a gentle rain begins to fall // adepti v slay, day 3.

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

Can you be homesick for a place you've never been? Francine thinks so. The forest isn't dark, but it is deep - and she feels right here, scurrying along at the front of their ragtag line as Wisp darts around her head. Trees that sway, singing songs - higher tunes, lullabies, soft and sweet. She doesn't know the lyrics but she dances anyway, frolicking every few steps, eyes wide and giggling to herself.

And the lanterns. It's as if the Gamemakers knew about the ones she hung in the branches back home. How lovely these ones were, not like hers - makeshift glue and scrap pieces of yarn dug from the bottom of Matron's sewing cupboard. Even as soft droplets of rain fall the lanterns keep their light, swaying in the breeze. Francine tips her head back and opens her mouth wide, catching droplets with her tongue. She spins and spins and spins with Wisp who twirls and chirps near her outstretched arms. It's a lovely scene, but - morbid, somehow. So innocent, in a terribly sad way.

Perhaps its the ghosts in the night sky. Francine whispers their names to Wisp, as if to store them in his shadowy light. Calamity. Duke. Their names taste like they're at peace. The eerie girl from Seven wonders who they'll haunt. She wonders who she will.

🌸

They wake to a storm. Lighter than yesterday, but still daunting. Francine doesn't mind - but the others might. So she obliges without complaint as they pack up camp and set off quickly, taking shelter underneath the widest of branches and splashing through puddles littered with loose, half-drowned petals. Pretty, Francine thinks, eyeing the pink splotches. Even when drenched.

Then she looks up at Autumn from underneath her umbrella and thinks the same thing once more.

Bubbleboy floats past her and Wisp drifts from her presence to follow, just as Francine does to Adan's side. It's then that Francine looks to the sky and notices that Wisp is the colour of a storm cloud, grey and rumbling. She wonders if he rains. She wonders where he goes when trouble brews.

Speaking of, she hears something - steps forward once, twice, skip-hop, drops her umbrella and lets it roll into a puddle. She freezes, creeping behind a wide cherry blossom trunk, and motions to the others to stop.

Others. Two - no, three? Four? Four. Wisp vanishes, and Francine knows what that means. She grips her sword and snarls - aims for the littlest one. Picks on someone her own size.

francine attacks dorothy, katana (sword)

UIquRkqmY9sword

3.5

sword

[ryan]

she took way too much time trying to smack the common sense into dyno. he is still trying to level with her, and she is not having it. he does not realize that she is and always will be her own person. she is not afraid of empty threats or promises for that matter. she could be relaxing, tending to her wounds, but no. she is currently trying to get him to realize that she does not care about his hopes and dreams.

she thinks they are just as silly as hers.

finally, she found an opening, and after laying him out on the grass, she ducked away and left him lick his own wounds, just like she had to lick her own. she caught up with dorothy, theo, and elm evetually. "that boy from one is full of passion and fire." she finally sat down and pulled out the bandages from her bag. she began to wrap them around her foot, feeling like that was where the most concern should be.

time passed.

it is finally nightfall and svet had finally awoke from a nap. she said she would take the shift when the anthem would play. she relieved someone, but they did not go. "cant sleep? or dont want too?" she is trying keep the conversation light because it was late.

something was said, but svet realized that it wasnt important. however, when the anthem had appeared in the sky, she had realized that the first face to appear in the sky was that of calamity. svet had nothing to say directly. her mind did wander, her head did shake side to side. i tried. she thought to herself as she stood at attention. seeing duke in the sky did add any reaction. she simply went back to focusing on the area around her.

it was calm and peaceful to say the least.

