through the blight ☘️ (bad influence vs. mutts, day 2)

[gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

Lily feels Astrid’s darkness like a candle knows where the shadows are. She seeks it out. In her station, fluttering boundlessly with Nakoms, she hears the head gamemaker’s command to Maddox and decides to take over. Maddox has his hounds, sure, but her imaginations run wilder and fiercer.

They have more teeth.

“Let’s see who’s playing,” she whisper-giggles, dancing her fingers across the board to pick a group at random. Oh! “Little, little winners of the wealth, wandering through the woods,” she sings.

And a press of a button activates a secret portal in the hollow of a rotting tree, a shimmering space that glows brighter as sleek, graceful shapes trot out into being and neigh gently, a sound like silver bells ringing, a melody like old trees sighing. Their horns glint in what silvers of moonlight there are, their hides pearlescent, but as a wind picks up through the blighted woods, the scent of decay carrying from them betrays the beauty of what can be seen.

With a grin that curls to her ears, she motions her hand through a sensor. Gallop. They charge with their horns out, a verdant and almost divine picture as they glide past the rot. Once as they inch up to her little tributes, however, Lily’s grin becomes maniacal. She drops the illusions affixed onto each one and reveals—

Rot. Her favorite stage of decomposition.

ATTACKS CASPIAN,
Horn (Spear)

3141 -- Block -- 0.0 damage (Spear)

hSd5QCsIxpspear

ATTACKS TORIAN,
Horn (Spear)

3039 -- Shallow Cut on Back -- 4.0 damage (Spear)

spear

ATTACKS JAYSON,
Hooves (Spiked Blunt)

14111 -- MISS -- 0.0 damage (Spiked Blunt)

spiked blunt

ATTACKS ULYSSES,
Hooves (Spiked Blunt)

14096 -- MISS -- 0.0 damage (Spiked Blunt)

spiked blunt

spear·spear·spiked blunt·spiked blunt

[Tom]

Shadows cling to the roots of an unraveling landscape. Built upon the darkness where the light glowing is from above and below; a dance of heaven and magic almost drenching him in the colors of a world he never truly deserved to be in. Voices lingering along his skin; wrapped in sharpened wire cutting into his skin as if his skin were paper thin. A lingering throb of pain in his skin as he curls into the sapphire wings of a beast who's shown him the skies. Brave and strong; ever so beautiful. The place where no one could reach him, hair billowing in the breeze as he can stare down to the half cursed and half beautiful landscape. A desire to stay above and watch the sun disappear behind clouds fills his head, but there's no time for beauty.

The landing is softer than he'd imagined. Hearts twining together with an ease of a feather dropping to the earthen ground. His fingertips brushing feathers aside with the smallest of touches as the beast limbers closer; a purr in it's throat as if Caspian Einfallen doesn't break everything he touches. A lingering smattering of shattered emotions still burning across his chest; heavy with the smell of some sort of spice and something entirely too human. Pathetic. His mind provides him with as the memories of Six flood his brain with a tsunami of every possible stupid outcome in his head. What ifs lingering there as if he could grasp a new outcome than what's already been lived.

Before he can muster up his eyes, keep the hidden shadow beneath his irises, there's a voice. Pleasant in all the ways he wished he could have been. Warmer than he expected as his eyes seem to slide quickly to his ally's hairline, trying to not meet those pretty eyes. "I found something in the forest that might cheer you up!" Cheer him up? Could they all tell he's struggling? Confusion builds on his face, scrunching the lines already forming too fast for a boy his age on his forehead. A slight frown on his lips as he can see the vial of a liquid too colorful to be anything normal. The vial didn't look natural by any means. Was this a test? Was he going to prove how useless of an ally he really was? The slight moment of hesitation is enough to cause his voice to frail around the edges as he attempts to reply, confusedly.

"Uh... I-In the forest? Is it safe? Y-You... uh... wouldn't poison me right?" The words slip out almost last second, desperately worried that they've already seen how pathetic of a boy he can be. Poison would be the easiest way for them to get rid of him. Ripred, most people would probably poison him if they had the chance. The shakiness in his hands starts as he wraps his arms around his chest, trying to keep himself sturdy and pretending he's just like any other boy. No baggage. Just another boy with a strange past. Only, he's unable to feel his heart; instead there's the thrum of a million inner cringing thoughts barraging him over and over.

