misery business ⇾ h v. d v. i ⇾ day 6

[Deleted]

"Brennan?"

She holds her belongings close to her as she stumbles out of their cave, hand pressed to the wall in order to guide herself towards the entrance. The fog is so thick around her, she can hardly see three feet in front of her. "Brennan?? Pierce?!" She calls out, panic setting in with each repetition, but there's no use, it's just her in a sea of clouds and static. Haizea against the world, for the first time in twenty days she feels entirely alone.

None of those are going to happen to us - it plays on repeat as she wanders for what feels like eternity up the mountain. That's where they said they would go - why would they leave her behind? Her mind races as her hands tremble, the world suddenly seems like a much scarier place than before. Fighting along side them didn't seem so hard; they were supposed to be loyal to the end. It's too early to go alone, it's too early to go without them. What did I do wrong?

Were they scared of me?

There were no cannons, she would have woken up in a heart beat. They're still out there, the both of them, holding hands and sharing laughs and her heart shrinks picturing how alone she is. Maybe this was their plan all along, she thinks to herself, and she tries not to feel the burning, overwhelming disappointment that comes along with it. She should have known better - Harbinger warned her.

Every step of the way: don't go for wealth, don't count out Karl, don't get too close. She's played so well, yet made so many mistakes. It hurts worse than the few scrapes and bruises she's felt along the way: as soon as they could, Brennan and Pierce ditched her. That's okay, she lies to herself, it's okay, I'm okay, I'm-

"Itzal?"

And for a second, it seems a little brighter in the chaos of the fog. It's like a dream she can't quite process, approaching with furred brows and a sword by her side at all times. For a moment, she wonders if he's real, but she when she looks into those warm, brown eyes all she can think about is that stupid, stupid kiss. It's plagued her since the training center - boys have always been her weakness, if you couldn't tell.

"I've really, really missed you," she says, pushing her face into his chest and wrapping her arms around him as well. Haizea has pictured it a thousand times over what it would be like running into him here, she never anticipated it being like this. There's an overwhelming bout of emotions within her that's only quelled when Itzal strokes her hair and hugs her back, "I'm going to be honest, this is a bit mid, but," he starts.

"You're here," she looks up to him as he says it, "and I'm happy about that."

There's a few minutes of bliss that she finds with her lips on his, weapons thrown to the side as they clamor to the ground, her on top of him. It's a chance she may not get again - ever. She doesn't love him, she doesn't think that's even possible in a place like this, but god does it feel good to do something unholy. It's good until it stops, with his hands going further and further south of her waist, "wait-"

"We don't have much time," Itzal tells her, and she knows it, too. Whatever's coming, they don't have eternity, eternity never existed. Part of her envisions running away with him, some silent rebellion against whatever is happening, that they can just spend the day hiding away in the fog and everything'll be okay- "we should bang."

"Wait, what?"

There's a crack to her voice and a sheepishness that takes over the bravado she'd built up with excess kisses, "c'mon," he says with a grin that sets something off inside of her. She shuffles a bit, pushing her hands onto his chest to look down on him, "come ride this fat hog."

"What?! No way," ay dios mio; Haizea can't find the words but she can certainly find her way to her feet, "we've spent a week apart in a death games and the first thing you're thinking of is getting your damn dick wet?" Romance is deader than Calamity Grace, rotted away and festering, Haizea's head is spinning and all she knows is he's fuming, especially as she hears the remarks of a familiar voice. "Oh, not you," Dyno Moreno, there's a rush to her sword before his monologue can set in about finding her like this- with him, with Itzal. There's a disgust that settles in, towards them or towards herself she can't quite put a finger on it, but she holds her sword between herself and Dyno just as Pierce taught her. She stands in front of Itzal at first, before pacing to the left, opening either of them up to Dyno's attack.

Really? She thinks to herself, this is happening right now?!

So be it. She lets Dyno talk as she inches forward until there's a window to attack.

[ attacks Dyno Moreno with King Katana ]
7ECk9OxFnR200+1000
[ 1170 -- Shallow Cut on Back -- 4.0 damage ]

He sees it coming from a mile away, of course he does. Still, she watches as her blade draws red through the back muscles of Dyno Moreno. He's a spectacle on the battlefield and all she is is Haizea, girl from District 11. She doesn't have her allies anymore, this is the first time they're seeing each other on even footing and she chokes. Dyno twists away from her, and she cocks her head towards Itzal, alliance on her tongue, a rattling in her rib cage. 

"I'm so sick of you boys!" Who needs them! Brennan, Pierce, Karl, Maverick, Dyno, Itzal - ugh.

[ attacks Itzal Usoa with King Katana ]
200+1000
[ 1156 -- Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage ]

200+1000·200+1000

[Tom]

Just human.

Isn't that the part that's made Dyno feel all the more guilty for the tears shed by Maverick Marlow? Tears spilt because a career still could be a human. A kid could still be a kid. Dyno's cried only a handful of times in his life, most of which being when he was too young to remember the way tears felt. Most of those emotions went to paper, soaked and sealed away for his own desire to spread ink out onto paper, show the emotions and intellectualize it away before the feeling spreads like a disease. Dyno can still feel his sister's eyes over his shoulder. The words on her lips as he writes away those feelings. The itch is there on the edge of his fingertips. Don't you ever just cry, Dyno? No.

Deciding to become this caricature of himself pulled to the extreme for the sake of a crown, he's settled himself to locking away everything with the key lost to all. Dyno Moreno's still human. The days spent worrying about his sister's future, his sister's worries when he decided a crown would be his own, and his mother's reaction to him choosing to be better, to be strong, and to achieve his dream for himself and Panem. Shove it in his father's face, while also proving that One will always be the superior district in comparison to every other district.