---

the storm had woken all of them up, but svet had already popped open her umbrella. she sat there for a second as she watched the rainfall reach treacherous levels. she wrapped her fingers around the base of the umbrella and then began to spin it in the rain. she watched as water had gone every direction. she smiled for a moment as she watched the storm passed.

the morning came and it seemed like everyone was well rested enough. she stood up, trying to get the rest of them to follow. dorothy had taken the lead again, but this time, the exploration had become more relaxing. the sight of pink flower petals had made svetlana wonder what kind of flower this was. she had never seen it in seven, and judging from the trees that it was falling from, it was probably edible enough.

she would not put one in her mouth right now, because that was not going to do her any good. she did not even see francine coming. she whipped out of nowhere and took her sword to dorothy. "oh." she finally looked up to see autumn, adan, and the tribute from one. "silent steps for such a brave girl." svet had already brought her naginata in front of her. she wished that this was not what it had to come too, but she knew the gamemakers would punish them all if none of them fought. it was a lose lose.

she thought about it for a second, and she knew that was one second too long, the tribute from one had been a little too quiet. she seemed nothing like her district partner. that was a problem. she decided to close the gap between both of them. "you know, your district partner doesnt know how to shut up..." she giggled to herself, pulling her naginata back. "how about you?" she tightened her grip.

"do you have a story to tell?"

[d7a svetlana forrester attacks d1a steele cassidy with her naginata | (glaive)]
oxHoEDusG1glaive
[13078 -- Stabbed in Chest -- 9.5 damage
(Glaive)]

glaive

[d7m fraser birk ♚ frankel]

Here again, with the umbrella erect and the intrusive green glowing orb that now has a name, Toto, floating at my eye level. The storm is brewing up ahead, no raindrops yet but I prepare for the worst. I am supposed to be sleeping right now but every second of yesterday’s events keeps replaying in my mind. For so long I have been so unbothered with the idea of death, funerals back home became an annual event. Something to be expected. Now I am the one to draw the blood and stare right into the face of a departing soul. It is just a part of the journey. Something to bury down below. It is something I should expect to face tomorrow too. Guilt just needs to wash away in the rain that will be forecast with a light flurry of death…

Svet is awake too, the crazy ally murmurs and asks whether I can’t sleep or not. She seems a good person to have at my side, relentless definitely after cashing off after Dyno Moreno earlier. She will either get herself killed or one of us. Sometimes recklessness has its perks, it is a word my father liked to tar against my name. Recklessness let me escape from that hell hole every night. Recklessness led me to this hellhole tonight. ”Don’t want too, they will be playing the anthem soon and I want to be awake for it.”

I just want to mask the face of the dying boy in my head with one of life in the sky. Hopefully seeing his portrait without a spear sticking out of it will settle the nightmares that are likely to come when I do fall asleep. Duke is first in the sky, then Calamity from District Twelve. The arena is still so full and frightening right now.

---

Pounding water drops against the canvas of my umbrella wake me up in the morning. Keeping this thing up all night is the most useful thing I have done while being here – other than killing that boy from Three and saving my ass and my allies. Finally my clothes feel somewhat dryer after the excursion in the pond yesterday and the ruthless storm forces to me to my feet before I get even wetter.

”I guess we have to continue on today, that forest ahead looks like good enough shelter.” I am not entirely sure how I have become the unelected navigator of this alliance. Yeah the whole backstory of me running away from home every night does gives me some sense of direction but being the one in front when enemies are lurking ahead? I am far from qualified in that.

That is why I am the first one to be pricked by the sword of the very young-looking tribute, the one from Svet’s district. A literal small child that should not be here. Not that any of us should really be here. Svet is quick on breaking the silence, questioning the district partner of Dyno Moreno with her naginata. I just hope they are not as obnoxious as Dyno. ”I would just answer her if I were you. You didn’t see what she did to your district partner yesterday.” Not that I did either. Not that I want to know.

I extend out the spear, it seems even taller than the kid that just whacked me with their sword. Instead, I just follow Svet’s lead, hoping the kid catches some sense and runs away from here.

Pogue

Dorothy attacks Steele | Yari (spear)

e0RCZvFyZ4spear

[4.0 damage]

spear

[jackson thomas [d6m] arc]

After the fight, we spent more time traveling. Getting away from there. We needed to give the dead their space.