"I would never! Look. I'm a little messy and mischievous but I'm not gonna poison someone who's helping me out. Truly!" The words make him cringe internally; almost as if he's said the dumbest thing in the entire universe. Ripred, why couldn't he just swallow all of his words down before they came forth. Really? Ulysses wouldn't do that. Not when the guy could easily tear him apart with the weapons he carries. Red begins to blossom on his cheeks, almost embarrassed by the thought before he steels himself, staring to the vial and back to Ulysses. Voice filled with an awkwardness, breaking along the edges of his voice as he speaks.

"Okay. That makes sense..." The words hang heavy in the air as he let's his eyes wander down to the vial now in his own grasp, the color swirling with a calmness before he looks back to Ulysses. If it was poison, might as well die on his own terms. What was there to fear? He'd already hesitated once, he wasn't going to do so again. Lifting the vial to his lips, he downs the whole thing not even waiting for the taste. Only, he can tell it's empty when he feels the slide of liquid down his throat, gulping the last bit of it before wiping his mouth with he back of his hand. "Oh... that's really strange?" A sort of ease builds in his chest, bruises sort of fading into the brown shapes before fading completely away. The feeling is warm, but also cold at the same time. A sort of refreshing feeling as his tired eyes seem to lighten just slightly more.

The embarrassment is replaced by a significantly more kinder blush; red cheeks matching his heart thrumming. Someone cared about him in a small way. Ulysses had given him something that could've been better for him to keep, but for what reason. Did he owe him a favor? There's a sort of uneasiness to the feeling, but he's also always had a sort of romantic vision of the world when he wanted to. And right now, he couldn't help the feeling of someone just wanting to take care of him in a small way. Make sure he was okay. It's been too long since someone's cared so openly for him, so screw it. Screw all of the hatred still filling his head, he accepts the feeling as he speaks. "Thank you. I uhm... I appreciate it. A lot."

Almost as if the world wasn't off kilter, he can see Ulysses continuing to be well himself. Words spilling out with ease and not in the same way his own seem to become choppy in response. "Of course. You look pretty beat up all over, so I figured you might like it best!" Looking back down to his own legs, eyes facing down as he stares at the fading bruises still there. He can remember flashes of other bruises, purple and throbbing on his skin. Memories of fists and words heavy in the air. His eyes jump back up as his voice falters with a bit more of a comfortability.

"Yeah, some bruises here and there." Eyes dropping back to the bruises. Voice softer than before, almost desperate to speak them aloud, but just quiet enough that he's unsure of if Ulysses will hear them. "Not the worst I've had..." Memories of teenagers who want to push around a kid who didn't know why the world always was against him. Bruises lingering where his tears would stain them night after night. Questions shouted between cotton and linen until his heart ached with the fervor of a million broken pieces. What more was he meant to feel? His therapist told him it was normal to feel that way. The physical effects were not his fault, but ripred did he believe they were his own. Words failing to come forth to protect a boy like himself, instead he'd been alone, terrified, and beating himself up on his own without anyone else's help. Only, Ulysses' response breaks him from the millions of miles away he'd found himself.

"Well.. I hope it puts a smile on that pretty face of yours!" The blush burns hotly across his cheeks as he wants to hide away almost instantly. Boys aren't supposed to say things like that to him. Especially not attractive ones like Ulysses. Heart hammering in his chest as he stares flustered in every way at him. Words incoherently fumbling from his lips as if he could respond to him in some way. Despite his usual demeanor, there's a slight upcurl of his lips into a small smile. The strange way his lips attempt to form speech, until he finally manages to get two actual coherent words out.

"Y-You too!"

Idiot! Idiot! You are such an idiot, Caspian. Red hot, he almost turns away until he hears Ulysses laughing. Surely, it was at him. Surely, it wasn't with him. There's a moment where he watches him head off and all Caspian manages to do is lean into sapphire wings and hides his face. Words being whispered to himself from his own lips. "Geez Caspian. You really messed that one up." Only he can feel the beast in front of him curl deeper, trying to comfort him as he lets out a weak sort of sigh. "You too? Really? Doesn't even make sense with what you said Caspian. Oh man, I really am just ahhhhhh." Instead of lingering to his own embarrassment, he leans into the beast. Eyes closing as he lets his thought swirl like the impending storm of another gay panic.

