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DAY 1 — AFTERMATH AND SURVIVAL

Dawn breaks over a battered clearing. The Cornucopia’s wreckage glitters in the morning light — scorched tents, broken crates, an odd scattering of pipis and confetti — and the survivors ripple out into the surrounding woods: some limping, some limber, all wary.

The First Light: Scattering & Claiming

A handful of tributes treat the field like a battlefield; others treat it like a market day. Gear is redistributed, alliances are born, and grudges begin to harden.

Near the stream, Oliver is crouched with Cassie and Sector, muttering over a snagged harness.

Oliver: “Okay, this looks like a decent pack. Sector, can you glass-ify it into a… uh, lighter version?”

Sector (simple, thrilled): “GLASS.” (turns into a shimmering tray and back)

Cassie (half-asleep, rolling her shoulders): “If you keep talking we’re never leaving before midnight. Do the ritual, get the knot to hold.”

Oliver: “Got it. Cassie, I’ll protect you. Sector will… be glassy.”

Their trio leaves the stream with a patchwork of new supplies and a mutual, bickering comfort that looks oddly like trust.

At the tree line, Spy moves like a rumor — invisible, polite, and razor-sharp. He picks at pouches and pockets, leaves a fake coin where a real one was, whispers a mistaken direction that sends a small group the wrong way. His charm is knives wrapped in silk.

Spy (muttering, amused): “They never miss an opportunity to panic.”

In the waist-high grass, Grimm and Biowaffe-1917 patrol different lanes of menace. Grimm teleports to high branches and drops volleys of bats to corral prey; Biowaffe stalks through mud-smudged trenches, eyes blank but his blade-arm humming with cold intent.

A pair of tributes arguing over a canteen notice the shadow of Grimm above and run — and Biowaffe simple raises his blade. Nobody wants to be in that line of sight.

Random Tribute (panting): “Which way— which way—”

Grimm (low, theatrical): “Any way that keeps me entertained.”

Dusty claims a ridge and summons a cluster of Minecraft Creakings. The skittering things are small distractions that cause two separate skirmishes when they latch onto ankles and trip people into one another.

Dusty (grinning): “A little chaos goes a long way.”

Nearby, Stormy scoffs and shoots one of the critters out of the air with a single, contemptuous shot.

Stormy: “Not today, Dusty. Keep your creepers.”

Parcelboy sits cross-legged under a leaning pylon and opens and closes parcels like a gambler with nervous hands. Weapons, a bright scarf that looks suspiciously useful for camouflage, and a small flask that smells strongly of something sticky and sweet.

Parcelboy: “One of these has to be a grenade, right?”

A parcel pops confetti. Parcelboy blinks and shrugs — then pockets a small crossbow and a handful of bolts.

Scampton is in his own reality loop, wandering in circles and setting tiny traps that look like carnival games. Each trap emits an 8-bit jingle and either trips an opponent or, wonderfully, dispenses a worthless trinket that causes the next combatant to hesitate in bewilderment.

Scampton (shouting): “[ENTER THE MINI-GAME] OR FACE THE [PENALTY]!”

A duelist stops to press a glowing button. A squeaky toy pops out and distracts everyone for exactly twelve chaotic seconds.

Divide is a concentrated storm of motion — small, fast, cutting. He’s been practicing with his gems, testing how they interact with the terrain; he slices a net out of a vine, then grows chains from the forest floor to trap a lone hunter’s leg.

Divide (breathless, to himself): “Not today, not today, not today.”

Skrunkly, Spunch Bob, and Goobert operate on a different wavelength: they create chaos without malice. Skrunkly zips through a skirmish, tangling legs and throwing off aim with a manic giggle; Spunch Bob bounces in, scoops up a dropped fishing spear, then giggles and hands it to someone bleeding out — who looks at him like he’s lost his mind but accepts the help anyway. Goobert eats a lollipop and sits on a stump, watching the madness with bright, trusting eyes.

Goobert: “:3”

Yujiro exists as a storm that everyone senses: when he moves, birds stop mid-flight. Someone sees him approaching and opts to run; someone else makes the fatal decision to stand and throw a spear. The spear bounces off Yujiro’s forearm like a toothpick.

Yujiro (calm): “Don’t teach me manners.”

Springtrap keeps to the shadows, planting small mechanical devices he seems to have cobbled from the Cornucopia’s wreckage — a whispering speaker here, a half-broken spring there. The devices make children’s laughter bleed into the woods. A hunter freezes at the sound and notices Springtrap’s yellowed eye at the edge of his lantern’s glow.

Springtrap (soft metallic voice): “Listen.”

