eternity & a day — bog boys v marauders, day 3

[fox]

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She catches the orange sun in the stream, mellow in the frothing current. Steam rises from the jade water, it warms her face and feels like a reflection of a fire.

So many times she's seen someone die, and not once has she been to a funeral. Ash sticks to her hands. She dips them into the water and the warm current runs between her fingers. Her seelie glows gold from her bag, humming and bubbling, and emits a gentle light.

The Mother. She can hear the way Calamity said it, with soft veneration.

Even in death, they lay at the altar of their belief, the blade of the knife pointed to their own chest. Her mother prayed too. She went through the motions of it when she was young, faced with all that divinity, but the conviction slipped through her fingers. She hadn't thought about her god for years now.

A god can exist. A god cannot. It makes no difference to her in the end.

Her hands are clean again. Her seelie swirls around in the air, and her eyes follow it up to the sky.

The smoke in the distance is dying down, streak of burning orange withering. The funeral ends.

♦

In the morning, Karl and Johnny are distinctly separated, a shift in tone from the previous evening. She observes them from the branches of a knotted tree where she spent the night on watch. Karl holds Calamity's heart, a greenish tint of rot settling in the organ. Johnny clutches a silver mirror, and the sunlight glints off it.

She climbs down from the branches, dropping quietly to the ground before them.

There was an ease to it, she thinks, how they both deftly cut into Calamity's chest, elbow-deep in gore with unwavering concentration. Killing is hard the first time. And then, it isn't. A person learns how. It stays in them afterwards, it lives where they live. They remember it. She stares at the ashes of the pyre, a blackened spot in the bright green grass.

Karl and Johnny remember.

She looks at them, they look at her. A killer knows a killer.

She clutches her weapon and starts walking.

The trees turn pale pink as they go, heavy with blossoms. That faint, lingering scent that was carried in the wind becomes cloying in its full force. And just like yesterday, a fog comes and it rains. This time, they open their umbrellas and watch the lightning strike in the distance. The sun returns. The petals look pearlescent with dew. The smell of flowers gets heavier with petrichor.

It's Karl that stops first, hearing the voices of other tributes. From a distance, Yael can make out three figures approaching. They get a little bigger and she bristles, staring at his face.

The boy from One, perpetually smiling but not, with his cavalier attitude, his endless talking, all those big words he'd said to her on the roof the night she sat on the edge, contemplating. She draws the glaive up.

He's got the ease of a predator.

She thinks of yesterday, how the sword entered and twisted, done in a blink, Calamity gone. Her grip tightens, fractured arm aching.

She locks eyes with Dyno.

At the last second, she looks away, turns and thrusts the tip of the glaive at the girl beside him.

yael attacks rene | naginata (glaive)
efQfCpCT1sglaive
13185 -- Miss

accuracy, day 3
glaive
13183 -- 8.0 + 1 blades

glaive·glaive

[calla]

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The trees grow thicker further in. Dawn breaks and Karl is the first one up, simply because he never slept in the first place. He sat all night at the bottom of Yael's perch with the jar resting against his knees, Calamity's heart lying dead and dormant inside.

The sun catches the glass when it rises, turning the old blood inside a brighter, fresher red. It looks nearly alive again, almost enough that he can pretend, but the light makes the sound stop. The steady beating that kept him company through the dark putters out until it's silent again - just a lump of flesh and tissue and gore in his lap.

Aed keeps trying to fly against the jar, bumping into it and brushing against it the same way a moth chases a lamp. Karl tries to push it away with his scythe, but it just comes toddling back, rolling its way through the air and turning in on itself.

Karl slips the jar in his bag and firmly pushes the seelie away. It lets out long protesting clicks. It's dim light grows dimmer.

The fog curls around Yael's feet when she climbs down and sticks to Johnny's shoulders as he packs up. The base of Calamity's pyre smoulders as they leave it. The air's still heavy from the storm, it's much quieter under the tree canopy, but the dampness of the fog and the rain sticks to them. Down the main path, petals fall from the trees and Aed is too slow to avoid them. They bounce off of it and twirl to settle to the ground, sticking to Karl's boots and making the path slippery.

He picks an offshoot at random, following the winding stones as they become less frequent, until they're trailing only a thin line of dirt.

He's done a good job of avoiding Johnny so far. It's awkward, he recognizes that, but Karl lacks the deep sense of embarrassment that he knows he should have. There's no shame to him in the morning, and when the three of them walk single-file, he doesn't look back.

It was just a test. An experiment. An offer. It didn't work, so now he knows that he'll have to try something else.

Everyone wants something.

He freezes then, comes to a dead stop in the mouth of an arch. Aed creaks and tucks itself under the brim of his hat.

It's funny, how he doesn't see Dyno first. He hears him, and that simple sound is enough to make him go still, listening. When what remains of the fog dissipates and the career pack steps through, it's not quite the ones from Four that Karl is afraid of.

Yael darts out in his hesitance, moving like a shot while Karl is stuck on Dyno and the koi ponds, Johnny and the stream. Same coin, different outcomes, he hasn't decided which one is more dangerous but deep down he knows.

He knows, and he stares at Dyno until Yael stabs the girl beside him, drawing red, and then it's Calamity again, it's the heart again, staying up all night and staring into a glass case thinking that maybe if he tries hard enough he'll be able to decipher the morse code beats coming from inside.

The heart in his bag starts to echo, he can hear the thump-thump-thump of it, can feel the pull of it like it's an anchor and he's in the water, weighed down with the rest of the bodies. A girl bleeds and that suddenness sneaks up on him again, something crawling up his throat and trying to get out.

He edges behind Yael, just enough so that he can breathe through the ticking in his skull and the numbness that settles down across his hands.

There are four careers around him. He thinks of the pyre and his grip tightens on the scythe.

He tries to focus on Four's face but his gaze keeps drifting to the blood.

You have to do it, Calamity had said, Take it.

Okay.

Karl steps up next to Yael on the path, blocking them.

The dead go to the water. He knows this - lives and breathes it. He's the proof.

"You're going the wrong way." He says softly.

karl attacks rene | scythe (glaive)
A60DUIBZCfglaive
13078 -- Stabbed in Chest -- 9.5 damage + 1 blades

glaive

[10th retro gm | paxton hayes]

Soaking wet clothes weigh him down making every movement hard to move, but the weight of the world presses down on heavily on his shoulders. Nobody would know, though. His face is clear of emotions, yet his heart is heavy, it aches, the strings torn apart without a care in the world. A crying heart bleeds, pounds, begs for some sort of relief, but Maverick knows nobody can save him now. From the moment he volunteered, his name was written for death. Experiencing it up close and personal, though, makes him realize just how frail life truly is. All it takes is one wrong movement, just being in that wrong place at the wrong time.

But it's all part of the game.

Right?

A silent sigh leaves his chest as his eyes turn towards the sky. The rain cleans away the blood, yet the soil beneath his feet devour its prey as it soaks up the crimson red. He can't bring himself to look at Dyno or Rene, no, he can only look ahead and every now and then turn around to make sure nobody is following them. The four they saw are probably close by, and right now the only thing on Maverick's mind is finding a place to hide. Getting far away from the pond is the only idea.

Once he finds a place to rest, Maverick throws his bag on the ground and plops himself down next to it and leans against a tree.

"I'll take watch. You two get some sleep."

It's mostly because his mind is racing, but part of him wants them to sleep to allow them the chance to recover since he apparently kept them up the night before. But being alone also offers him a chance to truly let his feelings and emotion rise to the surface to feel them instead of bottling them up with a blank face nobody can see through. Being a career means being strong and brave and cold hearted, yet Mav is far from that, and playing the part is becoming more and more difficult.

Slowly the night drifts on around him, and part of him wonders if the others are sleeping in a peaceful slumber or if they're fighting the same feelings, the same broken heart, the emotional exhaustion. It's only the second night, yet his entire world is crashing down around him. Seeing the anthem play, looking at the faces of the falling, it makes it real. Two souls will never see the light of day again. Two families are mourning, but it's only going to get worse.

This is only the beginning.