A fox darted out, and I got ready mentally to swing on it. But it was weird. I stared at it. It stared at me - like a test on my patience, which wasn’t that great typically. The little guy then rushes up to my leg - god, I almost swung, and curls around. Like a snake, but not trying to kill. I don’t think. My eyes met the little dudes again, and after another prolonged silence, it made a quiet yelp. The fox was now lying on its back and staring up at me. Did it want a pet? We had a cat when we were super young, and it sometimes did that when it felt comfortable. I squat down lightly to rub its stomach. It released a motor-like laugh, high-pitched and chained. While it’s cute as hell, it’s loud, and I don’t want to attract anyone. The little furry creature soon darted back away.

How can the arena allow something so pure? Can there be purity in the gates of hell?

I slept to the crackle and rumble of the storm. It purrs, pleased that two bodies have finally been taken away from this place. The fog-like barrier remains, though, hungry for more. It was rough watching Dorothy the rest of the day. Her spirit had been broken in a way. I wanted to say I was sorry, but we both volunteered for this; what else did we expect? It’s in the name of the game. We didn’t sign up to die.

I didn’t, at least.

Maybe she wanted to die. But if she wants to die, why fight? Why not step off before the countdown even ends? You’ve got me damned if I’m supposed to win with a loser, but they’re just as much of a loser as me. There’s no winner yet.

-

My clothes have stayed wet. I don’t have an umbrella to keep em from gettin drenched by the storm, so I just let it rain. I’ll know when it’s time to get up and fight. Besides, it keeps me awake. The adrenaline that flourishes, trying to keep my body warm, it keeps me alive. Dorothy speaks up, our leader ready to move. ”I guess we have to continue on today, that forest ahead looks like good enough shelter.” I follow her lead and we’re greeted with soft, pink flower petals that dance their way down the sky. Their performance is then interrupted by a group of four.

Both Svet and Dorothy are quick to taunt, and seeing them try and intimidate a career was humorous. ”I would just answer her if I were you. You didn’t see what she did to your district partner yesterday.” Given that Dorothy was the one that landed the kill, I had to give props to the girl. She can sure as hell talk shit. The girl from seven was quick to attack. It took everything in my body to not attack her - she’s a threat. Her training score was pretty damn good. It’s impossible to not want to take out a competitive threat.

But we’re here to survive right now, and the weaker is better to survive against than the strong.

”Sup?” My heart wanted to apologize, but my body can’t say otherwise. It’s just business. My spear raises before it's strike, and I gotta say somethin' else. But I don't even know the guy. "What's your name again?" I might as well know the names of my victims.

[kaitlin]

[attacks adan, spear]
mF8XNFSVNZspear
[9.0]

spear

[hesper hart 🐺 d9f]

The storm felt like a warning. Clap of mighty thunder, rage of the skies- even though it was lighter than it had been, every drop of water was an omen and the static of the storm was enough to stand the hair on my arms up at the ends. I shivered against the cold, grateful for the umbrella shielding me from the majority of the water washing down.

Francine had the right idea, pointing us toward the forest. The treetops were doing well to break up the rainfall, and I felt more hidden than I had anywhere else since arriving to the arena. There were more ominous sounds, critters and creepy crawlies wandering around in the pitch while we tried to let the sounds of dripping water lull us into sleep, but I reckon I must've spent more time worrying than I did even bothering to try and close my eyes.

So much for beauty sleep.

Luckily enough for me, the world's beauty standards persisted past my own willingness to participate. I must've finally dozed off some time in the early morning, in that last hour or so before the sun began to rise, because I didn't notice the parachute until it had landed gently in my lap. This time, I could tell just from looking at the box which looked almost exactly the same that it would be another gown.

I offered the obligatory smile up to the clouds, politely read the note again before opening for the contents.

"Each day, we learn new strengths and weaknesses about ourselves. You, my dear, seem to need a little more leg room in order to perform your craft. Do try harder to keep this dress tidy, but always remember: torn fabric can be mended, the rest of you is not quite as resilient."

