draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man {day four}

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

THIS SHIT, AGAIN.

Stuff about joining up with the other two. Doesn’t like the idea, feels like it’s a death wish if things get shady. But something inside of him says it's smart to stay with the pack. He sees the other group again and is immediately reminded of yesterday, sending him into a bit of an internal frenzy. Does not want to kill someone again. But he has to.

Something something. Sorry, filler! I’m working until 2 tonight and then I have another shift in the morning. Don’t want to hold up.

[/font]

[attacks nicoli, claws]
EmSo0Kk9joknifeknife

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

All night I keep my palm to my chest. There is a stranger sat amongst us, a new obscure scent who I apologies to for the lack of conversing. Elle has joined us in the aftermath, but I guess amongst the fast pace of the arena, everything must move so much quicker than it does back home. A month-long grieving period, a day of celebrating the life lost. There is no time for that here. The gamemakers are hurrying us along, soon the sun will rise, and the fight will begin again.

All for what exactly?

It is what I ask Ripred in our morning appointment.

I hope you grant Fenrir his wishes, wherever you have brought him. His wishes must have been far stronger than the prayers I have laid on you these past couple of days. Keeping them all alive and well, why did you not listen to me? If there is something greater that you have planned for them, why not show me your agenda? Now you have presented me with Elle. Another name to add to my prayers. How exactly am I meant to protect them when I do not know what your plans are? Just tell me! Just show me anything! I feel like there is nobody listening to me.

I have the one unscented candle lit this morning; I do not deserve to begin the day with the pleasant aromas of the collection in my satchel. Even my own stomach is self-punished, it yearns for tender juicy meat but instead its groans are barely tamed with the green leaves of some edible plants I picked two days ago.

”Are either of you thirsty, I have some water left?” I say as I offer the rest of my goblet. ”Today is a new day, even the sun is trying to escape through the clouds. We need to keep moving, we made a promise.” I throw everything into my satchel, the provisions seems to be shrinking, all I have left of first aid is a measly roll of bandages and a handful of painkilling flora. Today is the first morning where I have not noticed a new change to my body, the same heightened senses, extra hairs, and claw like nails that cause all ten of my fingers to ache with their weight. This is one strange form that Ripred has painted for me or maybe it is just a gamemakers trick.

Leading the pack out of the caves, this time I let my nostrils take us on a journey. Do I track us towards or away from the enemy? Familiar scents intertwine with new ones. This is the fourth day here and we have barely come face to face with most tributes since the bloodbath. A part of me wants to face those creatures of the lake again, at least we all walked away from that one.

We are back to the falls where the red strong-smelling water crashes against ragged rocks. I trudge through ankle deep mud, each step leaves behind a print in the moist turf. There is no time to hide my tracks, not when there are already others on it.

”Did you not listen to what I said yesterday, about leaving us?” Maybe this is a blessing from Ripred but I have been taught that revenge is a sin. Yet so is murder…Fenrir’s killer is the first to swipe with his claws, so I guess this is just self-defence now as I wipe the blood from my arm. ”I guess you being here means Ripred has a plan for you too.”

Nicoli attacks Damion | claws [knife]

F0Zi1tZug7knife

[2062 -- Deep Gash on Left Forearm -- 8.0 damage]

knife

[ryan]

something told elle that it might a good idea to seriously consider bouncing from her current situation. however, she had a feeling it was because there were emotions, and elle didnt really do well with those. to be quite clear, elle walked away from the last group that approached her because of too many loud personalities. they didnt even have to scream, that was the funny part. just their presence was seen as far too much for elle to handle. maybe she would catch them on the flip side, but elle focused on getting as far as she could from them.

it was just luck that she had run into the exact people that she did have her eye on. short one person, but that was the way of the games. only one could live, and dying was a casualty that just had to be accepted. no one was lucky here, whether they survived or not. elle knew that. the mood was somber between nicoli and ace, but elle could handle that better than what the other group had offered her. maybe she was being a little bit of an elitist, but she deserved nothing but the best, especially if she had a chance of dying here. she would make sure that she wouldnt fall.

the night was quiet, she stood watch for a little while before nicoli took over for her. she tried to close her eyes for a little bit, but she was still a little antsy. she told herself that she wouldnt trust people, but here she was, lying again. maybe her confidence overcompensated for the fact that deep down, she was scared. she wanted to win this for her family, but realistically, she felt the pressure of trying to deliver on something that she couldnt guarantee. she did end up dozing off just a little bit, feeling just a tad bit remorse for the fact that she could die right now and no one would care.