Won't you burn out Moreno? You need to rest at some point.

Maverick's becoming difficult for him. There's a certain acknowledgement of what's coming heavy in the air for Dyno Moreno. An unspoken silence between Mav and him, almost as if Rene's been the bond that's kept Four and One together. A burning at the bottom of his stomach as he watches the sky, lets the evening fill him with a certain unease as he begins to count in his mind the cannons firing in the distance from earlier. Twelve. There's twelve of them left. Halfway, but too close. Pressure would certainly begin to build up in the tributes, leave behind something new for them all to face.

Rene is the first face. The one he stares at for a second too long. The feeling of anger burning in his stomach. Izar would get what's coming to her. No one is meant to take his kills. Especially not a legacy tribute like Izar. Out of annoyance, Dyno slams Yael's glaive against the stone wall of the ruins. Let's the memory of her words build behind his ears as he can remember the way her blood had coated his face. Bitch. Monster. Psycho. Killer. Villain. No one will see him as anything more than the face of all bad things. Going into the games, he'd picked fear over honor. Panem wouldn't enjoy the same heroic act as before. Dyno's certainly grown tired of the careers who'd ended up weaker than they were trained to be.

After a breath, rereading the notes of his own writing at the age of Twelve when he started working towards being the perfect career, the perfect tribute, and the rightful victor of One, he can feel the air growing tense. Memories of his sister's own interest being peaked. Her words still in his head as he remembers writing out a plan for training. Won't the tributes view you as the enemy? Wouldn't it be easier to get them to understand or understand them? The memory of his intrigue as his sister plotted out their gameplans. The similarities and the differences. The past words of his own filling his head. But isn't that more exciting? A villain? Everyone loves to root for a villain. There's a guilt in his heart as Rene flickers away, the moment of fear bubbling in his chest. Knowing they've lost once more.

Dyno hated when he's been bested.

It wasn't going to happen again.

Johnny is a disappointing face to see. Another boy to mess with having gone away. Leaving only Karl out there alone. A pity that Dyno's not there to see how that'll effect him. Yael's words and fire still filling his mind as he hums to himself, hoisting her glaive against his side a little more. Johnny hopefully died with a good ending. Dyno's not heartless. There's still a secret desire for all of their stories to come to a brilliant and beautiful end. Even if his story is going to be the only one that matters.

Svetlana Forrester is a pleasant surprise, but there's a pang of disappointment. Killing her would've been the perfect way to start off the beginning of the end, but Dyno could understand the gamemakers' choice. Svetlana wasn't interesting anymore in their eyes. Autumn Oakley is also a pleasant surprise, but only for the fact that Ten loses another chance at the crown. The night goes by with an uneasiness as he stares across the way every so often waking up in the middle of the night wandering if Maverick will snap. The emotions having gotten too much. Too human. Too caring. Careers could care, but they were better than the others. Dyno Moreno had always known he'd never care about the people in the arena.

Even if he can feel the guilt in the bottom of his stomach and the worry at the top of his throat, he stays quiet about the feeling.

Eyes shut to the world as the reaper's grin fills his head, visions of Rene and Duke filling his mind. Jumping up slightly when morning comes feeling as if he's panicked. Too slow. Too weak. Izar, Hope, and Pierce all keep laughing, fighting, and winning. A grunt of a wake up as Dyno rubs at his eye, ridding himself of the sleepiness. Early to wake, the fog seems to begin starting to come back. The heaviness of the fog, static filling the air is too weak still. They've got a moment. A second before the chaos. Dyno could feel the tension in the air, the electricity running through his hairs. Mav and him soon would be on their own.

"Dyno, don't take this the wrong way, but I hope to never see you again, and I wish you the best of luck in the end game." A blank feeling. An unreadable expression flashing across Dyno's face before he plasters on a smile, let's his face fill with an excitement unlike the ones from the day before. Rene truly was the only one keeping One and Four working together all this time. A disappointing feeling of failure burns through him, but he swallows it down for the cocky words on his tongue.

"Mmmm fair, but you’ll see me. It’ll be us at the end, Mav." A pause as Dyno holds the words in his head for a second before continuing. "Don’t disappoint them." It's all a game they play. Dyno's been moving pieces since his name was called. The game was growing more complex as pieces begin to be picked off the board, one by one. Would this be the first check in his little game? Alone. Dyno could take most of the tributes. Even Maverick was a weaker career than himself, but Dyno wanted it to be them. The final two deserved to be the strongest of the strong.

"Since you're so confident, I'll see you at the end then." A bow comes from Maverick and Dyno can't help but grinning wider as his eyebrows raise in curiosity. The end. The greatest part of every story. Maverick and him were built to be the final chapter of the legend. Only time will tell who becomes the top one. Dyno crosses his arms, lets Yael's glaive lean against his side in a more threatening, but playful manner. His words flow out with a smirk and another flicker of an unreadable emotion.

"You should know by now. I know how this story will end."

Cockiness has always been a mask for him. A way to stay focused. Unable to let his mind wander away from the task at hand. Otherwise, he'll lose sight. Lost the way forward. The story will become unraveled and uncontrollable and Dyno wasn't going to lose sight of the crown, the legend, and his own desire to be the greatest there ever is. A threat in his words, but also an admission. Maverick and his alliance was always meant to end sooner rather than later. Dyno knew the end of them was already on it's way, but the fog all but confirmed this.

"That you do. I can't wait for you to kill me Dyno Moreno. I look forward to it when we battle for checkmate at the end."

