Round Two: Northern Feast

[Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie]

"Little girl gone, got a gun from a gangster
Run little girl, run little girl, bang ha"

No Dollface, I really do not think you are the biggest fish to fry at the moment. You are like an annoying wasp, buzzing around my head, distracting me, stinging things relentlessly with no actual outcome. A pesky grievance.

Just like my brother, he tried to explain the way things worked to me. Treated me like a dumb little girl who did not know what was going on… I get to kill a bunch of people and then go home...duhh. I knew exactly what was happening.

His voice might have been calm but the way he used his sword as a pointer, like a teacher explaining the solution to a math problem. The condescending tone of it all.

I crossed my arms to the best of my abilities while still gripping my sword as tight as I could. The blade was a source of energy, the stronger my hold, the more it empowered me to keep going. I was one with the blade, an extension of my arm and my abilities. Eyes rolling back so far into my head for a split second I could be mistaken as possessed.

”If only there was a soul to possess”, my brothers voice echoed in my head.

Great, now I have two pathetic boys trying to tell me better. There is nothing a girl needs more than to have boys telling her who she is and what she is doing. This was supposed to be fun; it was supposed to be my moment to finally play a game I knew I could win. If I could not laugh in the face of murder than I would have to accept the horrible reality of it all. The fact that I killed the one person who would love me regardless of how much he hated me. The fact that this was a cruel and unjust punishment. The fact that I was no longer and never would be a normal little girl ever again. All the truths I never wanted to face were better locked up and stored behind laughter and wildly inappropriate comments.

”Shut up Kaiden!” I screeched. ”I killed you! You are dead! Start acting like it!”, to everyone else it must have seemed as if I screamed into a void, to me it was the only thing that felt remotely like reality.

Dollface was gripping onto our meek little prey, claiming her as his. He wanted to have her so badly, great, he could have her. I could not take his honeycomb voice much longer. It only took a few words out of his mouth for me to understand that I did not like him very much. At home it would have not been a problem. I would have told mom and mom would have made sure we took care of it. We were in control, once again mom was not here. Even if I wished she was in this second.

Thankfully I did not need my mother to put the bastard in his place after all. The red beady-eyed monstrosity from the hedge did the job instead. I burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter as the creature attacks Dollface hitting him in the chest. This was just too good to be true, karma really was on my side. ”Hell, that must’ve hurt”, I try to get the words out between the hysterics. ”You silly little Dollface, I know all but one has to die.” I ramble on trying to calm myself in order to mimic his voice and tone. ”That is exactly why I wish you absolutely nothing and hope to see you never”.

I curtsy ever so slightly trying to hold the no longer so white cloth, that was my sorry excuse for clothing, up in a wannabe royalty fashion.

I move on to find my next victim. Across the area I spot Bambam fighting another tribute, not my place to get in the way of her fun. Let her have another kill before I inevitably have to go after her. Besides, it really is rude to break other people’s toys.

Potential number 2. The boy first attacked by the creature from Harlan’s wet dreams. This time I would be sure to get a name.

”Hello, I’m Luja. Could you please do me the honors of telling me your name before I kill you. I have a list”, I skip over to him sword swinging with bloodlust.

"I like your blood on my teeth just a little too much"

Table credits to rave <3
Lyrics: Little girl gone by chinchilla
Permission from Arc to write Kaiden as Luja's hallucination

[Luja attacks Ullr; Sword]
M4QFfvCUwYsword

sword

[d7f amber bosch 🌿 tris]

He lifts his rapier like an executioner — and the golden thread of fate is pulled taut. It is ready and willing to receive the end. He is calamity, and Mouse is time. Again and again, they will meet. This is how it feels. And he hopes that someday he will be able to find the melody to match it.

A girl smiles up at him with blood in her mouth, a halo of crimson pooling around her head as it lies on a pillow of earth. Mouse is a peaceful enemy. There is no weapon in her grasp, no cruelty leaving her tongue, only her quiet gaze reflecting his own back to him. It is a mirror image going on and on, bouncing off every surface. Wherever he looks, some semblance of his trauma stares back at him. It asks him to face the choice he has made, and the choice he is currently making.