Once everything around him is quiet, Maverick becomes one with the storm and allows the tears to fall down his face. I was right there. I was going to help him. I was so close, but I couldn't save him. Duke screaming as he falls into the water is forever etched into his mind, but seeing the blood pouring from his head is something he'll never forget either. I'm not supposed to care, I'm not supposed to get close to people. I'm a career, and careers don't care. The training is supposed to turn him into a cold hearted monster, but Maverick has a heart of gold, and the idea of murdering someone, or seeing someone get killed rests heavily on his mind despite being in the midst of the hunger games in a dog eat dog world.

I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to care. I'm not supposed to let anyone stand in my way. I'm supposed to be cold-hearted. I'm not supposed to care.

His head rests on his knees, and it's a moment of vulnerability, of weakness, of letting himself crumble beneath the weight of the world before a new day begins.

I shouldn't care. He's one less person standing in my way.

A crash of thunder echoes through the sky.

But I care.

Part of saving Ezera was to give him another chance because he deserved it. Even though Duke volunteered, he didn't deserve to die even though he has to for Mav to make it home alive. Duke was a good person, a good ally, a good friend, and he deserved so much better, but at least he's sleeping peacefully in an eternal slumber.

Wiping his eyes, Maverick takes a deep breath. It's getting light out, and now it's time for a new beginning.

As the rain continues pouring down, Mav slowly makes his way over towards his sleeping ally. Dyno had a chance for a good night sleep, and now it's time to make him pay.

"Get up, Dyno." He says as he kicks him in the ribs. "This is payback for waking me up." But he's completely caught off guard when Dyno jumps awake with his sword in his hand, yet when he starts grumbling, Mav can't help but chuckle. "Good morning to you too. Payback's a bitch."

Karma always falls back on people, and now Dyno knows how it feels to wake up to a foot to the ribs.

"It is a bitch, and it's a great morning to go kill someone."

These words never would've left his lips before yesterday, but now the only thing on he's capable of doing is becoming the career he's destined to be. It makes his feelings even better when Dyno smiles. All his life, Mav felt like an imposter, and now he has the chance to prove he's not. He has the chance to show those who counted him out that he's better than they ever imagined -

"Oh Mav, you're gonna kill someone? Sounds sexy."

It almost feels as though Dyno is mocking him, belittling him, making fun of him for being such an imposter, and it makes his blood boil. But his breaths are calm, and his face remains clear of any sort of emotion. Letting someone know they got to him only makes things worse, and right now Mav needs every ounce of strength he can get.

"Not going to stand around and let them come find and kill me or any of you. They want blood? I'll give them blood." He slams the tip of his spear into the ground. All anyone cares about is watching people die. They want to experience the pain and agony while cheering for their favorites and crying when one of them die.

Dyno smirks, and Mav still feels as though the world is crashing down around him, but he offers a smile back.

"Mmmmmmmm I love to see it. We'll kill whoever gets in our way. We're not gonna let anyone else get the jump on us again."

"Then let's move while we have somewhat of a clearer day."

One by one he starts packing up his belongings.

"Alright, let's move. Wanna bet on who will get a kill first?"

Betting isn't something he understands, yet he knows it's important to play a role, to pretend he understands when he actually doesn't.

"I'll get a kill first." He says with confidence, and he turns towards Rene, "But watch Rene snag the first one. She hasn't said a word, and seeing Dyno smirking again, Mav finally feels accomplished.

"I'd like to see you try. I'm gonna be sure to get a kill before you both."

Game on.

A devious grin spreads across his face, and for the first time, he feels like the idea of being an imposter is turning away in the blink of an eye.

Maybe I can do this.

"Bring it on."

And without saying another word, Maverick turns away and starts walking deeper into the forest, but before going too far, he turns back.

"Yo, Rene, are you coming or not?" Now isn't the time to lay around and ignore the world ahead. If they don't move, it's very possible the gamemakers force them to move.

"Will you two shut up please? Peace and quiet is a thing. I get neither of you two."

Oh, well, someone is bitter to have been woken up to a couple of careers setting up a competition.

"Peace and quiet doesn't exist. It's simply a figment of your imagination." Rene just stares at him with what looks like bewilderment, and Maverick knows his job here is done.

Without another word, he starts moving forward taking in the trees, the pink blossoms and leaves. It looks so magical, but he knows looks are deceiving.

And without a second thought, a group of tributes are upon them.

"Dyno, Rene, watch out!" He shouts as he readies his spear turning towards the one from two who struck first.

"You're standing in my way, and it's time for you to move."

credit to griffin <3

Maverick attacks Yael with spear
FfxeAwBi47spear
3095 -- Deep Gash on Cheek -- 8.5 damage + 1 strength + 1 rivalry spear

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

► ► ►

There was more awkwardness than usual in the air this morning.

Calamity's pyre was almost out, and the smell of their burning flesh had been muted by the down pour of rain that had poured from clouds that buzzed with electricity. I had meant to clear the air with Karl last night, but he had made every effort to avoid me, much like Yael had done that morning. Perhaps it was for the best, the guy unnerved me anyways, what did it matter that he refused to look me in the eye?

Why did I care?

I shouldn't care.

It was annoying that I did.

* 

Yael had been so quick to disappear last night that I had been left stewing over what had just happened, thumb running soothingly over the smooth, shiny stone I had found the day before. What the fuck just happened? The thought had run through my mind in what felt like an endless loop, making my already foggy head, even more unclear. Did he like me? No, that doesn't seem right. My hand had tightened around the stone. We were drunk. Yeah.

Silence.

Fuck. I almost kissed Karl- I wanted to kiss Karl. What the fuck? Shit. Flynn is probably losing his shit. I am so fucked.

Sighing I had leaned back against the tree, examining the sky and the angry looking clouds that were rolling in.

No, not you. Please get out of my head. Not one god damn moment of peace around here.

That was odd. That kinda of sounded like a voice. Like Rene-

Rene? WHAT THE HELL!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HEAD YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!

Was I going crazy?

I had to be going fucking crazy.

The shock of Rene in my head had the stone fall from my hand, as I had jumped up from my spot, instantly drawing my sword. She had to have be here. She had to have be spying on me from the tree line like a fucking creep. There had been no other logical reason. "Come out!" I had hissed aggressively, careful to not disturb Karl or Yael. "Show you face, or are you too scared? Big bad shark scared of a little guppy?"

There was no response.

There was no movement from the tree line.

I was alone.

Bending down I pick up the stone, frowning slightly, but do not sheaf my sword.

-out of my mind If I keep talking to you.

My frown deepened, the stone! it had felt like a eureka moment. I'm not crazy! You might be, though- but not me. Well, maybe not on a surface level. Maybe I am a little crazy. I mean I had thought about kissing Karl. Thats crazy right?

Silence.

Rene? Oh come on. I know you're there.

I had been greeted with more silence.

Fine. I'll talk, you'll listen. I have a lot to unpack.

I was drunk, and Rene was a good distance away. Yael wasn't a good listener, or speaker. And Karl... Well, Karl was half my problem.

I almost cheated on my boyfriend. I'm not a good guy, Flynn knows that- Calamity thought I was a good guy. They are dead by the way. Skewered right through the throat- kind of like a fish kebab. I paused for a moment, frowning, it's disrespectful to talk about the dead like that. What does it mean if seeing someone die doesn't bother me, but almost kissing Karl does? Maybe I was crazy.

We pulled their heart out. It's in a jar now. Kinda green. Rotting you know.

A long silence.

Rene. Don't you dare be falling asleep on me! I'm pouring my heart out here! If I catch you sleeping I'm going to have to kill you!

*

"Rene..."

Fuck.

Instantly, Yael had her glaive out, thrusting it towards Rene's throat, just like the boy had done yesterday. However, Rene was a Career, she was quick, the blade puncturing the flesh of her arm, protecting her throat. However, she was unable to stop Karl, he ducks beneath Yael, burying his glaive into her chest.

He was going for her heart.

And he was so damn close, it wouldn't have surprised me if he had let go of his weapon all together, using the moment to pry his way into her chest cavity and rip out her still beating heart.

My eyes meet with Rene's for a moment, broken by the boy from four who tries to bat Yael off his district partner. The spear finds her face, blood gushing from the gaping wound.

However, it is not the boy from four who draws my attention, but the guy in the back who is smirking, he was loving each and every moment of this. I watched as he dragged his gaze over Karl, there was a look of hunger there, mixed with something else.