Ripred, why couldn't he just be like the normal people? Surely, most people could handle this whole situation. As he lingers in the thoughts, he holds onto the vial's empty glass before relaxing against feathers, eyes stuck in the sky as he hears the anthem, knowing no one had died. Probably for the better. As he stares ahead, sleep never comes, but his head continues to drip with the millions of ways he's already fucked up this day and the many more he'll fuck up. Conversations he wishes to have filling his head, knowing none of the words will actually be said. People weren't that easy to read. At some point, sleep comes for only a handful of hours, until the sun begins to rise.

The morning is mundane for him. The exhaustion behind his irises is enough to show his pathetic night of too many thoughts and the lack of sleep that never comes. Groaning from the lack of a good sleeping area, his joints crack with the inevitable sound of poor sleep. His eyes glance around as he can still see the rotting roots. Packing up his stuff, he speaks gently to the others offering to lead. "I'll um... take the front today? If that's okay?" Waiting for a moment, he hesitates before taking position. Figuring it'd be easier for him to blend in since no one cares to take a second glance towards a boy like him.

The first thing he notices is the smell. Decay has always been a normal smell to be surrounded by in Six. Death seems to linger everywhere from what he's seen. Black tar grows on the trees here; almost a reminder of the shadows still lingering around him. There's a moment where the mist on the floor rises for a moment before sinking like a pulse of a wave; gently causing a shiver to run up his spine before he nods to everyone else. The blighted woods seem to be eerily comfortable for him, despite normally hating the smell of decay and being surrounded by the dead.

Hooves are the first thing he hears. The neighs of horses ring in his ears as his eyes notice the beautiful pearlescent hides of these beasts. A horn large and pointed completely above its head. In a majestic beauty, he stares for a moment as they approach. Was it a trap? Were the gamemakers rewarding their bravery? Only when it's too late does he notices the illusion fade; decay burning through his senses as he looks towards them. Somewhere beneath him, he can see an unnatural strange moment; a flicker of something darker as he almost wants to yell, but is unable to. Instead, he looks up and speaks loudly, trying to warn of the strike on them.

"Not friendly! Not friendly! C-Careful!" The jagged sword he'd been given coming up with an ease as he swings up against the decayed sharp horn. His voice almost amplified for a second as if his voice had grown stronger overnight. Moving out of the way, he can see blood. Smell it in the air as he turns to see Torian. His voice falters as he pulls the sword up high. He'd hesitated stepping off because of him. He's not going to make Torian's words not matter. Useless or not, Caspian wanted to be someone better than himself. Prove he's worth the time. Maybe boys like Ulysses or Jayson would look his way if he could.

Maybe there would be a chance for some sort of happiness before death if only he could be useful to them. Words dripping from his lips as he swears his shadow moves on it's own accord as he pushes back with a grinding of his own teeth. Rot against rot. Cold steel in his grasp, he could do this. Ripred, he could do this. Swinging forth, he keeps his eyes on the prize. Voice slightly filled with fervor as he goes.

"D-Don't touch them!"

The clash echoes in his ears.

Look at me, please...

[Caspian Einfallen attacks Blight Unicorn #1; Gloomblade (Sword)]
gVTGVeAUUVsword
(Deep Gash on Right Thigh 8.0 +1 for Gloomblade)

sword

[Python]

He was living a dream inside of a nightmare. This bejeweled gryphon was a creature of fairy tale, somehow made into reality by the Capitol's ever-advancing technology. The ethics of such experimentation was abandoned long ago, probably before Torian was born. It felt like their creations evolved every decade. Torian usually watched in mild disgust or faint curiosity - he never thought he would see one in person, let alone make acquaintance with it. Without question, it had approached him with an offering. A glass cloak with semi-reflective properties. It felt a bit heavy, but it seemed to camouflage him well, projecting the illusion of invisibility.

He thought the interaction would end there, but it allowed him to pet it and sit on it. The first time he took flight, he wrapped both arms around its neck and buried his face into a plume of feathers, yelling like he had never yelled before. It was jarring. Kids aren't supposed to fly, not like this. It was terribly unsafe.