If he had his guitar, if he could make a home for music within his lungs again, if he could uncurl his fingers around this blade — Romeo would offer her something more than what he is capable of providing. Is he a boy playing monster, or is he a monster playing boy? He is not so sure, so he will leave this question to Mouse, to be answered only in silence.

When the thunder cracks over the ocean, when he is standing on the shore of his home again, he will claim that sound in the girl’s name. Let the world be her voice. He will listen.

He closes his eyes, allows an inhale to fill his body with all the resolve he can muster. But as he goes to strike, to plunge his dagger into her heart — another drives its way through his own. For a moment, he's convinced that he has underestimated himself in a different way, that Luja took the opportunity to strike him with his back turned, that his honeyed words have played him for a fool. Gasping, screaming, hand to chest to agony.

But to his horror, what he sees is not a human standing on the edge, but a beast that looks as if it has stalked out of the abyss, the reaper come to tear him to pieces and carry the essence of him away. His feet are hovering above the ground, his breaths are shallow and panicked, he realizes now that surely his heart has not been burst, but the tail of this monstrosity has pierced him inches to the vital organ. He can taste rust in his mouth, head delirious, weightless. Its fangs are dripping with drool, hunger doesn't look so appealing in this light.

Is this what becomes of people who lose themselves to the wanting?

Somehow, his white knuckle grip has championed the blow, still grasping his rapier, still teetering like a soul being tethered up to the heavens. Swaying, swirling, and then — he can hear a cackle he can only trust is Luja, just as he feels the lurch, the pull, the exact moment the beast bores of him and tosses him to the side like a ragdoll. He howls as the tail exits his chest, using the last bit of his rationality to hold out his arm so that he does not skewer himself. He lands close to Mouse, staring at her once again.

Seconds, maybe a minute, maybe several, maybe lifetimes — he is breathless, a boy standing on a dark path leading down a long labyrinth, even in the next plane he is standing in this same place. When he comes to, he is fueled by adrenaline, and pain, and a desperation driven by a terrible and rage-fed selfishness. He cannot fathom the idea of lying here and accepting that his ambition will not be realized; he is a hypocrite as much as he is a saving grace. It all depends on the narrator, what instrument sets the score.

He crawls to Mouse, dragging his rapier alongside him, itching and burning and aching and unraveling at the seams — and then, so suddenly, looming before her, she is smiling up at him with blood in her mouth.

There is blood in his mouth, too.

How can two people share one wound?

"Peace." It is the only eulogy he can offer — before he gives in to the rage, the hunger, completely. He will not sit idly by in this cage and not be the one with the winning hand. Whatever it takes, however many fingers he has to snap out of place, Romeo will see to it that he not only survives this place, but that he does so with the favor of the Capitol on the other side. He is not a fool, he is not a dog blind to the collar around his throat. There is only one kind of show they want out of him, and it's not the doll-like face Luja is so keen to point out.

They want gore, and he wants glory.

Both of these wants will be fed.

romeo stabs mouse twice | rapier

hECYMy_PEDsword
3.5

sword
8.0

sword·sword

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

I taste the blood, and a smile spreads across my face as I watch my blade slice through his skin. It's almost music to my ears, and yet I can't even begin to wonder why I'm feeling this way. I'm half dead, and all it would take is for one person to push my over the edge. But I'm not afraid. All I can do is keep fighting. I tried encouraging Ember to do the same, but she was weak. Everyone here is weak. I move around trying to keep myself away from them. It's easier to do seeing the area we're in. My mind is wondering, and the last thing I think of is falling over dead just like my district partner did. But I didn't get away quick enough. I feel a trickle of blood, and it's nothing major, yet it still is annoying. I'm not afraid, though, I'm not going to lay down and die.

Maybe moving away wasn't the the smartest idea. It never is. Sometimes staying in battle makes things even easier than they originally thought, but right now all I can do is think for myself. I take a step back trying to take it all in when someone comes running towards me, and I feel her blade slice into my skin, and then she tries talking to me, and I'm not going to give her the benefit of the doubt and talk to her. She has no right to know my name, and I ain't telling her nothing. I just look at my own sword, and I know what I have to do. She made a mistake attacking me.