Lazarus and Sasha find a clearing and set up a tiny camp. Lazarus drums a slow, steady tattoo on a hollow log; Sasha strums a low chord. The music is both camouflage and morale-raising — a heartbeat for the afraid. Several exhausted tributes edge closer under the pretense of peddling supplies, and end up staying to listen.

Lazarus: “Play something steady. People keep showing up.”

Sasha: “You got it.”

Buster Keaton is everywhere without being seen; he dodges traps as if the world is a rubber stage. Twice he intercepts falling debris that would have crippled the neck of a runner; he tips a hat and keeps moving.

Pablo is occasionally there and then not, like a punctuation mark in the forest.

Mr AntTenna sets a small perimeter of blinky lights and minigame projectors he refuses to stop deploying. A hapless fighter gets sealed briefly in a capsule for a “bonus round” and returns disoriented, clutching a rubber chicken. Mr AntTenna is incandescent with showmanship.

Midday Tension: Alliances, Accidents, and Strategies

People split into three rough schools of play: Predators, Tacticians, and Survivors.

Predators (Yujiro, Biowaffe, Grimm, Springtrap) hunt aggressively; their presence forces others to hug tree-lines and stay inside cover.

Tacticians (Spy, Parcelboy, Stranger, Divide) lay traps, misdirection, and theft. They bargain, connive, and swap information.

Survivors (Oliver’s group, Lazarus+Sasha, Goobert & friends, Spunch Bob, Skrunkly) focus on shelter, food, and psychological support.

Conversation by the river:

Random Survivor: “If we try to outfight Yujiro we die, right?”

Spy (arching an eyebrow; calm): “Then do not fight him. Steal his provisions. Make him search for things that are not there.”

Oliver: “I can distract him with noise, Cassie can… do a ritual to make him look the other way—”

Cassie (yawning): “Fine, but it better be quick.”

A small skirmish near the berry thicket results when two groups mistake each other for a predator. Scampton launches a Pipis barrage that accidentally knocks over a cooking pot; the ensuing fire is put out before it spreads, but the commotion draws attention. In that chaos, Spy lifts a knife and a crossbow and quietly pockets both.

Scampton (giddy): “[SCORE!]”

Afternoon: Wounds, Rations, and Weirdness

A few minor injuries — scraped arms, a broken wrist, a shallow slash — get bandaged with improvised first aid. Parcelboy trades a healing salve for a handful of bolts. Sasha plays a chord progression that eases trembling hands; his music is literally stabilizing morale.

Sasha: “One for calm, one for the heart.”

Lazarus (softly): “Keep time.”

Dusty’s creeakings keep everyone on edge; they’re nuisance-level threats that cause misfires and missed steps. Stormy keeps picking off the smaller skitterers while grinning like a cat who got the last word.

A brief but tense stand-off occurs at a fallen log when Yujiro and Grimm face each other. Grimm summons a short burst of nightmare flame, which Yujiro laughs at — then demonstrates precisely why most people do not laugh at Yujiro for long. The stand-off ends with all parties leaving bruised but intact; both predators respect the other’s hunger.

Grimm (amused): “Good. I prefer a show.”

Yujiro (smiling): “I prefer satisfaction.”

Dusk Approaches: Quiet Before the New Blood

As the light thins, people bury their dead (if they found any), set watch rotations, and whisper plans for Day 2. The forest hums with frogs, and someone starts a small, tinny campfire — not enough to be a signal, but enough to share warmth.

Divide sits atop a stump, sorting gem fragments, humming to himself. Spy moves like a sliver of shadow, turning up once to swap a bar of dried meat to Oliver for a schematic that “might make a good trap.” Mr AntTenna invents a tiny daytime variety show at the edge of camp to keep morale high; half the camp groans, half the camp giggles.

🔔 NOTABLE EVENTS — DAY 1

These are the distinct moments that other tributes will talk about in whispers long after the sun disappears.

1) The Pipis Panic

Scampton accidentally detonates a cluster of Pipis under a pile of crates. The mini-explosion sends glitter and rubber shards across the clearing; three people trip into each other and a previously unnoticed cache of extra rations is spilled. Parcelboy scoops up half the food, then gives a few awkward pieces to a wounded woman.

Scampton (proud): “[CONSUMABLES ACQUIRED!]”

2) Yujiro vs Grimm — The Standoff

A tense, cinematic face-off that ends in an uneasy mutual retreat. They exchange a few flourished blows and show that neither is eager to waste energy right now — both are saving appetite for later.

Crowd afterwards: “They circled like predators. No one touched them after that.”

