Master of My Fate: Captain of My Soul [91st Finale]

[lance]

Names give power. It's how Storm knows that the three kids he'd killed in single combat alongside his friend were named December and Cordelia and Cachimorro instead of Seven and One and Ten.

Twelve gives his name as Tex and nearly gouges flesh, muscle, and veins alike out of Storm's arm. There's no maintaining the stony exterior now - he howls to the heavens his pain, his rage, his fear.

But he'd been here before. Cordelia had nearly offed him. Cachimorro had kept it close. He'd prevailed, both times.

And for all of his bravado, Storm Adroxis doesn't fear death. Not truly, he thinks. He fears dying, sure. That's why he fights on, why he backs up, thanks whatever higher power exists for the umpteenth time that he's left-handed and that this strike won't cripple him even if he's seriously doubting that he'll ever be able to use his right arm again, and refocuses a now feverish gaze on Twelve.

No. Tex.

"Names, huh," he gasps, and oh, he is not liking the way he's forced to lean on Nowles' blade, digging it into the dirt, to stand. "Makes sense. Nobody remembers my ancestor, the one that won a hundred years ago or some shit." He coughs, and ah, fuck, there's the dreaded iron taste. "But everyone knows that Adroxis is still the name of the first Victor that ever came from Nine."

Inhale, exhale. Air still works. Lungs still function. He can still do this, cause it's not over until his soul has left his body and he's lying six feet underground.

"So if that's the case." Cough. "Lemme introduce myself, properly."

Heave. Sword sends dirt spraying.

"I'm Storm Adroxis, from District Nine."

Inhale.

"And if I die here today, Tex-"

Exhale-

"-you're gonna remember it for the rest of your fuckin' life!"

Swing.

storm attacks tex; bone sword

49xNBxY1dXsword

1036 -- Severed Right Hand at Wrist -- 9.0 damage

sword

[pogue]

On what he knows is his final stand he draws blood up from the surface of Storm's body, spear trembling in his grasp and emptiness sitting in his shadow. Tex gasps in pain even as he watches Storm stumble backwards with his own name written in red on his form, Tex's spear stained red in the sunlight and trembling in loose wrist. His body falls apart once and for all as he looks at his opponent, feels his pain and feels nothing but hollow soul. A cough ricochets up his throat as he looks at his opponent, hollow soul and bloody howl dribbling along his lips as he stumbles backwards, hardly manages to catch himself with his spear slammed into the ground once more, empty, a hollow yell on his lips. 

He feels sick, watches as red and purple fade from his view and are replaced with nothing but black spots on the edge of his vision, dancing cruelly, endlessly in the sunlight, bringing pain and disgust up the surface and writing it into his bones.

It's before he can think to move that Storm drives his sword into his hand once more, carves another deep wound just under his wrist and Tex howls in his own pain, his own coffin, his own emptiness, his own promise fulfilled. He feels himself slipping now, into the void and into what he deserves, tingling limbs and ghosts pressing into his shoulders as he he hardly manages to steady his posture once more, shock setting into his system and the bdoy of a broken boy getting ready for his last stand, to be forgotten, to strike out in empty pain and receive nothing in response.

'Names, huh." And Tex nods in resolution, can't manage to find the words anymore. 

"But everyone knows that Adroxis is still the first Victor that ever came from Nine."

And it sinks like a knife, stabbed into his stomach and carved red in the sunlight. He knows his fate now, knows Storm's too, knows what it means to be alive and what it means to die. "And if I die here, today." 

"Go ahead, Storm." He hears himself mutter. "Take what is yours."

"-you're gonna remember it for the rest of your fuckin' life!"

He meets Storm's final charge with one of his own, halfway in his coffin but still fucking alive.

[Tex attacks Storm ; Spear]

IwnYKZU6GFspear

[Result]

spear

[lance]

They make it look easy, severing limbs. Just strike with all of your might and push and suddenly boom, there's a hand or an arm or sometimes an entire fucking leg or head just flying through the air, free from its boney constraints.

And Storm doesn't know if it's him weakening, or the sword being dull, or if the entire thing is just a load of shit, but for the second time, he cuts into Tex's hand so deeply he thinks maybe. Maybe he got the crippling blow. Maybe he got the winning strike. Maybe he can go home now and forget all of this, if only for a minute.

Go ahead, Storm. It's Tex's words, echoing in his own head, the same head that's pounding and hurting but he's so so so fucking close-

Take what is yours.

"I will, thank you," he spits, venom and crimson alike staining his teeth red and purple.

And don't worry, Tex, he adds silently.

I won't be able to forget you if I tried.

One final chance. One final strike.

And as he swings, Storm screams an ungodly scream.

storm attacks tex; bone sword

vRtn72Wnbvsword

1068 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage

sword

[lance]

s t o r m .

"you are weak
but not foolish
you have learned
how to die."

He screams, and he screams, and he screams some more, as if daring death itself to face him down personally and claim him personally for its own collection of slaughtered children.