It was cream-colored satin under a golden damask, mid-calf length with a billowing skirt. Again, expertly designed beyond anything I would've ever come across, or even been able to afford back in Ten. Part of me felt like it might be too precious to wear in such a harsh place, especially after what'd happened to the other one yesterday. But the other part of me knew it was the only purpose of it being sent to me in the first place.

It was strange that someone who'd once been the District One stylist until her retirement had taken such an interest in someone all the way from Ten, but that's the way the pageant world worked. Our sisters were chosen by which circuits we ran in, not by which blood ran through our veins. Like called the like, Momma always said. I wondered if that meant someone as important as Bambi Salcedo had actually heard of me.

I stepped into the brush, slipped it over my head, and came out just in time to see Francine's shoulders stiffen and her gaze sharpen. Feral little thing bounded forward like a bloodhound that'd caught a squirrel's scent before I even had the chance to ask what was wrong. How they'd managed to make it to us without any of us catching on was beyond me- I blamed the atmosphere of the rainfall drowning out the sound of their careful footsteps.

For a brief moment, I figured there was a way we could get away from this. Elm was there, for one, and though we hadn't exactly made friends, they were from home and for some reason that felt like it should matter. Number two, Francine's district partner was there as well. I remembered meeting her in the training center and though she seemed pretty stubborn, she didn't seem entirely foolish.

But violence knew only one name, and it always ended with someone being hurt.

"No!" They fanned out, and I threw my umbrella at them as I clamored backwards. I had to take special care not to trip on any roots or branches and ruin the dress again, because if there was one person out there who was on my side it felt silly for me to try and sever ties with them, but I eventually managed to circle around to the rest of the group. I looked to Elm, my eyes flashing with some sort of plea that wouldn't do any good as the bloodshed began.

I won't lie, my instinct was to run while I could. But after three quick steps in the wrong direction, I realized it would've meant leaving the rest of the people who'd helped me to their deaths. I looked back to see one of theirs take a huge swing at Adan and flinched. Run. Run. Run. My feet wouldn't do it.

I raised my sword instead.

[autumn attacks svetlana, sword]
D4BXKbqX7Esword

[accuracy]
sword
[1083 -- Shallow Cut on Neck -- 4.0 damage +2 ic perk]

sword·sword

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

e l m  -  e r r i n g t o n

After the fight, we traipse away from the pond with a heavy sense of something lost. I know that it’s Dorothy who made the final blow, but it sort of feels like we all did – like I was complicit in the end of the boy’s life. I was there, and I was fighting, and all of this is partially my fault.

I give Dorothy a hug, when I’m able to. I don’t think it does much good for her, or for me, but it’s something. It matters. And despite myself – despite knowing that none of us are going to be okay – I want her to be okay. I want all of us to be okay.

Maybe that’s why Svet left us briefly, to go visit with the boy from One. I don’t know his name. Unlike Svet, I kept my head down in training, my brain too full of fog and heartbreak to really bother. And why would I? Does it help to know someone else out there, to understand more deeply the faces and lives of the people we’re defending ourselves against? I don’t think so. I think it just brings more pain.

Another part of me thinks that perhaps the others would forget that I exist. Like maybe I could melt into the fabric of the Arena and wait there, only to pop up once the fighting was over. Maybe the entire world – Capitol, Districts, everyone – would forget me. You’d think that might be terrifying, that I wouldn’t leave a mark on the world, but I know for a goddamned fact that I don’t want my mark on the world to be… this. Death, killing, theatrics. It’s not me. It’s not fair.

Rainwater drip, drip, drips from the sky, and I’m thankful for my umbrella and boots as we settle in for the night. It’s not a cozy way to rest, but I’m sure it’s better than a lot of the others are doing. Maybe if we head for the trees, they’ll offer some cover…

My thoughts take a long time to slow from their rapid-fire pace, but when I close my eyes, I do eventually drift to sleep. It feels like a miracle.

