paragonGeneticist

"Let the Game Begin!"

**lolcommercialbreak'causefuckyou**

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Sky looked for Watanabe, amongst the other contestants. He wasn't that hard to find, due to his...Ahem, girth. "Yo!" He shouted. Before the two were even allowed a proper reunion with one another, they were shoved backstage, where they were soon to be released and shown to the public eye.

***

Skylar was given his cue. He walked sheepishly onstage, his hands behind his back, and everything about him generally refined to something that represented him as a character. 'Bold, quick,' the stylist's words echoed in his mind. Blue was apparently the colour that matched him most. He didn't reject the statement.

He gave a few inspirational words, the usual bullshit that everyone else had given before, flaunted his baby-face and his eyes...The works.

His fears were slowly but surely being confirmed.

"Let the Game Begin!"

So, shall we timeskip?

"Let the Game Begin!"

"20 minutes! Stylists, pick someone and buddy up!" Men and women wearing eccentric, sorry, still-waiting-to-catch-on, clothing rushed into the room, immediately picking and choosing from the multitude of people in the room. 20 minutes until showtime, and they were going to be presented by the order in which they had been celled in. At least, it seemed that way. A lone woman pulled Sky away, and the only words he could get out before being choked by his own collar were, "Good luck out there, Watanabe! See you soo-GAK!"

When they were alone, they made eye contact. "Well, hello there," he muttered, in a sarcastic tone. "Hey."
This was the start of something that was going to be grueling for Skylar, he could just feel it. "When do we start?" He asked.

"Right now."

((After Poly's post, we can timeskip, yeah?))

"Let the Game Begin!"

This should be a while. I'll try and speed things up.

"Let the Game Begin!"

"Very well." Never proactive. Always in self-defense. He repeated those two phrases in his head without ceasing, and with that thought in his head, he began to pace. There were a lot of things on his mind, now. "I will not let you become the monster they want you to be."

"Let the Game Begin!"

He shuddered at the thought. "Eesh." His icy blue eyes scanned over the area, everybody seemed so confident, so ready to kill one another..."I agree with the strongest part being your heart," he commented. "I may lack confidence or the will to end another's life, but I'm determined to stay alive. Those sound conflicting, dammit. Urgh."

"Let the Game Begin!"

He jumped at the sudden touch. There were many things to be done. "So, Watanabe," he started. "Have you got any plans to win over the audience, maybe a few sponsors?" He asked. He was busy devising plans of his own - but the only thing he could think to do was improvise.

Shit was about to hit the fan, and he knew it.

"Let the Game Begin!"

The line moved into another set of rooms, each one containing its own label. Skylar's was the 12th, and Watanabe's placing was no different.
The way they were numbered back in the cell rooms was the way they would be numbered throughout the rest of their lives, that much became clear.

"Let the Game Begin!"

He fell silent, contemplating his decisions.

"...Very well. If I'm gonna go down, I'm gonna go down in the books, too."

"Let the Game Begin!"

"People are watching. Hope to the gods we can make ourselves presentable," he muttered. And pray to the gods he did. The line lurched forward...

Hopefully it wouldn't be to their death.