Topic: The Claiming (Open)

[~Kira~]

Now it wasn't out of the ordinary for a Dominant to be submissive in nature and vise versa. But it wasn't something that was widely accepted and due to this, the people who were of said persuasion tended to try and keep things quiet about their preferences. Makoto could tell that Raj either fell into such a category or was on the brink of falling into it due to the way he had spoken and acted so far. That was fine with him, he could be dominant enough for the both of them in this game.

But it would be rather interesting to see how Raj would react in such a situation. A smirk played along the corners of his lips at the thought and he glanced over at the other male when Raj asked if he had water. "Mm. There's two full bottles in my pack." He told him and raised a brow when Raj informed him that he didn't try to talk too much due to his speech issue. Hm, sometime soon he needed to find a substitute for cigarettes. Makoto wasn't a complete addict, okay so maybe he was.

However, he couldn't go more than a day without one. He would start to crave nicotine which would then affect his thinking and his reflexes. Not something he needed to have happen here. Of course, he had no clue if anyone even had any cigarettes out here which meant he had to smoke something but what could he get out here in the wilderness? Perhaps some herbs or green plants out there could be smoked in order to give him the same fix the cigarettes could. "Let's go find some herbs."

"Or plants out there. I need a smoke. We can do the branding there too at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone." Makoto said and looked over at his partner waiting to hear a response from him. One thing they both agreed on was that they couldn't stay here any longer. Not if they wanted to get a head-start on the others.

[Sexi-Kitten]

Raj was glad to hear that his partner had to bottles full of water. However that also meant that Makoto had already killed someone else in order to get that second flask. Since they were partners Raj knew he didn't have to worry about the other man, but there was still the off chance his submissive would turn on him during late game and go for a stronger dominate. Later he would have to prove himself as a worthy dominate despite his speech problem.

Smoke? Raj didn't like smoking, but a few old friends use to smoke so he had gotten use to the smell of it. Nodding in response he lead the way through the rocky landscape. A few times he stopped them to hide in a cave before proceeding. They had to at least get to the Heart of the Arena in order to find anything useful for burning. The labyrinth they were in was not helping their case. The twists and turns all looked the same.

Eventually he stopped.

Turning to Makoto the dirty blond frowned. He was frustrated with walking around in circles. The small stone that looked like an eagle's head was found three times and by the forth time around Raj wanted to break it. It mocked him every time he walked by. The sinking feeling of being lost and starvation was going to be the death of him made him feel slightly ill.

"Y-your... t-t-turn..." he muttered as he stepped to the side to let Makoto lead. Maybe he could find a way out of the maze of rocks.

[~Kira~]

Makoto would most likely remain with this dominant for the entire game. Not because Raj was weak or he was too lazy to find another partner. He probably wouldn't even leave Raf for a stronger dominant should someone ask for his assistance. Raj was good enough for him and was someone Makoto didn't have to worry about stabbing him in the back, not until sometime later on that is. There was only one thing he wanted to gain.

Some entertainment, he didn't care what number he ended up as in the end. But there was no way Raj could know any of this and Makoto certainly didn't intend on telling him, where was the fun in that? Makoto followed after Raj, keeping close to him until the other male suddenly stopped and told him it was his turn to lead them. "Mm." He didn't mind leading them and it didn't look like they were getting anywhere anytime fast, at least now.

So maybe it was for the best. So he moved in front of Raj and started the trek again. One hour later, they returned to the cave in the northern arena where they had first started out and Makoto blinked as he stared at the familiar spot. "Eh? Hm, we must have made a wrong turn somewhere." He murmured and turned around to head in another direction. Soon after, they came upon the same site a second time which made no sense.

Makoto reached up to scratch his head. "That's strange..." He looked over at Raj and cleared his throat. "Not sure how we ended up back here." Makoto started off once more, hoping the path he chose would lead them to a different area or at least get them back to the rocks that they had been at earlier. Even though Makoto had a horrible sense of direction, he had no awareness of it and thought himself to be average in that department.

What was worse was that Raj was probably better at navigating than he was, which was saying something.

[Kazuo]

Indeed, they had to cover their tracks. For some odd reason, as his young companion continued to speak, Alann was becoming more curious of the man's background. It's not that he was curious because he just wanted to know. He wanted to make an association between the man's knowledge and his life outside this competition. He seemed to be knowledgeable about the ways of life. He seemed to know nature more than your average man in the city. Had he grown up in an environment far from the Metropolitan?

As he thought this, the male mimicked Ray's actions. He smashed the drip stick he'd stuck up into a tree bark, and did the same - smashing the back of the handle of his knife against the tree bark itself just to make it look a little different from the other's.

Alann was just about to open his mouth to speak up, but was distracted by the movement he'd caught at the corner of his eye. When he'd seen that it was Ray motioning for him to come, he did just that and raised his eyebrows a tad. So... a berry. What about it? Glad, though, that his unasked question was answered, Alann only nodded once in reply. "Would it be more useful then to get a pet - or an animal, if you'd prefer - to taste test the fruits we could encounter in the future?" The male adjusted his glasses and pursed his lips, "We can't overlook all the fruits we pass by." There has to be at least one of the many in this damned game that's consumable.

And, when the topic about animals was brought up, Alann weighed the choices in his mind. Indeed, a bigger animal equaled to more meat and better build-up of the immune system. Considering that they were going to be spending some time (at least, he believed this) in this game, they had to try and stay alive by not getting ill or sick along the way. "Look for someone else that has food and take what they have."

Surprise would be an understatement when Alann heard this from his companion.

But, like a while ago, he gave it some thought. In fact, as they moved along, he didn't seem all too ready to reply. It didn't look like he'd be replying, too. It was only when he'd noticed the change of sceneries from the forest to what appeared to be less of the trees (but damn were they getting bigger) and a lighter shade of grass - close to yellow - did he look up to move his gaze about the place. No, they were still in the fauna. But, what was this? Was it signifying that they were moving away from the forest?