But eventually, he runs out of breath. And slowly, he begins to realize.

He realizes that in the midst all of his screaming, Tex from Twelve hadn't taken advantage of his prone form, left wide open to a counter in the face of a last-ditch hail mary.

He realizes, upon turning, that the last of the purple has receded from the boy from Twelve's veins, leaving him looking oddly...

human.

He realizes, for the final time, that perhaps the purple had its own lesson intermixed here, that maybe, Tex from Twelve needed to overcome his own self-barriers in order to truly break free.

He realizes that it's a load of bullshit when Tex from Twelve instead crumples to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

He realizes, belatedly, after the sound of a cannon, before the announcement over the speakers, that he's done it.

He's done it.

He did it.

"I did it," he whispers, reverently, disbelief rendering him silenced that, after so many days of almost, there was no more almost.

He had done it.

Storm Adroxis, fourteen years old, class clown, professional prankster, sixth of seven children of Mourn and Esther, one of many scions to the legacy of the first ever Victor to hail from District Nine, had brought things around full circle.

"I did it, he repeats, louder, still not believing it, still waiting for the hammer to drop. That Tex from Twelve will suddenly stand up good as new, brush himself off, looking like a normal, proper teenage boy instead of one hollowed out by a dangerous drug, and say "Well, that was a good warmup."

That maybe this was all some sort of dream, that Willem and December and Cordelia and Cachimorro and Carly and so many others were in fact still alive, still frolicking about in the training center, still making their plans and alliances and pacts to get them through the Games just a little bit longer. Or, better yet, it'd go back even further, and it was the day after the Reaping, and each and every one of them were still safe in their homes, unaware of the nightmare that Storm's own imagination had conjured up.

He pinches himself with his free hand, hard. He does not wake up.

He slaps himself on the face, right under his destroyed and bandaged ear, once, twice. He does not wake up.

The announcer's voice blares everywhere at once, deafeningly loud, proudly presenting Storm Adroxis, Victor of the Ninety First Hunger Games!

And still, he does not wake up.

"I did it," he repeats a third time, but it's choked, muffled, nine days of stifled emotions washing over him all at once now that his body, if not his mind, has registered the truth.

He did it. Against all odds, Storm had won. Won the fight, won the struggle, won the Games.

Against all odds, he was going home.

The helicarrier finds him like that, fallen to his knees, fingers gripped around his sword so tight his knuckles have gone pale, great heaving sobs wracking his body, fat wet tears streaming down his face in torrents.

One month ago, being broadcast in such a state would have embarrassed him so badly he'd have spent a week locked up in his room until the nation's attention had moved on to other things.

Today? Well, today, Storm couldn't care less.

Because today, he wasn't joining the ranks of ninety others who'd come so close, come right up to the very edge of the crown, and then fumbled the last step, falling forever into death and obscurity.

No. Today, he would rise as Victor of the Hunger Games.

Today, he'd rise as himself, Storm Adroxis of District Nine, a boy with his second chance at life rightfully earned.

elegant

♔ END OF THE NINETY-FIRST HUNGER GAMES ♔

Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow. Even now, a full day after I rolled that final attack and claimed the victory, it's still completely and utterly surreal that I'm here, having written the very last post I'll write in these Games - not as someone who'd just lost their tribute and are wrapping up a satisfying end to their story, but as someone whose journey with that very tribute is just beginning. After fifteen go-arounds in these here Hunger Games without winning, I'd honestly lost hope that I'd ever get here to the very end with a victor of my own. But hey, turns out sixteenth time was in fact the charm, and holy shit I still can't quite believe it.

But this isn't just about me. Yes, I won, but I could never have gotten here, after seven plus years on this site, sixteen games as a tribute, two games as a Gamemaker, without this entire community existing and bringing me in and supporting me and loving me, and I am so incredibly honored to have gotten to this peak of the site experience and to get to continue to write this chaotic boy that I have grown to love and adore for the next decades of his life. And to all of you that read Storm and supported me in the DMs along the way, I truly thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Now, onto the individual call-outs;

gamemaker kelsier : Hi fam! I just cannot start out with anyone else but you, for even though you weren't in these games yourself (and a damn tragedy that was), Storm literally would not have been here without you paving the way with Babe so many IC years ago. You've been a wonderful friend, a fantastic mentor with Avriel, and easily one of Storm's biggest supporters right from the very beginning on Reaping Day till now, where we've been gushing about Storm and all of the connections he has with your characters for a day straight and likely will for many more after this, so for all of that, I thank you with all of my heart and I love you so much. (And personally, I cannot wait to overcome Calla as your most-threaded writing partner uwu)

lucius branwen / 10 — fox : Hey you! Willem throughout the Games was easily the person that Storm had the deepest and most meaningful connection with throughout his experience, from the very beginning in the swimming pool to the very end in the mouth of the cave. Willem's care and selflessness are easily the main reason that Storm got out of this in one piece mentally as well as physically, and moreso than anyone else he was both Storm's rock and his Achilles' heel throughout the Games as well. I know I've said this many times but I'll continue saying it again - thank you so much for joining me on this wonderful journey, and thank you so much for being a wonderful friend who supported Storm so much throughout the whole experience as well. (And don't worry, now that I have all the time in the world to write this boi, I'll get to work on filling in our fight fillers asap owo).

