the gauntlet discussion

Each room has 4 lofted beds, 4 dressers/closets, 4 desks, and a lockable cabinet for personal items.

Room Occupants
A - Jamison Augustus
B - Lincoln Knafe
C - Micah Raemer
D - Wyatt Lassiter

note: directly after this

So if Micah didn't hate him already, he'd hate him now for sure. There was always a chance that there'd be a spare towel lying around in the bathroom somewhere, but Mitch figured it would still be pretty hilarious if that was the only piece of 'clothing' avaliable for his shameful trek back to his dorm-room. Where he would find no clothes, because Mitchell Raemer was a genius devil's spawn who'd picked the lock, hadn't gotten caught, and was now rummaged through Micah's closet, shoveling piles of clothes into his arms. He was debating whether or not he could find a good hiding spot in the room, that way he wouldn't have to drag it all into his dorm and horde it there, but the room was as un-hidable as his own. Maybe he should've planned this out better. He didn't know how long Micah's showers usually lasted, but he was getting weird tingly vibes that he was running short on time. Maybe being in the same building as Micah was giving him twin telepathy-esq powers. That'd be cool. He'd call that a win. Not only did he have the given stuff -- air elemental, holla -- but he'd have the mind stuff, too. He'd be a freak. But one of those cool freaks, not the actual freaks that people made fun of.

Micah was not happy, no he fucking wasn't. That piece of shit had something to do with his clothes and towel disappearing, he just knew it. Luckily for him, he managed to swipe some random's towel and didn't have to walk butt naked back to his dorm. He had gotten some weird stares on his way back and he cursed Mitchell for what seemed like the hundredth time. His brother had been making his life impossible. First, people had taken to called him by his surname, not that he would have cared , had it not been for the fact that they did it so they didn't accidentally call him Mitch. Seriously, did he have douchebag written on his forehead, or something? Because, sure he might have the same face as his brother, but that's where the similarities ended. Like day and night and anyone who said else wise doesn't know what they're talking about. Secondly, he had been given some death stares this morning from some random girl. She might be a lot shorter than he was, but those were stares that could kill him on the spot. And somehow, he knew. He knew that it was because of Mitchell. Micah sighed as he saw his dorm room come into sight, just wanting to get changed and take a nap before going for some training. Training helped him think, thinking would help with plotting revenge against Mitch and his dumb face. He was a little surprised to find the door open but figured one of the others had just forgotten to lock the door. What he found instead, was way worse. He scowled slightly, but before Mitch could look at him, he fixed his lips into an amused smile. Nothing would aggravate him more than knowing he wasn't affected by his dumb prank. Seriously it had been kind of lame. Amateur shit. "Hello brother."

Mitch was caught between cursing and congratulating himself; he'd totally known that Micah was coming, those twin powers were real as shit if you asked him. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to rightfully remove all of Micah's clothes before his twin had returned. What kind of showers was this boy taking? Mitch doubted that Micah had the luxury of long showers back at home anymore than he ever had-- why the hell wasn't he taking advantage of it? He knew that the next time he hopped under the water he'd prune before getting out. "Hey, Mic." Mitch greeted, flashing a charming smile. His eyes trailed down Micah's frame -- no he was not checking his brother out, but, come on, it was like having a personal, walking mirror -- and struggled to keep his laughter in check. "Rocking the towel," the older twin complimented sarcastically. "Are they in style this season? Or are you trying to start a new trend?" Mitch dropped the bundle of clothes on his toes, dancing his hands through the air like he were painting a rainbow, or sculpting a sign, "New this month: Micah Raemer's spring fashion do's and don't. Do: eazy, breezy, and beautiful." He was definitely laughing now.

"What can I say? I have to show off the body I was given, God has shined nicely on me, wouldn't you say?" Micah replied, not missing a beat that his brother had been checking him out. Did it count though? They had the exact same body, down to the smallest detail, like the tiny mole on the inside of their left arm. He quickly closed the space between them, snatching a pair of boxers and shorts from his brothers feet and putting them on. He wouldn't have put it past Mitch to grab his towel while he was still naked. "How long has it been Mitch? Ten years? Ten years and you're still playing the same old pranks. Honestly, it's a bit of a disappointment. "The good thing about having a twin though, is that no one is completely sure which one of us just walked through the hallway half naked. I'm sure you've taken advantage of that. Considering the fact that I've been glared at by a small girl and some people have been talking about of too the Raemer twins tackling someone." He smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard,"Watch your step, brother mine. I tried playing nice but you just started a war,"Micah couldn't resist, he pushed Mitch, and this time there was no mom or dad to make him stop.