Dyno can't help but to cackle at the words. Checkmate. The end would be the battle of who gets to checkmate the other. Dyno's spent days playing pawns around the field. Moving pieces into different places to become problems and get himself further. Taking Yael off the board had been apart of the plan, one that'd come with the parts of the arena he couldn't control. If only he could've taken Pierce off the board, but Izar's made herself known as a problem.

Only when he watches Maverick start to leave is when he realizes how much more he's going to have to fight through, but Dyno Moreno's spent his entire teenage years putting everything into plan. The final couple of acts were coming. The best part of the tale was being written. A smirk on his lips as he stares into the fog until Maverick becomes nothing more than a shadow in the distance. His words don't reach the other, but he speaks them anyways.

"I can't wait to see your ending, Mav."

Ink sprawls in his mind, writing out the climax that's incoming.

"Thank you for being human."

The fog expands as far as he can, the static of the electricity pushing him in a similar direction as Maverick, but Dyno's keeping his hands on Yael's glaive. Eyes focusing on the path ahead until the fog fades away into the beautiful sight before him. Floating rocks along the giant peak of the mountain. Golden ribbon roads as some foxes seem to move along the path, Dyno can't help the mystic feeling of an unnatural beauty to the place around him. The electricity still hums in the atmosphere, but he leaves that for the time being.

Instead, he stalks forward, staying quiet. Listening for others. The gamemakers clearly were going to start bringing tributes together. Pull together a fight without allies or just separate them all to reunite multiple tributes together. Dyno's seen the way games play out. Spent days watching reruns of games long since put away into museums where their stories fade away. Dyno wasn't going to be like one of those tapes. His games would be remembered forever. A crown upon his head. The villain of an arena who's proven he's above the rest. Only, he's got his eyes on the prize and on those who deserve to be his rival now.

The problem is less of who's going to be the victim of his next move, but instead how many pieces he has to move. Moving slowly away from the fog is when he hears a voice he's not heard yet in the arena, filled with a very different idea of what's fun in the arena. "come ride this fat hog." Only, the next voice he hears makes his blank face turn into a grin, excited to move into action already. Waiting carefully, he waits until the fog gives him the perfect silhouette to come from. Voice already filled with fire, eyes burning with amusement and the smile of a devil Izar may never believe in.

Not even listening to her complaint, he speaks loudly to her and what looks like Five in a precarious position. "Oh look what fun I've stumbled upon." Giving Five a glance over and a smirk, almost daring to wink darkly at the handsome boy from Five, Itzal if he remembered right, he continues. "You can't escape me, Izar. Though, you seem a little busy." Watching her approach him, Dyno lets her hold her sword between him and herself. The glint of metal from Yael's glaive still resides in front of him, almost ready to clash out with Izar's. Izar's already striking out, swinging the metal into him as Dyno effortlessly swings the glaive to swipe the katana against his back instead of his chest, almost sweeping himself to the side as blood begins to drip, voice still heavy with a dark amusement.

"I told you. I don't forget, Izar." A smirk on his lips as he watches Itzal for a moment giving him a glance over, wondering if he's gonna have to make him a rival here too. "It's time to pay up. Let's crank this up to an Eleven?" Her voice comes out once more, this time with a comment about boys. A laughable idea, but Dyno only keeps his eyes focused on her. Rene died because of Izar. A career dying to Eleven showed how backwards the games had started to become for them. Her time will come. The pieces will all fall into place. A story still being written, the chapters being sewn together, and a plot ever flowing from his own fingertips.

"Let's make this fun, Izar. End this rivalry and show Panem a real show." Pushing forward, he swings Yael's glaive out, easing it around him with a swirl as if it's another limb. Body burning with the flex of his well trained muscles as he looks towards Itzal with a dark smirk. Unsure of his own strike hitting, Dyno swivels the glaive around and focuses on the Five still there. No baggage. No storyline. Another tribute who's gotten a story of his own. Dyno wished to be able to hear more. Who was Itzal with? Who did Itzal kill? Too many questions and not enough time.

Instead, he decides to continue his intense look and keep up the excitement. "Lover boy." The nickname flits off of his tongue with an ease as he turns to look at Five now, glittering metal shining with the fog to Dyno's back still. "Will you choose to save her or yourself?" A smirk on his lips as he laughs darkly, letting his eyes take in Five a bit more. A glance up and down before he settles on his words.

"Or do you wish to bleed for us? Be the martyr here." Swirling the glaive, he lets his eyes focus on the other's weapon for a second as he pushes on once more. Dyno's fought against multiple people before. Spent days training for multiple opponents to take down on his own. An excitement at the bottom of his chest as the ink swirls through his head. Tales of stories where a clash of titans come and the outcome is always beautiful. Blood, fear, and a morale at the end. Human. Dyno didn't want to be human if he couldn't chase this feeling. The high of watching a story unfold before him, twisting the story by his own grasp to see where the pieces will fall. The outcome will be the same.

"Will this be your ending or just another beginning? Show me, Itzal. I want to see where you fall."

It tastes so sweet.

Metal cutting through air.

Ink spills.

Just human.

Not anymore.

(Dyno Moreno attacks Haizea Rose-Izar with Naginata [glaive])
wlTjyBf5hSglaive
(Miss)

(Dyno Moreno attacks Itzal Usoa with Naginata [glaive])
glaive
(Stabbed in Chest 9.5 +1 for Blades)

(Accuracy for the attack on Haizea)
glaive
(Shallow cut on right forearm 3.5)

glaive·glaive·glaive

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

I t z a l

And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?
A little too ironic
And yeah, I really do think

Johnny’s face hovering overhead had me curling and uncurling my fist.

That’s just what you get, asshole.