pogue : I just want to thank you personally and deeply for helping me craft a wonderful finale out of this final thread of ours. I know that you and I don't always get along all that well (in fact I think this whole experience was the longest that we've ever had an ongoing dialogue with each other LOL) but I can truly say that I wouldn't have wanted to finish this experience off with anyone else. Tex in many ways reflected Storm and had a lot in common with him, and no matter how this ended he was the most fitting final opponent that I could have asked for, and he has more than made his mark on Storm for the rest of his days.

k!ah and marguerite harvard d2a (zori) : Surprise, you two are getting lumped in together because really, it's only fitting after you first traversed the entire arena in such a fashion and then crossed words and swords alike with me one after another, right? Both of my 1v1s with each of you were so iconic and will be amongst some of my favorite fight threads in my entire site history for many reasons - Kiah, you already know how much I adored Cordelia and am so glad that we got to have one of the most passive-aggressive IC fights in Games history, and Zori, thank you for Cachimorro and his unyielding positive outlook towards life even when literally fighting to avenge his friend (Storm will never look at rainbows the same way again.) I'd better see y'all as tributes of mine next time around!

tick 12a / calla : MOM I DID IT!!! Man, you really gave the title of Storm's Biggest Supporter TM a fight, to the point where I'm still not sure who holds that title between you and Ele currently LOL. But exact semantics aside, thank you thank you for your constant words of encouragement from behind the scenes, and for providing some excellent foreshadowing for Storm's journey into the Games proper way back at Nowles' own selection last Games. Truly, it means a lot to have your support in my corner, and I love you so so much and cannot wait to write Storm both with his mom but also with Eden as well! Ahhhhhhhhhh.

Arrows : Hey, you bottom, betcha didn't think I'd get to turn things around on you this quickly, huh? Good thing I'm verse and like it both ways Imeanwhat? But seriously, you've always been one of my most vocal supporters and one of my biggest rocks both on and off the site, and this time around was no different (even when I was neglecting my Jesse responses to u bc I was stressing too hard about the Games - rest assured that will be rectified very very soon teehee). Truly, thank you so much for being one of my closest friends on the site, thank you so much for all of your support throughout these Games and the past ones, and I am so so very excited to be back-to-back victor pals with you and to have another meaningful connection with Talon as the years go by.

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] @fabulousraven Tom : And to you, my wonderful Gamemakers, I want to thank you all both collectively as well as individually. Collectively, thank you for creating this magical arena with all of its twists and turns and dragons who need to brush their teeth, as I truly, honestly can say that Storm would not have had the journey nor the development that he had without you three at the helm of this wonderous D&D-scape, and also for dealing with me as I'm fully aware I wasn't the easiest tribute to have at times as well LOL (hopefully y'all get the chance to pay me back next time around owo). Rave, my dear, I am so honored to have been the victor of your Gamemaking debut and to have received your support for him as well (and really, it's quite iconic that Storm ended up being the victor of a Gamemaker named Zeus, don'tcha think?) Kay, I've already mentioned this, but it is so so fitting that you were there as a Gamemaker for both my very first Games all the way back in the early 70s and now you're here as one for my victory twenty games later. Thank you for the many productive conversations we've had over the course of this journey, thank you for your endless wisdom and creativity in running these Games, and thank you so, so much for your ever vocal support of the little Storm that could. And Tom. Tom Tom Tommy Tom Tom. You already know what I'm gonna say, so for both of our sakes I won't pull a you and will keep it relatively brief. Thank you for being a wonderful friend over the years on here. Thank you for running a fantastic debut Games and for dealing with the moans and complaints I tossed your way as revenge for the 76th in an exemplary manner. And truly, thank you for reminding me that we have now won each other's debut Games, five years apart, with tributes whose districts put together make the one, the only, 69. 10/10 would do this all over again with you.

To everyone else: I could keep going and going with thank yous for so many of you who supported me both in and out of the Games, but truthfully I've been here for two and a half hours and it'd take me well into the morning to write them all out individually so please forgive me LOL. To those of you who DMed your support of my tribute or your admiration of my writing, thank you for making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and giving me extra motivation to keep on going when the going got rough. To those of you who wished me luck in my fights and the finale, thank you so much for your continued support. And for those of you that reached out to me in the minutes and hours after I won while my hands were still numb and I couldn't believe that this had actually happened, I am so so grateful for all of your love and support. Truly, it's been a magical seven years being in this community, and if you're reading this, I am so so honored and grateful that I got to spend that time with you as well.

Here's to another seven, folks! Storm and I will see you all on the flip side.

Love, Lance.