It was unnerving. But in a different way from Karl. From Yael and from Calamity.

What the fuck was wrong with the tributes this year?

My hand reaches for the nunchucks I had found back on day 1. I wasn't exactly sure how to use them, and I give them a test swing, playing with the weight. They felt awkward.

But I was starting to get pretty comfortable with awkward.

Throwing my pack onto the ground I move towards the smirking boy in the back. I had a feeling that if I didn't kill him first, he would be the last one standing. And I couldn't have that.

[ Johnny attacks Dyno with nunchucks ]
tYkkU4Rcqgblunt
[ 3.5 ]

blunt
[ 2.5 ]

blunt·blunt

[Tom]

Death resides in the back of his mind; always there with the memory of the day he's had. Bruised body, bruised knuckles, and the wet shirt sticking to his chest are the reminders of a game played. Duke Nixton's blood was disappointing. A kill meant for Dyno Moreno's own hands, stolen by someone else. A grimace as he lifts himself forward and away from the pond where the swirling orange and white creatures reside. Swiftly shedding his shirt for a second to wring water out of the damned thing. Maverick and Rene from Four were still there. Waiting for him with those eyes always watching, almost as if the two could read him for what he is. Dyno just gives a disappointed sigh as he brings his head away from Svetlana Forrester's words.

Delusional? Him? No, he was going to get the crown. The only truth was his own words. A Forrester can believe whatever false deity they swear by, but Dyno Moreno was born for the games. Born for blood. Born to destroy. Born to be better. No one would convince him otherwise. Even in the scramble back from Svetlana, he'd found a most perfect gift from the gamemakers. No one had to know of his special gift, but he did manage to fumble out a thank you to the sky as if the gamemakers would hear him. The grin on his lips filled with the blackened irony of his own disappointment, but Duke was a sacrifice they'd have to accept. Disappointed in the legacy tribute, but all of them will fade away eventually. All but one.

The rain cleans away the red of his chest. Swirling water of pink and red soaking the soil below him, eyes focused on the stain in the beautiful arena. The calm had already subsided and left behind a storm. Bloody, bruised, and annoyed. Dyno Moreno was ready for the next battle to be won. Anger scarred along his skin as the wound Svetlana pierced into his chest. The anger chills through him as he stumbles back into his shirt and finds Rene and Mav. The two of them not far away from where he'd been. Duke's body long since gone, but Dyno can feel the calm begin. Thread through his chest as he breaths carefully, showing no signs of harm. He can take pain. He can take blood. He can't take failure.

Morenos don't fail.

Not anymore. Dyno wasn't going to let his name be the continuation of failure for him. A legacy haunts everything he does, but he'll be more than that. "I'll take watch. You two get some sleep." Maverick's voice is filled with an unreadable emotion. Dyno wants to ask, except there's no reason to. They aren't going to care for one another. Dyno refuses to get attached. Nodding carefully, Dyno rolls himself out on the ground. Eyes staring up at the sky, he doesn't sleep. Meticulously, he counts the stars one by one. Views the stars as the parts of home he's left behind, scattered about. His mother. His sister. The boys and girls who thought he'd stay forever. The countless of journals locked away in a drawer where no one but his sister could find.

The faces glitter above. Empty eyes staring back at him. Duke Nixton and Calamity Grace. Three and Twelve. Two faces out of his way from the crown ahead of him. Duke's eyes feel less comforting than before. An ache at the pit of his stomach that doesn't quite fade away. The memory of the day before coming back to him. The water had been a safe choice. With the Fours and himself, they'd be able to overpower any of the others. Dorothy Hope lived up to her name. Always a pain in the side for all the tributes. Hopes always become a problem eventually. Gritting his teeth at the thought, Dyno rolls over to avoid the sky and his own thoughts. Journal at his side, he focuses on the words written there.

Don't let anyone get underneath your skin. You are the king here.

The dreams come after the journal is put away, tucked underneath everything. Blood, water, and anger fill his head. Dorothy Hope's corpse laying in front of him. Svetlana's eyes bleeding. The words running over and over in his mind. "You are delusional, Dyno Moreno." It's coming from Svetlana's lips, but he can see his mother, his father, his sister there. Dancing to the music playing over. Delusional, the dream screams. Delusional, his subconscious scream. Delusional. Delusional. Delusional. Driving his sword through Svetlana, he watches those bloody eyes go dark as a grin too wide, too big fills his vision. Reaching forward, she pulls for his heart. The dark is painful as he stares back, until he wakes up.

"Get up, Dyno." A kick to his ribs as Dyno feel the fluttering ache of pain there for just a second. "This is payback for waking me up." Jumping to his feet, holding the sword out in front of him, he swears under his breath for a second. The memory of his dream flooding back into him. Noticing Mav, he drops the sword to the ground, rubbing his eye with his other hand. The exhaustion had caught up to him, but he's feeling sluggish in comparison to the other day. Grumbling out his words, he aims them towards Maverick.

"Good morning to you too. Payback's a bitch."

Maverick seems to be in a better mood than himself. Payback's a bitch. Dyno's already planning the ways to wake Mav from his sleep later. Though, he started this whole thing when he kicked Mav the night before. The snoring was a lot. Could you blame him? Rubbing at his eyes once more, there's a tension still behind his heart. The dream still bleeds in his skin. The wound closed on his chest, but red darkens the spot there. Focusing back on the task at hand, he hears Maverick once more.

"It is a bitch, and it's a great morning to go kill someone." Unable to help himself from grinning at Maverick, he stretches his arms out as he watches. A pleasant surprise from being woke up from his sleep. The hum underneath his skin at the sight of Maverick's words, Dyno can't help being interested in whatever was brewing. In a way, Mav had become so much hotter to him in just a second. Spilling blood would be fun with Maverick, it's already been fun enough to see Svetlana's blood spill from their weapons. Except, Maverick hadn't killed her yesterday. Neither had he, but Duke died because of them. It's a bitter truth to accept, but it's the truth.

"Oh Mav, you're gonna kill someone? Sounds sexy."

There's a teasing edge to his words. The taste of a blade along the edges of his lips, almost ready to cut deep, but Dyno could hold the words back. Lean into the words with his eyes, darkening with an excitement. Trained to kill, Dyno wanted to see Maverick actually take someone out. It'd put a whole new image of Maverick into his mind, but instead, he stays teasing. Maverick was a handsome man and if Dyno got to watch him strike down another, well it'd be a perfect day. "Not going to stand around and let them come find and kill me or any of you. They want blood? I'll give them blood." The ground shakes with the impact of a spear, echoing the sentiment of the Capitol. They wanted blood. They would provide them with blood.

The smirk on his lips is filled with all the desire in the world, a new glint of interesting bubbling forth. Maverick's face is as blank as before, but there's more to him. Dyno can feel the masks all three of them have put up. Perfectly fine with these masks, he doesn't need friends. They're a means to an end. He'll have to keep reminding himself that every time Maverick talks of killing others. A hum from the back of his throat comes forth as he continues it into his words.

"Mmmmmmmm I love to see it. We'll kill whoever gets in our way. We're not gonna let anyone else get the jump on us again."

"Then let's move while we have somewhat of a clearer day."

The rain's started to slow a bit more. The chill of the morning shakes through him, but Dyno only shakes the feeling off with his own smirk. Packing his things up, Dyno gives a small smile as he pulls his backpack to his back. The day would bring about new blood to spill. Or the same blood. As he looks to Maverick once more, he gets a fun idea in his head. Something to entertain them on their walk to wherever they'd end up going. The forest up ahead seemed pretty enough to check out. Plus, they'd need supplies soon enough.

"Alright, let's move. Wanna bet on who will get a kill first?"

There's not a long pause before Mav speaks. "I'll get a kill first." Luckily, Mav turns away. Dyno can't help the genuine smile burning onto his lips. Though, he continues. "But watch Rene snag the first one." The smile on his lips stays there, but there's a glint of competitiveness now. The way his hand clenches tighter around his sword as he smiles outwardly to them both. The taste of excitement on the edge of his lips. Ruin. He wants to ruin them and win this game of theirs that's forming. The words slip out of his mouth with a ferocity only he could accomplish.

"I'd like to see you try. I'm gonna be sure to get a kill before you both."