He and his pathetic ally had all the trappings of kids that thought this would make something out of them - something bigger, something deeper - before they got turned to dust.

Well, look at him now.

He’d been sent to a take a dirt nap and his partner left all by his lonesome. I half expected to see his face too when the anthem blared overhead, but I guess he didn’t find the nearest peak to jump off just yet. I give him a day, maybe two before the rest of it gets to him.

For as smart as some of this kids billed themselves as you’d think they’d have gotten the point that the only way to truly protect yourself in here is to embrace the game. Mirage had me stop thinking about what it would mean to anyone outside of here, not when our lives were hanging by a thread and all of it could be explained away in an instant.

We’d had - what - ninety years of victors? And yeah, maybe now and then our district hated the people that they were, but by and large they got their faces plastered across television screens like all their sins hadn’t been moral failings but moves that’d propelled them to fame. People talked about being scared of so-and-so or how kind this one had been, but it’s all just bullshit.

It’s like any legend, really, you get enough people to embellish and believe that the person you’d been disappears. Even the people who didn’t survive, with enough of a story, you could turn immortal. Like someone punching someone with a pair of flaming fists and setting them on fire, or a boy cutting out someone’s tongue, what you did reframed your whole existence.

So I didn’t give one shit about Johnny. Really.

I didn’t care about whether or not he had brothers or sisters. Or a mom. Or maybe a dad that could’ve walked out on him.

He probably didn’t like the sort of raw music they played on the radio, with guitars and screaming voices. Or that maybe he’d spent most of his life wondering what it would’ve been if he hadn’t been born in a district as shitty as district six. Probably thought too much about what happened after those explosions, or that plague that was going around.

I slept like a baby, you know?

These bags under my eyes? What, it’s just been a long few days switching back and forth on watch (we weren’t going to get caught flat footed like the boys who thought it was more important to cuddle with one another than watch their backs.).

She’d already started out through the fog when I’d started to pack. Don’t get lost. Well, fat load of good that fucking was when her whole body disappeared into the mist. Honestly, I half believe she had gotten tired of me considering that I’d saved her ass yesterday. Maybe she finally recognized that I was never going to pull a punch. At some point, it’d be her against me, and I’m not ever going to get a lump in my throat when the moment comes to chop her damn head off.

“Mirage.” I grumbled out. I waved away the mist only for it to come back into my face tenfold. I crouched lower to the ground so that I didn’t catch my ankle on any of the loose rocks on the path. “Come onnnnn…”

Was I alone?

Fuck.

This would mark the first time that I had to decide where to go on my own. No Mirage. No back up. Just a bonehead with a sword and too much luck.

‘Itzal?’ That voice!

“Ayyyy, Haze!” I stumbled toward the sound.

‘I’ve really, really missed you.’ She spoke and left me breathless. Had she always been so cute? Maybe it was the way time was different here, but she’d grown. Maybe the way her hair fell down around her shoulders and how she’d stood. Powerful enough on her own two feet, different than the girl who couldn’t get out more than a few words in the training center.

I wrapped my arms around her and we’re far away. The mist blocks out everything around us and I get a half second to look into her eyes, and run a hand through her hair, to feel our bodies close together.

But it’s not enough.

Not when I know the real reason they pushed us together. That didn’t mean I couldn’t push our luck.

“I’m going to be a honest, this is a bit mid, but,” I pulled back with a grin. You didn’t really think I was going to get all fucking romantic over a girl who’s name I couldn’t even properly spell, could you? But she was here, and hot, and what the hell else was I going to do? The mist wasn’t attacking us and that meant I could at least take her to pound town before things went south. Plus they could probably tastefully angle the cameras with the mist so it wasn’t totally gross that the two of us were going to raw dog in the middle of the games.

“You’re here,” I spoke, lips drawing closer to the side of her face, “And I’m happy about that.”

We kiss.

And kiss.

A little bit of tongue. Soft lips. Warm breath. Hands up and down her back, me pressing closer.

‘Wait -’ And there it is, the boner killing pause.

“C’mon,” I shifted back and forth. I pressed my crotch against her leg with a grin. “Come ride this fat hog.”

And that was where things went off the rails, I guess.

Apparently now was the moment she decided that she was too good for me, for this.

News flash: whatever purity bullshit she might’ve been on about love, her odds of getting out of here with worse emotional scars were much higher, if she got out at all. That and I could totally have dipped my corndog into so many other holes if I had put in the effort. But I was too busy staying alive to focus on the raging morning wood I’d woken up with since the last night in the training center.

“If you think any of the boys you’ve been with haven’t been thinking about getting their dick wet the whole time we’ve been here,” I rolled my eyes and shifted back into the fog, “Then maybe you weren’t ready to get your back blown out anyway.”

Her tantrum cuts short when the kid from one? Arrives on the scene.

Oh. My. God.

He glided in with his blade and bluster and it was clear he had something out for Haze, too. Izar? Moreno? I guess my name meant fuck-all, as usual, so, yeah, happy that I’d not only been cock blocked but turned into the plus one of apparently a dynastic showdown.

“Well, if my boner hadn’t officially been killed it sure is now.” I pulled out the glaive I’d found yesterday and shifted my grip. “Lover? Dude, she’s all yours. That clam shack is apparently closed for business.”

Okay, it might’ve been too far, judging by the way she not only took a bite out of one, but sliced into me as well.

“... might’ve deserved that, to be honest,” I muttered as I stepped back.

Right into one’s blade, because, you know, he’d already talked about a fight to end all fights, and I’d acted as though this was a prelude to another comic misadventure.

“GOD DAMN IT.” I could feel the blade right between the ribs. I swung back and felt the blood rush down my side.

