Round Three: Eastern Fight (Blue v Luja v Amalthea)

[hesper hart 🐺 d9f]

Another day fades to night time in the maze, but even with food in some of their stomachs for the first time in almost a week the tributes do not feel any safer. They've seen the dangers lurking within the winding, twisting tunnels of the maze. They gave up trying to memorize their pathing ages ago, fingers desperately fumbling to unlock doors they don't even realize they've unlocked before.

Slowly, the tributes travel in a circle, ever working their way closer back to the middle, as if drawn by current or gravitational pull. All they know is nothing: the crowds can be heard and seen watching them as if they were characters, like their every thought and action has been pre-determined by some template. Like they are all made of glass, and capable of being seen right through.

Only six of them remain, though. Five deaths left to cycle through seems like such a daunting task at this point for Harlan, because the downside of showing the world the true capabilities of these kids is that now the world wants success for all of them. But the win only waits for one, and that has been true since before Harlan agreed to play this part.

When the sun crests back into the sky high enough to reach past the tip-top of the arena and the seating is back to being at full capacity for the third day in a row, Harlan's familiar voice croons into a microphone:

"We've come so far with our beloved tributes at this point, haven't we?"

There's an almost somber sense that washes over the crowd. They feel as though they've accomplished something in watching others do what they could never do. He's seen similar things happen to people watching his movies: it's always about convincing them it is their job well done, not your own. What does it matter that the six of them have killed to make it here when someone spent half his paycheck to be in the front row when it happened? How is it supposed to be Ullr and Delta's tragedy to have been eaten by such horrific beasts when the crowd had been dying to see the creatures make their debut since they were first teased?

"But there is more work to be done! Welcome to Day 3 of the Hunger Games, everyone!"

This time, the tributes don't even get an open area to fight in. Instead, they'll each find that they've been locked in a long, single path within the maze, either on the eastern or western edge of the arena. Any gates the tributes find will be locked and no keys will seem to work for them until they are the only survivors in their respective fights.

---

For this fight to conclude, 2 tributes deaths are required.

Participating (in order of initiative):
D8F: Amalthea Marrow - 94.14
D3F: Blue Cameron - 58.2
D7F: Luja Mahdavi - 14.4

Weapon: Sword

This fight will be using the 1v1v1 fighting system, meaning every tribute will attack both other tributes in the fight in every post. Attacks should be in order of initiative for the fight, from highest initiative to lowest.

Retro Engine Link: Here

As always, 24 hour posting rules are in effect and will be enforced.

This fight will conclude once the mandated death requirement has been met, and you will all have until Friday, 12th of May at 8 pm pst to finish them yourselves, or extra measures will be taken to finish the fight on time.

Tagging for notice: 4m dagger thane 🗡jay nolan goode 10m / kaitlin. Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie

[4m dagger thane 🗡jay]

In the midst of the maze, I dream of the boy with blue eyes.

Head leaning against the cold railing lining the hedge, leaves biting at the skin beneath my hair, and one hand loosely wrapped the hilt of the sword propped on my lap—I dream of him, of his death at my hands. And I rewind it over and over, becoming a broken record, but each time I watch the blade cut through the thin flesh of his throat and pierce the side of his neck, blood thick and languid around the steel, I turn more content. At least, for the moment.

It has satisfied my hunger more than the feast lingering in my stomach, it's fed the inky and festering hole that's burrowed its way through my heart. There was no denying its presence, no burying it under the guise of a performance and no shaking it off with a wicked quip and a shrug. I've become—I am something cruel.  And there is reason behind my bloodlust, but it's not the root of it.

I think it's always been there, stirring in a deep, dark void, a snake stalking its prey before swallowing it whole. It's why I've always felt ravenous, even since birth, starving for something more. For everything. I've always wanted the world to bend at every crick of my fingertips. It just needed a sin greater than swiping tiny trinkets from stalls to ignite.

Strangely, I welcome it.

A few days ago, as I taunted the little boy from home, grinning as I buried my sword through his stomach, I rejected it. Told myself that my cruelty was simply a product of my position, that it was all for the show. For the pictorial future I'd always envisioned. But now, I wield it like a second sword.

---

The lock clicks as the gate shuts behind me.

