Round Two: Southern Feast

[lance]

One thing you learn living around animals for most of your life is that they, like everyone else on this planet, have their own little patterns and behaviors and quirks. One cow back on the farm might just be the sweetest lil thing you've ever met, nuzzlin' and mooin' until you give her back scritches, while her sister might want nothing to do with you unless the stars align in a certain way and each of her four stomachs are exactly seventy two point one seven percent full.

Same thing applies to this monstrosity here. Sure, it's more metal than beast, but it too has its patterns, and as it swipes for that one boy a second time, I make the deduction that it ain't here just to create chaos - there's a plan there, a certain sort of malevolent intelligence that saw this one boy, decided to say "fuck you in particular", and is focusing on him and him alone for the meantime. It can't be because of a failure to kill someone - not if the corpse of the boy I'd attempted to strike at the very beginning is anything to go by - so for now, I think I'm safe.

Well. Mostly. Safe, up to the point that this cocky ass girl who clearly thinks she's Ripred's gift to battered, beaten up tributes has thus far been unable to strike me. And it's not even like how Reno lost the will to fight yesterday - like, this bitch is clearly trying to hack me apart and yet twice now there's been so little power behind her strikes that even my noodly lil arms are able to stop them in their tracks.

(Barely, mind ya, but like hell I'm ever gonna admit that.)

She snarls at me, talkin' shit like so many of the kids back home use to, and okay, I think I can break my vow of silence around her, cause the chances of me accidentally feeling sympathetic towards her appear to be slim to none.

"Could say the same t'you," I grunt, arms trembling with the effort of not getting sliced into pieces. "How the fuck did you make it to today when you're so predictable even I can stop ya in your tracks?"

It's a familiar strategy, poking the beast, but something tells me this girl'll be even easier to rile up than Reno was.

Provided she survives my next bladelock-break-into-a-semi-stable-slash, anyway.

veala attacks marrow; sword

T6iDpaFScfsword

1190 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage

sword

[ryan]

the boy falls, he goes limp after the boy from six lays into him with his own sword. the cannon sounds, and for once, marcus feels like he is calm. there is something about death that does not scare him anymore.

the problem is, he feels like it isnt scaring everyone else either.

he takes a deep breath, pulling himself from the blade and taking a long and deep breath. his chest hurt, but he was alive. he pulled his sword from the boy from twelve and he looked down for a moment. he looked like he did not want to go, but neither did marcus.

it was better the other, and he knew that.

the boy from six said something to him, and while he was still in a state of shock, he made eye contact with him and nodded. yes, together. for now. he had a feeling that none of this would actually last, that eventually, they were going to have to kill each other. however, in this time on uncertainty, marcus could at least try to make it all make sense.

"yes, same side." marcus wasnt one for many words when he was in pain. in fact, the pain is what was driving him to get this over and done with. "stand behind me then." marcus looks at him and starts to walk towards the others. he has no clue what he is doing here. there is no strategy, no way to really gauge who should actually die. no justice.

marcus was in a dilemma, but there was only one answer that he could turn too.

so he ran towards the others and swung violently.

and beautifully.

[D10M marcus emberstatt attacks D3F Blue Cameron | sword]
1. Veela
2. Marrow
3. Blue
Nc36Zi9Nmk1-3

sword
[1156 -- Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage
(Sword)]

1-3·sword

[4m dagger thane 🗡jay]

"Oh, it's so nice of you to join me," I stretch my grin across my face, it's wide and full of pride from her assent to my words, "I thought this would be a one-way conversation with your corpse." She has to be cut down from her high horse, closed-lipped with her blade tearing through the fabric of the air being the only sound she creates.

And, I have to toy with her a bit. Break her mind like her bones, crush the sinew and marrow under a bloodied foot. Make her believe I'm just as much a monster as I pretend to be.

Make them believe.

It's all a show—the courtyard is my stage and the cameras are my audience. My cruelty is a birthright performance.