The smile on Maverick's face is enough to make Dyno's hairs stick up on end. A heavy smile filled with all of his excitement for a competition. Memories of his sister and him competing in dumb bets back home at the career training center. A laugh wants to escape his throat, but he keeps the feeling to himself as he hears Mav turn away. "Bring it on." Dyno follows along, watching the pink petals start to dance in the wind.

"Alright, lead on tough guy."

The static of the air fills him with an ease. The crackling of danger surrounds them, but he's always loved the sense of danger. The excitement at the edges of his vision, not knowing of what could come across them. Maverick's voice comes through as he turns to Rene. Dyno's intrigued by all of this. "Yo, Rene, are you coming or not?" Smirking, he lays his own words on thick for her.

"Yeah Rene, you coming?"

All he can see is the bitterness of her words. A hum in the air of electricity as he smiles at her, knowing they're gonna get under her skin. Always was fun to worm himself underneath people's skin and find the buttons to push to get them to do what he wants. "Will you two shut up please? Peace and quiet is a thing. I get neither of you two." A laugh wants to drift from his lips, but he doesn't let it. Instead he makes a motion to rub at his chin, teasingly looking to Rene as he speaks.

"Nah, it's time to go. You can get your peace and quiet after you kill someone."

"Peace and quiet doesn't exist. It's simply a figment of your imagination."

Maverick's words make him actually laugh as he turns back to the path ahead of them. Petals dancing around them, pink and fluttering in the wind. Lanterns line the path as he walks, staring at the breeze coming across. His eyes focus on the area around them as he watches the petals dance. The static of electricity humming in the air makes him curious to how the gamemakers have created this mystical looking place. Instead, he keeps the thoughts to himself. He's about to speak more, when he hears them. "Think anyon-"

Yael Damaris locks eyes with him. The glaive in her hands towers above like an execution waiting to be brought down. Of all careers, they would run into a heavily trained one. Two has gotten old. They're worn down. Pathetic careers in comparison to One and Four. Except, he watches her with an empty stare. Keeping his eyes clear, focusing on the task at hand. A question behind them, flooding in a small way as if to ask, what are you going to do?

A second passes before she looks away, bringing the glaive to Rene, cutting into her arm. Dyno grinds down on the feeling, watching her carefully. "Dyno, Rene, watch out!" Mav's voice shakes him from this stalemate as he hears another. Except, he's surprised to see Karl Jardens with her. Scythe sinking into Rene's chest, but Dyno hadn't been expecting them both. No, he was expecting weaker tributes. Maverick moves quicker than him. Stuck in this stalemate as Dyno wants to say something, but instead he stays silent. The burning rage of the day before still lingering in his gut. Maverick strikes strong on Yael. The true threat of the ones there.

When he's about to speak, there's a pause. The thumping of a weapon against his leg. Looking back, there's Johnny from Six behind him. The smirk on his lips stays, but instead he lets the excitement and anger bubble there. Let's himself enjoy the feeling of the throb in his legs now as he speaks carefully to Six. "Pathetic form. It's going to get your friends killed, Johnny. Good on you for knowing the real threat here." Looking back up to Yael and Karl, he turns away from Johnny. The guy won't be a problem. Holding his sword out, he points it towards Karl as he speaks.

"You've picked the wrong battle, Karl. I let you go once. Do you think I'll do it again?" Shifting a step closer, he laughs darkly as he watches Yael and him. "A kiss won't stop me this time, Karl." Focusing back on Yael, he gives a smirk as he stares carefully to her. There's the memory of the rooftop. The way he fell and his his back to the cement. Yael Damaris was more of a threat than Karl and Johnny. In another world, they could've worked together, but not anymore. Rene was his to keep. Rene would be his kill in the end. A laugh from his lips as he continues to speak, reaching into his pocket.

"Should've gone for me when you had the chance, Yael." Dripping the sticky tar over his sword quickly, he keeps staring at Yael. Striking the flint against the blade, he lets the fire lick over the edges of his vision. Hiding part of his face as he grins wider and focuses on her. "I won't make that mistake." The adrenaline of a fight starts to burn through his skin. The heat of his own blade burns heavy as he looks to the others around him. Karl would die all the same. Johnny wasn't a threat. Yael was the one who could kill. Who would've guessed they'd pick her. Letting the laugh leave his throat, he pushes forward.

Fire fills his vision as the petals dance around them.

Bringing down his sword, the reflection of himself is all he sees in the metal surrounded by fire.

It's everything he wants.

(Dyno Moreno uses Jar of Tar and Flint to alight his sword)

(Dyno Moreno attacks Yael Damaris with flaming katana [Sword])
7ca0F_NsXQsword
(Deep Gash on Right Thigh 8.0 +1 Blades)

1-50
(Moderate Burn +4)

sword·1-50

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

The one bad thing about taking a swim in clothing that isn't swimwear isn't how heavy it becomes, no, it's how it latches onto my body and holds me in a vice grip refusing to let go. It's why I never went swimming street clothes, but Dyno gave me no choice. He quickly took the fight to the water, and maybe that was our mistake because now we're down in numbers, and it doesn't look like we'll be able to come out on top of anything unless we find another alliance that is weaker than us. But seeing people die and knowing that Duke is one less person standing in my way is important to making sure I come out of this chaotic storm alive. My life is all I care about. While I may pretend to care about Duke, Dyno, and Maverick, I don't really care about them. They're just pawns in my game, and I will use them until I no longer need them. I just wish I could find a change of clothes because this uniform is almost too heavy to wear.

Having the training I need, though, I know when a fight is over, and I reluctantly follow behind Mav unsure of where Dyno ran off to. When Maverick stops, I move a little further ahead because I need a moment to just sit by myself and take it all in. I would've been hit had I not dove under the water. My face would light up the anthem had I been on the surface. It easily could've been me, but that's all part of the hunger games. All that matters is somehow I'm still alive. Soaking wet, but that will go away in time. I've learned that I need patience.

I take a breath and start digging through my backpack, but I keep my eyes darting around back and forth making sure nobody is going to sneak up on me when my hand runs across this tiny stone sitting at the bottom of my bag. I pick it up and start looking at it -

What the fuck just happened?

What? What's going on? This isn't my voice. This isn't my thoughts. None of this makes sense to me, but it keeps going.

Did he like me? No, that doesn't seem right. We were drunk. Yeah.

This voice sounds familiar, yet I'm having trouble placing it until it dawns on me. It's Johnny.

Fuck. I almost kissed Karl- I wanted to kiss Karl. What the fuck? Shit. Flynn is probably losing his shit. I am so fucked.

I look at the stone, and I look around trying to make sense of everything that's going on. My mind is racing, and part of me wonders if I'm hearing things. I don't even know if it's possible, but maybe it is since I've been awake for two straight days now. No, not you. Please get out of my head. Not one god damn moment of peace around here.

I twirl the stone in my fingers. All I want is some peace and quiet, and a chance to close my eyes and get some much-needed rest, but it seems so far away.

Rene? WHAT THE HELL!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HEAD YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!
Was I going crazy? I had to be going fucking crazy.

I'm looking around making sure nobody notices me moving around a lot, and Maverick is keeping watch which makes me happy, but right now I wish he'd go to sleep too so I can further investigate this stone while trying to keep myself from going insane.

You're definitely crazy. Maybe i am too. Definitely out of my mind If I keep talking to you.

I'm not crazy! You might be, though- but not me. Well, maybe not on a surface level. Maybe I am a little crazy. I mean I had thought about kissing Karl. Thats crazy right?

I sigh, but for the first time, I don't let myself think of anything. Instead, I curl up on the ground next to a tree with my spear in my hand. It's a little terrifying knowing that he's talking in my head. It's frustrating knowing that I can't get some peace and quiet here. It's hard to even think of anything to respond with.

Rene? Oh come on. I know you're there.

What does he not understand? Doesn't he realize that I don't want to talk to him? I just want to lay here and try to get some sleep because it's been so long since I've had any, and my eyes are heavy, and I know I can't survive like this much longer.

Fine. I'll talk, you'll listen. I have a lot to unpack.

Oh great, here we go. I'm sure he has a lot to say, and I'm sure he's going to pour out his soul to me and make himself completely vulnerable, but quite frankly, he's also just another pawn in this game. I just wish he'd leave me alone. I wish he'd go bother someone else. Find someone else's mind to infiltrate, but it isn't enough.