“You should be careful what you wish for, kid.” I growled. “I’m going to enjoy taking off your fucking head when this is all over.”

ELEGANT

[Itzal Usoa attacks Haizea Izar with his naginata (glaive)]
p9rWpKCpaeglaive
[result:miss]

[Itzal Usoa attacks Dyno Moreno with his naginata (glaive]
glaive
[result:13067 -- 8.0 damage (Glaive) +1 blades]

Accuracy Day 6 Re-roll on (Haze Izar) with (glaive)
glaive
[result: 13150 -- 10 damage (Glaive) +1 blades]glaive·glaive·glaive

[Deleted]

"I told you I don't forget, Izar."

"I didn't think you would, killing me seems to be your life's passion" she says, reaffirming her grasp on her katana. These are harder targets than weakened Rene and immobile Dorothy and the fog's doing her no favors. She squints through purple haze, her eyes focused on the career ahead of them both; he swings wide, there's a flair to his fighting style that she's able to take advantage of. Dyno's so busy looking fancy that she's able to dodge it with ease - it's his second swipe that catches her off guard. 

It barely catches her, a small cut on her hip her first battle scar after six days. Not too shabby, but it won't be the last, especially as the fire in Dyno's eyes persist. "Will you save her- or yourself," he teases, and she grits her teeth, spitting back a "I don't need saving," at them both. Maybe earlier in the week, back when she was a weak girl dreaming of a pair of strong arms, but now all she thinks about is getting out of this alive. It's impossible to keep up with his words and his movement, but she watches him with a close eye. 

A mistake, for it's Itzal that finds a window of opportunity onto Haizea. Clam shack? "God, gross," she says with an eyeroll, but all the sass in the world couldn't prepare her for Itzal Usoa's swings at her - she yelps as he swipes her glaive at her, first barely missing her chest as she sucks it in. In her panic, he attacks a second time, her only reaction to shield her face with her hands. There's a sick slice and a splatter of blood that hits her eye, and then a scream of pain. When she's able to look again, she's missing three fingers on her left hand. 

There's no time to cradle herself in pain; though, that's what she craves in this moment. Instead, she grits her teeth and bites back the tears, unable to contain the agony shooting through her hand and searing through her tiny body. "You'd be stupid to think we're together," me and him - her one regret so far might just be the one that kills her. Talk about relationship drama, she holds her katana with seven good fingers and takes a running start at Dyno Moreno's throat - maybe that'll shut him up for good. 

[ attacks Dyno Moreno with King Katana ]
vnlvOSbE7M200+1000
[ 1016 -- Deep Gash on Forehead -- 9.0 damage + 1 ]

In the heat of things, she turns to Itzal, chest heaving with both pain and rage too large to keep to herself. There's a lack of words coming to her, she's embarrassed by her tears and angry at her own embarrassment. Stay brave, don't falter now, "he's just another fuckboy," she shouts to Dyno over her shoulder, eyes fixated on the boy she kissed seconds ago. Nothing more to her. Barely anything to begin with but a delusion - she doesn't need that crutch anymore. 

[ attacks Itzal Usoa with King Katana ]
200+1000
[ 1046 -- Stabbed in Back -- 9.0 damage + 1 ]

200+1000·200+1000

[Tom]

Dripping like the ink from a pen, Dyno's eyes focus on his own blade, swiping once through air, then towards her hip, catching flesh slightly. A flair to his own swirling of the blade, letting the purple mist be the background to his complex vision of killer instincts. A smirk on his lips, filled with all the enjoyment of being the top dog here. No one gets to rise up to him and pretend they're above him because words don't matter here. Actions are the only true way to speak. Blood for blood. Blow for blow. Dyno Moreno's a killer. A monster to those who don't know all of this was for the greater good. The power of being a hero to your district. A victor to Panem. The Capitol's favorite legend to be told. He's already set himself up to take that glittering crown, no matter how much blood he has to shed. No matter how much blood he has to lose, it'll be his at the end of the day.

Izar's words do nothing. Nothing more than a dark laugh in the back of his throat, bubbling up with the chill of the morning. The purple haze behind him as he speaks with a glint of darkness to his eyes. The tale spinning around his fingertips as if he's pulling the strings to conduct this entire bout. "Passion? Sweetheart, I only care about the tale we're spinning. Don't you see? The cameras are everywhere. My only passion is being the one who's going to remain. The one who's got the crown at the end." Stepping forward, he lets his smile fills his face as he looks over to Itzal. Itzal's words would be amusing for the capitol. Comic relief, but also a tribute who's clearly done well for himself. Dyno always hated those type of tributes. Mess around and able to find strength in that. Underestimated for sure. Intriguing in many ways. Only, the words are meant to be funny. Except, Dyno smiles darkly, lets his eyes trail Five's body before speaking darkly.

"Ugh. Pointless." Rolling his eyes, Dyno swishes his glaive, staring at the blood he'd already caused as his glaive cuts into ribs, blood dripping from the end of Yael's blade. Only when Itzal begins to get angrier at him does Dyno let his smirk come back. There's a quick moment as he's expecting comic relief lover boy to not really be capable of fighting, but as the other begins to swing with the glaive, he's slower than expected. Striking into his ear, Dyno can feel blood gushing as he feels the weapon cut deep enough until things get muffled as he pulls away. There's a fading ringing sound as he groans in pain ripping his head away from the other's blade and backing up a step as he glares.