hours passed but daylight did not come. moonlight populated the sky, and the smell of wax wafted in the air. when she looked up, she realized that there had been a candle burning, nicoli had already been awake and he looked like he had been deep in thought. she sat up and stretched, her lips feeling less dry then they originally did. her hand had gone straight to her axe, which she laid in her lap as she looked up to see that everyone was starting to wake up. nicoli had offered her some of his water, "Im good, thank you." elle knew that having manners was the least she could do in order to acclimate to her new situation. "save it, who knows when we are going to find more water again." elle had been all about rationing. it was the only right thing to do in moments like this.

"the sun must be pissed off or something, it hasnt been out since these games started." elle noticed it almost instantly. the moonlight was lovely, but what elle would do in order to feel the crisp sun on her skin, even if it probably did burn her. she stood up and started to stretch. "we should move though, we dont want to be sitting ducks here." elle paused for a moment, "or wolves?" elle was confused, but she knew that didnt matter too much. these extra things were weird but elle embraced it. it seemed like the other tributes did too. shes sure the capitol thought it was fresh too. it was probably the talk of the town.

they moved out of the den and back to the bloody waterfalls that elle had stayed in the first night. the smell of the water had made her mouth salivate even though her thirst had been satiated. mustve been a side effect of whatever she was injected with. she shook her head as she kept her eyes open for any threats. anything could happen right now, including an ambush, and while there were two careers present, elle was not gullible enough to believe that they would be okay even if they were ambushed. she had seen far too many times careers die because they got too cocky. elle was confident in her abilities, but not certain.

her only saving grace.

she can hear the rustling through the trees as she looks up to see that someone was coming towards them. she takes a deep breath, showtime. the boy from ten moves out of the shadows and slices at nicoli, and then she sees two other silhouettes in the shadows. "guess they didnt want to take no for an answer." elle sneered as she kept a mental note that there were two other people behind the boy from ten. "so thats their deal huh? send you out for the slaughter?" elle said to the boy from ten. "gross." she listened to nicoli's words and she held up her axe. "guess ill oblige." elle had closed the gap between herself and ten, her axe raised up high. "maybe next time you have to pick better allies." and she brought her axe down.

[Elle Aye D4A attacks Damion Rothbauer D10M with her silver axe | (axe)]
jluH3oNponaxe
[11041 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
(Axe)]

reroll accuracy day 4

axe
[11058 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage
(Axe)]

axe·axe

[pogue]

C  O  Y  O  T  E

Something about being on death's doorstep makes even the wildest of deals a whole lot more enticing.

The three of them sit in screaming silence after the girl leaves the caves, axe still laced between her fingertips and footsteps the only things left echoing in her wake as she disappears into the dark. Cash counts his own heartbeats like they're all that he has left, they are, because the only thing he can hear between the three of them is the way his own breaths sound like they are desperate to remain stuck in his own neck, digging claws into the sides of his throat and begging to do anything but come out. His gaze, sharpened eyesight and bloodlusted irises dart between the boy and back to Cantara, catching the way she already seems connected more with someone who is supposed to be their enemy than she is to him.

He can't, shouldn't blame her. He does anyways, bitter and biting and tasting like arsenic.

"Y'know, they're going to come back for you."

His words hit heavy against the floor, then bounce to the walls of the den. Loyalty, he plays off of it like it's a card he has always known how to play in his life, like he has not always lived individual against the pack of Five, like he wasn't blood thirsty for something larger than himself, and all for himself, since before he got these fangs. "Two against one sounds like shit odds-" He starts again, staring towards the boy, "- no matter how deep you can cut with those." He glances down towards claws that still drip red, hears the ping of blood hitting the floor of the den, a reminder of what he could do. Selfish, survival, he wants desperately to make sure the claws don't end up carving a smile into the soft flesh of his own neck.

He wakes the next morning the odd thing out of a pack born to die, deal made and loyalty sewn in bare boned threads between the three of them. It's the first night that he has gotten sleep of any sorts and he curses the way his body still fights for its own survival at the most basic of instincts, can't recount the exact moment that he slipped into the darkness, only the fear that he felt when his eyes opened the next morning. 

No knife stabbed into his back- yet. It's why he purposely sticks to the back of the pack as they find their way out of the Den.