I almost cheated on my boyfriend. I'm not a good guy, Flynn knows that- Calamity thought I was a good guy. They are dead by the way. Skewered right through the throat- kind of like a fish kebab. I paused for a moment, frowning, it's disrespectful to talk about the dead like that. What does it mean if seeing someone die doesn't bother me, but almost kissing Karl does? We pulled their heart out -

I finally let the stone fall out of my hand. I didn't need to know that they pulled out someone's heart and are carrying it around but knowing that Johnny nearly kissed Karl gives me something I can use against him in the future, and I'm very excited to do so. For now, though, I'm going to try to get some rest, and it's nice now that Johnny isn't in my brain anymore.

But my night isn't calm. Instead, I toss and turn, and just as I'm about to drift off to sleep, I hear Maverick waking Dyno, and I know it's time for a new day to begin. I pretend that I'm sleeping because part of me wants to hear what they're talking about, what they're saying to one another, and maybe I can find something that will assist me in this game. After a while, though, I realize that I have nothing to go off of. I'm about to roll over when Dyno brings up a bet about getting a kill, and I listen as Mav says I'll likely get the first one. I can't help the grin that spreads across my face, yet it goes away as quickly as it comes because Mav is ready to go, and they're not wanting to stand around and get jumped. Which is very understandable.

They both turn around and ask me if I'm coming, and I feel as though they're trying to herd me around like I'm some foolish child. "Will you two shut up please? Peace and quiet is a thing. I get neither of you two." But my words fall on deaf ears because Dyno is rubbing his chin and saying that I'll get my peace and quiet another time after I kill someone, and Mav has to ruin the day by saying it's simply a figment of my imagination. What is this guy on? What is he doing? I sigh and turn towards Dyno, "How about you...." I mutter under my breath hoping nobody can hear me.

Then we're moving out without a care in the world, and I'm letting the boys go first so that if someone finds them, they're the first to get attacked, and I can act as a heroic career coming in to save the day, but it's all blocked away when the district two tribute walks past Maverick and Dyno and slices deep into me with her blade. My cheeks burn red, and I feel my face flushing, and I don't even feel the next attack. I hear Maverick's weak reply telling us to watch out, but it isn't enough. These two set me up, and now I'm going to pay the price for what they've done.

An evil grin spreads across my face as I grip my spear tight in my hands. Maverick clearly can take on the career from two, and maybe Dyno will join in. Instead, I'm going to turn my attention towards the one I assume is Karl since Johnny told me he almost kissed him. "I can finally shut you up Johnny. Your friend dies. Now."

Rene attacks Karl | Spear

p1lurFr_0mspear
3034 -- Deep Gash on Chest -- 9.5 damage +1 strengthspear

[fox]

► ► ►

It surprises her, for a moment, when Karl steps up and blocks the path. He's somehow more corporeal, firmer in his existence in the morning.

He goes straight for the heart and just barely misses.

She raises the glaive again, but this time, a dart of silver scrapes against her peripheral, a declaration from an unfamiliar voice following it.

Sharp sting on the left, the spear makes contact with her cheek. Blood slips down her chin in warm, rolling beads, and she can taste liquid iron, something heavy on her tongue between gritted teeth. Who is this boy – some blonde thing from Four? A swelling starts from her chest that tides over her. Snarling, she spits out the taste of metal.

But she doesn’t get the chance to take care of the nuisance – One barrels between them and stands squarely on the path.

"A kiss won't stop me this time, Karl."

She registers it above the sound of blades clashing.

Karl lived in Eleven. He had his cranberries and his farm and his body. Born with nothing, she learned when there's a dearth of power, anything becomes a weapon. She watches him, how he stands there listlessly, the blade of his scythe bright red.

Or maybe he's just stupid.

With Karl, she does not know.

Dyno's gaze moves slowly to her. She tenses beneath it. He speaks with a strange inflection, an unnatural pretense of ease that makes her want to drive the tip of the glaive into his head. A pillar of light hovers between them, ghostly in the sun, his hand curled around the hilt of it. "Should've gone for me when you had the chance, Yael."

Something a little deeper than anger hungers in her stomach, twists and crawls from her.

There's his pride, his arrogance, his sheer entitlement.

They didn't choose men to become Widows. Because men fought for history books, chased the ideals of distinction and courage and consequence with little care for how they'd obtain that legacy. Because men thought they deserved something from the world, didn't they?

No, take a girl and have her kill instead. She'll do it quietly. She's known how – she learned when she watched her own mother smother some part of herself in private in the starkness of day and go on, into another room full of men, like nothing had happened. Give a girl a knife and watch her use it, without embellishment, without ego. She kills because she has to, because there is little option in the world for people like her.

She thought she hated Karl because he unnerved her with his eeriness, his unreadable hazy softness. He stands there like a fog over a dark lake.

Dyno swings, laugh on his lips, burning in the forest and she burns too. There's a scream inside of her that makes her bones ache, but she swallows it, pushes it down, the effort of it shaking her frame. The fire flickers in the wind. The smells of blossoms and ash are still buried deep in their clothes, in their memory. She inhales, a jagged breath, and pulls herself together.

She doesn't hate Karl.

Because now she knows Dyno.

There he is – the worst type of man. All he does is take.

The first time, when she came out of solitary after twenty six days, what did they tell her then, the instructor who dragged her from the cell with a lazy smile, her wrists bruised to a pulp from the cuffs they chained her with? She'd sat there, in a daze, the light in her eyes –

Patience is a virtue.

The girl embeds her spear into Karl and Yael grips her glaive.

She'll deal with him later.

yael attacks rene | naginata (glaive)
RpBq9gwjZnglaive
bit of a miss

glaive

[calla]

► ► ►

The scythe finds the heart like its being called to it. Four's chest cracks open and accepts it in, the metal slides slick and misses the organ by a hair.

The thump-thump-thump of the jar in his bag grows louder.

Karl rocks back when the scythe recedes, landing unsteady on his heels, falling two steps back. The blood swims down from blade to handle until the length of the scythe is coated with it.

"Rene," the district partner says.

It means nothing.

Yet Karl looks at them both so he won't have to look at Dyno. He doesn't react to the taunt, but he does shrink away from it, just slightly.

"I let you go the first time." Dyno reminds him, beautiful and cruel from a distance, "Do you think I'll do it again?"

And he's burning. He is the pyre. Dyno stands alight between the trunks of two trees and he turns to Yael, washing her out like a sun spot. It all happens very quickly then. Karl blinks and the light changes. He breathes and Yael is red. His chest hitches and Dyno is copper, amber, his sword slices through her leg like it's nothing.

There's that career training.

There is that little feeling in the back of his skull that told him to take his chances, jump over the bridge railing and run.

The whole world shifts into technicolour, sharpening, a kiss won't stop me this time, there is Calamity and there is a calamity, both of them hanging somewhere on the outskirts, somewhere above and somewhere below, somewhere in the little spaces along your spine.

Thump-thump-thump goes the heart.

It's like the sound of the twin horses, the red and the white, four hooves beat against the saltwater and drag Aed's body behind them, the foam seeping through the gaping hole in his chest. He can't love because he's empty inside. His lungs are made of peat moss and his bones are all rust, he's nothing but a corpse made up of half-broken things, waterlogged and forgotten and doomed to be something terrible.

Johnny swings at Dyno, Yael spits blood, Karl feels like he's only just beginning to drown.

The spear that lands in his chest then is gentle at first. It's fitting. His heart skips and greets the intrusion like an old friend. He still sees it before he feels it, lets his hand fall down to cradle it and takes the millisecond before the sunburst triggers to wonder if Calamity's gods really are out there.

Then Rene takes her spear back. Then Karl's skin mourns the loss.

The pain is so sudden that his vision goes, everything white and hazy like a polaroid before it clicks back into focus. He stands there stupidly with his hand over his heart, like an imitation of an oath, like he's been caught halfway through a prayer but the altar's burning, the fire leaps from tree to tree, the pyre grows until it takes over the whole forest and then it keeps going, eating away, eating away, it burns, he keens, it hurts-

He is the pyre. Muscle memory for muscles that were never his; he bleeds amber and glows red and the scythe moves in his hands like it's alive.

karl attacks rene | scythe (glaive)
VOHKu13_nJglaive
13075 -- Deep Gash on Left Bicep -- 8.0 damage + 1 blades

glaive

[10th retro gm | paxton hayes]

Life is frail, fragile, meant for someone to tear in half without thinking twice about it, and only the strong know how to mend those broken strings and bring harmony to the chaos. But who can control the chaos of a broken heart barely keeping him alive?