In the morning, Dorothy takes the lead once again. I want to give her another hug, but decide against it. I think… maybe I’ll be imposing, or maybe she’ll get mad. I don’t know. I just don’t want to hurt anyone, even in small ways, so I keep my distance at the back of the group.

”Pretty,” I say, eyeing the pink blossoms up ahead. The trees will offer some minor shelter from the steady rain, and I’ve never seen any place like it in my life. We had some flowering trees back in District Ten, but never all in one area like this. This is intense, overwhelming, sickly beauty. I want to love it, to allow myself the pleasure of taking it all in, but I’m only reminded of the fact that the most beautiful things are often poison.

”I’d be careful, though,” I tell the others.

With the storm and the meandering paths of the blossom forest, it’s not easy to gather our senses in the same way. I feel both protected and vulnerable at the same time. We trek for a long while, stepping carefully over the paths, when something emerges from the space ahead of us. I’m the last to notice them.

And then —

I catch the eyes of my district partner. My heart clenches in my chest. I didn’t chat much with anyone in the training center, least of all Autumn, because it hurt too much. I couldn’t hold her impending demise alongside my own; I had to let it go.

But god, locking eyes with her gives me the biggest pause of my life. She looks like everyone I’ve ever known from home.

The others burst into a frenzy of movement, taunts, jeers, but I’m stuck with the world feeling immense and heartbreaking in my chest.

But then Autumn moves toward Svet, sword slicing into flesh.

I can’t, I –

I have to.

I grip my weapon in hand and swing. I can’t bring myself to fight Autumn, I don’t dare, but… one of the others.

Maybe, maybe I can fight.

[Elm attacks Adan, spiked blunt]
fhF|6AoQbXspiked blunt
miss

Accuracy
spiked blunt
miss

very in-character, cannot lie

spiked blunt·spiked blunt

[ᴥ]

Theo's blade bites hard and it's supposed to hurt but Adan is pretty sure he's sleepwalking.

Terror holds a home in his lungs, burrowing burrowing burrowing. "I'll take watch." He had offered last night, if only to give himself one more reason not to close his eyes. Nightmares linger there.

His hand hadn't sustained any permanent damage, now a jagged jigsaw of torn flesh gone red and raised. Though no poison remains in his veins, something does. Not so easy to purge as whatever sat in those fucking spiders.

He walked alongside them - his friends he thinks - unaware of the time that passed. Francine is there, not because he can see her but because he takes her for granted. He hopes, but does not know, the other two will remain. The walk was long. The rain was cold and the storm was scary and he was so very tired.

"What's your name again?" Theo asks and Adan smiles. Ah, that is familiar disdain. A thread of reality which pulls him from whatever tepid pond had been drowning him since the fight with the macromantulas. Something as dear to him as his name is often freely given - it feels good to know somebody might not hold it hostage on their tongue.

Even if Adan gets the feeling it's not a question made in good faith.

"Nine letters, three vowels." He bites out through a wince, try as he might Adan cannot even feign resolve - "Give it your best shot, buddy."

He sees Elm's strike coming, puppeteered by sheer adrenaline as he slides out it's path and ending near - Autumn. Twisted anxiety stops his heart dead in his chest and when he glances toward his ally there is only raw fear. Elm and Autumn were district partners. Elm and Autumn bore oaths of security for family and friends to each other, even if only one of them could survive.

He expects to feel the blade of Autumn's knife slip between his ribs.

Why not? Elm is home and Adan is-

nothing.

Always has been, always will be.

He wouldn't even blame her.

But Autumn's knife arcs toward the Svetlana, not Adan.

He blinks away the stinging in his eyes, shaking his head. "Together, then." He tells her, close enough to thank-you.

[adan attacks svetlana - katana]
4SzKmiliMrsword
[8.0]

sword

[arx]

She had felt like it might be a good day, strange as it sounds.