The sound of laughter caught his attention and he snapped his gaze towards the said sound. Immediately, he grabbed ahold of Ray's forearm, literally dragged him to the nearest oak tree, and looked over his shoulder. "Someone's here." It didn't sound like he was alone, but it also certainly didn't seem like they were going to be in trouble. Alann let go of Ray's arm when he'd realized he'd touched him without thinking. "About what you asked a couple of... hours ago-" He purposely cut himself off to turn and look back at Ray.

"If they have food, I'm not hesitating to take it from them even by force." He may not like the thought of killing, but if words are not able to get through another like it had gotten through the man beside him, then he wasn't going to hold himself back from getting his hands dirty.

Though, really. He'd prefer if Ray's hands got dirty and he got the goods for them instead.

[Blackchain]

Laughter and an alarm went off in Ray's mind. In that same moment (which was, embarrassingly, a late reaction), Ray's shoulder was jerked to the side by his companions firm, but soft hand. For a pause of indiscernible embarrassment, he twisted out of the hold and focused on the task at hand. The chuckling continued behind the great oak tree and his ally began speaking in darkened, harsher tones of murder, a language that Ray truly had not experienced first-hand. He stared into his eyes; he had said he was not afraid of getting his hands dirty, but his eyes seemed...ambivalent. He obviously was uncomfortable with killing, which was a slight comfort to Ray, but he seemed to clearly understood the issue. Another player had entered the picture; was it justifiable to kill him for the supplies he carried? Shaking it off, Ray asserted to himself that this was a game of death, and the winners were the survivors with no exceptions. He had to whittle away at the long list of opponents, at least until there were few enough to manage alone. This man had never wronged him, never struck him... but he had to die.

With this train of thought he caught a smell; not the average smell of the humid forest air, nor the mild odour of his new compatriot. This aroma was more like that of a kitchen, and even more so of roasting meat. With a very careful eye, Ray peeked out into the small camp at the bottom of a small hill. The area was barren, save for a few items casually tossed about. With a glance, a relatively large boar could be seen on the edge of a miniature campfire, burning with a flickering delight. The fire was small, no more than burning twigs, but enough to cook the stripped boar meat. There, at the bottom of the hill munching away at the roast was a sturdy-looking man, fairly tall with large muscles. The juice from the meat trickled down his black goatee, his face thrilled with his find. Ray saw that to his side was a knife, much like his own, and covered in blood from the pig carcass. The delicious fragrance of the meat was mouthwatering, but in order to remove this from the man down there, he would need a plan.

Looking over to his companion, he could tell Alann was waiting for something, some method to take the camp. In those deep receptacles he could feel the hunger pangs, the need for sustenance. Mulling it over in his mind, he saw so many scenarios involving Ray dying. One showed him sneaking up from behind to relieve him of the dagger, but then the man notices and stabs him through the chest; that would not do. Another vision involved him trying to stab him in a straight assault, but that ended in just as much of a miserable failure. Only if he worked together with his teammate could they win this battle. A third possibility entered his head, in which Ray and Alann both attack from either side, but while this was the most likely chance so far, the man looked more than capable of killing them both. It was no good: if the man noticed an attack too quickly, he would be alert. A sneak attack was the best opportunity. Deliberating further only one possibility remained, and before Alann came it would have been impossible: he could slowly make negotiations with the man, buying Alann enough time to come up behind him and stab him. It was not an elegant strategy, but it was all they could do with such primitive means.

He explained the concept to his colleague, which was not immediately welcomed. It was a dishonorable, almost cowardly tactic, and Ray knew it. Unfortunately, it was their only realistic option. With a brush back of his long hair, Ray leaned against the tree with a silent sigh. Such a pathetic move; there were so many possible ways it could fail. With no other suggestions, he settled himself for the attack. His nerves and body were in awe that he was actually going to kill someone, and be there when he dies.

[Sexi-Kitten]

They were hopelessly lost. Raj sighed heavily and walked forward another circle. How long have they been walking? Hours? Minutes? It seekers a long time, but the sun was still in the sky. Raj looked around and tried to think of something to keep track of where they go. With limited supplies it would be difficult.

They had three flasks of water. Using one might help them out. Taking his out of his bag he moved until he found an area with pathways. He poured a short line in front of him before passing over and picking a way. When he came back to this pathway he saw his water mark and smirked. Now he knew which way he has already been. He did this over and over until he reached the exit and an empty flask bottle.

Turning to his partner he grinned. He felt proud that he had gotten them out of the maze of rocks. He had shown himself as a useful Dominant and leader; the main reason  he was made a Dominant. The only had two bottles of water now, but it would last until they get some more.

Raj looked around and noticed the Heart of the Arena in the distance. Getting there wouldn't be a problem. He motioned for Makoto to follow him. There was a lot of people still alive so they had to be careful, but Raj was relieved to know he wouldn't be dying slowly because he stupidly gotten himself lost and ran out of supplies.

[Kazuo]

The plan was... preposterous.

It was so because, well, he's only met Ray for a couple of hours at most and here he was, already willing to take the bait. Normally, Alann wouldn't have cared; he wouldn't have minded, but right now, he had made a pact with the man. And, he intended to keep it. "No," he started, obviously looking very disturbed by the plan that Ray had just relayed to him. He couldn't say that "this plan is going to get us dead" out loud, no. If he did, he'd be afraid, he'd only point out the obvious. It wasn't hard to tell with the way Ray was steeling - though, in his opinion, failing at it - himself as he readied to attack.