The arena has a way of forcing them wherever their gods desire, Ripred or not or just the person pressing the buttons and they stumble their way back towards the Falls once more, the rushing sound of the bloody waters pounding against his ears and leaving a ringing scream in their wake. He bites fangs into his lower gums out of desperation and slight agitation, unfurls his claws and grimaces at the sight of three familiar faces laced into the distance, fast to come into clarity and the promise of a fight running towards them. "Would have been three against one." He throws to Damion, lucky you have us.

Maybe.

The animal who looks the best, yells the loudest, charges the fastest is always chosen first for the slaughter. It's why he's been so comfortable blending into the background all of his life, dipping through the District Square in shadow and silence, feeling nothing on his skin but the bouncing words of his fellow residents and the occasional empty glance towards a boy no one would ever know. It's why, even as two waves crash into each other yet again, tides of crimson and scarlet intertwining at the edge of a roaring falls he steps backwards before feeling his claws unfurl, dances in the shadows and plots out his next move as the only one with fangs instead of fur, bloodlust instead of blind loyalty.

It's what lets him survive. It's what makes him dangerous, for now.

It's why he's able to dart around Damion when the boy's arm gains nothing but red, blood and muscle spilling out in threads and droplets to the edge of the falls. The same feeling- instinct, blood runs over the forefront of his mind even as he dashes forwards past him and towards the same boy from the other day. There is deja vu written into the dead space between the six of them, sharpened claws and bloody fangs and a pack he'd never swear loyalty too.

Writing his sins in heavy lines of red, he slams down with the blood-stained claws pressed to his fingertips.

[attacks nicoli ; knife]

tcWxxuovg2knife

[3.5]

knife

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

The Den was coated in so many slimy layers of smells. The temptation to take a deep breath and hold it (just until Damion indicated it was time to leave) broke the moment Cash spoke. "Y'know, they're going to come back for you."

Cantara's yellow eyes, dimmed only slightly by their dark encampment, narrowed. "They'd be stupid not to," she sniffed.

The moment the moon rose she felt the surge in her veins. Her blood sang for Luna -- for the night's gaze, the promise of a pack, the cool feminine power. She stared at the anthem, enraptured, and then tracked the moon's arch across the arena.

When Damion bedded down, Cantara drew as near as she thought he would allow, and then setup watch. She hissed when Cash drew too close but found, in the morning, that she awoke curled in a tight ball practically against her district partner's spine. A growl lodged in her throat.

The morning is damp, even with the black fur coating her almost head to toe. She lopes between them, the boy who reminds her of home and the wolf who should be Alpha. All at once they're aware of others. Whatever Cash has transformed into has given him advantages. Begrudgingly she looks to him in time for him to posit some rather questionable math. "Would have been three against one."

Or just us two against three, and how strong of a pair do we make? The thought comes out a meek whine. Damion, Leader, attacks first and the others are quick to pile on him. "I guess you being here means Ripred has a plan for you too.”

Cantara snarls. "Ripred!? That's your logic?"

Cash nips at the wolf.

But Cantara's indentified one of the others by her scent. "You." She slinks around Damion, coming face to face with Elle.

"Maybe next time you have to pick better allies."

Her golden claw caps shine in the filtered sunlight. "You betrayed us," she says quietly, that lodged growl making each of her words jagged. "Did you follow us? Did you think you could trap us so easily?"

[Cantara attacks Elle; teeth (knife)]

waZM4PxQRCknife

[Shallow Cut on Right Shoulder -- 3.5 damage]

knife

[Cait]

I don’t sleep, despite the numb fatigue in my bones. My sharpened teeth and pale skin embrace the cool of the night which keeps me awake for all hours. Something hums inside of me, beneath the surface, seeking refuge in the darkness. I feel like the moonlight should make me stronger, but it just saps my energy furthermore.

I wonder if it’s just another side effect of the injected serum, the up and down of my foreign body.

Know it’s something much more complicated than that.

The space next to my curled body is occupied by a new stranger. My skin prickles. I don’t trust her words, her smirk, her blonde hair that still looks flawless despite four days of this torture. She’s just like the other Careers back home – stubborn and cocky and too used to the world always giving her what she wants. Every time she opens her mouth, I have to contain an eye roll.

In theory, two Careers teaming up makes sense. We should know each other better than anyone else in here, a shared camaraderie strengthening a blossoming friendship. It’s too bad I’m only about half of a Career. Nicoli probably suspects as much already – I’m not the polished, refined assassin a Bellisario should be. Fenrir saw right through me straight away. But the stakes are different now. There’s a different beast to impress. Any weakness of mine will only be a strength of hers.

