. A bullet fired would shred anything of note. He didn't want Mauve or Liara to rip one another to shreds, so he speaks up once more. For an intelligent guy, he wasn't really sure how smart it was trying to be the voice of reason for these two terrifying forces.

"Hey, look supplies! See, who needs a bloodbath. You can get some kills later Mauve. I promise."

Operation convince Mauve to calm down was a go.

All he could do was hope she fell for it.

No one, not even Lucas, could say no to his puppy dog eyes.

Mauve would fold.