She'd been gifted with a decent sleep, Autumn had a whole new dress that somehow looked more beautiful than the last, the cut along Steele's back had nearly sealed itself back up since her first day here. She'd woken up on the right side of the umbrella, chock full of antivenom and far from where her blood had turned the sand pink in the rain. Adan's broken- "Bubbleboy"? -as he called it was keeping up, and Miss Francine kicked at drenched blossoms the way the kids back home kicked at the leaves clogging the gutters.

If Steele closed her eyes she'd be vulnerable. And she knew that, so she didn't. But if she did close her eyes for just a moment—just a single blink, held just a second too long—she imagined it'd smell like cherry blossoms, sound like extraterrestrial chirping, taste like rain without the smog, feel like a wet cold in her lungs, like a branch reaching out its hand to hold the cotton of her clothes, like the huge rain drops that rolled slowly off leaves and into her lashes.

And, well, maybe- if she was being selfish and could make a wish on that moment -she'd open her eyes and it'd all still be happening.

She had felt like it might be a good day. Again, strange as that fucking sounds.

But clearly she'd waited too long. The moment was gone.

And even with the warning from her shadow friend of the forest, Steele finds herself on the wrong side of—"you know, your district partner doesnt know how to shut up...

A Svetlana to the chest, she supposed, was the rest of that thought.

"how about you?"

She wanted to be able to say something. She did. She thinks? She doesn't know, there's a whole fucking blade buried in her chest and she was pretty sure—"Wanna see what's in the caboose of the train?"—she was going into shock even before the fight had started.

"do you have a story to tell?"

Which was really not good.

Steele tries to move before her ally appears, but her blade finds her stomach anyway.

"I would just answer her if I were you. You didn’t see what she did to your district partner yesterday."

He has a friendly smile. Her district partner. That's really all she could recall.

Again, because of the Svetlana to the chest.

Though Miss Francine moves as quickly as shadows and Steele can see blood where her small friend had appeared, disappeared, and reappeared with a blade to Dorothy's skin. And she had the right idea; easier target.

As for the story?

"Sorry," she pulls her arm to the new holes in her skin, pressing down until her insides hurt so bad that she forgets that they're her outsides now. "No. Not really."

[steele attacks dorothy with her yari (spear)]
_C3w26mf7xspear
[ -- 3.5 damage]

spear

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

It's only when her blade meets skin that she sees her. Oh, Francine squeaks in surprise - her eyebrows raise, arms go limp. Forrester, ghost stories, campfires and train tracks and home. Svetlana. She's with this small girl - oh.

Oh no.

Francine wants to run. She's made a mistake - a terrible mistake. Wisp has gone and she wants to vanish just the same way, like she was never here at all. But she can't. Not now, not after she's started all of this; as she draws her blade back it swings wide across the air and paints a picture of bloodshed, raindrops, pink petals.

She wants to run and hide but they take a jab at Adan - no, Francine steps forward but Autumn is at his side, closer. Good. Steele doubles over, hand crushed against her chest. The spaces between her fingers bleed but she lashes out anyway, helping Francine finish the job.

Little girl from Seven thinks of her yesterday, stabbing those creatures in the eyes like it were nothing. Like Svetlana's blade to her sternum is nothing. But it's not nothing - Francine knows this. It's bad. And she should retaliate, she should, but--

But she's a forest girl. She can't--

not yet. That's her kin, but so are they. So is Steele. Adan.