So I bite my tongue and clench my fists and try not to speak out of turn, harder than I’ve ever tried before.

No. I don’t trust Elle – some pretty girl who waltzed on in and expected to fill the space that Fenrir left. I don’t trust her now, and I won’t – not until time gives me a reason to.

I pray time doesn’t give me a reason to, because I’m exhausted and don’t want to fight today. But as the last few days have proven, prayers mean nothing in here.

When the clearing fills with more people, I’m not even surprised. I just raise an eyebrow, eyes wide with realisation because I know these fuckers. The scent of Fenrir hangs thick in the air, and the snarl that comes from my throat is animalistic and grotesque.

“Haven’t you done enough? Why can’t you just leave us the fuck alone?”

I take a step towards the killer – blade raised, eyes blazing. There’s no doubt in my mind – I’m going to kill the motherfucker.

But then I hear it. Soft but sharp. Fenrir’s voice in my head, my ears, “don’t do anything stupid.” A tug at my heart begs me to listen to him. I desperately want to.

But then I see the gaping mouth of a dark cave. I see Fenrir’s bloodlust gaze and the dying pulse of his veins reflected there, shining dimly.

I see claws embedded into an eye socket, blood and blood and blood everywhere.

And I don’t really want to listen anymore.

Nicoli and Elle slash at the boy and my heart aches with every retaliation. Someone is going to die, again. Nicoli shoulders most of the hits as the girl from the other side creeps towards Elle – wolf on vampire, stranger on stranger – and I have to choose.

Protect Nicoli, or protect Elle?

In the end, it doesn’t matter where I strike. I couldn’t protect Fenrir – why the fuck should I think I can protect anybody else?

ace attacks cantara – glaive

8ghYNAqjnBglaive

shallow cut on neck – 4.0

glaive

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

”Did you not listen to what I said yesterday, about leaving us?”"

I wish that I could. I don’t want to be here. I didn’t want to kill your friend. I’m sorry.

”I guess you being here means Ripred has a plan for you too.”

The boy swipes, letting the spirits guide him as his claws drag across my arms. It leaves a crevice in my arm that now drips red, the same red that painted my claws. The same red that we all thirst for. Even the sight of my own causes a stir in my veins, an adrenaline rush that wants more. Just not any that come from me.

WE HAVE NO CHOICE, YOU BITCH.

I look at him and know that there’s nothing that lay behind him and his religion. His fake being that Pa and Grandma believe in so darn much. Where we sat in long wooden seats, and then stood up, and then sat down, and then stood up again. And we would clap during songs. A lot. As a boy, I always found the concept weird. But I didn’t know any better so I often went with their guidance. Maybe this boy who is attacking me just follows what the world tells him is right. In this world, it’s fighting. But apparently it’s not right for others to fight his friends. I’m glad the loony bin does not fall far from Ten.

"so thats their deal huh? send you out for the slaughter?"

I guess. I guess I’m still a slave after all. Doing hard work for the people that don’t want to, because just as I succeed once, I will for life. The girl that I saw after our fight yesterday now worked with the others as if the other two were any different. If I could find the ability to speak I would. She speaks as if she’s killing a sheep as if she isn’t one herself.

The boy follows my lead, while the girl attacks the second sheep. Something about being a traitor - but no alliance truly lies within this place.

“Haven’t you done enough? Why can’t you just leave us the fuck alone?”

The last of the other group speaks up, which started my fire compared to the others. They all express anger. Disappointment. They rage at me for killing their partner, as if they weren’t trying to do the same to the duo I stood by. A snarl escapes from my throat, one of anger, erupting in a peak of bloodlust. I did not want to kill that boy, the wolf, because I did not want to be known as the killer. But that’s all I am to them now. To the world, probably. All I wanted was to get back home to the store, scooping ice cream for the citizens of ten, providing them with a small spark of joy in their day. If I go home, will I ever be able to touch the store again? I shudder at the idea of that part of my life being gone.

LET HIM BE DEAD.

I say to myself, wishing my words would come out as I wanted them to.

YOU STARTED THAT FIGHT. YOU ASKED FOR WAR.

My claws raise in the air.

YOU GET WAR IN RETURN.