"Fourteen." Mitchell responded immediately. He distinctly remembers being ten the last time he saw his brother, so unless there was a time that he was blocking out when they were fourteen-years-old, Micah couldn't count properly. "Actually, it's only been about a few hours," he supplied technically. "Since I saw you during the competition. Ya know, before I totally kicked your ass." Just fifteen minutes ago Mitch was admitting to Dan that Pierce had nearly beat him, but that was a mute point in this particular conversation; in this conversation, Mitch could do no wrong. The older twin smirked, crossing his arms nonchalantly. "You're right," he admitted shortly, "They have no idea, but if it gets me a bed-mate, who am I to complain? You did all the dirty work, and I can just sit back and enjoy. Also, I'd watch out for that one. She's out to get you for what you did." Because obviously Mitch hadn't done anything wrong, and it wasn't something that he planned on owning up too. He'd pushed some many people out of the way during the competition that he wasn't even sure he entirely remembered this small glaring woman. He hoped she pushed him back next time-- he'd be excited to have the rivalry. "Oooh, we're five again. Push him and maybe he'll cry." Mitch steadied himself before shoving back, putting some force into it. He rammed his shoulder into Micah's chest, forcing him backward nearly tripped while steadying himself. "If you're gonna declare war, Mic, you're gonna have to actually fight. Fighting is my specialty, so I suggest you put your back into it."

"Aww, that's cute, you remember exactly the last time you saw me was. I didn't know you had missed me so much, little brother," Micah answered cheekily, smiling at him. Oh that's right, he had won the bragging right of being the oldest, he was born first. And it had to be true, considering he had lived with the woman who gave birth to them his entire life. "Who cares about some silly race? Besides it's only the first competition and I was just warming up." Oh, he knew exactly what place Mitch came in and his time. He had beaten him by a little less than three minutes which was a bummer but he hadn't been tackling people to get a better time. Mitch obviously couldn't win without playing cleanly. Loser. "The only reason someone would sleep with you is because they think you're me,"He rolled his eyes. Micah wasn't as interested as Mitch about sleeping with someone. He had more refined tastes, obviously. Mitch would have sex with a dog. "Actually I'll make sure to send Dae your way," Everyone knew that boy would flirt with anything attractive and considering that Mitchell looked exactly like him, he wasn't above admitting that he himself was pretty fine. Micah couldn't help the chortle of laughter that escaped when Mitch nearly tripped when he pushed him, and then proceeded to threaten him with a fight. "You were always such a baby, crying for mom or dad all the time." Not because they fought, because apparently they had gotten along amazingly when they were younger but Mitch had always gotten himself into bigger trouble than he could handle. "You shouldn't speak without thinking," And that was all the warning he was getting before Micah tackled his brother, slamming Mitch's back into the closet and punching him for the stupid prank, the glares from that girl, AND for beating him in the race. Asshole.

"JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST." Mitch complained loudly between Micah's fists. The older twin snatched his brother's arm mid-swing, rerouting it into the closet's very solid side. Where the fuck did Micah learn to play dirty? And if he was willing, then he must be shit at it because he still hadn't made the top five. Loser. Mitch kneed his brother in the groin and shoved him away. "Asshole." he huffed under his breath, struggling to keep his nose from bleeding. His cheek was aching, too, which meant that he'd be seeing some serious bruising well up in the next few minutes. Black, blue, and purple would distinguish him from his twin for a little while. Not long hopefully. Mitch released his nose, hissing as the definitely broken bone lost all the pressure holding it together; he rooted Micah's foot to the floor by squishing it beneath his, and took a well-deserved swing at him. It connected with his face hard enough to make Mitch's knuckles hurt. There. Now he was sporting the same colors as him; twin's once more, it seems. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I had Dan swipe your clothes, but I will admit that that felt pretty damn good. We look good in black n' blue."

God, all this time and Mitchell was still a damn baby. Why couldn't he just take a beating quietly? God, annoying ass. Micah had taken a second to admire his artwork on Mitch's face when he felt pain explode into his hand. "God dammit!" He yelled, not having enough time to pull his hand back when he was kneed in the groin. "Fucking, shit!" He hissed, trying to ignore the pain before he was stopped in place by another foot and a fist to his cheek. Jesus, that one hurt. Turns out Mitch wasn't bad at fighting, huh? But he had to resort to cheap tricks. What a fucking loser, that mean the sucked more than he let on. And the loser just let it slip who helped him take his clothes. He would store that little tidbit away for later, but back to the matter at hand. Micah wasted no time in kicking Mitch in the knee, watching as he went down. This time he rooted him to the floor by smashing his left foot into his hand and delivering a very satisfying knee to his face. "I don't know, I think red might look best on you,"He replied smugly as he took in the blood running down Mitchell's broken nose. There was a throbbing on his cheek, but it was well worth for beating down his little brother.

