proudgreenauror | Walked Through Many Doors

*slumps by a statue of Bældæg the Bilious and rubs his stinging ribcage; two blue 'bullet' marks stain the left leg of his camouflage fatigues, and there's one on his right side -- still blue, which meant that it must have thought it bounced off a rib -- and a flaring streak across his back*

*grits his teeth: if these had been large-calibre bullets, his bones would have been destroyed; as it is, the scenario seems to be designed with small-caliber weapons, and the mock bandages he had created out of strips of his torn robes should be sufficient to stop the 'bleeding' and allow him to keep moving, if not to fight at full strength*

*because in this kind of game, this test of survival, the ability to keep moving -- to stay on your feet, to fight to the last -- was what mattered the most: to cling even through pain to the mission, the objective, and the inner strength to attain it*

*hearing no sound of pursuit, Gai pulls out his journal and scribbles a brief, shaky note -- one that he'd meant to write two days ago, before the Battle Royale had come out of nowhere and taken all his free time*

[[Filtered to Sir Integra]]

Sir, after the current activity ends, I have a report to make on a matter we discussed a while back. Please leave me a note as to when.

[[/filtered]]

[[Don't worry, Gai's still in the arena. Since he hasn't had many live encounters, this is to establish that he actually is fighting and getting shot at and stuff, even when I'm not around.]]