Keeping his face clear of every emotion is difficult because all he wants to do is scream, to let the world know he's hurting, yet he's trapped, stuck, locked into another fight with other people who will never understand. It's foolish to believe anyone will never understand but the thoughts torment his mind, tear across his soul, leaving just a shell of a man he once was. Hearing them talk, listening to their words, it reminds Maverick of the horrible mistake he made running forward because he wanted to save the life of someone he cared for more than he is willing to admit.

But now that he's here, now that blood is flying around painting the world a crimson red as the pink blossoms on the massive cherry trees drink the blood their thirsty for. It isn't until Dyno lights his sword on fire, that Mav believes they may actually stand a chance. The element of surprise was gone, taken away in the blink of an eye, and maybe it's his fault for talking so loudly and declaring the thirst for blood to give the Capitol what they desire.

It's a shame, really, and yet the only other option is running and looking like a coward and losing any hope of someone providing a sponsorship to him. Not to mention his allies need him, and while he'll never call them friends, Maverick is grateful for the company to keep him sane during the night when the hours seem to crawl by at the pace of a snail gliding across the ground looking for a place to hide.

Even now, she needs him. Rene is bleeding a lot, and he wants nothing more than to take the pain away - at least it isn't me. Dyno swings his sword through the air, and the smell of burning flesh crawls through his nose taking away the fresh scent of trees and flowers. It could always be worse though, and it's something Maverick realizes.

Yet his heart races behind his chest clawing at the prison holding it in place. Being on Dyno's good side is important, but soon it'll all change. Soon they'll have no other choice but to fight one another, to kill each other in hopes of making it out of this madness alive. Survival is the ultimate goal, but what happens when survival isn't a possible option anymore? What happens when the angel of death steps in and snatches an unexpecting soul away? Everyone has to know it can easily happen to them, right?

Maybe that's why Maverick takes a step back trying to reevaluate the fighting going on before him. Nobody seems to care that he's simply waltzing around with a spear in hand unafraid of using it. If they looked deep within, they would see him, they would see the fear, the anguish, the sorrow, the torn heart strings. Would they understand or would they call him the weak coward he truly is?

None of this is true.

No.

I trained for this. I am a career.

Ever since he was young, Maverick struggled with making relationships with others, and now he has the chance to try to save someone he slightly cares for, but he knows Rene would never do the same for him. Needing help is a sign of weakness, and his friends from district four made sure he understood that every single day. Most of the time they laughed at him, teased him, called him names, and now he has a chance to prove them wrong. It's all he's ever wanted, and it's partially why coming into the arena was worth it in that moment.

Hesitation can get him killed, it can get his allies killed, and right now the only thing on his mind is figuring out how to make it out of this fight with his allies alive and mostly well. Some wounds have the ability to heal, and maybe a good night's rest will give them everything they need, but standing here and doing nothing won't save any of them.

I am a career.

Fear can't hold him back anymore. He refuses to let it. Watching someone die changes a person, and the idea of killing someone to give the Capitol what they want rests heavily on his mind.

I am not an imposter.

He turns, looking at Rene and Dyno, and then faces the others. All his strength is coming from somewhere deep inside, and it's the desperation of Rene looking incredibly weak and frail that gives him the drive he needs.

I am not afraid.

All it takes is being in the right place at the right time, and while it's hard to know when that time is, Maverick prays to the gods above that the time is now. His entire life has built for this moment, and it's time to make a difference, and it's time to show his so-called friends back home that they were wrong about him once and for all.

credit to griffin <3

Maverick attacks Yael with spear
ebG9a4naZ0spear
block

accuracy reroll
spear
4.0 damage


spear·spear

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

► ► ►

Most of the death I had witnessed involved a lot of begging.

Please! Please, you don't have to do this! They would cry, desperate for anyone to listen. I remember the first time I had heard one of them beg, plead with me once the room was empty to help them escape. They would make extravagant promises, promising me anything that I wanted. They would tell lies, tell me anything it is that they thought I wanted to hear. The first time it had ripped me open from the inside. I had gone home that morning, to the shitty little apartment that Mr. Garner had given me, and I cried myself to sleep.

But after a while it was background noise. Noise that I would shush if they got to loud, we didn't want them waking the neighbours, or alerting any stray pedestrians.

When they got to loud, or their bodies didn't respond to the drugs the way Mr. Garner had needed them too, he would let out his frustrations on them. Once I saw him whack a man across the face with an IV pole, cursing and spluttering as he glared at the man with the heat of a thousand suns.

Yael didn't beg.

Rene didn't beg.

Calamity hadn't had a chance to even speak.

Yael was dying.

Her blood soiled the ground, yet she made barely a sound, lips sealed tightly around a snarl. She took hit after hit, her already broken body torn into like a discarded doll being fought over by two rabid dogs. I had tried to intervene, but my futile attempts with the nunchucks had basically been laughed at. The smirking career barely gave me a second glance before brushing me off. It was almost like the man had scolded me as though I was a child.

"Pathetic form," he had said through a laugh, I mean it was true, the iron bars had bounced off his legs uselessly. To him I wasn't a threat. I was nothing.

And that pissed me off.

Then suddenly he was gone, his weapon alight with a burning flame, he crashed into Yael like an inferno, setting her skin on fire. I could smell it from here, the smell all too familiar. It reminded me of home. Well thats just fucking twisted, isn't it?

Unlatching my spear I quickly follow after the smirking Career, ready to launch my spear into his face when Rene's voice catches me, stopping me in my tracks.

She looked tired. Eyes bloodshot, dark crescent moons tattooed to the underside. But that wasn't what had me double taking, it was the stupid smile she wore on her face. It was twisted and dark and it seemed to scream at me that she had won. That this was all over. That I had lost. But there was also something desperate, something frantic in the way her eyes darted from me and then to Karl, her grin growing, unhinging into something more twisted.

"I can finally shut you up Johnny," she says gleefully, readjusting her spear so that it was aimed at Karl, at his chest, at his heart. "Your friend dies. Now." She lunges and the tip of her spear disappears into Karls chest and for a moment I think it is all over, I wait for his canon to blast through the arena, but when she pulls away, blood spilling from his chest, down the front of his uniform, he stays standing.

A heart beat later and Karl has his glaive buried in her arm.

"You look tired, something keep you up all night?" I ask, my eyes quickly flicking over Karl to gauge just how much damage he had taken. He would be fine. For now.

"We are not friends," I say simply, I was pretty sure Karl wanted nothing to do with me, just like Yael. We were using each other. Turning away from Rene I aim my spear at Dyno. He was easy to spot, his sword a beacon in the darkness. "I'll show you that I can be a problem," I mutter under my breath, launching my spear towards his stupid, smug, face.

[ Johnny attacks Dyno with spear ]
ukb|q4fZEkspear
[ sc -- 4 ]

spear

[Tom]

Petals dance with a fire, revolving around the light of a burning anger. Alighting a heart with a legacy of destruction. Burn away the rot beneath Panem's stories to leave behind only the perfection of Dyno Moreno. The heat licks against his fingers, warm and filled with the smell of ash upon the air. Ever-burning flames tasting sweet upon his tongue, dripping with a confidence Dyno Moreno's learned to carry. All things come back to him. All things become a page in his story. The swirling of ink on a page, burning away his thoughts until the numb of a persona is what's left. Dyno Moreno's never been quite the same person since redirecting his focus onto the importance of life. Alight the flame in his heart, walking with the devil known as Dyno Moreno. All of his dreams coming to fruition; piece by piece until he's satisfied with the outcome.

Flesh burns all the same. Licking wounds at his fingertips, desperate to see the burn and the blood on Yael Damaris' body. There's no scream, no sound, just the pain flickering across her face. The smile on his face stays, desperate and carrying the same ease he's gone through life with. Perfection is achievable. People desperately trying to achieve his level of perfection. No one comes close to this moment. Eyes glowing behind fire, the smell of flesh heavy in the air. Petals dancing around their heads, swirling with the pink fading to black. Ash spread across the ground next to him.