Cassie. Was. Pissed. Not only had she not gotten any sleep last night because she was dreading her punishment, but after actually going to it? She couldn't have been more outraged. She had met the time limit for the competition by like two minutes, but did that matter? No, because she was just shy of like 24th place. And what the fuck was cleaning the bathrooms even? She would rather die in the Gauntlet before she had to hand-clean another fucking shower drain. Well, maybe not, but this was ridiculous.

So, being in that she was in a pissed off mood, Cassie just figured, hey, take a nap, you'll feel better. But could she sleep? No. Because all she could hear was banging from down the hall, and two voices shouting at each other nonstop. On a normal day, Cass wouldn't care. She'd let them handle their business, kill each other even, if that's what they wanted. But today? Today was the wrong day to fuck with Cassandra Harris' sleep.

Cassie didn't knock, she barged right into their room like the angry tornado she was, she flung the door open so hard it made a loud banging sound on someone's dresser (there might have been a crack), she couldn't care less. Too small of a pajama shirt with too big of sweatpants, grumpy, and pissed beyond all belief. To them, she probably looked like a small, crazy girl -- but the rage in her eyes, yikes. "SHUT THE FUCK UP. No one would sleep with either of you, NEITHER of you look good in black, blue, or red, and NO ONE ELSE wants to hear you argue about it! Shut. The. Fuck. UP!"

So these were the twins.

"Who the fuck...?" Mitch garbled, sounding confused. Who in fuck's name was this little girl? Where did she even come from? He had several responses in mind -- you'd sleep with me; black is more my color; etc. -- but he said none of them. Instead, Mitch's eyes took to their corners, looking up at Micah with thought. He was still massaging his jaw, trying to get the pain in his face to go away, but let go to stab his fingers into the back of his brother's knee, taking him by the hem of the shirt and dragging him to the ground when his fist connected with the underside of his chin. Mitch staggered to his feet, shaking his hand out angrily (but also smugly). He spat ew at Micah's feet, before wiping the blood from under his nose. "Do us both a favor, pewe, and stay out of it." Mitch said to Cassie, moving her out of his way with a shove of the shoulder. He didn't much care that she was a women, it really didn't matter to him one way or another, but it was sort of cute that she thought she was scary.

One second Micah was busy staring down Mitch and the next he was looking at an angry, small woman. Seriously, what the fuck was up with this place and small women with bad tempers? My god. Unfortunately he had gotten a little too distracted by the blonde and found himself on the floor with another pain in his chin. Shit. He scowled as he watched Mitchell shove the girl away and he slowly made his way too his feet. "Fucking Mitchell," He growled, watching him stalk away before he remembered the blonde hurricane still in his room. Shit. He didn't suppose she would just leave now; would she? Hopefully. Whatever not his problem. "Do you mind?" He asked her as he turned and casually put on his shirt and started to put everything back in his closet. Stupid Mitch just had to take his shit out. He was so immature, no wonder Micah was the older twin.

Mitch not thinking Cassie was a threat to his wellbeing? Big mistake. She stood there with her hands on her hips, and about .2 seconds after he had shoulder checked her -- well, that's about when the final piece of her sanity checked out for the weekend.

Cass reached around and grabbed the crotch of Mitch's pants — hard, like maybe he won’t be able to reproduce in the future, hard — and squeezed just enough so he doubled down in pain to her level. Good, he was closer to her mouth, so maybe he would fucking listen. The thing she hated about this school the most was how little people seemed to be taking her seriously, and you know what? She was sick of it. She squeezed him a little harder, feeling him buckle down a tad further. “Now, let’s not misunderstand this situation as me hitting on you, because that would be a terrible misconception on your part. I am not attempting to ‘get into it’ or whatever, I would like to stay out of it. So keep it out of my fucking radius of hearing, OK?"

She unclenched her hand, wiping it down the side of her pants. Gross. "And by the way, my name is Cassandra. Room five. Don't go near it. And what the fuck, do you mind? Take it outside next time, there's this thing called the training center?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes and went back to her room, muttering about ungrateful and annoying boys the entire time it took her to get there.

Knowing that he would not be walking right for the rest of the day, Mitch threw Micah a very concealed look of irritation, "Shut up." he huffed before his twin could say anything demeaning. They were definitely both thinking it; he'd just gotten man-handed by a girl half his size. Pathetic. Pathetic and totally unfair. How was he supposed to know that shortstack would grab his balls and squeeze? Talk about playing dirty. Regularly, he would've admired her gusto, but today was a very different day it seems. As he was the one getting it handed too him. Doing something smart for the first time in his life, Mitch didn't start another fight- either with his brother, or by going after her. In fact, if he could help it, he'd stay away from tornado bitch for the rest of his goddamn life. So he left, taking the long way round because otherwise he'd walk right past room five.