Setting his hand on Ray's shoulder, he gave it a firm squeeze, a silent sign that he should hold back. "I will negotiate." The male peered out again over his partner's head before he moved his gaze back down to him. "I trust you have my back." It was a few more seconds before Alann let go, and a little more when his stomach grumbled. The noise, apparently, caught the sturdy-looking man's attention. He seemed alert. As the businessman let go of Ray's shoulder, he straightened himself out before he stepped out of his hiding. Immediately, Alann raised his hands. This was the same tactic he'd used with Ray, yes; but, this time, he had no intention of making another pact lest he'd want his head cut off by Ray.

From the way the big man's look of surprise turned to that of wariness, and then interest, Alann knew then that he had him wrapped around his finger. His good looks is an advantage, and the only thing lacking there would be the way he'd choose his words.

"I have my knife, but, I do not intend to use it." He motioned to the belt around the stranger's waist. It wasn't red like theirs. He was a Submissive. "Would you want me to set it aside?"
"..."

Despite the man's silence of a reply, Alann's lips curled up into a polite smile. He reached for his knife, but stopped halfway when he saw the other man do the same. So, instead, he raised his free hand and added, "Please. I won't hurt you." The juice from the pork the said stranger was eating stained that goatee of his; and, Alann couldn't help but be a tad bothered by it. That was no surprise. After all, he was hungry. His stomach grumbling should be enough to tell anyone and everyone - that - who were nearby.

Alann dropped his hand back to his side. Apparently, pulling out his knife was not an option. This man, as he'd thought, was certainly well-trained. He could be dead in a matter of minutes, and he wouldn't be the least bit surprised. In fact, he couldn't help but find the thought as to whether the other had some sort of military background outside. There was just something wrong with the belt that didn't fit this man's image.

"Are you alone?"

It was a couple more minutes before the big man finally nodded. Finally. He got the man to answer him. Alann, who was a little more than tense a while ago, chuckled softly. He swung his backpack forward to fish for a bottle of water inside, to get that one bottle he'd filled for himself not too long ago. "Water with your meat would be perfect, wouldn't it?"

"... I have."
"More?"
"Yes. But, I did not steal. I made fire to boil what water I got from the Heart of the Arena."

The other mentioning the 'Heart of the Arena' made Alann's brows shoot up for a moment. They were near the heart of the arena?

Yet again, he lifted his hand. This action of his seemed to make the man wary; it seemed to make the man tense as he grabbed the handle of his knife with his free hand. But, when he saw that Alann was only going to fix his glasses, the big guy relaxed and dropped his hand from the handle of his knife. "I see," was all Alann said to break the silence between them. Yet again, there it was. His stomach grumbled, a little more loudly this time.

"Hungry?" The question he directed at him obviously surprised him. He hadn't expected it at all. In fact, it made Alann wonder if he's gotten not just the man's interest but his attention. As he looked up to meet the bearded man's gaze, Alann's lips curled up to form another polite smile. "I'm afraid so," he replied honestly, "The smell of your roast pork's very mouth-watering." He saw something change in the man's expression. The big man seemed... proud, even. "I assume you caught and cooked the wild boar yourself? It must've been difficult alone." While he asked this, he returned the bottle of water again into his bag and slowly made his way around the open field. The stranger didn't seem to think he was with anyone else; and, that was good.

Alann also made sure not to look back at the oak tree where Ray was because he'd prefer for the man's focus to be on him. And, how else would he get that but to gloat about the man's strength? "It's quite a big catch. You're very strong."

This conversation... he needed to get it going. He trusted Ray was going to do the job. After all, this was a two-man team, was it not?

[Gaslight]

He hadn't died. That had, of course, been Zaire's intention when he'd turned on the blondie. On the hapless, weak and helpless Submissive who had so docilely interacted with him without the slightest hint of fear. It hadn't taken much more to convince the clearly overwhelmed boy to join him, and that was when Zaire had taken him into the the forest just to the West. Not far, but far enough to be out of sight.

It was then that he'd struck with a quick but ruthless efficiency, rendering the man stunned and finding himself straddled atop him, hands ready to go to blondie's neck. Staring into the face of an innocent man who, thanks to the rules of the game, was going to choke and sputter and struggle for life but still ultimately die.

Zaire's hands hadn't even closed around the man's neck before he realised that he couldn't do it. Or, rather, not that he couldn't. Faced with the task at hand in such an environment that was so far removed from the laws of society, it was a terrifying realisation that it would have been easy to simply end a life and think nothing of it. To pretend as if it didn't matter or that his crime wasn't worthy of punishment.

Maybe it was that he wouldn't. The man didn't need to die, not for Zaire's purposes anyway, and so he'd simply manhandled the blonde until he had the man pressed back against a large, nearby tree. At which point he'd lashed the blondie there with the thick, sturdy vine he'd acquired from that god awful swamp, severing a small piece with his knife to use as a gag as well. Those troubled blue eyes watched him the whole time as he worked and Zaire knew that leaving the man so defenceless was as good as killing him, but the difference was that this way it wouldn't be by his hand.

Once the man was secure, Zaire went about stripping blondie's pack of everything that was useful, being selective about what he transferred into his own in order to keep the weight down. Once he was done, however, he performed the most important task of all. Standing up, he stripped the blonde of his green belt and quickly wound the thing around his own hips, placing his own red belt on blondie. Pure logic dictated that Dominants were likely to be bigger, stronger. Greater threats than Submissives would. So pure logic dictated that the best way to survive was to make himself a target of the weaker predators and the deceitful ally of the stronger.

With this, he could essentially get in close enough to kill before the another Dominant had even realised the treachery.

Grabbing his pack and slinging it over his shoulder, Zaire refused to look at the boy as he walked passed, murmuring a quiet, "It's nothing personal. It's just business."

With that, he was gone, disappearing into the thick cover of the Western arena.