It was also cool.

People dreamed of flying like this, and Torian could live that dream. He could pretend, for a moment, that this was worth the sacrifice of his life. The Capitol knew exactly how to show him the true joys of the world before ripping it all away from him.

When they set up camp, Torian spent his evening examining the weird trinkets he collected from the archway. He had the skull of a tiny bird tucked away in his pocket, and a small pouch of dead butterflies. He was fairly certain they were either convincingly fake replicas, or taxidermy. He could confirm it with a microscope, but for now he was limited to the naked eye and educated guessing.

He lost track of time. It was easy to immerse himself in science, it was the only solace he had to keep his mind busy and forget where he was for a moment. Ulysses interrupted him, bouncing onto a nearby tree stump and breaking his focus. "In typical reckless fashion, I think I might have snapped these two things apart earlier today." He held up what looked like necklaces, but Torian was hardly paying attention. He was still thinking about the properties of butterfly wings, the scales that create their unique patterns and the layers of chitin holding it all together. "What do you mean?"

"The pendants! The ones from the bloodbath. One's a sun, one's a moon."

Torian remembered that. It was one of the offerings from the gryphons, but they couldn't quite figure out what its purpose was. Now there were two of them? Symbolic, perhaps. Torian's brain took the literal route. "The star that warms our planet, and a rock that controls our tides. People usually use them more symbolically though...which one are you?" He figured Ulysses would keep one.

"I don't know! Both of them are like.. the oldest thing I've ever seen. The moon is a little more illuminating, though."

Torian opened his mouth to correct him. In no way could the moon be more illuminating than the sun - it was literally sunlight that allowed the moon to shine so brightly! He closed his mouth quickly when he realized how lame it was to say that. Who even cared? That wasn't the point, and nobody liked a know-it-all.

Ulysses handed him the sun pendant, and Torian cracked a half-smile. "Thanks, I like the sun more."

It reminded him of summer days spent in tree houses with his friends. It was rare he was able to get out of the house and enjoy such adventures.

He put the pendant on, hoping it would offer him some type of protection, and laid down to sleep. There would be no anthem tonight, only silence.

When they awoke, Torian was able to get a better idea of what they were in. He knew it was a forest, but there was an off-putting smell to it, and the trees were sticker than they should be. The viscosity didn't match that of tree sap, so Torian had been curious in the dark, and rather disturbed. Seeing it in the daylight made it worse. They were essentially in a rotting forest, and he wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

He heard the sound of rumbles and wondered if it was an earthquake. By the time he heard those rumbles fade into clops, Caspian was yelling and Torian felt a sharp sting in his back. "Ow! Very not friendly!" He turned around and found himself face to face with a - a unicorn? A rotting horse? Something carved of fairy tale nightmares.

He clumsily pulled out his sword. "Do you think we accidentally walked into their territory?!" Running sounded like a better option, but horses were fast, and those horns looked sharp. He could feel how sharp it was as blood trickled down his back.

Man, he didn't want to kill unicorns.

[attacks blighted unicorns - sword]
oNIHqVVvDPsword
Shallow Cut on Forehead -- 4.5 damage

sword

[MATTIO]

U L Y S S E S.

The first day is dedicated to a scavenger hunt. Everyone exhausted the entirety of their energy to the bloodbath, and it recent years, that has meant a quiet rest of the day. Now, what exactly is on the scavenger hunt list I'm not too sure. Whatever I can bring back to the group that they'll enjoy, I suppose. Some firewood, some plants I'd learned help heal cuts and absolve some of the pain.

After returning to the group, I dig into my pockets. What can I give to the rest of them to remember me by in case something goes terribly wrong? A few things are stashed away in the deep pockets of my trousers. A stash of pretty leaves I'd picked apart underneath the canopy– fuck, they're all squished up! Keep digging, keep digging.

Ah, right! The vial I'd found on the ground. I pull it out, the blue color still glowing fresh as it piles from side to side. I'd almost forgotten about it after getting so enthralled with the making of traps in the forest. Lucky for me, once my memory starts flowing again, things flood in. This was supposed to be a gift for poor bruised-up Caspian! As soon as he returns from his walk in the forest, I'm by his side, vile in hand.