[attacks nicoli, knife (claws)]
uieYEwxnoiknife
[10.0]knife

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

Heightened senses, there comes a negative to my newly acquired abilities. The pain is just as intensified. They are both shredding me, piece by piece. Fenrir’s killer is the harder hitter, barely missing the critical hit on my throat. All my life I have been the punching bag and battering ram. I am supposed to take pain but the now counterfeit life of the Rasoios is nothing compared to my predecessors’ time. I have never felt pain like this before.

One hand clings onto my neck and the other keeps my weapons drawn. In the millisecond between hits, there is a moment to make sure Ace and Elle are okay. Ace looks untouched while our new ally is taking a beating from the rather loud vampiric girl that questioned Ripred’s logic. At least she is not the only one to do so...

”Ace, it is time for you to make me a promise…” The bodyguard is falling, my promise to Fenrir is filling with cracks but maybe Elle’s arrival was not just a coincidence. It may be soon my time with Ripred and despite the lack of twenty-four hours with the new career ally, I am sure she is a better protector than I am. ”Please light my candles for me when it is my time to go.”

I say it loud so that they can hear but a gasp skips from my lips after I speak. It reminds me of the time I overcame pneumonia as a child, my lungs are just as heavy as they were then. The crashing sound of the falls is so enhanced, making up for my now spinning vision.

The door may be opening but I am not ready to step through it just yet.

Ripred granted me with these gifts and these new friends. Just a handful of days is not enough time. But why did Ripred bring this boy into our paths for a second day? Ripred!? What’s your logic?

Nicoli attacks Damion | claws [knife]

84fR8xIHn3knife

Accuracy

knife

[2003 -- Deep Gash on Left Forearm -- 8.0 damage]

knife·knife

[ryan]

her axe sliced into the boy from ten, and she pursed her lips for a minute before seeing the blood pour from the wound. she was insync with nicoli, but she had a feeling that she might have still not been trusted. right now, that did not matter, in fact, a part of her wondered just how much their buy in was. it was always a number game when you were in the hunger games, and elle was confident in herself, by herself. the part where she realized that maybe right now, this was actually deeper than her. someone did depend on her ability to kill. there was no denying that elle had a lot of show.

she is fully of rage though in this moment, and there is a lot of moving parts. elle wished she could slow down town, but all the blood being spilled made her excited. she wanted to get this over with, so she could lick her weapon and feast on exactly what she yearned for. the girl from five had come out of the woodwork, her claws trying to take out a chunk of her body. elle winced for a moment, taking a step back and letting ace fall in line and swing at the girl. "betrayed you? followed you?" elle laughed, her axe still feeling light in her hand as the moonlight glowed off it. "dont." elle shook her head. "i could say the same to you. seeing as you sent this sheep out first." she is powerful in her words, full of bloodlust and vibrato. she is not scared of some insignificant girl from five who thought she was more alpha then she actually was.

she brought her attention back to the fight, and realized that the boy from ten had slashed across nicoli's neck. elle could tell that had to have hurt. his resolve to live was just as strong as the rest of them. but he was from ten, and that meant that he wasnt anything special. he was not going to be a story written for people to remember, just another child too blind to see that he would never survive in here. it was the only way that elle had made peace with her own death. she either had to rise to the occasion or fall. the way he swiped his claws made it very clear that he might have thought the same thing. the main difference though was that elle was calm and collected. he was nothing but feral and full of rage.

nicoli spoke to ace, and elle was confused for a moment. he was speaking like he might not make it out of here. it was like he did not trust the capabilities of two careers to turn the fight in their favor. just because the boy from ten had landed a passionate but lucky strike did not mean that this was over. elle's grip tightened around the axe as she looked at nicoli "why are we lighting candles? none of us are dying." elle had raised her axe. "and ill make sure of that." she closed the gap between herself and the boy from ten, pushing past the girl from five.

she would smear the blood all over the earth.

his blood.

like any monster would.

[Elle Aye D4A attacks Damion Rothbauer D10M with her silver axe | (axe)]
ZGXBNYAmWfaxe
[11113 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage
(Axe)]

axe

[pogue]

C  O  Y  O  T  E

He's always been the silent type.

He moves like a specter through the fight, a shadow running from the sun, bloodied claws pressed into bloodied palms until he can feel his own skin start to split under the pressure. His blows have been shallow at best, heightened senses doing nothing to counter the way his target shifts and falls back, twists out of the way of any devastating blows that he throws at him. What's left are nothing but shallow paper cuts on fur-ridden skin, endlessly moving a scarlet goal post backwards and forwards, again and again.