It was a while - Zaire didn't know how long since time seemed to lack purpose or meaning in this dark, forsaken place - before he finally heard the sounds of movement once more. Actually, before the movement, he heard the murmur of voices and, upon realising that he was hearing more than the rustling of animals in the undergrowth, he quickly dashed behind the trunk of one of the nearby trees. The silence seemed to hiss and spark around him in response to the sudden burst of adrenaline that wired his system and his hearing sharpened as he tried to distinguish the sounds better.

Yes, it was definitely the voice of someone else. There were other people here, nearby.

Which dictated that he needed to veer in the opposite direction. He knew that the twisted aim of this exercise was to force them to bond with people they would have to eventually kill, survival mandated that they needed help, but Zaire still felt as though he was better off alone.

However... it was a difficult situation. Right now he realised that he whoever was nearby had no idea he was here; if he were to walk away, then he would lose the advantage of knowing where the threats were. It might lead to him being taken by surprise instead.

Besides, from this proximity there was no way that he'd be able to get away quickly without making enough noise to alert the others of his presence, and moving slowly ran the risk of the others possibly catching sight of him. To confront or not to confront.

Feeling confident in his ability to fend off any Submissive - and confident that his new belt would keep him safe from the Dominants for now - Zaire slipped out from behind the tree and carefully inched his way forward to where he could hear the voices. A smell began to waft through the air as well, one that made Zaire's stomach tighten in knots of hunger. Food. Roasting meat.

However, despite this it wasn't the people involved in the conversation that caught Zaire's attention. Instead, it was another figure who seemed to be hanging back from the gathering, remaining hidden amongst the trees. Watching. Planning, no doubt. It only took one look at his belt to ascertain that the man was another Dominant and from a tactical viewpoint it wasn't difficult to figure out what was being planned after he'd caught sight of the two other men stood in conversation some distance away.

And it unfortunately left Zaire in a difficult position. Chances were that if he could see the hidden Dominant, then the man had likely caught sight of him as well. Even though his borrowed belt should, in theory at least, offer him some protection, he still didn't relish his idea of turning his back on the enemy.

After a short moment of deliberation, Zaire simply revealed himself fully, moving lithely and quietly out from between the trees, taking things slow so that the two who were currently involved in conversation wouldn't hear his movements but making sure to keep himself in plain sight of the lone brunette male who stood apart from them. Seeming completely unperturbed by the situation, he stopped once he was beside the man and turned to stare at the scene playing out before them with the two other men as well.

"It won't work, you know," he finally muttered to the strange Dominant quietly as his eyes swept across their surroundings. "Given the length of the blade of your pocket knife and the mass of the man's musculature, you probably won't be able to do more than some minor tissue damage even with the element of surprise. It's doubtful that your friend won't subconsciously react to your approach either and there's no way you'd be able to make it through the undergrowth quickly enough without the sound drawing your target's attention."

He then used a finger to point upward. "You would have been better off with an aerial distraction. Climbed one of the nearby trees while your friend plays decoy, then cause a disturbance up in the canopy. The target likely would have looked upward, exposing the vulnerable tissue and arterial system of the throat, allowing your friend to execute a quick and clean kill. With both major arteries severed, the blood would have drained out of the target's head in less than fifteen seconds, leaving him no time to resist. He would have been dead before he knew it."

Cocking his head to the side thoughtfully, Zaire then murmured, "Though I doubt the merits of such a tactic. The man is strong and clearly good at hunting, both valuable assets. Large as well; at that size, its doubtful that he'd be able to outrun you, making him the perfect sacrifice if you were to encounter a predator. Killing him seems somewhat wasteful. Then again, I could be reading too much into things."

[Blackchain]

Alann had taken the bait; the large man at the camp had a large upper body, but even from here he could see his legs were not nearly as fit as his arms and stomach. He would be clumsy and slow to turn, making Ray's job almost seventy percent easier. The safer route was never to be a distraction. Alann stating he'd make the negotiations was a joke in of itself; he obviously had not caught on to Ray's manipulation. Whatever the outcome, there would be one survivor in the camp that could be leashed and controlled, but restarting the process was not guaranteed, and was a very time consuming process. He would have to side with Alann, but he should be prepared for him to lose.

Ray sneaked close to the ground around the camp, slowly and noiselessly. Silence was golden, after all, and he had plenty of experience when he had hidden from his father as a child. Crossing over rough terrain was no problem, and no sound came up from the brush. Halfway around him, the large man flinched and reached for his knife; Ray dropped down lower so he would not be seen. Luckily, he was reacting to his diversion, not Ray. With a quiet sigh he continued his ambitious assault. He was not comfortable with an attack, but he knew if he did not strike first, then most likely he would die in the aftermath of the failure. His legs and arms lifted him over the whole of the forest floor, speedily snaking his way throughout the underbrush, now almost three-quarters of the way there. Even hearing it from here, Alann's comments and negotiations were an utter farce. The big fellow in the camp seemed to be buying his snake-oil, but honestly, his looks were probably the only advantage his companion had. The body language on him was simple and obvious, but the face was perfected, as only a diplomat or high-society businessman can easily master. The beast before him, however, had clear motions and responses as that of a soldier, almost certainly a basic grunt. Getting closer, he could see his muscles twitch, lowering his guard and accepting Alann's compliment, where any higher-ranked, smarter official would already have killed him. The military, as per usual, was predictable.

Noiselessly, a man came from the brush with a calm expression, clearly not intending to disturb the fools speaking below. Who was this man? Why make yourself visible when he had not even been aware of his existence? Surely, such a move would end in his death if he should survive their encounter. The attractive young man spoke, clearly knowledgeable about the human body, and obviously had a decent education. He was dressed clearly as a submissive, and was also intelligent; he had either met the one person he could end up alive with in the end...or the one he needed to kill the most.