"I found something in the forest that might cheer you up!" I give the vial a shake. It bubbles at the top like a carbonated drink or potion. Something is always off about Caspian, a mixture of a man who's seen too much and a boy who doesn't quite believe what he's seen. He looks at the vial, perplexed as I roll it between my thumb and pointer. "Is it safe? You wouldn't poison me, right?"

I scoff. "I would never!" There's a brief pause in my response. He's so timid and untrusting. I'm not sure my cheerful tone in such circumstances will make that any better. "Look. I'm a little messy and mischievous, but I'm not gonna poison someone who's helping me out. Truly!" If I wanted to sabotage him and the rest of the group, I could've taken all of the medical kits and run off before they could get any to bandage up their broken hearts. I toss the vial to Caspian, carelessly but well-intentioned. Cheeks as red as the grass we lie on, he downs the entire vial. Truthfully, I have no clue if it's poisonous or not, but I had a good gut feeling that it was safe. Attached by a string was a note that looked to be ripped off before I found it. It might've been a sponsor gift that a tribute out there had rejected.

I catch a quick smile from Caspian, followed by an expression of his gratitude. I shrug it off. Caspian explains that he has had worse that the injuries he sustained today. And he's still here, so I'm confident he won't leave us behind.

"Well… I hope it puts a smile on that pretty face of yours!"

"You too!"

Heh. Too cute. I laugh, faced away from now moving in the direction of Torian. Caspian is sweet, even if it's not intentional. He shouldn't be so hard on himself, especially now. He's a good guy.

I take a long jump to make it to the tree stump beside Torian. He's fidgeting with some of the trinkets from the bloodbath, tiny aviary skulls and baggies with gorgeous winged butterflies. I pull the next gift out of my pocket, the two pendants we'd found after the bloodbath. "In typical reckless fashion, I think I might have snapped these things apart earlier today." They were initially attached to each other on the platform, but after some fidgeting, they came apart.

"What do you mean?"

"The pendants! The ones from the bloodbath." I dangle them in front of Torian: the sun and moon, eclipsing each other as they sway back and forth like a pendulum. "One's the sun, one's the moon."

I'll be honest, half of Torian's science facts were new to me. He mentions that the sun is a star that warms the earth, which I totally knew, but the fact that the moon controls the tides is brand new information. "Huh." I say, more of a huff of processing than one of confusion. "Which one are you?"

Do I warm the earth or control the tides? Hmm. I respond a bit too quickly, knowing that Torian might feel awkward if I leave too much space out there. "I don't know! Both of them are like… the oldest things I've ever seen. The moon is a little more illuminating, though." His eyebrows jump up as if about to interject. Did I say something wrong? The moon is illuminating, is it n- fuck the sun literally lights up our earth. Oops. That went right over my head for a second!

Regardless of which I picked as my preference, I was going to give Torian the sun pendant either way. "Thanks, I like the sun more." It fits Torian most to be the light. He's a ball of sunshine, surrounded by too much darkness.

And I'd never admit it to Torian's face, as he'd refuse it, but another reason lurks deep within. I'm no scientist, but if I had to make a wager, I'd bet that the sun will outlast the moon.

I turn away, moving in Jayson's direction without a gift for him just yet. I empty my pockets for him. "Tomorrow, I'm going to get you the most badass present. Just you wait." Do I have any clue what that gift is going to be… no. But I'll have one. And he'll love it!

---

Being in the back end of the group, I spend more time watching our six o'clock than I do paying attention to what's happening in front. We move from a place of color and joy to one of darkness and rot. Each of the five senses flips like a switch from life to death. This is the Hunger Games, after all. What else should we expect?

I don't think much of it until Caspian makes a shout from the front of the line. "Not friendly! Not friendly. Careful!" The creatures dash past each of us, catching Torian on his backside. Caspian warns not to touch them, with both him and Torian using their swords to ensure some distance.

"Do you think we accidentally walked into their territory?"

I don't think it through fully. I pull in closer to one of the unicorns, unleashing the pair of knives I'd found hooked up in the Cornucopia. They're light but the blades look like they could do serious damage. I flip each of them in my hands for good luck before take my strikes.