So she turns and follows Steele's suit, screaming at the top of her lungs something manic. She pretends she's a spider, eight legs and teeth. She spits, adrenaline like poison in her veins. It transforms her. Turns her viscious. Francine tries to save her newfound friends the only way she knows how: being the scariest thing in the room.

francine attacks dorothy, katana (sword)

urtpwu8vq|sword

8

sword

[ryan]

she took a deep breath as her naginata had plunged right into the girl from one. she can feel the muscle tense around the blade, and a part of her is tempted to twist it slightly. after all, this was not a pleasant meeting for any of them. svet had been a trained hunter, she knew exactly how to make someone bleed.

but this was not the place. there was no pride in any of this. becoming a murderer wasnt the hard part.

it was living with it.

but svet had already made her peace with it, and dorothy is right behind her, launching her spear towards the girl from one. she is good at talking up people, svet is always impressed with that. for some reason, svet can tell that everyone there knew that she probably was the threat here. the underdog, the one to watch, the ticking time bomb.

svet might not have went to school for long, but she did know how to read a room.

she felt a cut on her neck that had gone a little too deep for her liking, and she realizes that all of these tributes were converged into one focal point. everyone had been stabbing at someone else, and the bloodshed made svet feel like she was about to have hers.

she looked down for a moment, adan talking to autumn and then talking to theo. it was all becoming confusing... right up until adan had stuck his stuck his sword into svet. she did not even see it coming. "its adan, theo." she spits venom his way, but she also knew that this was just how it had to be. she couldnt be made, no matter how much time each one of them had tried to slice her up.

"that all you got?" svet would always be the cocky one, because she had the confidence to back it up.

finally, through all of this, the girl from one had finally said something. svet locked eyes with her for a moment, her words just direct enough to tell svet that she already liked her way more than her district partner. "good." svet had said, looking to her, and then looking at francine, who she could tell was mortified through all of this. "less words the better." svet had raised her naginata.

"youre district partner is delusional, if you care to know." svet said as she brought her naginata down.

she probably didnt care.

neither did svet.

[d7a svetlana forrester attacks d1a steele cassidy with her naginata | (glaive)]
bmpcT3Dlftglaive
[3.5]

glaive

[d7m fraser birk ♚ frankel]

I wonder what Oz is thinking right now, he is probably standing with his arms crossed at the television with the same look of disapproval he left me with in the justice building. Watching me fight for our healthier life, I am the only one to actually put the effort in to better ourselves. Though while staring down the tip of my spear, perhaps the high councilor aunt could have plucked us from the devil’s grip.

Now is not the time for regretting all of this, not while my own blood weeps against the beauty of this scene.

I have only seen glimpses of the forest that runs along the outskirts of District Eight. A district dominated by grey factories and mills; the pink blossoms contrast the dullness of that hell hole. It is a shame tranquility will soon be stained by the wickedness of death. It is odd how the worst acts can still be conducted against such a peaceful backdrop. At least if it is my time today, my body will be captured by the fallen petals.

The young one’s sword snaps at my hip, it is the first time I have let slip a scream today. Yesterday my screams were rinsed with guilt and today they are wrapped with agony. Do I really want to be questioning the ethics of defending myself right now while I bleed out?

Svetlana is running her mouth again, it is strange how her focus is so fixed on Steele while the others continue to hack at her. Theo and Elm seem to be handling themselves well, not a glimpse of blood on either of them.

”Svet please less talking and more doing. I am bleeding here!” I push forwards with the spear again, following the course of Svet’s naginata towards Steele. I do not want to add another name to the list, but I don’t want mine to be added to it either.

Pogue

Dorothy attacks Steele | Yari (spear)

fW0o9aeDTIspear

[3.5 damage]

spear

[jackson thomas [d6m] arc]

i’m at werque & don’t know how long it’ll be until im home. fuller

probs a lot about cherry blossoms and artsy shit. idk.

[attacks adan, spear]
uRWi_CTJeEspear“spear”

[hesper hart 🐺 d9f]

I could remember the moment of panic after I heard Steele's gasp of pain and my eyes couldn't immediately find her among the chaos. It wasn't unfair of me to fear the worst- I'd been taught not to my entire life, and here I was. But luckily enough, when I finally caught sight of her, she still stood upright. Her hand bled and I couldn't look at it for too long without feeling queasy- "My word-" but the damage didn't seem to be doing a lot to shake her confidence.

