hits different [e+j; day 4 leisure]

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

its replayed in her mind since she had gotten ace out of there. elle is usually not the sentimental type, in fact, she is the one that would probably exclaim that nicoli was just not strong enough to survive. this is why she didnt want to work with anyone in the first place, because she knew that she would get attached to quickly. even in teams exercises back in four, she always tried to be the headstrong and stubborn one. working with a team made her too vulnerable, which usually would be a good thing, because then they could all compensate for what each other was weaker at.

she would always be taken out of those exercises because she was so stubborn.

but now she didnt have a choice. well she did. she could have let ace fend for themself. it probably would have been easier to just do that, because then elle could keep going and ace could be left to their own devices. they were a bellasario after all. they were strong, quick witted, and fierce fighters.

however, together, they could do so much more.

so elle simply sat near the water as she let ace have their moment of silence. she looked up at the moon as she took time to seal up her wounds that she had received from the girl from five. she didnt even flinch at this point, the needle gliding through her skin smoothly. she pulled the last strand through, watching the wound close on her hip as she then went to apply bandages.

she rifled through her bag and found one of the edible plants that she claimed from this very area before and decided this was good a time as ever to eat something. she popped it in her mouth, and the earthy taste was enough for her to feel like she was eating dirt. however, it was better than nothing. her bloodlust would just have to be curbed for a moment.

she saw ace out of the corner of her eye, and they were holding one of the candles that nicoli had left them. "if he were here right now, that candle would have already been lit." elle offered some sort of solidarity in that. she didnt know these two well, but she could tell that they were close. elle was the outsider, but she could at least read people like a book. both of them would probably be awkward going forward, two headstrong careers trying to navigate the arena when they have differing opinions. the numbers were stronger in groups though.

even if it was just them.

[actions in maint.]

[Cait]

We hadn’t stuck around to see what Nicoli’s fate came to be – Elle hadn’t let me, had instead dragged my numb self away from the crime scene. We sit a way from the falling blood now, recovering from the fallout. Elle, physically. Me, emotionally.

Nicoli’s body is long gone, probably already on its way back to Eight in a cold, wooden crate that should probably belong to me, for all the help I’d been at the end. The fight replays in my mind like the training videos mother would make us watch on a weekly basis. Just another montage of my greatest failures. Every swing, every strike that fell short of my target, crystalised forever in my brain. This is my punishment, stinging more than any cut ever has before.

In my solitude, I wonder what would have happened to the lone candle I placed in the centre of Nicoli’s chest. No doubt the lone flame I’d lit had been quickly doused by the chill of nightfall. But the thought that the small candle may have fallen from his body as he was carried away makes me sadder than I think it should. He deserved better. We all do.

At the very least, I hope that the momentary light helped guide him back home, wherever that may be.

The remaining tealights sit heavy in my satchel – almost too heavy to bear the weight of. In a swift, flippant motion the contents of my bag are strewn across the rocky ground. The candles scatter in all directions as they roll away from my shaking body, but I manage to grab one before it is able to tumble out of my reach. Elle barely flinches at the sound, and I’m grateful she doesn’t make a fuss over the instinctual action. It’s a refreshing change of pace from Fenrir’s nagging voice, “don’t do anything stupid.” He’s still here, yet he’s gone forever.

My heart skips a beat; my breath catches on a sharp inhale; the pain in my chest is back again. Everyone leaves me, everyone already has. The cold candle in my hands confirms as much.

“If he were here right now, that candle would have already been lit.”

I don’t look at her for a long while as I try to find the right words to express the gnawing feeling in my stomach, and that feels easier to do when I’m looking at my own shaking hands. The candle grows heavier by the minute, though, as the silence traps the two of us in an awkward, frosted moment.

“It feels wrong to light it without him.” I eventually manage a feeble explanation: this is not my calling card. I don’t know how to start a prayer or atone for my sins. Once again, I don’t have a fucking clue about anything.

“I know what you’re thinking,” it’s reading her mind like an open book, “that you’d be better off on your own.” There’s something to be said for Careers and their stubbornness. The hardwiring in their bloodstream that makes them think that they own the world, and that the best way to conquer it is alone.

“You’re right.” I turn to look at her now, finally, barely even flinching as she finishes threading a needle through her skin. Her eyes still shine too brightly – far brighter than my hollow ones do – despite the grim task at hand, and even though it’s obvious now that we were both injected with the vampire serum, I wonder just how far the differences run. How does she still manage to find the strength to put herself back together when I feel like I’m falling further and further apart?

“Everyone around me has died. I’m like a bad luck charm.” I wait for the familiar cowardly feeling of watering eyes, but no tears flow, the toll of the last four days too heavy for any more raw emotions. At least I won’t look like a fucking cry-baby tonight.

“You should leave before I rub off on you, too.”

It’s not said with malice, or anger, or even resentment. It’s stated so matter-of-factly, the plain truth of the cards we’ve been dealt. A mirror of my past and an insight into my future all in one: I’m destined to be alone. Any sane person would have left by now.

Every sane person already has.

table by dars!