Oh dear...It appears some Biblical figures have been thrown into The Hunger Games.
[CLOSED] Submit names into the reaping here.
Here's a poll tournament for characters from the Bible where you can vote on who you think will survive, inspired on a whim by mostly @hellsite-hungergames. (I'm failing at not playgerizing their info post at this very moment, in fact.)
Rules and information are under the cut!
Rules and information!
The submission form is open until Saturday, February 19 begins in UCT.
You can submit more than one character, but please don't spam one character over and over.
Characters don't have to be directly from the Bible so long as they are related to it in some way. e.g. Dante from Dante's Inferno (book that influenced views about what hell, heaven, and purgatory were like but wasn't ever officiated by the church) or a well known pope.
Each poll will be open for 24 hours; the polls for each round of the hunger games will run concurrently.
I will try to match characters up so that the pairings are entertaining, but there will likely also be some randomization involved.
The Bible Hunger Games will hopefully begin on Monday, February 21.
(Disclaimer: Um. I have next to no in depth bible knowledge. I've some studying to do.)
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Was on a train from Berlin to Amsterdam after Euro quarters and thought what if backpacking Daniel (late 20s, mild crisis about what he wants from life has led to him bumming around Europe) and football fanatic Max (just finished university, his teaching job begins next school term) were also on a train from Berlin to Amsterdam after Euro quarters
Daniel’s greasy curls are matted against his oily face and he can still catch pungent whiffs of last night's nauseating adventures, despite the two showers with gritty bars of hotel soap he’d taken before running for this train. His hair has dried down gross and stringy, crushed against the hood of the jumper he should not need in July. Suffice it to say, he is not looking nor feeling his best, and it manifests in his arms trembling as they weakly attempt to throw his oversized duffle bag onto the train rack.
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters. He’s never been this hungover in his life, probably. His mouth tastes like stale beer and his eyes feel like sandpaper, and he’d really like his body to stop shaking.
“Do you need help?” A voice says from behind him, sounding lightly amused at his suffering. He turns — too quickly, very bad idea for his dizziness — to see a guy around his height but twice as broad, an orange Dutch national team kit stretched tight across his wide shoulders and showing off the round shape of his soft chest. There’s remnants of last night’s face paint still on edges of his cheekbones, the heavily smeared lines vaguely resembling what was once Holland’s flag. Blond-brown hair pokes out the edges of a garish bucket hat, and a crowd of friends in their own patriotic attire behind him are observing them with interest.
How these guys escaped the Euros viewing less fucked up than an Australian watching the sport for the first time is beyond Daniel’s comprehension, but he’s too grateful for the assistance to do much more than grunt an assent and thank you as the guy reaches up and pushes Daniel’s bag up the final few centimetres.
Daniel heaves out a grateful breath and collapses into the open seat below his settled bag, prepared to curl up against the window and contemplate all his life decisions on the six hour train journey and attempt to not spew in a public and embarrassing manner.
Dutch guy glances over at his friends, who have taken up three of the four seats at a table, and then, insanely and without invitation, seats himself right next to Daniel.
“Big night last night?”
Daniel stares at him for half a second, trying to make his brain come online enough to form words. “Uh, yeah. Was in the fan zone. Don’t think I stopped drinking until two hours ago.”
The guy offers him a big, crinkly smile. “Oh, same. Haven’t slept yet.”
“How are you so put together?” Daniel asks. He grimaces as the train begins to move, throwing one arm over his eyes and squeezing them tightly shut until the motion sickness eases ever so slightly. “I’m going to die, I think.”
“Practice,” the guy says solemnly, patting Daniel’s shoulder sympathetically, then letting it linger for a few seconds longer. Oh. Oh. Daniel’s too hungover to even think about the movement involved in sex right now, but like, yeah. This guy is big and strong and hot, and he’s quietly pleased with himself that he can pull even looking and smelling like this.
“I might need some of your training,” he says, flashing a big smile and then remembering the food stuck between his teeth that he couldn’t get out with brushing, floss long lost in the depths of his hellhole bag. He purses his lips together quickly, trying to hide the evidence.
Hot Dutch boy doesn’t seem to notice anyway. He just pulls a water bottle from his blue backpack, propped carefully on the fine hair dusting his delicious thighs, and offers it to Daniel. There’s a fancy luggage tag on his bag, and Daniel steals a glance at the MEV spelled out in delicate gold letting. Very cute, him branding a cheap backpack like that. “Thirsty?”
“Very,” Daniel says, gratefully taking the bottle — opened, he notices, which means these little plastic coils have been sucked between the plush pink of this guy’s lips and rested against the cute freckle decorating the top one — and swallowing down a long gulp.
“I’m Max, by the way,” he says when Daniel is done drinking, careful to ensure his fingers brush against Daniel’s hand when he takes the water back. He’s not aiming for any subtly in his intentions, particularly not with the intense stare he’s directing at where Daniel licks the remaining droplets of water from around his mouth.
“Daniel,” he responds in kind. When Max has placed his water back into its pocket, he takes Max’s hand and pumps it dramatically. “Enchanté, Max.”
Max has long fingers, his nails short but well-groomed. They’re a sharp contrast to Daniel’s bitten stubs, the edges of his thumbs permanently red and half-bleeding. The dark hair of Max’s arms trails up to his hands, which are moisturized, strong, and big enough to wrap around the expanse of Daniel’s throat.
“Will you be staying in Amsterdam long?” Max asks.
Daniel shrugs, tapping one worn-down, stained Van against Max’s navy blue sneakers. “Dunno. I could be convinced to extend my trip if I had a good tour guide.”