Thankfully the mutt has left me alone this time which makes me happy, but it's still terrifying knowing what's going on. This mutt is huge, and part of me feels bad for the guy it attacked. I've been there, lifted into the air, and squeezed by its giant tail, but I refuse to let myself experience that emotion. Instead, I turn my attention back to the girl, Luja, who just attacked me, and I need to deal with her. She may think she's funny and strong since she's keeping a list of people she killed, but I will not give her the satisfaction of knowing my name. Nobody deserves it. Maybe if she paid attention she would figure it out. I take a deep breath and ready myself, only someone falls and a cannon sounds and it's completely startling.

I remember the words I told Ember, how I told her she needed to be stronger, to attack harder, and I need to remember this for myself. I know I can do better, I know I am stronger. I want to make my district proud, and maybe it'll heal the pain lingering inside. My family has to miss me, and I sort of miss them, but I'm on my own. I have been for years. Ever since my dad died. Maybe I'll join him soon, maybe I'll see Ember again. But I'm not ready. There's still so much I want to do and experience.

credit to Rave

Ullr attacks Luja | Sword

wtIoA17rCPsword
1045 -- Deep Gash on Chest -- 9.5 damagesword

[gm bourgeois decadence [aya]]

Man, this guy really thinks he's trying something, huh? I catch his sword with mine right before it takes another inch off my already-buzzed hair — it's reflexes again. Who hasn't had to throw the handle bars that just came off their bike to deflect some well-deserved road rage? It still rattles my whole skeleton, the same way crashing my bike into a guy with a wheelbarrow full of empty paint cans did.

He's not road rage, though — the way he moves is the opposite of pure angry adrenaline, practiced and surprisingly poised. Graceful, almost — like the way swans look from the other side of the quarry lake, instead of the way swans look when they're charging you from ten feet away, hissing like hell and trying to break your neck 'cause you looked at 'em wrong. Like the platonic ideal of a swan instead of the squalid reality.

"Nothing like a feast to bring likeminded people together," he says, sardonic laughter almost sing-song.

"Never been to a feast before," I say. I ate more than one can of Fancy Feast, if that counts. "Always seemed like they'd be full of bougie assholes." That's a lie actually — you know I didn't have access to salmon. "I'll take your word for it. Were your feasts fancy, Moneybags?"

I've spent the last several years maintaining and modding the World's Shittiest Bike. I know what a little bit of grit does to an engine. It gets in just the right place and fucks everything up. I'm a little curious now, when's this guy gonna snap?

[bambam attacks larkin, sword]

j6njcoAJiUsword

[1169 -- Shallow Cut on Chest -- 4.0 damage]

sword

[napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

This close, all of her sharp edges suddenly flash like an uncut gem exposed to light.

No, not the girl you killed at all. She plants her foot in the dirt hard and pushes back against your sword harder. You almost smile. The will to survive looks to be an instinct laced through her entire being. A patchwork of grit—you almost feel bad for trying to tear her to shreds. At least she is not hiding the fact that she wants you dead. 

Back home, this sort of honesty was a rare find, as close to impossible. You were taught to have manners, tell a soup spoon apart from a dessert one, hold a dinner knife the proper way. But what if you do not want a spoon? What if you are willing to dig in with your fingers alone?

“Never been to a feast before,” she retorts, teeth clenched over each word. “Always seemed like they’d be full of bougie assholes.” You laugh then. Tilting your head to one side, your subsequent grin is honest as well, splitting from ear to ear as you do a brief nod. “Not entirely wrong.” Dinner parties, evening soirees. You realize, with a twist of your empty and angry stomach, that all of those lavish feasts were thrown to honor nothing. They were purposeless and wasteful, and worst of all, they were competitions of wealth between one family and the next.

This isn’t the first game you have played. You know what it is like to compete for status—you were born to two people who desperately did it for years. But every status earned in a broken world remains as shattered as the rest. Every status, except maybe victor of the 8th Annual Hunger Games.

Looking at her unlocks a memory you have kept away. You see pigtails, spectacled eyes, and long fingers. Ingrid, her name was. She held the title of lead violinist in the Swan String Orchestra first, all before she suffered a terrible tragedy in Science class. A corrosive agent spilled into her backpack and, the moment she reached out to take out the textbooks, ate at the skin.

You were the first one to call the nurse.

