gamblers' gold [elm/theo day 5]

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

It was just us now and I wish I could say sorry. To them, to Svet, to Dorothy. I should have been so much more than what I am now. It was odd, really… I’m sure the boys expected me to be a killer. Blood encrusting my lips, my sword, my clothes. Turning everything white into scarlet hymnals and packs of cigarettes for the boys at home to excuse themselves upon. I expected to be that. Some sort of mega warrior, a savior to my people, because I have always been a winner except now. The only time I haven’t been brought me here.

Elm and I were the most battered and bruised people of our crew to leave on day one. Yet we stand - no, we’re sitting, we’re watching the sun go down because we haven’t got a break since we started, and this is the closest thing we get. We’re alive and our saviors are dead. Who are we, to be sitting here, breathing, enjoying the soon-to-be purple night sky, the crisp air that brushes on skin. To be reminded through shivers and petrified slumbers that we are not immortal, nor dead, but it feels like we should be

It was fucking bullshit.

I don’t know anything about Elm, actually. I didn’t really know shit about Svet either. Or Dorothy.

If I live, how am I supposed to be their staple? How can I tour the districts and see the faces of their own BASEs, and apologise? I can’t. I can’t say that I’m sorry because I let them die. I can give them a handshake and a hug. A ”sorry for your loss” at the expense of my victory. But after the formalities, they have nothing to gain from me. And I hate that.

Somewhere, gambling turns into the raven of life that knows what you value. It learns the shiny and pretty things, it learns about Woods and my momma and - the gambler’s nest holds gold, but his lair holds chains, and keys that lock you away forever.

I can’t gamble no more here - this is the final deal, so I might as well forge my own gold to bring home. "Elm?" I turn to them, somehow trying to find rest, or serenity in the two empty night rotations that we have to fill in for now. "What d’ya do back home?" The rocks that scuttle nearby offer the filler of silence that I never needed. "Like, with livestock and shit," it’s an odd thought, but I also know I ain’t no sewing machine of eight. "If that’s even what you do."

I’m not tryin to be dismissive, I’m just tryin to forge a reason for what’s left to fight for. Shit, Woods might have fought the other BASE fuckers into his own grave by now. If he's gone, damn, pass the entire pack. 

Smoke can't cover a lost heart.

[kaitlin]

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

e l m  -  e r r i n g t o n

I’m in such a frenzy, heart pounding in my chest, eyes focused on Svet, that I almost don’t notice the way Autumn crumbles after I swing at her. I think – I think I’m stronger than I mean to be.

I don’t have a moment of peace to process what just happened. I stand over Svet and look down at her, mouthing the words ”You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” over and over and over again, until it’s finally clear that there’s no coming back from this. Time passes both too quickly and too slowly, almost in a haze, and I don’t realize that the others are gone until I lift up my head and see Autumn’s blood pooling in the dirt.

A sound reverberates in my memory – a sickening crack from the end of her life. A cannon.

I did that.

I did that.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t mean to.

With Svet and Autumn and the others gone, all that’s left is me and Theo. I lift my eyes to his, and I think we’re asking ourselves the same thing: how are we here, and not Svet and Dorothy?

We don’t move from this spot. Instead, we watch the sunset together in silence, until Theo says my name. I’m pulled back from my thoughts and into the present.

”... If that’s even what you do,” he says. I laugh weakly, still heartbroken, still not-fully-here. Thinking of home is painful, because Autumn was from there too. I never knew her before, but now I wonder what her life was like in Ten. I doubt I’ll ever live to find out.

”We do take care of animals,” I say. ”Cows and pigs, mostly. I guess I do a lot of farm chores, help out my moms. I’ve got a younger brother and sister, and they’re loud as hell, so I like to spend time outside away from all that. There’s a creek by our farm that I like. It’s beautiful, especially in spring. I bet you’d like it.”

I don’t mention that I’m not happy, that I don’t have a lot of friends, that I spend a lot of my time exploring alone. I guess I don’t want him to think… that I have less to go back to, maybe, or that my life isn’t good.

”What about you?” I ask. I think this is the most talking I’ve done over the last few days, but it feels like we need to talk. Too much has happened to go through this alone.

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

The silence is piercing. Outside of our limited speech to each other, the wind provides the only call. It brushes up against the trees like a cat, whoosh, like the world is purring. Somehow, the world is at peace when we die. And it’s all fucked. I can imagine sitting in our shitty ass, broken recliner back in the BASE, shooting the shit. Complaining about the most miniscule things like referee calls or the penalty box. It would feel like the absolute end of the world to us, because Exy was our world.

I wish we had referees in the game. Give someone to be mad at for judging who dies and who doesn’t - I want to be mad at the world. Curse my enemies and tell them that they’re rigging it, or that it’s biased, or -

But I can’t. There is no scapegoat for my emotions in here, which really fuckin’ sucks. I can’t be mad at the other tributes because they’re doin’ what I’m trying to do. Survive. In the Games, we can only blame ourselves. And I’m not used to accepting blame.

Elm speaks up. ”We do take care of animals,” a laugh, heartbroken. Does home hurt? ”Cows and pigs, mostly. I guess I do a lot of farm chores, help out my moms. I’ve got a younger brother and sister, and they’re loud as hell, so I like to spend time outside away from all that. There’s a creek by our farm that I like. It’s beautiful, especially in spring. I bet you’d like it.” We both work for our moms, which I appreciate. Sometimes I wish I helped my mom more. Sometimes I wish she knew how much I loved her, but how could I leave her on such a careless bet? Is it truly love if I abandon her?

If so, did my father ever truly love my mother?

I gulp and push down my fear.

”What about you?”

Well, shit. What do I do besides eating cold pizza? I gamble, but look where that got me. ”I, uh,” Somehow, I struggle to find my life. The exy league story is so lame, so repeated. Why pride myself on a sport that never made it out of the district? ”I don’t really do much, but I wish I did more for my mom. She deserves more than I ever gave her.” Is it wrong to give a sob story here? I shrug. ”I spend a lot of time with my guys, I guess. The only thing I ever tried to take part in got stopped by the whole plague.” I’m lost, which is strange. But I guess it’s hard to find yourself in your tomb.

[kaitlin]