He's the odd man out in this fight, a fanged nightmare in a pack of wolves. He does anything he can to make sure they don't know it.

"Please light my candles for me when it is my time to go." Somber notes hit his ears like a screaming drum, waxing poetic and waning grief. His body tears itself in two from the inside out, heart sinking deeper into heavy chest, skin crawling on rattling bones. His humanity feels twinges of sorrow, sympathy, it disgusts him. 

Whatever lurks in his veins, in fangs and claws and heightened senses yearns for nothing but blood.

The words bite at him and he bites them back in return, feels his fangs press into rotted gums and yellow teeth still stained red from the blood he had drank this morning. A dueling wolf pack erupts around him, snarky responses and promises not worth keeping, loyalty. It makes him sick, realism dotting at the edges of his vision before slipping into red. He looks to Cantara but her gaze doesn't meet his own, too focused on the way Damion swings wildly forwards and draws nothing but droplets and dead air.

Time moves slower in silence. He makes his choice, feigns loyalty for his own benefit, looks towards his target.

"Damion-" He motions, scarlet-tipped claws unfurling in the bleak moonlight. His footsteps rock against the heavy earth as he jumps forward towards the nearest boulder, feels his weight press into it, "-duck." 

[attacks nicoli ; knife]

Zs3tTIvD3oknife

[4.5]

knife

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

There's the kiss of a ghost on her neck.

She swipes. Comes away with a trickle of blood. Cantara can tell from scent alone that it's her own. Tis but a scratch, nothing life-threatening, but she knows - she knows - Alpha Damion can only take so much more. She must be quick. Or she must find another solution. There's something important about the next thing she does but if she thinks about it too hard she'll not only lose the drive to fight but also the meager contents of her stomach:

she drags her bloodied, gold plated claws underneath Cash's chin. "Wake up," she purrs.

Not all is lost. She's worked and reworked the equation and knows that one isn't enough. They all need each other, this mismatched trio. Damion rises to the occasion, striking hard and true. Cantara's yellowed eyes shine with admiration. If he can, she can.

And Cash must if he's to be any use at all.

"Please light my candles for me when it is my time to go.”

Cantara sniffs. She drops to all fours, blending in with the cat-and-mouse shadows of the day. "You won't find any witches to burn here." The sun, adulterated by the mist, fades to grey for a heartbeat.

"i could say the same to you. seeing as you sent this sheep out first."

Cantara hisses, striking into the momentary darkness. "A bitch -- or two -- you may more likely find." Her claws come back empty.

Her stomach rumbles. She can't remember the last time she ate. If she's eaten before this day in her entire life it did nothing to slack this hunger, this yearning, this need. As the sunlight clears the clouds Cantara rears onto her hind legs. She does not strike suddenly. She wraps her blade-sharp claws around Elle's arm and draws her close enough to whisper through gnashed teeth. "I will not lose either of them to you."

[Cantara attacks Elle; teeth (knife)]

59fZNCVot2knife

[Miss -- 0.0 damage]

Accuracy - Day 4

knife

[Deep Gash on Left Bicep -- 8.0 damage]

knife·knife

[Cait]

Nicoli endures blow after blow from the other pack, struggling to hold himself together as he falls apart. My blade is busy trying to find purchase on the wolf-girl’s skin. It finds her cheek on a poorly weighted swing – not good enough, never good enough – and I’m halfway done reprimanding myself, preparing to aim straight at her heart, when I hear another sharp set of claws to my left breaking through skin once more.

A familiar whine punches the air.

It’s déjà vu, it’s happening again, it’s just going to keep. fucking. happening.

Everyone leaves me when they finally realise how fucked I am. When the curiosity of unpredictability wears off, it’s plain to see I’m just a broken record, stuck in a time loop where I’m forced to recycle the same anxious thoughts, the darkest fears of my heart.

The threat of losing yet another person from my life paralyses me. A familiar hand reaches for my neck – a hand that cannot be seen, but whose black presence trickles deep into my bloodstream. It holds me tightly, too tightly, I want to go home.

Realise I’ve made my home here.

Realise the only way to change fate – something I’m constantly trying to predict, despite the lunacy of such a feat – is to do the very thing I don’t want to do.

Lucky for me, breaking habits is what I do best.