"Not sure, Torian. I wonder if they know their territory is being used as a death ring– not by any choice of ours, may I add!"

[ ulysses attacks with his twin knives ]

[ Knife 1 ]
eHlHqsNjyjknife
[2160 -- Shallow Cut on Forehead -- 4.5 damage]

[ Knife 2 ]
knife
[2181 -- Shallow Cut on Left Hip -- 3.5 damage]

Table by Rave

knife·knife

[lance]

J A Y S O N

It'd almost be fun, you think, being here, if it wasn't for the whole brutal death thing.

Like, okay, you may have spent more time outside than in when it came to Eight, but there's really only so many places in a district full of factories and sketchy alleyways and smoke before you've really seen it all. Something something architects having no originality, maybe? You weren't sure. You've had many conversations with many different people about it, and it really summed up to what you imagined talking about the weather would be like in other districts - mindless drivel to pass the time before you got to the juicy bits.

But you weren't here to talk about Eight, you were here to talk about the arena - and talk about it you would.

Like how you'd slept up in a tree for the first time last night, which was both weird as fuck and cool as fuck (and okay, maybe allowed you a chance to watch the almost-flirting between Caspian and Ulysses, which, hello, was cute as fuck).

Or how when you'd wandered into the woods the next day, you'd never been surrounded by so much plant life in your life before (sure, it didn't hurt that half of the flower shops in Eight only sold fake plants, but you digress). Or, as it would turn out, by plant death, either.

You'd never even seen horses before except on documentaries about District Ten, and definitely never with horns. Were they natural, or a Gamemaker invention? Or was it simply a natural byproduct of the species being hor-

It's a damn mercy to both you and those around you that the beast attempts to stomp you before you finished that thought, you decide. Attempts being the operative word here - when you've spent years dodging the fists of vengeful exes, well, a horse is easy by comparison.

"Maybe that's why they're so riled up," you muse, cool as a cucumber as you scan your allies. "If Eight wasn't already such a shithole, I probably wouldn't appreciate my house straight up decaying around me for no apparent reason. And hey, punching people out is good therapy."

Your eyes flit one by one to the others. Caspian, fine. His ass? Extra fine. Ulysses? Unscathed. The way he tore through one of the horses with two knives? Strangely sexy. Torian?

Ah, shit. Torian was bloody. That couldn't be a good thing no matter whose it was. While it would be fun to just sit back and let your two clearly more capable allies take the reigns and enjoy the eye candy, someone has to take care of the kid. Even if he'd resent the very implication.

So you take your spear out, meander over so that you're standing right next to Torian, find the nearest horse, and stab out. All according to plan.

What is not according to plan is when the very wood hums under your fingers, filling you and the air alike with an electric energy that most ordinary spears definitely do not have the capabilities to do.

What the...

elegant

jayson attacks the unihorns; special wealth spear

PxuZ75fg4Fspear

3165 -- Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage

the spear also attempts to stun the mutts! how many does it immobilize?

1-4

4 attacks negated oop

spear·1-4

[gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

Her grin at the screen is a fox's, a conniving thing like Lily deems herself to be. Little rabbit on the surface, but underneath the demure smiles and bouts of quietness, she is all teeth. She hungers.

And what a lovely spread this is. Of course she's watched the victors of the bloodbath, poring over each one. They glint with treasures, dressed in spoils, all granted by her. What a generous person she is. Oh, well! Time for that is over. Grinning wider, Lily waves her hands through the sensor again, willing her rotten beauties to move- 

To move- To- "Why are they still?" she muses, tilting her head. Then, as her eyes land on the spear in Jayson Hope's grasp, the loudest groan escapes her. "Neat move," she says, begrudgingly leaning back.

Ten seconds. That was all the time the item afforded. "All of you little things better run ..." 

MUTTS ARE PARALYZED,
(4 attacks negated)

[Tom]

Did they stumble into their territory? It'd explain a lot. Keeping his eyes focused, he can only feel his grip on his sword ripping flesh. Wound heavy with his own blade strike; metal cutting into beast. There's a moment where he's certain he's going to be sick. The smell of death hanging in the air, but he's able to swallow the feeling. The hospital work had given him enough of a gut to bear through the smell of death. Only, he can feel his heart beating in his chest as he stares at these decaying creatures. There's a flash of comfort in them; a sort of feeling of similarity. Beauty with a sharp edge. Only, he bites the thought down as he looks to Torian, voice filled with confusion.