My silent plea to Elm wasn't enough, though I reckon it was naïve of me to have hoped that it would be. They were as in control of their friends as I was of mine- battle lines were drawn for reasons exactly like this one. We all chose which side we were standing on, some long before that gong sounded on the first day. There wasn't any amount of begging I could do that almost a hundred other girls in my exact position haven't already begged.

Francine followed Steele: sharp silver and misty white. Taker of life and a life possibly taken- together the two of them were a grayscale master of death. Like the fog of the arena itself obeyed and understood them, as if it followed them and did their bidding. Francine's screams, haunted gales of wind. In Steele's silence, finality.

Adan was different, of course, more interested in surviving in the moment, sure, but maybe in ways that surprised him. He never seemed to expect his aim to be as true as it was, and it often was true, more than it wasn't, at least. Despite his best efforts to convince the world otherwise, he was worth the space he was taking up. He was worth even more, Autumn thought.

And she- well, like Elm had said. Pretty.

Before she could think better of it, she attacked.

[autumn attacks svetlana, sword]
Y6w_xINCtDsword
[1111 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage]

sword

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

e l m  -  e r r i n g t o n

I'm too unfocused. My body feels stretched taut with adrenaline, and my eyes keep flickering to Autumn, my heart torn to shreds with memories of home. Because that's really the only memory of home I have here -- this girl who stood on the stage with me, back in Ten. She's the one person who combines my past with my present.

I want to tell her: I'm sorry, we shouldn't be here, we shouldn't be doing this. We should be at home, relishing the night sky and all of its stars. We shouldn't be on opposite sides of this.

It's why I couldn't talk to her, back in Ten, or on the train, or in the training center. I think a part of me knows that if I said one single word back then, everything I've ever thought or felt or endured would stumble out in a rush, and I'd be left open and vulnerable.

I just want to give her a hug and tell her that everything is going to be fine. But... she's here too, fighting us. She aims her weapon at Svetlana, and though Svetlana doesn't feel like home, she does feel like she's on my side.

Move, Elm, move...

My feet feel stuck in the dirt.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to Autumn, mouthing the words more than speaking them aloud. Not because I'm hurting her ally -- I haven't even touched him -- but because we're on opposite sides of this.

I don't know how I gather the strength to swing. Necessity calls for it, and finally, finally, my body moves forward.

[Elm attacks Adan, spiked blunt]
HMBYP88Wzcspiked blunt
14036 -- BROKEN LEFT FEMUR -- 7.5 damage
(Spiked Blunt) + 1 Strength

spiked blunt

[ᴥ]

He finds himself at the end of a heartbeat.

"Huh." Quiet and surprised the sound slips out, free hand pressing against the places agony escapes him. Deep wounds and fractured bones, broken from the inside out. Without the privilege of having pride, there is only terror. A survivor reduced to anything but, a little boy who has never known mercy and grew up kind anyway.

In spite of himself his eyes fill with anxious tears. A moment of respite as he turns toward Autumn, still beside him as they attack. "I'm sorry I can't be better." He speaks through grit teeth, around the taste of blood. His frustration apparent in the white knuckled grip around his blade. There's something so impersonal about this slaughter. He's sure they're not terrible people - Dorothy is about as big as Francine and Elm's hands shake when their hammer connects with his leg.

And he doesn't want to kill them, he just doesn't want to die.

Nothing waits for him after his heart stops beating, of that Adan is certain. "Can you try to save me anyway, Autumn?" It's the first time he's called her by name. Adan looks at Autumn like he looks to the sun, full of blatant admiration. She is a lot of things that Adan never had the chance to be, so of course he resents her a bit too. But he's glad, really glad, that she and Steele decided to stick around.

"Just to set the record straight." He adjusts his grip on his sword though moving is a whole lot harder than it should be. He looks to Elm and then to Theo, weapons stained with his blood, "If you do kill me here," He hopes against hope they will not, "I'm petty enough to haunt you."

So don't you dare forget me

[adan attacks svetlana - katana]
pIjZ0m30O1sword
[8.5]

sword