A pause of heat. A flash of Rene, wounded and still fighting. Her words register a moment too late for him. The flame licking through the air, but all Dyno can register is the cold cut into Karl. Metal slicing into flesh, the red drip drip dripping down his chest. The smirk on his face darkens for a moment. There's a thump of a heart somewhere deep. A blackening feeling at the bottom of his chest, desperately wanting to be spat up. The boy was his. Gritting teeth behind the flesh of cheeks, there's a swirling annoyance taut in his jaw. Fingers tightening knuckles white as the flames burn and burn and burn.

Death's already taken his favorite. Stabbed metal into the head of a boy who was meant to be Dyno's and Dyno's alone. Darkened in the petal storm of aflame metal, Dyno's eyes focus back onto Yael. Glaive raised to drip more blood from it's blade, Dyno's smile grits a bit deeper. The white of his smile matching the devil's walking side by side. The swish of metal is enough to burn his soul to a darkened mass of excitement. Words tumbling from his lips with all the fire upon his blade melting his smile into a much more predatory look.

"You're dying. Don't you see Yael?"

The words alight more than his sword; his entire joy of playing these games have burned alight. Mixing with the ash of those before and blending into a new fire of a boy who's desperate to hold onto the control he's always desired. Planting his feet as the swish of fire curls against his side, licking up the air desperately burning everything behind him. His mother once called him a beautiful destruction; ash and death seem to follow his every step. Nothing is greater than the feeling overcoming him. The anger of the day before burnt up in the flames of today.

Only, Karl moves with pain; tasteful and yet so brilliant. Dark like the fog of the forest, cold with the blood of his own on those hands that'd been a ghost of a touch on Dyno. Unable to stop his own grin from tightening around the edges, flames dancing to light his face completely. Playing with fire and knowing he'll get burned. Dyno wants. He desperately wants. This little game of his has to keep going. The fun never stops by his hands. Except, the curved blade of a scythe cuts deep. Spilling red, Rene's blood falls slowly into the swirling mix of pink petals. Smothering the softness to a heaviness against the dirt coated ground. A tsk of his tongue as he watches Rene carefully, knowing she's pushing herself to stay alight.

Rene is solid. Like stone. She's always been unnervingly strong. The faint flicker of his wound against his chest burns for a second. Never once shying away from his desires. Never once treating Dyno as anything but a career with a strength. One day, she'll believe to have the upper hand, but no one has the upper hand on him. The sound of petals filling his ear only swirls deeper when Maverick moves. A torrent of rain; flashing with the fire of himself. Maverick isn't as sweet as he'd expected him to be. There's a ferocity beneath those eyes, raging with a storm of Four. A downpour of something hidden beneath the surface; tearing at those blank looks Mav has perfected. The swish of metal to skin, cutting slightly into Yael. A thump of his heart, watching as blood drips redder than before.

"I'll show you that I can be a problem," A slight sting burns from where metal cuts into his back, unable to stop the blood dripping from the wound. Licking at his skin with the flame of a boy who's unable to stop his fire from spreading. Dyno's lips curve, dancing with a fire in his eyes. Staying turned towards Yael, he keeps his back to Johnny. Johnny from Six would never be a problem. A pale comparison of a career's might to a non-career. The sting is enough to add red to his already stained shirt. Burning with his blade, he can taste the sweetness of adrenaline forming. Words flickering to his lips, cutting with a solid silver of it's own.

"You'll never be a problem, Johnny." Looking over his shoulder, Dyno catches his eye for a second. "You've already signed your death." Dripping the words as a poison, he rolls his shoulders and focuses back on the true threat. Yael Damaris was more than a career. The flame licking at his side reminds him of before. The days past where a dark rooftop mixed with surprise. The thud of his body to the ground, desperately feeling the rage of a time past. Yael wouldn't be getting the last laugh. No, he's alight already. Burning at the edges of what once was to build what could be.

"Are you afraid, Yael? Do you feel that pain? Burning inside of you." Every word flickers with his smile, bone white teeth glittering beneath the orange of the flame. "I want you to feel all of it. Burn the feeling into your skin and watch you alight." Swishing the blade around, the flame dances with pink until everything turns gray and black. "You're going to die." This legend of his will start with her death, burning into the sky as a beacon of Dyno Moreno's strength. Others need to see it. Others need to know it was him and only him.

Swishing the blade once more, his eyes flicker to Karl for a moment. A darkness behind his eyes alight by the flames in his hand, whitened knuckle, and the joy of taking more. Looking back to Yael, he swishes the blade, letting the crackle of fire fill his head.

"You were never strong enough, Yael. You had your chance."

The laugh on his lips tastes of ash, burning bright and red.

"It's over."

(Dyno Moreno attacks Yael Damaris with flaming katana [Sword])
KMtDptlUFlsword
(Shallow Cut 3.5)

1-50
(Extinguished)

sword·1-50

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

Death doesn't scare me. It comes for everyone at some point in life, but for some, such as the unlucky victims in the hunger games, it comes much sooner. It's never been something I've been faced with before, but I never expected it would come after me as quickly as it is now. When I entered the arena, I expected to get attacked early considering I'm a career and people are afraid of me. I just never thought I would feel the grim reaper reaching out for me after only being in the arena for not even three full days. I can feel the weakness starting to take over my body, yet I keep myself steady, and I keep my gaze strong. Weakness will only cause death to come for me sooner, and maybe I can manage to survive, I can win this fight, and then take a rest that's much needed. The flight part of my brain is begging me to run away, to leave the two boys to deal with the mess they started since this seems as though it's part of their plan to kill me off, but I don't run away because I live for the fight, and it's all I know.

I've spent my entire life training for this moment, and now that it's here, part of me wonders if training for this was a mistake. Out of all the games I have witnessed, careers tend to die early on. It's a dream to wear the crown at the end of this, but where do we always go wrong? It's a question I have studied and have spent a lot of time trying to answer, but it's not there. Maybe we're foolish to believe we can win such a horrific game. Maybe we're ignorant to have this hope that we can survive and mend up after every battle just to be more prepared for the next one. It's only when I see Dyno with his flaming sword, that I realize I may have a chance of actually surviving just one more day. My grip on the spear tightens, and I know I'm where I need to be. The spear is my weapon, my comfort zone, and while it isn't a trident, it's one that I know and understand, and it's one I'm more than ready to use.

When Yael attacks, I'm ready for it this time, and I can easily step out of the way, but it's never as easy at it seems. The movement of stepping out of the way puts me in the line of fire of Karl. "You look tired, something keep you up all night?" My eyes turn towards Johnny, and it takes every ounce of strength not to charge after him. He's a foolish boy, but there isn't anything I can do about it right now. My eyes dart back and forth between him and Karl, and for a moment, I wonder if Karl knows everything Johnny thought about him. I can cause some drama between the two of them if I really wanted to, and why shouldn't I? Why should I set back and let them live their lives pretending that nothing is wrong? Why shouldn't I give them something to fight over? This is the hunger games, and nobody has time to become friends.

"We're not friends." His next comment makes me raise one eyebrow as I stare him down. Maybe he's right. Nobody has time for friends in this place. I have allies, Mav and Dyno, but they're not friends of mine. In fact, I don't want them to consider me as a friend either. It'll make it easier for them when I ultimately end up dying. I take a deep breath as I quickly turn towards Karl. If Johnny isn't his friend, then he won't care if I pierce his neck with the tip of my spear. The smile on my face grows even larger. Death may be calling, but someone other than me is going to answer. I will make sure of that if it's the last thing I do. I'm not ready to return the gift of life.

Rene attacks Karl | Spear

iFVlWiY|brspear
3068 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damagespear

[fox]

► ► ►

"You're dying. Don't you see Yael?"

She tries to ignore him, patience wearing thin, the burn on her thigh blisters painfully as it bleeds. Johnny puts a scratch on his back that hardly phases him, pressing on with his speech.

"Are you afraid, Yael? Do you feel that pain? Burning inside of you."