"Uh... I don't know! Are horses territorial?" He's never seen horses before. Ten had a lot of them, but he wasn't allowed to travel to any of the districts. What would a cleaning staff even do in another district? Though, his therapist once told him she almost recommended him going to a retreat there. Only, he didn't like the sound of the place. Probably a cult or something. Rumors had been spreading and he didn't quite want to be stuck in Ten. As he looks to Torian, he keeps his eyes on the prize. Only, there's a second where he can hear Jayson's voice.

Punching things out? Wasn't that what you weren't supposed to do? His therapist always told him violence wasn't really the answer and talking things out was a much healthier way of coping. Explaining your voice and trying to work together to come to a solution was healthier than getting physical. Taking space when needed and talking things out. Only, he's seen the ways his own therapist's words had failed. Bruises of his own for example. Nights spent bloody after taking a fist to the nose. Despite all of this, he can feel himself starting to understand why people get physical. The arena has been scary by many measures, but the ability to hurt someone the way he had been hurt was surprisingly freeing and also debilitating all the same.

"Uh... My therapist said that's not the healthiest method... Though, I think she might've been wrong." The words slip out in a shy voice until he can feel his cheeks turn pink. There's not much he can do about it. His thoughts linger on how dumb he must look. How obvious his emotions must be. There's a heavy feeling in the air as he can see the beasts moving. There's a moment where he looks to Jayson and then suddenly electricity shocks through the air. They stop for a moment, unmoving as confusion fills his eyes.

Was that normal? Were the mutts normally able to be stopped by electricity? Could they use this to their advantage? All he can do is speak excitedly to Jayson. Words filling in as he holds the last bit trying to come up with a word that's actually used in their day and age. He wanted to seem hip and cool, but really he always would sound like some loser from Six. Still, he didn't let it stop him. "OH! Huh, that's a great weapon. They're not moving? That's uh... dope Jayson!"

Taking the opportunity to strike, he swings his sword forward, blade extended out with the cold metal meant to rip flesh. Decay in his palms, he could use this opportunity to show himself better. He's not a loser. He could be cool. Even if his own head didn't agree, he'd fight to look good in their eyes. Torian, Ulysses, and Jayson were all cool in their own ways, but he'd been kind of lame in comparison.

Really? You're going to take a chance?

Caspian takes the chance.

[Caspian Einfallen attacks Blight Unicorn #1; Gloomblade (Sword)]
NS3mqsi20isword
(Shallow Cut on Femur 3.5)

sword

[Python]

Torian didn't know what he was doing. He ended up aiming for its head, scratching a bit of the blighted rot. The blood was an unnatural color, and made his stomach churn. Ulysses brought up an interesting point - was this their natural habitat that the Capitol built the arena around, or did they spend years creating this and then plopped the hybrid creatures into it? On TV, the mutts always behaved like they were angry and territorial, but was that because they were engineered that way, or truly confused by the invasion of human life?

"Uh...I don't know, are horses territorial?"

He took a moment to think, watching Jayson stick his spear into their hides. His brain was like a book flipping its own pages until it found the needed information. Usually he had a quicker response, but the situation was overstimulating. It felt like he didn't have enough time for anything.

"No, they're not! But these don't look like normal horses!"

Rotted, riddled with ooze, they looked miserable. There was no telling how messed up their genetics were. Anything could be territorial if you reprogrammed it over and over again.

An electric buzz erupted from Jayson's weapon. Odd, Torian didn't remember seeing wires in there? Yet when it connected with each unicorn, their muscles tensed and they seemed to still for a moment, as if their bodies could no longer receive signals from their brains.

"Woah, how did you do that?"

He thought of running, but noticed that his teammates hadn't withdrawn their weapons or turned in the other direction. Had they forgotten that fleeing was an option? In every Games he watched, the tributes always stayed and fought for their lives, and he never understood why. Was it fight dominating flight? Was it a warm-up before fighting actual people?