"Oh, so that's how we're doing this. Now you've done it, Lover Boy." Swishing his own glaive forward, Dyno glares as his smile has fallen, this time his eyes become more focused than before. Blood drips out of the side of his head in a waterfall of blood. There's a painful ache that's ringing in his ears. Unable to hear anything from his left side, he glares to them both. Only, Izar comments on Itzal's comments making him want to sigh in frustration. Focus on him! Dyno's the real threat here. Only when he notices her focus coming back, calling him stupid as her katana cuts across his forehead as more blood falls. Red filling his eyes as he wipes at the blood attempting to get his sight back.

"Fucking hell. You've really done it now." Letting his shoulders fall into an ease, he glares at the two. No longer smiling, no longer filled with the dark humor behind his words, only the cold chill of an actual anger forming. Calming his senses as he knew losing himself was not something he was meant to do. Emotions killed careers. He wasn't going to be a victim of that storyline. "The only stupid fucks here are you two. You're nothing more than footnotes in my story." Swirling the glaive through the air once more, leaving cut holes in the purple mist around him as he pushes forward to face the two of them.

"Watch your mouth, Five before I rip it from your thick fucking skull."

Quickly, he doesn't put any theatrics to his strike this time. Swiping with the glaive, staring into the eyes of Five as he strikes with Yael's glaive. He's not going to die here to two ridiculous tributes who were getting fucking lucky. A mess of words already having been spilled out in front of him. Did the gamemakers want him to joke with them? Why him? Izar deserved death after Rene. Five was getting in the way and already started irritating him once more. As he pulls back, focusing on Izar, he glares even heavier as his eyes grow more ferocious than before. Almost as if the darkness of death or a devil have come over him. His sister would've said he's gone empty, hollow, and turned into the monstrous career he was always claimed to be by other kids.

"You wanted passion, Izar? Well you've got it." Slashing forward, he watches blood drip back in front of his eyes as he strikes out towards her. "I'm going to passionately put my blade through your fucking eyes." Angry and less teasing, he can feel his blood begin to boil with anger. All of those days before seem like child's play to this. The game's had reached a halfway point. There was no time to mess around anymore. Dyno Moreno wasn't going to let some lower district act like children. Fuck all the nonsense, this was his true self. A boy who would do anything to get the crown.

Even if it meant truly becoming the monster he wanted to pretend to be.

Not human?

Dyno's never been human in the Maverick had always been.

Instead, he's a devil. The boy with a smile who sends fear down the backs of those who dare to stand up to him.

Blood for blood.

Blow for blow.

He's going to enjoy killing these two.

(Dyno Moreno attacks Haizea Rose-Izar with Naginata [glaive])
u1EHarS8bMglaive
(Miss)

(Dyno Moreno attacks Itzal Usoa with Naginata [glaive])
glaive
(Shallow cut on right bicep 3.5)

glaive·glaive

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

I t z a l

And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?
A little too ironic
And yeah, I really do think

They start monologuing and to be honest, I ain’t even mad. You know when you watch television and see tributes flapping their gums at one another, and you just want to yell, just fucking kill each other already?.

Well, in their decision to hash out whatever the fuck happened these last few days, I was able to lean back and try to reassess if I wasn’t bleeding out already. You know, the gaping hole I managed to have put into my chest thanks to old Dyno there, I wasn’t sure how long it’d be before I joined Johnny up in the sky.

Much like time works differently here, I think part of us all grows up fast having to trauma bond over the ensuing chaos.

Like, take Haizea. The girl probably hadn’t even been kissed before this. She definitely had her basement flooded when we’d been stretching together in the training center. But here and now, she’d grown up – maybe realized that just because you could do something, you shouldn’t, and just because you wanted something, you weren’t going to get it.

And that part stung, you know? Having spent five days in front of cameras I didn’t want to be caught on the feed jerkin’ it, much less have Mirage wake up and decide then and there I just wasn’t worth it because I used my body like amusement park. I had wanted something carnal and something fast. Haze had seemed like a good time gal, but then, I was never very good at judging character. Shame, really.

“Heh. She got you good asshole.” I grinned and half turned away from them.

Which, you know. Angles. We’re in active fight. Me, with my glaive and guard down. Should’ve seen that this was not the best thought process for me.

“ERRRUGH.” Haze caught me in the back and I coughed. “I figured one was into penetration, but you too, Haze?” I coughed out a mouth full of blood and pulled myself forward and off her sword. “Fuck!”

…he’s just another fuck boy…

“And what about it?” I beamed. Maybe from loss of blood, maybe because what the hell did it matter to her, anyway? “And to think I was about to give you the ride of your life.”

I clucked my tongue.

One – to everyone’s surprise – made the whole thing about himself. Yada yada, the world was his, we were footnotes, and this was as serious as serious could be. Because, you know, he’d probably been training for this his entire life. Nothing better than carving up kids to show just how big and strong he was. You know, against enemies that had just learned how to carry a sword last fucking week.

He managed to glance his sword across my arm and I let out a hiss.

“Listen baby dick, if the hunger games is your whole personality, I would just throw it all away.” If I died here and now, at least I could hang my hat on the fact that I got to take this narcissist down a peg or two.

“Now hold still. You both would look a lot better with a little off the top.”

ELEGANT

[Itzal Usoa attacks Haizea Izar with his naginata (glaive)]
LE3VCSw|0Uglaive
[result:13052 -- 9.5 damage (Glaive) -- +1 blades]

[Itzal Usoa attacks Dyno Moreno with his naginata (glaive]
glaive
[result:13029 -- 3.5 damage (Glaive)]glaive·glaive

[Deleted]

Dyno monologues, as he does, and Haizea pants from the thick of combat while listening. She isn't used to the pain, her body shaking and borderline writhing from the missing fingers on her left hand. "Sweetheart, I only care about the tale we're spinning," he says to her, and she scowls at the thought of winding up just another character in Dyno's backstory. Just another jade in his crown - no way, if she dies here, she's taking him with her at least. One of them, Itzal or Dyno, but she refuses to go alone. 