Sever the arteries? Not a bad concept in theory; but it is far too late for an aerial distraction and such an opportunity had just as many possibilities of failing as my plan. Best to continue with what I have and hope this man doesn't stab me in the back along the way

Why did he come? He could have left Ray and his companion to carry out the attack wordlessly and pillage the victor while they, or he, was tired. Could this, perhaps, be some sort of non-combatant? His information on human anatomy was not wrong; the arteries severed would be his best chance. A surgeon? Certainly his choice of the arteries would be consistent with a surgeon's diagnosis of a quick death, but the concept nagged at him. Not likely; a surgeon is more pressured during operations, and deliberate quickly while thinking on their feet. The man beside him had planned the procedure out in his head, even coming to a conclusion of an alternative to land-based combat. This man must be of the medical field, but more likely a close study of human biology as opposed to an experienced professional. His secrets were unraveling quickly. However, the time to deliberate over his new interest came after his business with his closest opponent. He silently nodded and made a hushing gesture, leaving the man behind, giving him a small, sarcastic salute with two fingers.

Slipping down the slope, his mud-covered sash and black clothes concealed him in a natural colouring, Ray's preparations were almost complete. He slipped behind the man and lifted his brandished blade...and hesitated. He had never actually killed someone before; at least, never with his own hands. Panic began to rise in his throat, his hand began trembling, and his senses began to blank. His opponent's back was clear before him, his neck awaiting the knife's embrace, but Ray's pulse began to pump to utter terror. Then, hearing noise and suspecting an animal, the man perked up and turned around slowly.

The large man was stunned, unsure what to do and his muscles would not react. Eternity moved in slow motion, and everything that happened after was within milliseconds of hesitation. Everything shattered; the fear, the trembling, and the world. Everything felt precise and simple, and Ray's eyes narrowed. Without thought of consequence, Ray's blade came to bear, slit through the mans throat and came back down to plunge deeply into his heart in primal blood-lust. In a gray, deathly twitch the man backhanded Ray, knocking him several feet to his back. The berserker then reached to his neck, gagging on the blood spilling from his esophagus. His last gasping breath filled the air of the camp as he dropped to his knees and hit the dirt, jerking erratically as he lost the last string of life left within him and collapsed. The soldier was dead: mission accomplished. With the strike to his head came dizziness, then finally Ray blacked out, seeing in the end only his earliest companion ambling toward him.

"Idiot..." he whispered to himself, falling into the encroaching darkness.

[Kazuo]

No, indeed. Alann hadn't caught onto Ray's manipulation, and for a businessman like himself who was used to manipulating people to get what he wanted, he was good. Ray was good. In fact, he hadn't realized it until he'd stepped out of their hiding place instead of Ray. But, despite this, his current disposition was to his advantage anyway. He didn't want to bloody his hands. "So," he started, catching the man's wavering attention. Oh, he could see his companion move about noiselessly and he took this chance, too, to move. "Is this your first catch?"

The big guy seemed to proudly puff out his chest like a little kid who'd just been praised for topping the class. "Yes," he replied, "My first catch. A bit bloody-" He trailed off to look down at his knife, but Alann cut that said look halfway with a wave of his hand. It made the man blink, and Alann chuckled. "I see it," the businessman replied as he nodded once, "Quite bloody, indeed." There was a smile that graced the bearded man's face. Sauce was still dripping down his beard and he continued to hold the half eaten leg of the boar he had in his hand.

He's taking too long, Alann thought as he, yet again, made the man tense when he'd adjusted his glasses. He often did that when he was irritated, frustrated even, and helpless. He couldn't make any move, and he couldn't make the man's attention go elsewhere but on him. What's keeping him? Unaware of the stranger that had joined them, Alann looked up to meet the big man's questioning gaze.

"It's nothing. I'm just hungry."

As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. Again. A little more loudly, too, than the last time. He didn't bother putting his hand over his stomach. He simply dropped his hand to his side as he politely smiled at the bearded bear of a man. "Do you want to eat?" It was then he'd noticed his gaze going down. Alann was well aware then that he had finally noticed he was a Dominant. The invitation was tempting, and it almost appeared to him like the man was luring him in for the sake of initiating a pact. After all, in this game, Dominants had to brand a Submissive in order to live and win, correct? But, what if a two Dominants were to live? Although this game would be able to help his future partner stakeholders to know him, he still couldn't let go of the questions he had for these rules they set out.

Realizing that he's made a crucial mistake of leaving the man's question hanging, he was about to open his mouth to reply when he noticed the man perking up and turning around slowly. Like their target for this little facade of a play of his, it just dawned on him that Ray had finally gotten out of his hiding place and went to strike a kill. He didn't think he'd see him hesitate, though, and just as he was about to get his knife, he found himself stopping halfway when Ray's blade made contact with the man's throat. The backhanded slap was a definite surprise. Alann's eyes didn't just widen, even his feet went about their own way to sprint to his partner's side. "Ray!" Normally, he wouldn't care. Normally, he'd just calmly approach the situation, but he had to make sure Ray didn't die on him.

After all, he needed someone who was able to use a knife for him.

"Idiot..." If Ray thought he'd just whispered that word to himself, he was wrong. Alann was close enough to hear it; he was towering over the other with a rather irritated look on his face. As his heart rate calmed down, he gave the man's side a rather hard kick. "Calling me an idiot for taking your sweet time and waiting for him to turn around?" he asked with a purse of his lips, "I can kill you right now." The look of irritation was obvious on his face now as he crouched down and reached out to lift the other's eyelid. Of course, he wouldn't kill him. It was more like he couldn't. Good. He's only unconscious. As he let go, he reached out to slip his arm under the other's shoulders, lift him up to his propped up knee, and firmly planted his foot on the ground. With Ray's head on his chest, he checked for any other injuries that the other might have sustained other than the hand print that was starting to turn red and form on the man's cheek. Idly, he wondered, was this how a lover's hard slap to the cheek would look like, too?