I know what it means. It's quite obvious, isn't it? Luring us through the maze, locking gates to isolate areas they want us to avoid, or to force us on a certain path, herding us into each other like sheep to a slaughter.

Under the low rumble of the crowd, I hear the faintest of footsteps. It's time, again, for my blade to meet skin.

I drop the point end of the sword to the ground, holding only by the hilt, I drag it behind my walking body. I want the grating sound of the sword scraping against the ground to become something hair-raising, as if their executioner around the corner. My presence is one that should be known, that should be feared.

Turning around the bend, faces materialize into view.  Two faces, one familiar, one not. I fought beside the one girl yesterday, but today is a new dawn.

"Let's make this quick, shall we?"

marrow attacks blue | sword

9ry1T5I8ossword

[ 1130 -- Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage ]



marrow attacks luja | sword

sword

[ 1027 -- Deep Gash on Left Bicep -- 8.0 damage ]

sword·sword

[nolan goode 10m / kaitlin.]

blue cameron.

she gets off on /   what went wrong? / my big sister, two hands on my cheeks, running her hands over my hair, patting it down.     hands over on my shoulders,     the body something weighed down.     the body as an anchor / the body as a cage.  running through the maze / centripetal / centrifugal     I am trying to put the safety on    but instead I just keep running into more questions refracting resistance — it won't stop demanding more from me, this awful place.  when am I going to be something death doesn't want.  gravity keeps pulling me, tugging me down, keeping me here /     I think about Cal. I think about his glassy eyes.  —glass shattering on the ground —I wish I could see him again.     but there's a beast around every corner,  I pause. There's a trigger held against my chest, I will myself ready to fire. unpause, keep running /     gravity gives way to a language, to a face — let's make this quick, shall we?.  there's a / dream / I used to think about running around the whole world. not just Panem. girl becomes one with the Hawks flying above the huddled masses, girl sees every cloud that has ever hung over the universe, girl who knows what the wind tastes like at the edge of the world. no one cares what shadows follow you around when you're running towards the light.      I have waited for  so long               my dreams are set aside on      a small table in Benzo's kitchen, slicked on Indigo's jagged nails, stolen slick she's probably leaving bottles of on my chair because there's no room on my work table left to put anything.  have to get home to clean that off / how come it's easier to think about consequences when I'm about to die? blue attacks marrow. KPn11C6Cjfsword 3.5 I'd like to imagine / I'm not already like her catastrophe girl, calamity girl, tear down your cage girl, I see them all in one, and then in the other, —there is something in the eyes of a girl ready to choose a hell of her own making.     I'm not sure how much hope there is for me. "Aw shit, did we get off on the wrong foot?" / hyena / my laughter is an echo chamber / trigger pulled.       hands on my shoulders / gravity, Benzo's smile, can't you kill me softly? / I want to choose where I'm going / I need somewhere to land.  instead, blood slicks across the ground (again) & I vow to only unmake myself.  blue attacks luja. sword 0.0

 

sword·sword

[Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie]

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

Day 3, goddamn its Harlan, you really are a cruel bastard.

Before it was not even a day, you went in an out of the arena in a day. We had to spend 2 nights already in maze running in circles, but there really was not point. The only wait out of the labyrinth of agony was the death of another. I killed one and assisted in the death of 2 others. There was still blood to spill till I was going anywhere.

Every minute I could feel my mind slip more and more, if I possessed any bit of sanity when I came into the games it was gone now. I was giving into the madness of the maze, my sense of reality warped and twisted like the paths I wandered without any purpose but to stay alive. My blade has become my best friend and only trusted partner. The blood of those who died before intertwined with mine on my body to form my war paint. All sense of the spectators ever so eagerly watching as the next of us died faded into the background. They did not deserve a seat to the show that was the fabulous life of Luja Mahdavi.

Madness ruled in my brown eyes as the gates locked me into a narrow path with two girls, how many of us were there fucking left? One dragged her sword along the ground in an attempt to intimidate us but all I could do was laugh at her. She did not scare me, neither of them did. Fear was for the weak and I was anything but weak. Who the fuck did she think she was, a god? There were only demons left in this arena.

”Bonjour motherfuckers” a shrill voice echoed from my vocal cords. I licked the tip on my blade giving myself a taste of the blood that I was about to spill. These bitches were going to die, and I was going to bath in their blood.