The noose of the hand slips slightly, and my feet rush out from under me to find Nicoli and hold him upright.

“Please light my candles for me when it is my time to go.”

No, no, no no no, we are not doing this again.

Elle is feral as she comes to stand next to me, shoulder by shoulder, and I wonder if I look the same. I feel like I’m barely holding onto the last string of my sanity, but at least my eyes aren’t blazing like hers at all of the bloodshed. Yet she’s still sane enough to be the voice of reason our duo desperately needed. “Why are we lighting candles? None of us are dying.”

I mimic her sentiment, parroting back to Nicoli as I place my hand over his own in a futile attempt to stop the blood streaming from his neck. “Haven’t you realised yet? I’m the last person who can keep a promise.” I shake my head at him, at myself, trying to stop the onslaught of my own cruel thoughts. I don’t plan to keep his promise, because I refuse to let myself wander down that path of possibility.

“None of us are dying,” I echo it, whisper it, pray that it travels to the right places of this dark arena. Somewhere that will keep us safe.

All the while, the attacks keep coming. Elle lashes out at Fenrir’s killer again and again, and yet every swipe against his skin seems to cause the wolf-girl even more pain than he. As if some type of voodoo magic, mind-linking shit is at play right now. She growls, barely intelligible, desperate in her attempts to protect.

The realisation comes to me: in her rebirth, she is not herself. In this form, she is weaker than us all.

Curious.

“Hey wolfie! I have news for you,” I’m right here, Nicoli,

“You’re putting your faith in the wrong fucking monster.”

She should know the sad truth of reality: all we have is ourselves.

ace attacks cantara – glaive

esq_q63aJoglaive

deep gash on left calf – 8.0

glaive

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

The girl, I think from four, speaks. "I could say the same to you. seeing as you sent this sheep out first." I know that she’s referrin’ to me, and I know she’s right, but I am not no sheep.

I KILLED HIM. I’M THE WOLF.

I’m the guardian wolf protectin’ the herd of sheep in this fight. We knew that their claws would dig into us again. I just made the first strike. But I am the bad guy, cause I already killed someone. Somethin’ that I never thought I could do back in Ten. All I knew back home was how many scoops went into a large cone and our monthly special. I wonder if they made somethin’ in my honor.

Probably somethin’ orange. They’re some dumb fucks, my parents. I’m normally the one that came up with any new flavors. Probably don’t even remember my fav’rite damn flavor.

My arm bleeds red. It pours out in rivers as if the waterfall inspired the walls of my veins to collapse. Maybe it wants me to die. Do I want ta die? A thought flickers an’ causes a slight waver in my determination in this fight. What happens when I get home? Our most recent victor is creeping towards twenty years past his time. They’re gettin’ old. Do I become the new Ansgar, the new Saffron, the new Mace? What if I don’t want ta? What if I just want ta run the store, be happy in the fact that I still have it, and they still have me? The murder of someone by my own hands is horrifying. But watching two tributes die a year, and not being able to help them personally is worse. I want to help people. How am I helping them if they’ll die under my watch?

"A bitch -- or two -- you may more likely find." Cantara speaks, a hiss to follow. A pack fights when its territory is threatened. The bitch of the pack latches onto Four’s arm. Clingin’, wrappin’ like a snake around its prey. Like a baby’s grip. She whispers somethin’ into the ear of her meal, and attacks. Her jawed teeth latch onto skin, leaving a tear in the other chest.

And suddenly I’m hungry as well. Hungry to leave this fight, to end it all and set us back down for the day. Because I can’t handle more. My body feels weaker by the strikes, and it does not know if it’ll feel better any time soon. Will it ever? Will I ever be able to speak again?

Those that struggle the most are the most silent. Maybe this is a sign that I will always struggle. Struggle to be the wolf, the leader. I have always been the bitch of the pack at home. How does one ever gain the reputati’n, the power, the leadership I need? I can hardly lead myself to think straight, to fight another day, to push through whatever twisted biological effects that have punish’d me.

I feel like one of them damn rats Ma’ used to find in our laundry. Growin’ up, they refused ta put mice traps in our place. Said that Scoops will do the job. That lazy little booger never did shit with them rats. Hid from them more than anythin else. Anyway, we’d find ‘em in the washer. Somehow they squeezed in. Most the time they’re dead. Got spun around so damn much in the water that their bodies gave up.