But, what had kept him from taking too long to attack? As he thought this, Alann looked up, surprise evident on his features when his eyes landed on a stranger. A Submissive. Now, that was strange. Alann frowned and stared at this stranger, the smell of the roasting wild boar and his grumbling stomach now forgotten and ignored. He wasn't just wary of him, he was also deliberating on the strangeness of this situation. Would a normal man approach two Dominants? Was he around to try and break their pact? He wouldn't be the least bit surprised.

After all, this game required a Dominant and a Submissive to win.

[Gaslight]

A long sigh escaped Zaire's lips as he watched the hapless Dom rush off into combat. It was, as far as he was concerned, clearly down to either arrogance or stupidity. He remained where he was, simply watching the exchange with a calculating stare, even-temperedly weighing up the variables with a clinical precision that belied the fact that he was currently watching someone's life come to an end.

Yes, Zaire might have thought that killing the Submissive was wasteful and supremely poor tactics, but he wasn't delicate about death. He couldn't be, and anything within him that wanted to be was quickly crushed and buried in a deep, dark place where no one else could see.

Watching the death was different to envisioning it, though. He had experience with cadavers that had suffered fairly disfiguring wounds, but it was different facing the reality of how much blood was pouring out of the dying man's throat. The volume, the dark colour. Zaire was sure it was warm and it was almost sickening watching the man's face turn ashen like dust before he crumpled into a lifeless heap on the floor.

It also became clear that the attacking Dominant's motivations hadn't been arrogance or stupidity; despite the moments of hesitation the other man had exhibited, the ferocity with which he'd struck was indicative that the act had been one of pure and perverse pleasure.

Fucking psychopath. If he was genuinely considering infiltrating this little group of two, he was definitely going to dispatch the brunette first. Once he'd... come up with a conceivable way. If it was too obvious then the other Dom might be able to deduce his treachery... so it needed to seem like an accident...

Then again, maybe he didn't need to worry since the man collapsed barely a second later.

"Morons," Zaire muttered beneath his breath as he adjusted the strap of his pack and began to make his way down the slope. Practically, he knew that this chance provided to get closer to his competition without their knowledge was too great to pass up. And, more importantly, the prospect of food was too great to pass up.

Keeping his strides long and measured, Zaire moved over to where the conscious Dom was attempting to heft his unconscious comrade up. He didn't show any hesitance as he stopped and peered down at the other two, seemingly paying very little attention to the dark haired man as he looked the brunette's face over. Since there didn't seem to be any medically significant wounds - not that he would have cared it there had been - a slight smirk quirked the corner of his lips as he noticed the red mark forming on the unconscious man's cheek.

"He looks like he's been bitch slapped," he commented with a shake of his head as he threw an impassive look at the dead body laid out on the ground several feet away.

With a sigh, he looked back again and finally met the conscious Dom's eyes with a stoic look in his own. "His weight will slow you down," Zaire stated bluntly, pointing toward the unconscious man. "And you don't have time. If the smell of roasting meat doesn't attract any predators soon, then that corpse will once it starts rotting. That one will slow down your agility and hamper your speed, and it's also unlikely that you'll be able to defend both him and yourself if the predators tend to be the types that run in packs. You also probably don't have enough time to pack that boar, which is the reason I assume you killed that defenceless man in the first place. Overall, it seems very much like this has all been a waste of time and energy."

Zaire had never been shy about telling idiots that they were idiots, mostly because he believed that humans by nature were simply too impulsive and that people needed to be made aware that most of life's ills could be avoided by the appropriate amount of deliberation. Only time would tell if these two were a lost cause, though.

"You need to choose if you want the food," he pointed out to the Dom. "Or if you want him."

He pointed to the unconscious Dom.

"Though, you'll never be able to move fast enough if you try to support his weight alone."

[FangirlNation]

When Hanel found out he was going to be in the Claiming he wasn't surprised. He'd been told since he was a baby that his father considered him a blemish on his reputation. Born in the upper echelons of society, Hanel's father was about as dominant as they came. From what he could remember the man had been huge--with a temper like a switch and hands that looked like they could pulverize meat. Of course he'd had a soft side, too. His submissive had been good at his role, and when his father was happy Hanel had enjoyed spending time with him (or at least, the softness in that spot of his memories told him so).

Then Hanel got sorted as a submissive.

His father disappeared after that. Within the week he and his mother were kicked out of their apartment and forced out of the city. Hanel's mother had to carry him all the way home to her small village, where Hanel lived the rest of his life with her and his grandfather.
 
Of course, Hanel being so young he didn't mind the change. His grandfather was nice and owned a home that was big enough for the three of them. He was a physician, and so when Hanel inevitably succumbed to the sicknesses his young body had not built immunity to in the pristine Metropolis he was well taken care of. Hanel's grandfather even taught him basic medicinal techniques--healing plants, cleaning wounds, setting breaks and sprains. It was all for the hope that Hanel, despite his weak constitution, would be able to survive on his own one day.

That probably wasn't going to happen now. Hanel knew he'd stand no chance alone--he was weak physically and wasn't very good at begging for his life--so his primary goal was to find a dominant willing to claim him.

For Hanel a dominant would be the ultimate success. Being marked as submissive had been bad enough as a child, but being sickly and a general lack of "practical" skills left him almost completely unable to fend for himself in the real world. The things he was good at were only useful if he was claimed.

Besides his knowledge of remedies, and an uncanny ability to sooth dominants on the rampage. Sometimes that amounted to Hanel being the punching bag, but usually it just meant speaking to them in calm voices and providing reassurance until they calmed down. A few of these dominants, his family had hoped, would claim him. None of them did. When he was called for the Claiming, Hanel knew this was his final chance.