She spent every minute of her life trying to survive. And in the last few weeks, she sat with death, she deliberated over it for whole days in that holding cell at the Training Center. She was supposed to be dead when she was caught, she was supposed to die first in the arena, and yet her body grips onto life, her chest twists itself around the words of her peacekeeper and protects it like it's an organ, that tiny, fragile hope that she might live. She's somewhere past feeling pain, she thinks.

This time, she doesn't look at Dyno, just stabs the glaive towards Rene – "I want you to feel all of it. Burn the feeling into your skin and watch you alight" – fuck, does he ever stop talking? He goes on incessantly, he has so many stupid words – fear and death, fear and death. The hot metal cuts into the guard around her leg, scrapes her skin barely, and she misses her shot.

The fire goes out.

Now, she can see his face clearly without the billowing heat distorting the air. He wears his smile and it's a blade too.

It's funny how badly she wanted to be someone like him. Her world had been so incredibly small back then, tucked in the closet with a little, ancient tape, down in the narrow streets of her neighbourhood in Two, where all the kids brandished pocket knives to feel a little bigger, hollow-eyed hunger roaming the alleys at night.

She'd walk by the stalls of the makeshift market and listen to the merchants speak, so desperately proud of their home despite being forgotten in their corner of destitution. We're nothing like Twelve, they'd say with self-assurance, but they feared the Keepers too, always on edge, afraid of getting caught selling their illegal goods and being punished.

They hated them but held them to such high esteem. They had no power but dreamed of it.

A peacekeeper killed her mother. She grew up wanting to be one so she could find him. She wanted to be untouchable too. She wanted to kill and feel nothing of it. She's done everything her whole life so that no one could call her weak.

But seeing him before her – it disgusts her terribly.

"You were never strong enough, Yael," he says.

She stares at him, and then laughs, a sick, bitter disbelief in her stomach. She wants it and hates it, she fought to be exactly like him and yet she finds him unbearable.

"It's over," a triumphant declaration.

He needs to shut the fuck up.

yael attacks rene | naginata (glaive)
vpOJbPzBIkglaive
13059 -- 4.0

glaive

[calla]

► ► ►

Rene's arm rises and the scythe catches it. The fire glints off of the metal, off of Karl's hair, off of his teeth, the very air starts to steam.

The purple of his chest turns redder, darkening the same way that a plum rots once it's fallen from the tree. The pain of it ebbs and flows and laps at the place between his lungs, it chases itself through his skin, working its way through his body until his fingers go numb and cold and white.

It's like the plum falls into snow. The colours twist together into one giant ugly mess. Yael slowly bleeds out onto it like an artist leaving their signature.

From behind the light, Dyno looks at him like something horrible.

Karl makes the mistake of catching his eye, just like he did back at the ponds, just like in the training room and in the elevator, over the cafeteria table, in the stairwell, he can't get away from it, he can't, he can't, the brightness of him is always there, even when Karl turns away and even when he hides, he's there, Dyno is there and he knows - he can see.

That's the worst part of it. To watch Dyno watch him is to watch his own dissection. He's laid out bare on the autopsy table, stuck in the view box ten feet above.

Dyno asks Yael if she's afraid.

Thump-thump-thump.

Karl wants to hurt him very badly.

Silly little bog boy. Stupid little imposter. The real Karl has been missing for years, this is just the body that they pulled up out of the water and decided to repurpose. This is the corpse that the ghost lights all flock to and the one that keeps hearing Aed's call. This is the one with the sound of running horses in his ears, the one with his bones on fire, the one with a inanimate heart in his bag that keeps getting louder and louder and louder and

"We are not friends." Johnny spits at Rene and Karl

stumbles slightly.

He's barely even a person.

When does a friend become a not-friend - before or after you try to kiss them?

The fire sputters out.

Karl goes to Yael instead, for all that she's seemed to hate him and for all that he's seemed to ignore it. She didn't feed him to that boulder. That has to mean something.

She's laughing as she's dying, like there's something funny about the gash across her face, like the blood in her eyes has warped them all like funhouse mirrors. Karl doesn't understand the joke. Rene's spear catches him again when he tries to cement himself back to Yael's side.

He looks at her, Rene, career, great and terrible in a way so different from the others. She doesn't say much. Karl likes that about her. She has a smile that splits her face in half.

Dyno keeps talking. Karl keeps looking at Rene.

The shadows are suddenly stranger without the light of the fire.

"You shouldn't have picked him." He tells her, knowing that Dyno isn't paying attention, knowing that he hasn't even taken a breath from his tirade yet.

The plum and the tree and the rot - he's going to ruin you.

karl attacks rene | scythe (glaive)
r2|SYRcIYVglaive
13189 -- Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage

glaive

[10th retro gm | paxton hayes]

What if I am an imposter?

She needs him, and yet Maverick can barely bring himself to look at her. Rene is brutal, strong, courageous, and she's taking every blow like it's nothing. But the amount of blood coating her skin, the pale hue to her face, all of it is pointing to the end. She's looking worse with every passing second, and it's just a matter of time before the angel of death takes her soul to another world if one even exists, and when she needed him the most, he failed. The tip of his spear barely made any sort of contact with Yael. In an alternate reality, it's a good thing because nobody needs to die, but someone has to, and Mav wants to do whatever is possible to make sure it isn't Rene or Dyno. Losing Duke was hard enough, and now he's facing the possibility of losing someone else, the only piece of home he has. She has to die eventually, but now isn't the time.

He can almost hear their laughter, Jalan and Coltan. Throughout his life these two brought him to his knees, and it only stopped when Ezera reached out with a helping hand. Accepting help was hard, almost impossible, yet Mav knew he couldn't survive on his own. Every step became harder and harder because the two boys were there laughing at him, taunting him, telling him he would never amount to anything.

"Why are you even trying?"
"Yeah, Mavvy, why are you trying to be something your not?"
"Just give up while you can. It's for the best."
"Yeah, you'll never win, so you should stop trying."

And stop trying he did. Every day he locked himself in his room at home for a few hours because his family never understood, but once his siblings returned from school, Mav made himself face them with a smile spread across his face since he didn't want anyone saw the pain lingering inside. Even though his mother saw through the mask, she never once asked him why. Those questions only led to arguments until he ran far away from home one day.

"Maverick, let me help you. Please."
"Ezera, I don't need your help."
"It's okay to ask for help. I can't let them do to you what they did to me."
"I... I didn't know..."
"Please let me help you."
"But..."
"The choice is yours."

Now that he's standing in the arena looking death in the eye, Maverick realized he made the right decision. Befriending Ezera was one of the best decisions of his life. Ezera is an inspiration, the reason Maverick tries his hardest every single day, and yet he doesn't know how to repay him.

Repayment came in the form of volunteering to give him another chance at life.

His eyes look at the blood caked on the tip of the spear, and in that moment, he understands why he's doing this. Fighting doesn't have to be about being the strongest or being the best career. No, there's so much more to it, and right now, Maverick only has to be better than the alliance standing in front of him. All it takes is for them to let their guard down for one second. One mistake can end someone's life before they even realize what happened.

Maverick looks at the sky, and he imagines Ezera standing beside him giving him the strength he needs to carry on throughout this. Rene needs him now more than ever.

"Maverick, just take my hand. I promise it'll be okay."
"Okay, Ezera, I trust you."
"You won't regret it."

His soul feels heavy, but he feels stronger. Trying to prove himself to people who never will care about him even if he wins this crazy game will never make the difference. Instead, he focuses on himself, on his allies, and he places himself into a fighting stance. Promises are always made to be broken, but for four years Ezera never went back on his word, and the last word Maverick muttered to him before the peacekeepers drove him away from the justice building was a promise.

Maverick faces Yael, and he's staring without a care in the world. Death will come for one of them, and he needs Rene more than he needs the career from two.

Guide me, Ezera. Give me strength.

Taking a deep breath, he aims his spear. Training never was his strong point in life, but he knows what needs to be done, and he's willing to do it. All is fair in this game, and that means doing the unthinkable without apology.

In this game, sorry means nothing, and Maverick has a promise he wants to keep.

I have to do this for Rene even if she doesn't believe in me. It's okay though. I believe in me.

And that's all he needs.

Even if I am an imposter.

credit to griffin <3

Maverick attacks Yael with spear
JSHj7Zz0B_spear
3091 -- Stabbed in Chest -- 9.5 damage + 1 strength + 1 rivalry
spear