the gauntlet discussion

Mitch'd been hoping that today was going to be a good day, but he was still pretty steamed that Micah had decided to join in on all the fun. Unconvinced that this wasn't some sort of sham, not-in-the-mood-today Raemer had taken refuge in in the gym; until his arms had gotten tired, and his eyes had had enough of the totally gay brawl taking place in a location that was too close for comfort. This was nearest to there, and while he'd been passing by, the silence had proved attractive to his restless state of mind. Mitch had taken a seat in one of the surrounding benches, taking it upon himself to slouch low and let his legs hang off in front of him. It was weird how the weaponry settled him. Even from this distance, he examined the contraptions with care, reminded of his boss back at home; always making weird shit in what free time he had. Mitch had always thought it was weird, shouldn't blacksmiths only make swords and axe's and hammers, and stuff? Apparently not when the blacksmith had wanted to be a famous inventor.

From the moment he stepped onto the Academy's grounds, Seth's mind had kicked into overtime. Taking everything in with those dark lazy eyes that spoke of a carefree good time. Letting himself get acquainted with every face he came across and the weaknesses that would no doubt expose themselves to him given time. That was the most important thing though, wasn't it? Remembering to be patient about it all. Nothing good was the product of a rush and it was hardly in the blueprints to spook anyone before the time was right. So instead? He was bidding his time, working to set his roots down as nonchalantly as possible. And when he walked into the arena, he let his eyes wander, tampering down the urge to narrow in on the bolts of those ladders or the deceptively innocent weaponry. Instead, he made himself focus on the other guy sitting on the bench before letting his gaze travel again.

"Please tell me I'm not the only one who doesn't know how to use half of this shit." Grinning, Seth arched an eyebrow, looking back at the guy. He was a pretty boy, someone who looked like he'd been born with the silver spoon in his mouth - of course, appearances didn't mean jack shit here though. "Unless half of the challenge is appearing like we have it in the bag." He was testing the waters with Mr. Pretty Boy over here - either the guy would prove to be easy and take the bait or he'd be first on his internal hit list. Didn't make much of a different either way to Seth.

"Sometimes sheer, dumb luck counts for something. It's rare, but it still counts." Mitch put in, eyebrows lifting sky-high at the strangers light tone. His grin didn't quite catch on, only provoking a short lilt in his own, though Mitch was sure that others found it infectious. "My Dad ran when he was my age; he says that the blindfold isn't just physical. Everything is just kind of thrown out of your head there for a second," This school was full of walls: high and fortuitous, aggressive force-fields used to protect all of yourself. Your family, your abilities, your personality, all hidden behind brick, or stone. He didn't want to have those same walls. He was sure he wouldn't need them. So what if people knew he had a brother, so what if they knew his Dad had lost, so fucking what. Mitch straightened his spine, "Maybe if you act like you have it in the bag, it'll fill up all that blank space."

Suddenly the strangers grin did become contagious. Mitch's was lopsided and free, "I'm Mitch," he introduced, "And I'm not usually about this broody, philosophical shit. Swear," he stuck out his hand, open to a real greeting. "Got a name?"

If this guy was on to something about luck, than Seth was definitely screwed to hell and back. Luck was never something that had found its way to him - didn't mean he was chasing the fuck out of it. But like every man's dream girl, she was just out of his reach, meaning in the meantime? He'd have to work his ass off to create his own kind of luck. Using whatever means necessary? "Well, that sounds promising, huh? Guess if it were easy, everyone would be doing it." Though Seth was beginning to find nothing came fucking easy. Nothing worth having, anyway. Grinning that lazy smirk of his, he ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I don't know about you, but I'm no actor." Liar. Just the fact that he could say that with a straight face proved how good of an actor he was. "Hopefully that's not the only method to getting out of the Gauntlet alive, huh?"

Laughing, he shook his head, stepping closer to the guy -Mitch- to shake his head. "Hey, no judgement here. Means you can think deeper then I can, Mitch." Smile still firmly in place, he let his hand fall away. "And the name's Seth. Unfortunately, no well known last name to go with it, I'm afraid. It's fucking insane, who we're here with."

"I'm a great actor." Mitchell lied, expression impassive. Like he believed it. Mitch was pretty confident in himself, but, as it turns out, he had weaknesses. Weaknesses he'd rather die concealing from his brother than live hearing Micah mock him for it. Okay, that was also a lie. He definitely would rather live, as long as his life meant something.

"Jesus," Mitch shook his head, enamored with the competition. "It's crazy." he agreed. Mitch didn't have any formal training, and what training he did have came from playing pretend pirates with the other kids, punching out trees and other dummies in the surrounding forest. Going up against Van Kent's and Delacroix's and shit. Those were names that he heard in history lessons, and news reports. Those were the names of legends (albeit, up-tight legends). Dad went up against big names, too, and he was here now rocking and rolling right along with them. He was pretty up for it. "I kinda like bein a no-name, though. Gives us edge, I think." Mitch grinned. He crossed his arms and flickered his gaze over the expansive room.

Seth's smile didn't waver, letting his eyes linger along the room of the arena once more, even as he could hear the words for what they were. Whether it was a small white fib or a complete omission of truth, he wasn't able to read, but he knew there was something there. After all, Seth practically had lie stacked on top of lie - meaning? He knew them when he fucking saw them. But it hardly served him any to point that out because, as it was? Mitch could damn well come in use later on. Better to have an ally so early in the game.

Laughing, Seth shook his head, letting his mind return back to the mention of competition. Crazy was goddamn right - the last names in this place were enough to leave an impression, that was for sure. Then again, it was a good thing he was determined, hm? Grinning over at the guy, he nodded. "I hadn't really thought of it like that before, but that's true. We're hardly seen as a threat where we are - or at least, I know I'm not." And if you knew Seth? You'd know that little glimmer in his eye was dangerous, sharp enough to make smart people run. Pushing away from the wall, Seth nodded, keeping that all-to-easy smile firmly in place. "But anyways, it was nice meeting you, Mitch. I'll let ya get to it." And with that, he was turning and strolling out of the arena.