A feeling in my gut told me that this was going to be the fight I have wanted the entire time. The pain from the girl who treated the maze like a runway’s blade burned into my arm fueling my need for blood. My mad laughter replaced a scream as she attacked me. Blood streaming down my arm as I lifted it to attack back but instead ended up dodging an attack from the less theatrical of the two.

”Impressive.” irony was my second language. I batted my eyes at girl number two as I spit blood and saliva onto the ground before the feet of my opponents. Readjusting my grip on my sword I slowly moved around my opponents in the manner of slow dance every girl wishes for with the boy she had a consuming crush on.

”Where is the fun in a quick kill? Let’s take our time and have a blast, ladies!”

Give ‘em hell, Luja.

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

Table credits to rave <3
Lyrics: Little girl gone by chinchilla

[Luja attacks Marrow; Sword]
g1s8FIWggWsword
[3.5]

[Luja attacks Blue; Sword]
sword
[4.0]

sword·sword

[4m dagger thane 🗡jay]

Faded scars and clotted wounds encase my arms, and the blades of both girls hollow two new stripes into my skin. It's like the steel is magnetized toward that area.

The pain is needle-sharp, quick but not fleeting. I grind my teeth, irritated by aching shock. But then, I smirk, nonchalantly shrugging it off. I won't let them hear me keen, let it sink into their skin that I'm stronger. And maybe I'm not, maybe they'll impale me on their sword in a moment, but I won't let them know. I'll wear the scars upon my skin like a trophy.

The taller of the girls has a bite to her voice, it's familiar. Like the dark-haired girl I almost cut down at the feast, a sharp-edged tongue with a penchant for striking back. I roll my eyes and blow a bubble into my cheek, maybe I just don't like the ones that talk like me. I don't want any competition for the crowd's favor.

She spits a glob of crimson blood and saliva onto the ground, and I take that a little personally. Her claws have sunk into my skin, anchoring in.

"You just aren't a priority, babe," I speak with a cool and cursory tone, "My sword is itching for someone else—a boy with blue eyes, a patchy beard, and looks like a lost pup."

I'll try and plunge my claws in her too, tear the skin from the bone and get her where it'll truly hurt.

"But don't fret, I'll happily make you a casualty instead."

marrow attacks blue | sword

|pg5EH_Chasword

[ 1126 -- Shallow Cut on Left Shoulder -- 3.5 damage ]



marrow attacks luja | sword

sword

[ 1041 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage ]

sword·sword

[nolan goode 10m / kaitlin.]

blue cameron.

there's a rushing in my ears / wind on a rooftop, two girls and a group of friends leaping from edge to edge.     the ground coming up to meet them, a dare—    but sometimes gravity doesn't get the best of you.                                  there's nothing that tastes like freedom feels. there's a rushing in my ears / clouds collected in a valley, vortex whirling, two girls with swords standing in front of me.     they've got blood on their smiles /     gravity sucks on our souls, same as ever,     monotonous, expected— I'll happily make you a casualty instead. / girl unmakes herself / girl laughs like she's a god,                 they both do / remind me of Indigo in that way, the fight in their bones before they ever knew there was a fight to be had.     / girl becomes everything everyone thought this place could make her / does that make her ordinary? / does that make her extraordinary?  ordinary / inordinary / impressive,                                                     yes the three of us make quite the impression.   —mirror shards, three girls stand together in a room and want to kill each other. this is nothing new.  there's a rushing in my ears / blood in my bones, the body readying itself when it has nothing left to give.       hunger rots in my belly like a dead fish, its stink seeping into everything / feels like my body is scaling over, eating itself up.  maybe there's maggots there / waiting to grow. blue attacks marrow. CcDgTCZZ1Hsword 9.0 on stomach blue eyes, I remember him / the one from Six called him that, too /       I remember trying to kill him,                             I remember her trying, too— I remember not caring if he deserved it.  "You two talk like you just want a show,"           dancing / gravity keeps us near each other, objects in motion that don't know how to stop.            "You're such nasty Capitol killing puppets, lets see it!" blue attacks luja. sword 9.0 on forehead

 

sword·sword

[Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie]

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

The eccentric one talks about a boy with blue puppy dog eyes. Marcus. The boy from ten that gave me my only meal. Things did really heat up quickly there, what did he do to make this girl want to see him dead so badly. We sadly never got that far in our impromptu dinner date. I cock my head to the side and bite my lip, ”I know the boy you talk about!” a small flick of my tongue before I continue, ”He really did know how to treat a girl.” for a second all my anger was gone, and my disturbing laughter turned into an innocent giggle.