Taking his current location to his advantage Hanel managed to get his canteen full of water (though it would need to be purified whenever possible). He couldn't stay on the beach for long, because if other submissives came his way they might take an opportunity to attack him. Of course, temporary alliance was also an option, but not one that Hanel preferred.

For the time being, he would head into the cover of the tree line and hopefully hide within the foliage to gather provisions. If he spotted a group of dominants or a submissive who didn't look ready to kill he would approach them, but for now everything was uncertain.

With his canteen full and the day still bright Hanel headed into the trees. The area was dense and incredibly humid, and all around there were bugs. As such, Hanel didn't stray too far from sight of the lake. He wanted to be able to go back if he needed to, because the primary rule of survival was to stay near water.

Before he could really start searching, though, the animals in the forest all seemed to rustle at once. Hanel had no idea if it was because a predator was coming or a fight was breaking out or whatever, but that usually signaled some sort of commotion. Without thinking he hid in the hallow center of a tree and waited to see who or what would come by--if anything.

[Rikku]

Nathan gave a soft groan as he slowly opened his eyes. He pulled off the blindfold and peer around cautiously. Where the hell was he? Squinting under the intense light, he was bombarded with fields and fields of tall, wild grass. It was only when realization dawned upon him that he was in the games did Nathan swear mentally, Oh shit. He wasn't ready for this to happen yet, not all of the plans were in place. Nathan stressed out as he stood up, he would have to try to get to some kind of technology and use it to finish it. In the mean time, it appears he has his tasks cut out for him as he looked around at the vast field of golden yellow.

Peering down, he realized he was dressed in all black with a green belt on, how ridiculously tacky, not to mention the effectiveness of this camouflage was practically zero. Well, at least it would be useful at nighttime. The only problem was, he actually didn't know what the green belt represented. Does this mean his father paid off enough people to get him a dominant belt? Or did the government decide to go with his real category regardless? Ah, shit. No point in pondering now, Nathan shook his head as he went through his backpack to find what was given to him. After going through his inventory and repacking it, he kept the blade out and pocketed it carefully instead for easy access.

Staying in one place wouldn't be safe, not to mention the tall grass wasn't much of a cover; he would have to head towards a terrain with overhead protection. As Nathan walked cautiously along the plains, he couldn't help but admire the technology used to create all this. Thoroughly taught in mechanical engineering, it was obvious the government spent a tonne of money on the creation of this artificial dome. If only they spent that money on the other smaller villages and towns instead - Nathan thought bitterly.

It wasn't long before he stumbled upon a small patch of cultivated land with what seemed like plants grown in grid formation. Nathan snorted at the irony, this was so stupid, what did the government think they were playing at - SIMS, village edition? He started digging up some of the more ripened looking potatoes and turnips, as well as cabbages and asparagus and made a mental note of where the little piece of land was. Stuffing them in his backpack wasn't too difficult as they were all relatively small sized and fitted the odd spaces here and there. The carbohydrates would come useful later.

Spotting the rare tree in the distance, Nathan made his way over and carved off a large piece of bark. This would serve well as a map, he thought as he started carving his path. Without a sun, it was difficult to know which direction he was headed in, but the slight artificial shimmer through the 'sky' was enough to alert Nathan how close he was to the edge. Making sure to add the proper markings, he continued along with his knife in hand.

Both to his nervousness and relief, Nathan didn't encounter anyone in the next hour or so, except for the occasional rabbit or deer. He would hunt once he gathered a group of people, but the smell of meat would simply bring carnivores out at sun down and him by his lonesome self wouldn't survive against a cougar.

It wasn't long before he spotted more and more trees popping up, and what looked like to be a beach in the distance. Making sure to mark that down as well, Nathan licked his parched lips as he trailed along the edge of the forest, between the dense forest and the open beach. It wasn't until he was horizontally aligned with the beach (therefore, the least amount of distance to travel) before he made a break for the water. Keeping his steps light, he kept an eye on his surroundings as he lightly jogged over to the body of water and filled his canteen up.

It was too dangerous to build a bonfire without rounding up more people - he didn't need to draw unnecessary attention to himself until he found some decent allies. If he had a dominant belt, he would need to be on his toes, but if it was a submissive belt - then it would better serve his purpose. He packed up his canteen and started to retreat back into the forest.

Ideally, he would be able to travel through all the terrains and grab as many necessary items as possible, but for now, he best stay around bodies of water - since everyone will have to come to it sometime or other. As he trailed along the dense undergrowth of the forest, trying his best to not jostle the trees or bushes, he made sure not to lose sight of the body of water. As Nathan strolled quietly past a ridiculously huge tree, he did a double take as he walked past what seemed like an opening in the tree.

He swore he saw a pair of eyes within the hollow confines of the large timber - and shit if that wasn't scary. What the hell, that's so creepy - what if it was a rabid animal? Nathan quickly held his bark of wood in front of him as he adjusted his grip on his blade for a better moment when swinging. If this was some kind of dangerous animal, he would have to try his best to survive - he couldn't just die away before even meeting anyone here.

"Who's there, come out if you know what's good for you," Nathan all but growled out. Making sure to draw himself to his full height to seem as menacing as possible.

[Elendae_Narel]

This was an absolutely terrible idea, but it wasn't as though he could take credit for such an idea, no, him being forced to engage in the barbaric savagery of "the claiming" had been all and completely up to his previous dom's rival. He'd been doing his best to avoid this mess for the last several years, and he'd been doing a bang-up job of it if he did think so himself. Ral had protected him, taught him to fight, and showed him ways to use himself and his body so that he'd never been pushed around or bullied again, if he didn't want to be. Unfortunately, in this society, there was always someone bigger and badder than you. Hence, the reason for this predicament in the first place. There were honestly too many of them, and it was just easier to agree than it was to fight. You had to know when and who to pick you battles with and leader of the "Green Frog" was not a person he ever wanted to fight, ever. That being said, that particular dom was at fault for this heavy duty dose of bullshit.