"That's a mighty big mouth you have for a girl hitting wind," I taunt, barely side-stepping the zealous slash, the canyon of air caressing the edge of my cheek. The sound of steel lingers in my head like bile in the back of my throat, but I shake my head and shrug it off, I've got an important impression to make.

"Here's a few pointers on how to wield that right."

I twist towards her, my movements heavy and earnest, I want her to taste the metal on her skin. The sword is clunky in my grasp, my muscles tense and aching, fire licking up the side of my arm. The wounds aren't fresh, but the blood still spills. Perhaps I'll make her taste that too.

marrow attacks veala | sword

6icg6T1Xiasword

[ 4.0 ]

sword

[Deleted]

So I am a killer now. 

It's undeniable now, a bit of disgust settling in himself as he looks over the dead boy's corpse. He can't regret it, he shouldn't regret it... he completely regrets it. Is it even worth it? With how little the chance is that he lives this, is it even worth the dead bodies he leaves along the way? Bryony had been a mercy killing, if he had it any other way she would be here in his place, but there was no saving himself from this. That boy wanted to live, was fighting for it even to his last breath, and Delta cut him down regardless. 

There's a solemnness to him as he lets the boy take place in front of him, holding the sword as far from himself as he can. The distance does nothing but make his arm ache, yet he can't make himself pull it forwards. He looks to the ground as he steps, looking up just in time to catch the beast lunging at him once more. Delta yelps before taking off in a spring, quick despite his fatigue in a way he had never been before. He only catches his breath once the whirring machine crashes into the hedges, heaving in his inhales as he props himself on the sword. 

"Shit," that was close! Delta's braided updo threatens to come undone, a loose strand in his eyes as he straightens back out. His arms are outstretched as he stares into the crowd, "what do you WANT with me, man!" He shouts at the gamemaker, wherever the motherfucker is. This beast is relentless, even as he pours blood into the sand it isn't good enough - they still wish him dead. 

"Is this what you bastards want!" Waving the sword over his head now, "well, fuck, what am I even waiting for then," the anger of the last two days burning in his wrists and lungs. Delta takes it out on the first tribute he sees, giving way for exactly what the capitol wants to see. A boy turned into a killer, what's the point in fighting it? If his two bodies weren't enough, he'd kill the shred of himself that believed he was a good person, too. 

Is it worth it? No. 

But hell if he wasn't going to try. 

[ attacks veala ]
POtLsQPvq8200+1000
[ 1027 -- Deep Gash on Left Bicep -- 8.0 damage ]

"Can you people die already? I'm fucking freaking out!"

200+1000

[nolan goode 10m / kaitlin.]

blue cameron.

say       softly,        say       grudge,      say you don't know how to play pretend /  which one hurts more, which one hurts more, which one says my name. calcified tastes like ash / ash tastes like fear  there's a million ways  to understand    what it is   to draw  a line      in the sand  thats the      first thing    that    matters /    that    says destroy  it feels like a doorway / shadow thing, it pulls me in until there's nothing but light, nothing but light, nothing but light / I gasp / this is a house without mirrors.        I reveal something that looks like the light,     spill my blood, / I hope you know    oh, I hope you know      every boundary is a resurrection you have changed me. a gasp, a laugh, a boy who doesn't know what I've been though—burn, burn burn,     worst of all, worst of all    I kill the thing you see      broken, pieces cinder, I build the world from blood and sheet music. everything taste like ash.  nothing is kind enough to carry me, nothing is kind enough to carry me, snap / crackle / pop — fragment of information like a bottle cap — you shatter like glass against a concrete wall / it's not too late to turn back / look at the way a crack beneath the door reveals the light.  when did the truth set me free / when did the truth set me     free  when did it      remind me         how it feels to breathe. blue attacks marcus. hXTlklrXAksword 0

sword

[Benson Sharpe D3M [Tom]]

Metal grinding against bone; gears whirring with everyone second. The controller in his hand starting to feel hotter than before. A certain intrigue in the feast down below builds in his chest as he keeps his focus on his metal beast and the boy from Six who's gotten his attention now. Memories of being lost in the outskirts of Six and Seven fill his head as he remembers the spider's original form he'd built. A soft hum of intrigue drips from his tongue as Link sits up a bit more straighter and leans forward as he hears Harlan to his left. "Let's start wrapping up now, shall we?" A quiet nod is all that he returns for now as he starts to mess with the analog sticks. The sweat on his hands starting to make his hands clammy after all of this.