A small flicker reminiscing the fun we had before the smaller of the two just had to go and spread some negativity. She wasn’t any fun.

I did not want a show, I wanted a game filled with spectacles. The blue-eyed girl could have not been any more wrong. None of this was for the capitol, it was all for my own amusement. All I ever wanted in life was to be able to play with girls just like me and I finally found them. The three of us were all experienced killers dancing around each other drawing blood from our bodies. The only promise we could make was death.

”Does she remind you of anyone, Lu?” Kaiden broke his silence. For a second I was able to forget my dead twin, but he found a way to reemerge in the form of another female tribute. Her accusations might have as well been those of Kaiden’s. He was quick to call me my mother’s pawn and here she was belittling my existence to a throw away piece in the game of chess.

”If I killed you then I can kill her too” I snarled towards my brother, waving my sword around frantically. I was no fucking pawn; I was a goddamn queen. There was no one controlling me, there was no force that could even come close to my hunger for power. I wanted to see both of them beg for mercy. Beg me to kill them, I wanted that rush of adrenaline to breath life back into me. I wanted their lives in my hands.

The girl who promised me my death missed. The other left a nasty gash on my forehead that was tricking down fresh blood. It dripped over my eyes like a red teardrop. The only tear that I would offer the spectators of the game. Big girls don’t fucking cry and we don’t complain. ”Oh please do kill me.” My entire face an over exaggerated pout to match the over-the-top tone of my sarcasm. I turn to the one accusing us of being pawns,”You are just like my pathetic brother, think you are so much better than us? You wouldn’t be here if you were, gorgeous.” I explained to her in a hysterical high pitched voice with my eyes wide with insanity.

"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 Marrow; Sword]
UlCgsJ2dx|sword
[4.5]

[Luja attacks Blue; Sword]
sword
[8.0]

sword·sword

[4m dagger thane 🗡jay]

A flicker of recognition ripples over her dark eyes, it's a telling cue. So, she does know him. Or does she want me to believe that? Her head cocks to the side, sharp canines biting down on her lip. A tongue-in-cheek look plays about her face, an animated giggle breaking the silence. Intoxicated by glee, she speaks, her words are needles meant to prod into my skin until I shatter at her feet.

But, I am not glass. My core may overheat, liquid metal churning in my stomach, hell spilling from my tongue, but I will not come undone. Violence is my culmination.

The other girl juts in, her soft, child-like voice a medley to ours. A shadow in the fight, she steps into the light, and her sword swings, piercing my stomach. "Fuck," I breathe, but it comes out a gargle, like something's stuck in my throat. I press a hand to the wound, slick with blood, the ivory fabric sticking to my skin.

Her blade might've stung, but her words rang true. The other's bloodlust might be self-indulgent, but in here, my cruelty and dramatics go hand-in-hand. There's a reason behind the performance. And it's not the heart of my spite, but they're cogs spinning in my machinery.

I do want to please the Capitol, to serve blood and ripped tendons on a platter in turn for them cheering my name. Marrow. It's about the endgame, about becoming something more than a victor.

"It's not hard being better than you. Small, little girl that's fucked up in the head? Doesn't take much."