He knows Max’s friends are listening in, can see them whispering and giggling and taking photos to probably send in a larger group chat, but he focuses his attention on Max’s pretty blue eyes and the way Max’s hand is still loosely holding his.
“I don’t actually live in Amsterdam,” Max admits. He bites at his lower lip, dragging it through his straight, pearly-white teeth. “But I don’t mind sticking around for a bit.”
One of Max’s entourage leans over, says something to Max in Dutch that sounds like a protest, but a dark-haired boy slaps him in the stomach to shut him up and rolls his eyes at Daniel as if to apologize for his friend’s behaviour.
“You can rent a car and drive yourselves back,” Max snaps at him in English, then turns his soft attention back to Daniel. “So, tour guide. I better work on a good list while you sleep.”
Daniel drops his head down to Max’s shoulder, already making a plan for how he can casually rearrange his body to end up with his head on those plush thighs. “I guess we should find a few things to do around the city while the cleaners replace our sheets, yeah.”
Max laughs. “Do you enjoy football? We can go out and watch semis together, maybe.”
“To be honest, I’d never watched before,” Daniel admits. “I’m mostly into UFC. I just thought it seemed like a good time.”
Max brushes his fingers through Daniel’s gross hair as if it’s something soft and precious. “I’ll explain it all to you. It’s really such a good sport. Do you know anything about English football? Virgil plays for Liverpool.”
He’s off after that, explaining leagues and players and rules to Daniel, doing all these cute hand gestures and making himself laugh with all his little jokes. Daniel doesn’t even mind that he can’t drift off to sleep. He’s content listening to the rumble of Max’s voice, steady like the movement of the train, as he curls himself up into a tiny ball to rest his cheek on the smooth, pale skin spreading out of Max’s terrible khaki shorts.
He thinks he’ll like Amsterdam.
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See, I think Charles’ annoyance and frustration with the Cat King really was just pure protectiveness and not any kind of jealousy - it’s understandable, because Edwin is not telling him what happened even though something clearly did, which is not typical for them. Edwin doesn’t usually hide things like this! Of course he’s worried!
Charles’ reaction to Monty, on the other hand, is difficult to explain in a way that isn’t jealousy. You could say he’s being protective again, but Charles shows no sign of distrust in Monty, and had no idea of who Monty was or that he might betray them - he was actually very chill with him, except in a select few specific scenes. You could say he just doesn’t like him because he got brushed off during their first meeting, but not only does that not seem like Charles at all, it also doesn’t make sense, since, again, in most instances, Charles is genuinely friendly and is happy when Monty compliments him and seems to have come around to liking him (it completely flies over his head that this is a petty jab at Edwin on Monty’s part but oh well hahaha). You could say it changes up their status quo a bit and that bothers Charles. I do think this bothers him a bit, but I think, unlike Edwin, Charles’ fear and frustration here is directed more at situations (the Cat King whisking him away for several hours, as an example) than others. He’s sociable and likes being able to talk to new people. There’s absolutely no way he’d begrudge Edwin doing the same - and he doesn’t… with Niko. Edwin and Niko hit it off and become very close and that never bothers Charles at all. He’s incredibly endeared to her, just like the rest, and for the most part, he’s chill with Monty too, and smiles pretty knowingly when Edwin confesses to him having awakened some feelings. The only exceptions, where he shows definite annoyance, are when Monty first shows up and gets really in Edwin’s personal space to show him the astrology chart he made, and when Edwin is so sucked into the book Monty gave him that he doesn’t hear that Charles is talking to him, to which he annoyedly says that they seem to have been “spending a lot of time together”.
You could say he’s unused to having anyone get in Edwin’s personal space like that, but, again, Niko. She’s very tactile with him and he doesn’t seem to mind all that much; they spend time together watching things. If it was just someone getting close with Edwin in general, not only would that be weirdly possessive for the character, but it would also mean he would show discomfort with anyone getting close, I think. Does Charles see Monty as more of a potential threat than Niko, seeing as he knows her and her personality and doesn’t know Monty? Well, maybe, but again, Charles shows no sign of distrusting Monty at all.
Monty is a boy. Okay. So something about seeing Edwin so close to a boy that is not him, getting lost in thought over something this boy gave him, really rubs Charles the wrong way. Charles appears to catch on just as quickly as anyone else that there is something (or it looks like something) between Edwin and Monty. He is not surprised when Edwin comes out to him in episode 6, and in fact, seems to have just been waiting for him to verbalize it. He smiles and is not bothered at all by Edwin showing (what he thinks is) a romantic interest in Monty - he just doesn’t like it when Monty clearly shows a romantic interest in Edwin. Um. Well. Well.
Charles is jealous. I really don’t know what else to say.
Look, when I first watched this show, I actually didn’t want them to end up together romantically - I love the idea of one having fallen in love with another who does not reciprocate and the two of them still loving each other just as much. That Edwin’s confession made them closer instead of making things awkward is such a beautiful outcome to this build up and I absolutely love it. However. On my two rewatches, I caught a lot more little details, and I think it would be very strange if the show did not follow up on this. That, plus the deliberate quality of these “jealousy” moments where the camera focuses on him, Charles’ Orpheus coding throughout the show, the fact that Edwin’s arc was far more about realizing his feelings for Charles specifically than just coming to terms with his sexuality, and that even the actors admit that Charles’ response to the confession kind of left things open, it really seems to me like the path leads to a romantic endgame for them, or at the very least, that this possibility will be explored in more depth.
**This is just my reading of it. Please do not use this post as a gotcha for anyone who loves them as a platonic duo or people who really love Crystal and Charles together (because let’s face it, they’re super cute too). I’m just doing my rambles. As per usual.
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