Gamemaker Godfrey was truly an incredible man. Taking in the movements of his controller, Link feels a bit more impressed as he lets that interest flood to the surface with a small smile of a twitch of his lips as he looks to the northern group as his creation begins to rip into the group. Blood dripping from it's appendages as Link gruffly comments. "Yeah, I've received enough data." Focusing back to the southern feast, he watches the five tributes left begin to move. Six continues to show a strength that's intriguing to Link. It's too bad that he refused to fight in the first round. Squaring his shoulders he focuses on the task on hand, killing enough tributes to please Harlan Godfrey.

Pushing the analog stick forward, he begins to quickly press a number of buttons in succession as the metallic chewed gum creature rises up on two of it's red glowing metallic legs as a shrill of a scream echoes from it's lips. Drool scattering across the dirt below the metallic horror as the pungent smell of blood drips from it's pincers. Mandibles clicking together as bone and metal screech together until the starving creature moves with a speed unnatural, bones breaks in succession as the beast goes. Unaffected by the sounds it's making as Link presses another button.

Fearsome creatures built by his own hands, but it's time to push them to their limits now. Hunger prominent in their eyeless face as the metallic horror bounds forward beginning with the girl from ten and making it's way through all of them. Each strike coming from a different sharpened leg, metal ripping again the white flesh of it's biological body. Shrill battle cry coming from it's throat as the beast lashes out. Link doesn't smile, but calmly speaks to the open air watching his creation, the Grief Eater lash out. "It's time for you to feast." A deadly excitement seems to build from the metallic horror as it's warpath continues.

[Grief Eater attacks Veala]
82mP_Jorkmsword
[3.5]

[Grief Eater attacks Marcus]
sword
[4.0]

[Grief Eater attacks Marrow]
sword
[8.0]

[Grief Eater attacks Delta]
sword
[8.0]

[Grief Eater attacks Blue]
sword
[4.5]

sword·sword·sword·sword·sword

[lance]

Yeah, as I figured. I really need to learn to shut up.

It's one thing to talk shit and fail to back it up - like hell, if I suffered for every time I talked a big game and couldn't follow through with it then I'd might as well have the devil himself as my torturer - and yet it's another thing to talk shit, fail to back it up, and then because you couldn't shut up, life decides to take it as a challenge.

Case in point: I swing at the annoying girl, and I miss. Okay, not shocking, I did that several times with Reno and he was bigger and slower. She talks shit at me, something about giving me pointers about swinging my blade as if she has any better idea about how to wield this antique than I do. And I'm about to say as such when she actually manages to predict my block this time and hit me.

It's a cut, but it's better than any damn thing I've done. So what do I do?

I tempt fate, of course.

"Oh no, my greatest weakness," I say in as deadpan a voice I can manage. "A single cut. Whatever shall I do against such superior skill?"

The answer? Get stabbed from behind by the murdering boy, whose panic levels have skyrocketed for some reason in the few seconds that I wasn't able to focus on my surroundings, and then immediately get slashed by the giant monstrosity that apparently has unleashed its final form or something.

And okay, that fucking hurts. It's like yesterday, except instead of having my one opponent equally on the ropes with me, there's still four others living and breathing and in arguably better shape than me, and there's still the rampaging beast.