I might be a mirror to her, but at least I know there's something wrong with me.

marrow attacks blue | sword

J_d5ADDuLWsword

[ 1033 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage ]



marrow attacks luja | sword

sword

[ 1033 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage ]

sword·sword

[nolan goode 10m / kaitlin.]

blue cameron.

feels like / bliss    like / that moment where something fits just rights, shredded cable that     only carries current  /  at specific angles, / broken things that only work when you add the right pieces, they split me open, but                                / that makes sense.  if I killed you / there's nothing there / a ghost, who doesn't mean / anything      to me. /                    I can kill her, too. gravity as —chains  / my mouth tastes like    / nothing        something in the pit of my belly goes numb, / summer & eating bitter dandelion / feels like I could step    into the sky /              afternoon sun beating down on everything. the light     touches everything.  blue attacks marrow. MOtcjMG0Bysword 3.5 leg       she coaxes  / blood from my body                       one, and then the other, and I am sure I won't make it through this whole.  little girl / snarl, taste knives in my mouth,       I am the amalgamation of everything everyone has ever taught me,  / always been scared that's all there is.  half child /      half apology,  & my rot is as hungry as I am.  "You're pathetic," / petulant,   projection— she thinks she's better than me. It stings; they remind me of Indigo; fragments of her, / puzzle pieces that fit where they don't belong. "You like this slaughterhouse." I choke / on longing I wish wasn't familiar / hunger like an old friend, hunger like love.                meanness in my belly / another organ;  meaty & dark / rotten streak,     there's something to be said / for demanding                                            the world             take you as you are.  blue attacks luja.         sword 8.0 leg

 

sword·sword

[Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie]

A small little girl that’s fucked up in the head. That is what the eccentric one calls me. So, what I was small, does not mean I am little. My voice was loud, and my presence never went unnoticed. I was not timid, nor meek, when I walked into a room people noticed me. Yes, I was fucked up in the head, there was no need to tell me that. Almost every word she spoke carried truth, but where she lied was that it was not hard being better than me. There’s just about nothing that can tear a girl down when she is riding the wave of a god complex.

Despite the strikes and bites of my fellow bitches, I was not going to let them get to me. It did not matter how much I bled, how worn out I was. They could not break someone who was already shattered. My mind made of a million pieces held together by the ghost of my brother and the small tastes of blood I was granted every once in a while. My body held together by the lack of structure in my mind. If the mind felt no pain, then neither did the body.

I kept my body straight and a smile on my face. Tip number two out of the Luja Mahdavi’s ultimate guide to survival. Never give two shits about anyone else or their opinions. Who fucking cared if the blue-eyed one thought I was a monster? Who cared if the eccentric one that she was better than me. Honestly no one, no one in this world cared for three girls from the districts trying to survive. Maybe one of us will get out of here, and then what? Disappear into the districts? Fuck no. The beauty of not caring is the ultimate freedom to do what you want.

”Ding Ding Ding” I perked up laughing hysterically through the blood and sweat. ”I do enjoy this slaughterhouse hon! ” I warm up my blade for its next strike, teetering back and forth. ”Life ain’t giving you shit, and we all know that only one of us is making it out. So have fun with it. Enjoy it. Stop being such a killjoy!”

Despite the adrenaline keeping me going, I knew there was only so far, my humanoid body could push. I may not make it out of here alive, but if I go down then they best believe that they are coming with me.

[Luja attacks Marrow; Sword]
KzR2qgr1vesword
[8]

[Luja attacks Blue; Sword]
sword
[8]

sword·sword

[4m dagger thane 🗡jay]

We toe the line between survival and death.

You can smell on the wind, the copper is static in the air. A hush has rippled over the rumbling crowd, they sit at the edge of their seats, waiting for the first person to fall. You can see it too, crimson staining our ivory clothes and leaking down every inch of skin. Death lurks in the shadows looming on the ground.

I hunch over, taking a ragged breath as I throw the palm of my hand out to catch myself on the hedge. The razor-sharp leaves rip into the thin skin. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. It's too close for comfort, the outcome. I can feel my odds slipping through my blood-slick fingers.

And one after the other, their blades sink into me, my flesh moving around the steel like they were made to be there. I can't make out their words over the heart beat drumming in my hears, it's so loud. I mirror the cavalier girl and spit out a glob of blood and saliva at my feet.

"Fuck this," I push up from the hedge, loosely wrapping my hand around the sword. My balance is unsteady, my vision blurs, but I don't stop. I swing wildly, my limbs thrown about the narrow corridor. And somewhere in the blur, I scream loudly and savagely.

marrow attacks blue | sword

sATZk|hs4ssword

[ 1154 -- Severed Head -- 40 damage ]



marrow attacks luja | sword

sword

[ 1158 -- Stabbed in Eye -- 40 damage ]

sword·sword