"This isn't your story, Dyno," she says, barely ducking in time to avoid him taking her head off. He's quick, but she's quicker - it's most of what she's got. Harbinger told her of that when he first assessed her: use your size to your advantage. She's hard to hit and she hits hard, she's learned that much. "You don't think you're actually winning, do you?" Haizea can't help but grin as she starts her mind games, despite how terrified she is of him. 

Towering Dyno Moreno, "there's not a single person in this arena who'd let you do so, and you're struggling with me -" she thinks of Rene, selling herself short moments before her death. Haizea wonders if she's doing the same, treating herself like a non-threat just to get in Dyno's head, but if it works it'll work. She keeps her eyes trained on the career as Itzal speaks behind her, a boy she's deemed as less of a danger. 

That's where she would be wrong, he boasts and boasts of how good he is in bed and all she can do is groan, but that's not all he does. His glaive strikes harder than anything she anticipates, its blade dancing along her back and drawing blood; she can't deny he's killing her. "Fuck!" She spits, falling to her knees before picking herself back up immediately. There isn't time for weakness, "look, we can have all the fun in the world if we kill this psychopath first!" She lies, just lay off me - he knows how to strike where it hurts, that's for sure. 

There's a second of recollection where she finds herself praying for her god to show her which way to go. Who to strike first, how to play this to get out of here alive, but she comes up empty. She's met her matches and the only way through is by bloodshed alone - that's what the Gamemakers wanted. The end of her rebellion, the death of Haizea by two boys much larger than herself, she swallows her grievances before swinging again at Dyno Moreno. 

[ attacks Dyno Moreno with King Katana ]
PFaOIZek7a200+1000
[ 1128 -- Shallow Cut on Forehead -- 4.5 damage ]

Even in this moment, she doesn't hate Itzal Usoa, not like she does Dyno. There isn't a boiling to her blood or a bubbling in her stomach when she looks at him, only the loss and disgust of finding out he isn't who she thought he was. She had higher hopes of him than he ever did for himself, but she panics at the thought of killing him. They're deadlocked, though, head to head to head, somebody's dying here.

And it wouldn't be her, she lunges to stab at his crotch. 

[ attacks Itzal Usoa with King Katana ]
200+1000
[ 1185 -- Deep Gash on Stomach -- 9.0 damage + 1 ]

200+1000·200+1000

[Tom]

Blood still bleeds all the same.

Watching Yael's glaive miss completely sends him into a part of himself that's angry. There's no peace in his head when he thinks of the way he's always shown off all games only to come to this. Dyno Moreno's always been a boy. The boy who carried around a journal, spilling ink onto pages with stories of death, revenge, and beauty. Waxed poetry about the smallest of gifts humanity has to give. Days spent with a pen versus a sword, until Dyno Moreno found a safe haven in the way a sword swings. Stories and blades. All he's ever needed were stories and blades to live. Thoughts of his sister and mother's desire to raise him up higher and higher, support his hobbies. Wondering what they were thinking seeing him like this?

Would they tell others about him? Spread the times he was just a human with the world. Or would they show everyone how he's always been a killer, a career, or a monster. Blood drips from his head, hearing Itzal talk about Haizea getting him good. She did get him good. Good enough to show Izar was going to be a threat to his own crown, but that's what made a story good. Conflict leading to victory. Dyno can't help the way his forehead bleeds heavily, wiping at the blood once more to keep his eyes clear.

Watching Haizea stab into Itzal's back makes him feel pleased at what's happened so far. His voice comes forth in response, filled with a dark look in his eyes. "Izar got you goo too, didn't she? Just bleed out already." A smirk on his lips building once more until it falls again back into the expressionless glare. Back in the direction of striking, he pulls his blade across Itzal softer than he expected. The glaive in his hands burns with the tension in his arms, pulling at the tension and muscles as the mist surrounds them. A raging feeling of electricity burning through him as his blood spills little by little.

"Listen baby dick, if the hunger games is your whole personality, I would just throw it all away." Whole personality? Dyno has to laugh darkly at those words. Dyno's got more than just his training, his games persona, or his way of killing. A writer outside of games. The baby dick comment also makes him laugh. Dyno's heard the ways insecure boys tend to comment on dicks, just means that Itzal must be insecure just like most fuckboys. A laugh leave his throat as he speaks darkly.

"You don't need to see anything more than this, Fuckboy. You're going to just be a footnote in my story. A story always attached to my own." Except as he speaks, Itzal cuts into his side cutting slightly at his side. Dyno can feel the blood spill as a spark of pain burns in his side, but he's had worse. Other boys rough housing, knocking him up with bruises and cuts. Some even leaving him feeling winded after rough housing. This was nothing in comparison to the kids from one. The ones who desperately want to make a name for themselves. Only, Dyno Moreno remains at the end as the victor in every story he's apart of. The dreaded legacies at his feet as Dyno could remember the enjoyment of seeing others fall before his hands.

Only, now he's putting back on the mask. Ignoring the anger panging in his chest. He's got to keep his head on straight, focus on the legend he's spinning at his fingertips. Blood to be spilled. Stories to be tied together. A rivalry and some humor to be added to his own story. The Capitol will be eating up this fight for the next year. As he hears her speak, he lets his smile widen. This story was always going to be his. The one with the crown would be his own legend, his own tale. A story made for only the greatest of careers, the greatest of tributes. Dyno Moreno would not be the last one standing. As she tells him, he's struggling, he can't help the dark smile on his face as he speaks.