It's about then that it hits me, same way a stampeding cow might if they were capable of such raw emotion. I'm going to fucking die. This place, this arena, this foreign city far from home is going to be my grave, and I can't do a damn thing about it.

Sounds become muted. Vision blurs. A part of me just wants to hasten the process, to lay down and die and let the first kid who happens to stumble across me do their thing and end me right then and there.

But that's not me. That's not how Veala works. Veala, me, is defiance personified - defying her traitor father, defying the butchers who wanted to exploit and murder those poor cows, and yes, defying death too.

So I stand. I clench my sword, and I scream. I scream and I scream and I run wildly, swinging at each and every shape that so much as crosses my blurry vision.

Because yeah, I'm gonna die. That possibility is all but certain now.

But I'm the motherfuckin' Cow Liberator. And I ain't goin' quietly.

veala attacks randomly and wildly; sword

1. marcus
2. marrow
3. delta
4. blue

GCLRpkiy721-4

sword

not with a bang, but with a 3.5

1-4·sword

[ryan]

There isnt much here for him at this point. marcus can feel the pressure of everyone looking at him. like his next move is going to make a difference in this fight. he is in pain, completely devoid of the fact that the only way he is going to make it home is if he does what he needs to do. he needs to kill. he needs to show someone that he is willing to do it. the boy from six has helped him, proven himself to be an ally in all of this craziness.

he is trying to make sense of this, and he feels like everyone else is too. that is the scary part of all of this. everyone is trying to prove that they are able to do exactly what marcus is as well. is this what marco meant? that one day he would understand what it was like to risk it all.

marcus hated every single thing about this.

he just wanted to survive.

he has to think about this judiciously. he can already tell that everyone is tired. he is too. the girl from five is blinded by rage. its his time. he charges.

he strikes.

[D10M marcus emberstatt attacks D5F Veala | sword]


zLdBk3FNR6sword
[10]

sword

[4m dagger thane 🗡jay]

In a blur, she went from quietly striking to wildly swinging her sword like a lock on her rib cage had been broken and an untamed beast had let loose to being, well, dead.

I wasn't upset at her demise, she had been burrowing under my skin, poking my own beast. But rather, I was upset that it wasn't by my blade that she fell. The cameras were watching, everyone was watching as the girl I had inched to the line marking death was cut down before me.

Dark eyes tear from the gushing crimson spewing from her one-armed body, meeting the eyes of her killer. My lips curl into a snarl, and my eyebrows furrow. "You know, I would say that was nice," I snap, raising my bloodied sword over my head, "but that one was mine."

And my sword falls like a guillotine, fast and merciless. His death would be the pin drop that makes everyone turn their heads and stare.

marrow attacks marcus | sword

2GW2ph2It|sword

[ 3.5 ]

sword

[Deleted]

Permish to filler bc Harlan craves blud
Omg she like fucking DIED! Good job blue eyes wowow
Imagine if I randomized rolls too lol x
Sorry tall dark and beautiful u gotta lay off my man

If my formatting breaks no it didn’t

[attacks marrow mommy]
vvkRYb88ob200+1000


200+1000

[nolan goode 10m / kaitlin.]

blue cameron.

I wasn't /      always named Blue    I wonder if that's a kind of Godhood, the ability to be two girls at the same time, uprooted plant,       once upon a time I got to /   resurrect myself     I decide who I want to bloom. my ancestors role in their      shallow graves.  it's easy to forget how to breathe — there's blood at the tip of my sword / my mother, lifting her thumb to the moon / something squelches / something screams / something is me, there is something possessing me; something touched me      &    swallowed me whole. blink blink / blink blink man made monster / monstrous girl. I'm trying to  can't you killed me softly? / his eyes wide, the reflection of the clouds, white drift across the sky / my stomach rumbles, and the clearing goes sideways / the vibration on the air when a gun goes off / the way something can rattle your teeth.     I'm no good at letting strangers write my story           good at being more than the skin I have  Indigo has always made me feel closest to be a god. what else is one without someone who believes in them? / she believe in me. she believes in me.            / we choose each other.  I have to go home.  It's me or them.               indigo wearing her leather jacket you're ready / a hole between me and that / man made monster / grand peace prize. let it not be i. let it not be i blue attacks marcus. GSuS0MslIasword 0

her

sword

[Benson Sharpe D3M [Tom]]