"I'll take your word for it,” her words ring you back to the present, clear even through the ear-buds you wear.

“Were your feasts fancy, Moneybags?"

You hop back a few feet away, staggering on your feet for a moment before they steady themselves. The steel sings a low whistle note again as you pull it back like a violin-bow, poising it to play. “Yes,” you respond. “But I prefer my meals to be less full of shit.”

You lunge.

 [Larkin attacks Bambam - ♫ - Sword]

VoQ3uzsTFSsword

1031 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage (Sword)

She is fast. Your sword nicks, and you feel your teeth rattle with a growl as you pull it back. Your eyes hold hers for a moment, a small ceasefire. But the war never stopped. “I am going to kill you,” you tell her and your own self. Orders have always come easy to you in the past, so why shouldn’t you issue one to your own self?

“No pretense, no bullshit," you spit the word out. "I am going to kill you.”

And everyone else. Those are the orders. 

sword

[hesper hart 🐺 d9f]

And that is why he's doing all of this in the first place- the artistry of the kill is what makes it. A perfectly fine boy standing over a girl who bleeds at the mouth is a villain's origin story. But what happens now, what happens instead, with Romeo crawling over to her and finishing it as quickly as possible, it's a truly devastating thing to witness. The crowd's energy is electric as the little Mouse from 9 takes her final breaths.

Perhaps it is the food making them groggy, or maybe he's waited too long to feed them and now they're all useless, but he sort of feels like they're all more focused on saving themselves at this point than killing one another. Most attacks seem to be more defensive: pushing others away, creating distance, trying to run away from pursuers entirely. If not for Mouse's death and the Grief Eaters' terror-inspiring screams, Harlan has no doubt that the crowd would be growing weary with anticipation.

He looks to Link.

"Let's start wrapping up now, shall we?"

They think the Grief Eaters have been fearsome so far? They've seen nothing. A series of buttons are pressed, and both the Grief eater's breathing and the strange metallic whirring coming from within it seem to quicken pace by a large amount. Its pupils dilate. For a moment it goes entirely still, and then all at once it bursts forth. He starts with Luja, but all will feel the wrath of the monster this time.

[Grief Eater attacks Luja]
sQjTZirVY9sword
[4]

[Grief Eater attacks Romeo]
sword
[9]

[Grief Eater attacks Ullr]
sword
[4]

[Grief Eater attacks Bambam]
sword
[3.5]

[Grief Eater attacks Larkin]
sword
[9.5]

sword·sword·sword·sword·sword

[Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie]

"Little girl gone, got a gun from a gangster
Run little girl, run little girl, bang ha"

A mutt’s claw slices me in the back right across where Kaiden stabbed me. It was just pouring salt in the wound my brother created. First the capitol has us kill each other, then they have their little mutant spider cats remind me that it was there. I was just getting over it all, but they could not let me forget the pain that was inflicted.

Things were getting personal now and not the kind of personal I wanted.

Mom always made sure I knew everyone’s name that I have ever had to cross. Every store we robbed; we knew the names of the workers. Everyone who ever owed us money, we knew their names and the names of their kids. Every single bone I broke, I knew the name of the person. Every kid at school I picked a fight with was also written down in my list. I was taught never to forget a person’s name otherwise you will lose the human aspect of it.

”Ironic that the ice queen herself was the only thing keeping you from becoming her own personal mutt, huh?” Kaiden’s ghost questions me.

Was he wrong?

Was I only ever a mutt to mom? There was only one way of finding out and that was making it back home so I could ask her myself. I shake my head at my brother trying my best to ignore his voice that took over my thoughts.

I needed to concentrate on the infuriating boy that towered over me. I may have the personality of someone tall and strong, but I was still only a sixteen-year-old girl with time to grow into my own body. Every word, every skip, every breath had to make them believe that I was better than them. They did not know me; they did not know the life I lived but they had to believe that I was everything I was and more. Stand tall with your nose to the sky, act as if you already have that crown. Give ‘em hell Luja, show them who the real game master is!

The problem with playing game is that you need opponents, opponents who are willing to play. Kaiden did not want to dance with you, but he did put on a show. The mousey girl was stolen by an arrogant dirtbag and the boy in front of you would not even give you the common courtesy of his name. Everyone here was taking things all a bit too seriously. They were damaged and weak and not properly enjoying the bloodshed. It was a god-awful situation; I was not that oblivious. The problem was how was I supposed to have any fun if no one else was going to join in on it.

