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We are Watching six figures hovering in a defensive posture.
Hovering as, well, they are in the Void. It is a miracle they are hovering, and not falling, really. But they are Winners, and they know it. Of course they aren’t falling.
Defensive as, well, they know what’s to come. They are Our favourites after all, but they don’t agree with Us about what counts as fun. But that is for the better. It gives the thrill of Watching an intricate flavour.
We wonder if they are aware of that.
They are.
The wait time between the Games is long, and We like our entertainment.
They’ve formed a circle now, hopelessly trying to get back a sliver of the control they might’ve had in their own games.
They look so very interesting.
Our first Winner glows. He isn’t the only one to do so, but he is the brightest. He has beautiful coloured parrot wings, red with yellow with blue and he is furiously flapping them as if they are the reason he isn’t falling. They are not. If You Look closely, You can See signs that he once denied to join Us, hidden Eyes closed between his feathers. His eyes are two black slivers and he wears a red sweater, too big for his scrawny frame. He does not handle a weapon, instead, his fists are speckled with blood.
If You Look deeper at him, You can see the flames trying to escape his skin. He truly does Look like Our shining Sun.
Our second Winner glows as well, but his is a more focused twinkle. He seems to be besotted with cyan, as his hair, eyes and jacket all share the colour, even if the hue differs. He is stubborn, this Winner. Trying so hard to deny Us during his game, but he still participated. We still love him. He has a arrow nocked into the void, solemnly trying to find something solid in one of Us to shoot it at, but there isn’t. Only outlines of purple Eyes are visible, nothing an arrow can touch.
There are small stars floating around his head, mimicking the sparkles on his skin. Our pretty Stars.
Our third Winner also glows, but her light is a soft silver. It is the only soft thing about her, wolf ears flat against her brown hair and sharp teeth bared. She is clad in red, red which is reflected in her eyes as well. The crescent scar over her eye looks lovingly terrifying. As a gift, We gave her the fang she wears on a cord around her neck. She barked and balked when she realised what it was, but she wears it nonetheless. In her hands she rises a diamond axe, red eyes flashing, as she prepares to strike at the impossible chance one of Us comes close and solid enough to use it. If You Look closer, You can detect a red string around one of her fingers, floating of towards Our second Winner. It will never reach him, of course, as the end of it is singed. It will still never stop trying.
So ferocious, Our sweet scarlet Moon.
Our fourth Winner is ferocious as well. He has a red bandana around his head that You would almost miss amongst the red coral interwoven with his blonde hair, but We See everything. His eyes are red as well. He is still soaked, white blouse and brown jacket clinging against his skin. Not a single drop spills. His gills need water after all. Our Winner is convinced it is blood. He does not care to confirm. There is an impatience in him, lashing out his diamond sword at any perceived sound or movement. There is no sound in the Void, and the only movement is them. We are Watching immovably, but still coercing them to Our will. We don’t even blink.
Even though he is soaked, a trail of dry rusted red dust ticks off of him. He’d look like a red dot from far away, Our violent Mars.
Our fifth Winner is forced volatile. He’s wearing a brown serape, interwoven with sun flowers. His face wears an open, inviting smile but his brown (red glinted) eyes do not replicate it. It summarizes the rest of his look, a hat with more sunflowers and even a chain of daisies on his scarred wrist. There should be no need to specify the scars, as all of him is scarred. This one is talking, like he does, gesturing friendly with his hand. His other hand is hidden behind his back, holding a diamond blade.
There are flowers growing on him now, Our chaotic Earth.
You have to focus to see our sixth and, for just a little while longer, last Winner. She flickers between solid, translucent, nonexistence and solid again, but We can See her in all of her states. In stark contrast of this, her looks are anything but attention hiding. Fierce red hair held back from her face with a pink bandana, a colourful crop-top under again pink leotard. Her green eyes are determined. Her sword might be iron compared to the others diamond, but she does not seem to care. She patiently waits.
Her skin is rotten and stitched together, Our sharp-tongued Pluto.
Together, they make a formidable team. Together, they are so very entrancing to Watch, even if they are already lovely on their own.
We are going to have so much fun again.
They cower under the weight of our Stares an-
-Vvvvrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm-
What was that? As We’ve asserted before there is no sound in the Void. There shouldn’t be-
Our first Winner starts waving. Why is he waving? The other Winners lose their defensive stances and join him. They lose their fear. What?
We follow their gazes.
There is a silver dot in the distance, coming closer, loudly reffing and slaloming between non-existent obstacles. Is that a… car?
We are confused.
There is a man behind the wheel. We recognise him, green streak in his hair and all. Are those… fake muscle bands on his arms?
Is this Our seventh Winner?
While still driving, he, quite unsafely might We add, pushes the whole of his upper body out of the window. He starts shouting.
We are aware of our repetition, but there is no sound in the Void.
“Come on idiots, get in the blumming car already! It is road trip time!”
The other Winners start cheering and whooping. Again, there is no sound in the damn Void!
The car comes screeching into a stop. Our first and fourth Winners argue over shotgun while the sixth steals it. The second Winner is forced into the trunk by the newcomer. The fourth Winner, noticing the stolen shotgun, jumps on the roof instead. The car starts to ref again, all seven passengers laughing loudly. There is a loud “See ya, losers!” from the seventh Winner.
We blink.
The car, leaving a dust trail behind in the damn Void , drives away. There are seven middle fingers pointed at Us, the fourth Winner almost falling of the roof when he tried to point both in the air.
Soon, it is a small speck in the distance, going too fast for Our Gazes to keep up with.
We are confused.