[tw: excessive gore/violence]

Red is all it can see; built to kill there's a faint smell of flesh and blood upon it's senses. Hairs prickling to the air as the insect-like creature sprawls with pincers ripping into bodies; mixing blood with gore and chittering in hunger. It hungers. It hungers so deeply that it's mouth drips with a venomous drool that's burning into the ground itself. Marking it's territory with the biological mess of it's own creation. Link can't help the scrunching of his brow at the sight as he moves the analog stick back once more.

Blood drips from it's pincers. Link directs another strike into the foliage of the wall as a warning, metal screeching against metal for a second as the creature lumbers slowly towards a single person. An arm rips from a body; blood dripping as lifeless eyes fill the girl from ten's face. His focus isn't there. No, his focus is on the one and only boy who's proven to be stronger than he'd anticipated, but disobedience couldn't be forgiven. Not in Link Vandergrift's eyes. Obedience is a virtue and these rebellious kids needed to learn their lesson. A grimace on his lips as he controls the beast to overwhelm the boy. Pincers extending out with the blood of the others dripping from it's metallic edges.

The venomous drool dripping over and over as he can see the hunger in it's eyes. The starvation tactic had worked. Obedience was given easily to Harlan and himself. Lips twitching at the thought of controlling more beasts like these for other uses. His head filled with new concepts. Gamemaker Godfrey would need to put in a good word for him. Easy enough. As the creature moves slowly, Link keeps his eyes focused on the feast and his hands moving the analog stick in multiple directions as he presses the buttons on the other side with another hand.

The first sign of distress is the creature's full height extending taller and taller. Bones breaking as metal extends out from it's underside as a screech two decibels too high echoes from the feast. The boy from Six seems to be looking for an exit, but the metallic horror's trapped the boy where it wants them. Pincers are the first thing to rip into flesh, blood dripping from wounds to slow the boy down. Venom is sprayed from it's mandibles, a spray against the boy and the plant walls behind him; sizzling burns bubbling from the life. Green rippling flesh as the skin melts from bone into the goop of what's left of Six's face. Link grimaces slightly as he feels a sense of pride.

The sound of crunching bone and ripping flesh as the metallic horror begins to feast on the boy from Six. Venomous spit mixing with blood and flesh, congealing the body of the boy as the Grief Eater continues to feast. Pincers attempting to push the boy further and further into it's mandibles. Until the sizzling of flesh is spit back up into chunks of blood and gore, the creature continues to feast once more. Blood and bones being left to it's meal as it resides in the corner devouring what's left of the boy from Six.

Link gives a disappointed sigh as speaks to Harlan with a sort of tense feeling. "That's not supposed to happen. Going to have to reevaluate this data." Dropping his controller back to the side, Link pulls out a tablet beginning to tap away at the electronic with many different thoughts running through his head. Eyes meeting the sizzling corpse of a boy from six who's nothing more than half eaten and mostly bones. His voice comes through once more. "Six is dead. Disappointing. He was intriguing." A shrug of his shoulders as he continues. "Unworthy of a crown though."

The creature continues to feast; mandibles spilling chunks across the ground. The calm eyes of Link Vandergrift accessing the damage of the feasts as he taps away. Data was important and this would bring about greater discoveries. Panem truly wouldn't be ready for what's to come. For now, a crown was needing to be made and Link had some work to do with the rest of the mutts that remained. Work never ended. Today, Panem learned obedience is expected. Those who rebel will continue to be crushed under Panem's boot.

Long live, Panem.

[The Grief Eater eats Delta Jackson]