Gabby stared out over the mess of mangled branches, disease-ridden, stinky swamp and extremely obvious death trap and sighed. "This is bullshit..." he was not ready to accept any of this yet, nor was he ready to accept the fact that he would most likely die in this mess. He took another deep breath and tried not to let the smell get to him. "I am not going to cower in a corner like every other submissive in this hell hole and wait for some big dom to come rescue me." He took another breath as he finished speaking, "I have got to get out of this town... go somewhere where they're more goddamn civilized." He brushed a slender hand through his black locks, gathering them, and then twisting them back and out of his face with a clip he kept on his person.

He looked down when he didn't find the clip in it's normal place, "you have GOT to be fucking kidding me..." Black was a great colour, he wore a great deal of black, the majority of his wardrobe back home was black, but black sucked at camouflage any other time but at night, and the tacky green belt in question labeled him as none other than what he was: a submissive. "I really hate that label. Just because I can't bench-press four-hundred pounds with one arm does not make me a sub. Fuck this shit." Unfortunately, he couldn't really do anything about it, any of it, he was in the games and he had to make due knowing that.

He wandered around the shallower edge of the swamp, amber-coloured eyes taking in everything that could be of use around him. He had to find a stick, a stick that was long enough so that he could use it to find places that he didn't really want to step in. "Stick stick stick stick stick..." he said to himself.

He eventually found one and began poking the ground with it, finding places that wouldn't swallow him up so that he'd never be seen again, places where he could jump or wade across to a better area that didn't smell so bad and wasn't so fucking wet. "I'm probably gonna smell like gold to these assholes..." he said to no one in particular again. "Fuck... All right fuckers... none of you can hear me and that's fine, but I am not gonna make this easy for you. You want me... You're gonna have to be better than me..." Yep. That sounded good to him.

His appearance was submissive in nature, unfortunately for him, the label always had been about appearances. It was the main reason that he'd quit school: he didn't like the way that he was being treated by everyone in the class, the teacher included. He was smart, but he was small, slender, a slight bit more on the curvacious side than most of the boys that he knew, and quiet. He didn't speak to anyone unless he wanted to, unless he felt that they were worthy of his opinion or his commentary. He wasn't lazy, he just didn't give a shit about social normals or the way that things were supposed to be. His legs were long, slightly muscled in the way that a dancer's would be, and his hips prominent. His black hair was longer in the front and shorter in the back, easier to manage, but attractive all the same.

He sighed again, this entire thing was going to suck.

[FangirlNation]

Hanel watched from the shadows in the tree husk as another submissive stalked past. He looked much like Hanel--small compared to his expansive surroundings and completely on alert. Hanel was sure dominants didn't have to navigate the arena with such caution. They were typically stronger, and their main competition was other dominants. A submissive's competition was another submissive, as well as any dominant that deemed they weren't strong enough to be a companion.

For a moment Hanel wondered if he should show himself. The company of another submissive was preferable to being alone, but it would be a relationship devoid of trust. As soon as it came time for sleep neither of them would rest well with the fear that the other would murder them while unarmed.

No, it would be better to lay low and collect provisions on his own for now. Usually within the first few hours people were too trigger-happy. They weren't thinking of survival, but instead of killing as many of their competitors as possible. Only when "sundown" approached were the others contemplating grouping up.

Ah, shit. Well, it looked like Hanel wasn't being given a choice. The submissive had locked eyes with him, and now he was being told to come out. If he wanted to make his case to this guy he had to think fast.

Hanel moved slowly out from the cover of the tree--one hand in the air and the other with his knife close to his chest. He made sure his body showed no signs of hostility, just a semi-surrender at the other submissive's wishes. The more he showed he wasn't a threat the more likely the chance of them being able to come to an understanding.

"I'm not going to attack you," Hanel said. "I wasn't sure who you were, so I hid until I could gauge whether you were a threat or not. Obviously, I should've hid a little better, but that's neither here nor there."

Now that the submissive knew he wasn't dangerous Hanel quickly tried to sell his good traits. "See that tree behind you? Not the big trunk, but the one growing around that trunk? If we open it there's likely water within the vine-like appendages. I'm guessing it's drawing it from the lake, and the tree is purifying it as it goes up to the tallest parts. If we can't make a fire that's safer water to drink."

Hanel's eyes then darted toward a water apple tree that sat closer to where the heart was. "And that tree has sweet fruit that's safe to eat. Unfortunately, it has a cousin who has deadly fruits, and you can only tell by smell which one is good and which isn't."

The other submissive looked extremely skeptical at this point, and Hanel knew this was his chance. He carefully brought the hand that had been in the air down and held it out for a handshake. He stood there, smiling, and said, "I'm Hanel. My grandfather is a physician in the outer villages and was able to teach me about plants for healing and survival. I don't know everything but I know enough to keep myself alive for a while. If you'd be willing to make a pact..."

Hanel then slashed at his palm--only a small cut--and held it out again. "Blood pact. We stick with one another until we find a dominant. You may not like it, but we need them if one of us wants to get out alive," Hanel stressed. "But obviously there are none here now, and no guarantee they'd want us if they saw us. So, until they're willing to make claim, we help each other live."

He had no idea if this little plan would work. The other submissive could deem him worthless and try to kill him immediately. That would mean Hanel would have to fight him, which wasn't preferable. And even if he did accept, Hanel had no idea how binding this guy thought a blood pact was. They were pretty serious in the villages, but otherwise it was anyone's guess.