I let out an overly annoyed sigh as I pouted my plump lips. A little girl about to throw a temper tantrum. I stared at him daring him to take his best shot. Come at me if you can, you tedious asshole. A staring contest to see who would break first. I was never any good at those.

My dagger like eyes filled with frustration as I broke my silence, I never could quite hold my tongue. ”Everyone here is such a buzzkill!” I shouted at him loosing control of my body as I stomped my foot angerly. ”Tell me your goddamn name already!” if he did not give me one, I would just have to think of one for him.
That is when the creature strikes him in the chest.

"I like your blood on my teeth just a little too much"

Table credits to rave <3
Lyrics: Little girl gone by chinchilla
Permission from Arc to write Kaiden as Luja's hallucination

[Luja attacks Ullr; sword]
CJhVKv_h8Vswordsword

[d7f amber bosch 🌿 tris]

Two quick slashes — that’s what it takes to kill a mouse.

Romeo stares down at her, dead girl, memory in the making; his life has become a series of dominoes falling in the exact same spot. Endlessly, he will feel the heat of the blood that now stains his hands. His grip holds steadfast, rapier dripping scarlet and the corners of his lips stained with crimson. He’s lowered the shoulder of his toga, removed the sash around his torso and begun to tighten it around his chest like a bandage.

Even drowning in death, his only thought is to grab at life, to stay afloat on his own indomitable will. He can count four other strangers in the room with him, one monster with fangs still dripping with drool. If freedom means that each of them must fall to his blade, then that is reason enough to stand. He rises to his feet, his breaths like embers burning inside his lungs. This thing he wants to hold so closely hurts him so deeply.

He scans the space, settles on a girl he once considered attacking before — then, he had settled on talking about music, nature, pretty little distractions behind an iron wrought fence. Only there are no bars between them now, no song coming from his mouth save for the scream that the creature tore out of him. He is grateful for the chaos, for the chance to regain his footing, trying to close in on his target as the beast charges again, this time lunging at each of them in turn.

When it crashes into him, shrapnel tearing flesh, it is a quick and terrible shredding. As soon as the pain flares under his flesh, the beast has already moved towards its next victim, leaving the spray of his blood hanging in the air. When it hits the earth, it will fester there. He wonders what will grow from him, beauty or poison?

Rage is his northern star, ambition his favorite tune.

Stalking up behind Bambam, he is a boy standing so close to death that he's willing to push anyone else over the edge.

"I think,” and with an inhale, he remembers the lyrics she shared with him, ”your song suits this moment better." And he's right, and his grip on his blade is secure. He can still taste the rust on his tongue.

And he swings.

romeo attacks bambam | rapier

CPmkCwsVissword
3.5

sword

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

It annoys her, and I love it, but before I can do anything else, I watch the mutt start lashing out at everyone. This time, I'm aware of where I need to be. It doesn't lift me up in the air, yet it does bring me closer to dying. It brings me one step closer to suffering the same fate as Ember and the others who have gone on before. I'm almost wondering if I'm a horrific person for ending her life. She said she forgave me for what I had to do, but it's still not enough for me to find the complete forgiveness in my soul. I did what I had to do, these others are doing what they had to do, and I can't fault them. But I have to keep my face entirely clear of emotions. I've been brave and strong up until this point, and I'm not about to let anyone push me away.

I look at the others, and maybe, just maybe I can figure out from here and bring myself closer to staying alive just one more battle. It's hard to know, hard to think because my entire mind is racing, my heart is prancing, my muscles are trembling. It's hard to even focus on the task at hand. Everything is crumbling around me, and this girl just wants to know my name. Well, she's never going to find out. I have no desire to tell her. I want to be just another face in the sky. It's all I ever desire. Nobody deserves to ask my name before trying to kill me. It's the last thing I should do. I turn away from her, and instead I keep my eyes on the mutt. It's deadly, but it has to have a weakness just like everyone in this godforsaken arena. I, however, am not weak. I am strong, and they'll figure it out one way or another.