3) Spy’s Quiet Theft

Under the cover of the Pipis confusion, Spy lifts an impressive array of weaponry and a small but important charm that belonged to Cassie — she only noticed when Oliver pointed out the missing ribbon. Spy leaves a fake ribbon as a courtesy.

Spy (smirking, to himself): “Always polite.”

4) The Capsule Mini-Game

Mr AntTenna’s gadget seals a dangerous scavenger in a bright capsule for sixty heart-stopping seconds. People gather to watch; the trapped tribute appears on-screen doing interpretive gymnastics to avoid being terrified. When the capsule opens, the person emerges shaken — and oddly in possession of a rubber chicken and a tiny battery that turns out to be useful later.

Mr AntTenna: “That’s showbiz, baby!”

5) The Apple-Fritter Tease

Someone — a cruel, anonymous voice from beyond the trees — teases the line with the smell of an apple fritter. Yujiro twitches. A group of tributes scatter as if a horn had been blown, and the scent of fried pastry lingers like a taunt.

Yujiro (quietly: focused): “Where.”

The source is never found. The day ends with Yujiro more watchful than before.

🌒 END OF DAY — NEW BLOOD ARRIVES

Just as the survivors are settling into their watch rotations, two figures appear at the edge of the firelight — a late reaping or a scheduled twist from the Capitol, depending on how you like to believe in chaos.

They step into the glow, and the camp goes suddenly alert.

CMP Goober (Collect My Pages)

He strolls in with the kind of oblivious confidence that looks like it belongs to someone who has never met consequences. Femboy vibe, hair falling artistically across his face, and pockets stuffed with worn pages.

CMP Goober (waving, grinning): “Hi!! I’m CMP Goober! Does anyone have a binder??”

Oliver (shouting, cheerfully): “We have like, six binders! Come here!”

Cassie (squinting): “What do you do?”

CMP Goober (shrugging): “I… collect pages. Also I get lucky? That’s my thing.” He taps his pockets. One page flutters out — a small list of improbable luck-based outcomes (lost arrow returns to owner, sour berries taste like stew, etc.). A near-miss of lightning hits a nearby branch and ignites it — but it flares out immediately. Everyone stares. CMP Goober smiles bashfully.

CMP Goober: “Oops. Heh. Lucky.”

Shovel Man

A shining figure in armor strides up behind CMP Goober, hugging a large, gleaming shovel to his chest as if it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Shovel Man (voice like hammered iron): “Is this the camp? I’m looking for my shovel.”

Oliver (blink): “That is a very pretty shovel.”

Shovel Man (solemn): “It is named Scoopheart.” (kneels, cradles the shovel) “I will defend it.”

He raises the shovel ceremoniously. The camp gives a half-laugh, half-applause. Yujiro doesn’t look up. Springtrap tilts its head. The shovel is real, heavy with ritual reverence; when he swings it casually to demonstrate, the ground rocks a little.

Shovel Man: “I fight with a shovel. I can dig. I can sweep. I collect grudges.”

Camp Reaction & First Exchanges

A few people move to greet the new pair: Oliver and Cassie wave them over; Spy studies them from the treeline; Divide scuttles close to test whether CMP Goober’s luck is a trick.

CMP Goober (to Divide): “Want a page? It’s like… for luck. I’m not dangerous.”

Divide (suspicious, twitching): “IF I’M CUT, IT BETTER NOT BE A PRANK.”

Shovel Man (solemnly): “I will not let anyone touch you while I have Scoopheart.”

Parcelboy (eyeing the shovel): “Can that shovel fit in a parcel?”

Parcelboy tosses a small crate toward Shovel Man as a "welcome gift." Shovel Man bounces it back, gently, like a ball.

Shovel Man: “I appreciate gestures.”

Final Moment Before Night

The new arrivals are integrated awkwardly but visibly. CMP Goober hands out a few pages — one that somehow causes a lost hat to reappear on its owner’s head, another that makes river water taste less like water. People laugh. Wounds feel a touch less raw. Shovel Man sits with his shovel at the ready, tapping a rhythm.

Oliver: “Welcome to the family? I mean, the forced survival thing.”

CMP Goober (grinning): “Yay!”

Shovel Man (nodding quietly): “I am here to keep Scoopheart safe. And you, if necessary.”

Yujiro (from the darkness, dry): “Keep the shovel away from me.”

Shovel Man (smiles): “I will.”

Night settles with new breath in the woods. The watch rotates. Distant, faint music — Lazarus and Sasha late-night playing — drifts like an odd lullaby. The survivors mumble plans for the morning, and two new presences curl into the story: one improbably lucky and page-laden, the other solemn, shovel-obsessed, and steady.