"You don't even know, Izar? You think you're getting one up on me. Trying to shake me? Yael thought she could do the same. Believed I wouldn't win in the end." A smile on his lips as he continues. "Struggling against you? No, I'm only just getting started. No one is going to let me win." Swishing the glaive against the mist, he lets his demeanor come back to the forefront as the blood drips from his forehead, smearing a red against his forehead and cheeks. "I want to enjoy this. I want to be challenged, to be questioned. It makes it all the more greater when I rip the life away from you." Only as he speaks, does he notices the blade coming from her back. Itzal taking the moment to strike out at Izar. A smirk on his lips as Haizea speaks once more.

"look, we can have all the fun in the world if we kill this psychopath first!"

Psychopath? People want him to be the villain. The one who's wrong. Dyno's always been seen as a psychopath for his desires, his beliefs, and his passions. Killing others wasn't enjoyable, but the honor, the valor of it was undeniably enjoyable. Psychopath seemed a bit too wrong. Psychopath is what people wanted to think of him as, but Dyno Moreno always knew he'd be the warrior, the king, and the storyteller. This story was his alone. As he can feel Haizea moving, Dyno moves his blade up to flick her katana against his forehead once more. Another wound to the head. The sound only reaching his right side as the crackling of electricity fills his other ear, leaving Dyno feeling shocked, but excited.

As Izar goes for Itzal, he watches with enjoyment as he sees blood spill once more. Everything was growing tense. His heart was in his throat as he feels his hands tighten against Yael's glaive. Using her weapon was meant to be a piece of her, he needed to kill just like he'd done with Yael. Burn away whatever life is in either of them. As he turns back to Haizea, his eyes burn with a darkness and an excitement. His voice is loud as he swishes the glaive in the air. "What do you think you can do, Izar? You're struggling. Bleeding. You're weaker than most. Don't you see? This battle's already over." Swishing the glaive at her, he smirks as he strikes, feeling himself growing heavier with his moments, but he's going to keep pushing. To keep fighting. No one. No one. Will get in the way of his legend.

"You'll die alone here, Izar. No one will care about you. Be glad you could even be apart of my legend."

The strike goes forward as he continues.

"Get ready for the climax, Haizea."

As he strikes, he switches up quickly, turning on his foot to focus on Itzal. The comic relief of a tribute. The boy who's insecure about himself, thinking dicks are the only important thing in life. A dark smirk thrown his way as Dyno feels the fog around them as if he's burning with the static of the air. His eyes focusing on Five as he looks to Yael's glaive, dripping with blood as he smiles heavily at the boy who's been a pain since he's met him. Dyno's voice drips with a dark excitement as he speaks. "You're a pain in the neck. A real fucker who's annoying as shit." Swishing the blade, he watches carefully as he continues to speak.

"I'm going to enjoy watching your life burn away."

This time, he swirls the glaive, striking out towards Five. The metal glittering with that same excitement as before. Memories of Yael's death filling his head. There's no time to mess around anymore. The end was drawing near. Dyno wasn't going to be the one to die here. Death was on his side. He'd fight the reaper if he had to. As the smirk darkens, he let's himself flow with the mist.

"Just become another footnote, Itzal."

The smile widens.

"Let's end this."

(Dyno Moreno attacks Haizea Rose-Izar with Naginata [glaive])
c0pbV|ygxIglaive
(Stabbed in back 9.0 +1 for blades blades)

(Dyno Moreno attacks Itzal Usoa with Naginata [glaive])
glaive
(Deep Gash on Back 8.5 +1 for Blades)

glaive·glaive

[Deleted]

While Dyno is busy killing Itzal, Haze flees as FUCK

Deuces Itzal xo

[Tom]

The ink spills; red and filled with unspoken words. A tale as good as gone. Dyno Moreno's hands tighten around the glaive as he pushes the weapon in and out, lets the death echo through his skin. A feeling of triumph fluttering in his body. There's no time to bask in the feeling. Izar wouldn't be getting away this time. No, he wasn't going to let her slip by this time. A dark excitement to his entire form as he comes away from another kill. More blood soaked into his hands as he turns to look for her. A gamble of a game, pieces taken off the board. Dyno Moreno wouldn't let her take anymore from him. This game was his to win. A dance he'd practiced since he was able to have him name pulled in front of all of Panem.

One needed a resurgence. A resurgence into their true might and strength; a show of power above the rest. No one could falter his path. Dyno Moreno would be the next victor for Panem. The one to become a legend and change the way the games are played. A laugh on his lips as he rips another life away, only to desire more. There's a glint of the man beneath the career, lost in all of this blood. Always the one to have wanted to fight, to win, and to earn everything within his grasp. Killing isn't easy. Dyno's known that since he was a child. Death never gets easier, but Dyno Moreno had no remorse. The desire to write all of his feelings down into the leatherbound journal at his side is stronger than before, but he shouldn't. Not for all of Panem to see.

Everything was falling into place. A legend written by his own hands, weaved together with the thread of fate, binding his legend with others. Yael. Itzal. More names added to his own tale being woven together over and over again. Their memories will become his carpet to walk down, his crown to be worn, and his story to be told. The feeling was invigorating for him. Only, he loses all of that emotion when he turns to see Izar taking her chance to escape. Grinning with all the blood still coating his face, his eyes staring her down as he shouts one last threat.

"I'll see you soon, Izar! Next time, it'll be your blood!"

All that's left is to collect his rewards and move on.

Cannons have started firing.

More have died.

There's no time for rest.

Not anymore.

(Dyno Moreno exits)