I’m in the washer. But I’m no rat. I’m a wolf. And I’m also not in a washer, but I am in a fuckin’ death trap. So maybe I’m not like one of them rats. But maybe I just miss ‘em. Miss home. The only way I can get home is to keep on fightin. Stand with my pack ‘ntil the day I die. Or til they die. Or until I get home. But your pack will always be your pack. Dead, or alive, I will give ‘Pa and Grandma that, the spirits of the ones who fight for you will always stand by you. Loyalty is rooted, that’s the one thing I got. Loyalty. To my work, to my duty. My duty is to fight with these two.

I ain’t leavin these two anytime soon.

[attacks nicoli, knife]
EUdXTgrdunknife
[miss]

accuracy reroll
knifeknife·knife

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

I have seen lame dogs dispatched in back alleys before. A guard dog that has lost its bark or the much-loved family pet whose old age has become a burden. Ripred never discriminates when it is time. The unlikely murdering boy from District Ten has the bolt gun to my head while the other guy has his finger over the trigger. Ace and Elle are trying to push them away, but Ripred has tight reins on them both. Maybe the pain will ease if I just accept it but that is just selfish on my part. Other lives are relying on mine.

Elle is quick to brush away my fate and Ace refuses it. For once, others are actually fighting for me. I have been brought up as the family shield. Fodder in the family tree, a branch that can be easily snapped but there are plenty of others to climb onto.

They have the will to fight for me. Maybe I should have a little more fight left inside me.

Except Ripred has chosen me today. The door is creaking open, and the light is shining through.

Elle is a clear perfect replacement, a battering ram straight out of the gates. I respect her determination and there is a little trust that she will drag Ace along the home straight with her. I can accept that fate, even if Ripred has already written that one of them will return to me.

”This won’t be the last time we see each other. I will remember to wait for you on the other side. Even you.” I direct the final words to the wreck of a guy that has been tearing me up. ”It is a place where sins are forgiven.” One last ounce of strength, either to pull the door shut or to push it wide open. My left hand still cradles my bloodied neck while my right continues with the fight. Sweat is rinsing with blood across my brow, soon my body will be ready to throw in the towel.

Nicoli attacks Damion | claws [knife]

6d76Lm_ljsknife

2157 -- Block -- 0.0 damage

knife

[ryan]

the skin felt squishy from what she could feel through her axe. she is still trying to process exactly what she needed to do in order to kill this boy from ten. he was resilient, she could at least admit that, but she was also a trained killer, and she would make sure that he would fall just like the rest of them.

she listened to all of the children talking around her, and to be quite honest, she knew that she was no better. however, not all of them were trained killers. ace and herself maybe, but everyone else was just trying to fake it until they either died or lucked into killing someone. sure, they were all desperate, but none of them actually knew what it was like to train to kill. she would do exactly what she was told, gut them like fish, rip out their bones and beat them with them, slice and dice until all that was left was a mushy pile of blood and skin.

there was no malice behind it, in fact, she would do as respectfully as she could. it was nothing personal, just what she was taught to do. she stepped back again to let ace drive their glaive into the one from five. she smirked for a moment before the boy from five stepped in. they were going after nicoli like he was nothing more than fodder. it was honestly quite disrespectful. they all become more aggressive, and elle is taken a back. "right." she spoke out to ace, elle is confident in her ability to seal the deal. in fact, she believes that any one of them are capable of drawing a fatal blow.

however, the girl from five seemed to believe that she was stronger, more feral and wild than elle was. that she was an alpha. elle rolled her eyes at the mention of the word bitch. "funny" elle is deadpan and her axe is tight in her hand. "im not the bitch you want to mess with." elle took a step forward, realizing that the girl from five was trying to distract her just enough in order to catch her off guard, she sliced at elle, but she had already stepped forward, ready to take her axe to the boy from ten.

but then her arm is caught, and she is pulled back for a moment the girl from five is in earshot, and she sounds like she needs an inhaler. "i will not lose either of them to you." the girl from five said through gritted teeth. elle snickered for a moment, her axe in the other hand. she took a moment to shift her eyes towards the girl. "if i were you..." elle stares her down. "id be more worried about yourself then about them." elle readies her hand. "now get your hands off of me before i chop them off myself." and she swung her axe in the direction of the girl

[Elle Aye D4A attacks Cantara Kanansis D5 with her silver axe | (axe)]
3FcqaszjFcaxe
[11119 -- Shallow Cut on Back of Head -- 4.5 damage
(Axe)]

axe