yet in the end, we're only human // 92nd finale
Dec 17, 2022 18:20:35 GMT -5
Post by esther kim d3 {lance} on Dec 17, 2022 18:20:35 GMT -5
Lonely upon a craggy cliff sits a castle worn away by time and terror. You've grown accustomed to the sight, its blackened silhouette sticking out of the horizon like a jagged blade. You've even dared to brave its halls, coated in mold and rubble. Fractured tiles groaned underfoot like a tongue flexing around squirming prey. For as long as you can remember, that castle was a corpse.
Nothing happens in the morning. You've long since grown accustomed to lucid dreams dragging you about the arena - the lake's shadowy tendrils or rivers of blood cutting through the earth to block your path. You have never really had a choice, you've always ended up exactly where the arena wants you to be. And you know that today is a very special day. You've made it this far with bloody hands - or claws, as it were.
The day stretches on, long and full of torturous anticipation. Perhaps you try to find your only remaining companion, perhaps you take this time to catch your breath.
As the sun sets, The Castle takes its first shuddering breath. From where you stand you can see it awash in golden light, orchestral music spilling out of windows thrown open in revelry. As though in a trance you see hoards of creatures trudging toward it's gaping maw. It seems the mutts have little interest in you when there's a party to attend.
Caught up in the crowd, you've no choice but to follow suit. You are the guest of honor, after all.
One of two.
Our two remaining tributes will find themselves guided toward a grand ballroom at the heart of the Gothic Castle. The atmosphere is lively, chittering bats hanging from the ceiling fixtures and massive wolves stalking through the tables lining either side of the room. Chandeliers hang low, slightly crooked on groaning chains and the only light they cast are the feebly flickering candles dripping wax down their blackened metal arms.
Isabella and Andal will find themselves standing on either side of an opalescent dance floor, spirits with no discernable features but vaguely familiar voices tending to their remaining wounds and attempting to make them into something presentable before the music starts in earnest.
As the first tributes steps into the ring, ominous music booms across the room.
This is your final dance.
Good luck tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor.
[thanks to ghostly spirits, tributes will receive double healing before the finale]
Tribute Information:
Isabella Rodriguez, District Six -- 6.5 damage
Self-Defense
Andal Searley, District Ten -- 4 damage
Blades
Self-Defense