That's when I close my eyes, and I know Ember would want me to keep fighting as hard as I can. She would want me to succeed. My dad would want me to succeed. It's all I have, all I can do. And then when I'm ready I make my way back over to her, and I look at her making sure to keep my eyes locked with her, and I hold my arms out giving her a free shot to do whatever she desires. Swearing and threatening me will not get me to talk. She's going to die, and I want to make sure if it. I want people to see what I'm capable of. This time I'm doing it for me. I have one life to live, and I'm not about to destroy it. I want to do the best I can, so when my time comes, I'm finally at peace.

credit to Rave

Ullr attacks Luja | Sword

fY98yB_ADesword
1040 -- Miss -- 0.0 damagesword

[gm bourgeois decadence [aya]]

At least Moneybags knows that rich people suck. It's not like we don't, either — I wear Shear Hill Trash like a badge of honor. You know the trash part is accurate. You always wore that shit prouder than me.

"I am going to kill you," Moneybags declares, and I can tell that he wants to mean it, but I dunno about that. "No pretense, no bullshit — I am going to kill you."

The way this is going, I'm pretty sure if I had some kind of leg armor I'd be unstoppable. Leather chaps or something. If I was fancy, maybe some fringe so it would look cool blowing in the wind riding around on Death Trap.

The ten-foot-tall biomechanical mutant white rabbit bunny spider is the only thing that's clipped me anywhere else this whole time. I don't have the energy to worry about that. What would you do about that? Get the hell out of here, probably — doesn't seem like an option. Ducking under the table sure didn't work the girl who tried it. But I'm not fighting that bullshit, either — presumably they'll turn that shit off sooner or later. Hope it stops. I'm not up for troubleshooting whatever engine's running that thing. That's the kind of trouble you're better off shooting instead.

In the meantime, it's chewing up the others worse — the boy from four loses a hand, Moneybags gets speared in the stomach — and, you know, it's hard to be mad about a nick on my shoulder. As long as it doesn't get me like that, I'm doing okay.

The singer stalks up behind me, so I know what's coming before he announces it — "I think your song suits this moment better," he says, so I tell him, "No shit." Death or seagulls: which sounds more like Hunger Games? — and scramble away just enough that his sword only — you guessed it — grazes my leg.

I turn back to Moneybags. "Okay," I tell him. He wants to kill me, he can get in line. "Good luck with that." I'm not here to die. None of us are.

[bambam attacks larkin, sword]

ikfjEkHHONsword

[1075 -- Stabbed in Bicep -- 8.5 damage]

sword

[hesper hart 🐺 d9f]

Their agony makes no difference to the creature- their suffering is just a word. The screams and the running- it's all well within the predicted outcomes they prepared for. Those screams nothing more than recorded audio data to be stored away until it feels worth it to use for something else some day, the patterns of that running analyzed for future reference. The Grief Eater Harlan controls doesn't even look winded yet- it's a shame the tributes are all so much more... organic.

Luja finishes talking to ghosts and decides to face some demons, lining herself up right across from Ullr. She's even bold enough to introduce herself. Harlan supposes it's smart to create an impression: it isn't like they'd have any real inklings of who anyone else here is or what they're even capable of. Ullr has no idea that the ghost Luja speaks to is the brother she killed. Luja has no idea how easily Ullr disposed of the little girl from his home. Neither got to see the moment when the other chose to become a survivor- it's easier not to believe things when they cannot be held like that. But it happened. Both of them are indeed outstanding killers.

The mutt slinks toward them in its hungry rage, skittering at first before graduating to a full gallop. It beckons closer, closer, the metallic parts of it clanging haphazardly against themselves only broken up by the occasional wet slapping sound that comes from the metal hitting one of the fleshy bits. To exist is to suffer for these creatures- that is why they are called what they are called. After all, misery loves company.

It reaches them in seconds, and Harlan let's it choose who it wants between the two of them. It wants no time for consideration, and immediately sinks its tail all the way up to the hilt into Ullr's stomach. It wishes to finish this fight the way it started, it would seem.

Almost mockingly this time, the mutt holds Ullr into the air like a puppet, dangles him inches away from its fangs dripping with red-tinged saliva. And it screams.

[Grief Eater attacks Ullr (requested)]
dvUBT2uZD7sword
[8]

sword