I'm glad they're not people.

Admittedly, it was easier, and he didn't like that.

[attacks blighted unicorns - sword]
mYJXI6Rzl0sword
miss

accuracy
sword
Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage

sword·sword

[MATTIO]

U L Y S S E S.

"I probably wouldn't appreciate my house straight up decaying around me for no apparent reason." Fair enough, Jayson. Fairy tale creatures that we might once have described with beauty and grace feel as though they've disintegrated. Along with them, their environment. His spear sparks with a yellowish-white light, and while his spear barely grazes one of their legs, that electricity bounces from one to the next.

Caspian is the first to make an observation about their stillness. Mutts are often mechanical, even if they bleed the same way as any of us humans, and the electricity must have exploited those controls. The science of how mutts work is still unknown to me, even if I did eavesdrop on a training session talking about mutt psychology and social tendencies.

"Woah, how did you do that?" Leave it to Torian Vice to take a breath to express his fascination. The rot on the horses' bodies sustains long enough for Caspian and him to chip away at the mutts again. Me? I take the opportunity to slide the pair of knives down to the straps of my boots, in exchange for a long sword, my face in its reflection. If Jayson had electrocuted the mutts as it appears, I don't want to get close enough to touch them and get shocked myself.

(Is that how electricity spreads? …I'm not too sure, and I don't have the time to fumble through another science question with Torian.)

I nod to Jayson. "Looks like you've got an electric touch there, bud."

"Their territory or not, I'd rather be fighting these things than being sitting ducks for tributes to pick on." Part of me wishes there'd be tributes to fight on our way, just to dwindle the numbers. The other part of me knows that I should be grateful because I'm not ready to lose the boys just yet.

I swing my sword at the one who'd hurt Torian. That's the only one who has proved it's a threat thus far. But even then, as the yellow energy trickles toward the ground, I have a feeling their weak first impression will be met with a determined second try.

[ ulysses attacks with his mirrored sword ]

3bCmN5y0YMsword
[ 1181 -- Stabbed in Chest -- 9.5 damage ]

Table by Rave

sword

[lance]

J A Y S O N

It's almost like you've stopped time. Something in your spear resonated with the chakras that the mutts were aligned with or something and just, like, shorted them out or something. Fascinating.

Having a breather in the midst of a duel to the death wasn't exactly what one would consider standard, but since when did you abide by anything resembling normal, anyways?

"Uh... My therapist said that's not the healthiest method..." Caspian pipes up and pulls you out of your wonderment, and you turn to find him averting your gaze. "Though, I think she might've been wrong."

His cheeks are pink. Fascinating. You could have a lot of fun with that later.

"What, you're telling me you've never socked someone who's pissed you off in the jaw before, Caspian?" You grin a lopsided grin. "We've gotta change that before the Games are over. Find the most annoying shit you can think of amongst the other tributes, and just clobber them with a good ol' knuckle sandwich. Best feeling ever." You pause, then smirk deviously. "Tell you what - I'll even let you practice on me once this whole thing is over."

Torian chooses that moment to speak up next - and okay, you've grown to like the kid, but damn, read the room or something - asking about how you managed to stun the mutts. Ulysses, of course, decides to intercede then and there, with a good old corny line of-

"Looks like you've got an electric touch there, bud."

And you snort, because okay, sue you, you've always had a soft spot for corny. "Wanna come over here and see for yourself?" you tease back, comfortable in the safety that for now, you're safe from actually testing it out yourself. Caspian might be timid and fun to mess and fluster with - but Ulysses is a whole different game himself, matching you tit for tat in terms of intensity, and that's the sort of thing that should be saved for when there aren't undead horny- sorry, horned - horses trying to murder your collective adopted teenager.

Speaking of collective adopted teenager. "Jokes aside, I have no fucking idea," you say, because that was the truth. One second you were ready to stab a horse to death, and the next, you paralyzed it instead. "Lemme try it again."

You emulate your thrusting motion (with the weapon, perverts) once more, aiming towards the horse that - well, the horse that Ulysses just impaled with his fancy new sword. Unsurprisingly, due to either your shock or the lack of a threat, nothing happens.

"Or," you decide as the rest of the beasts begin to move again. "We can do this the old fashioned way."

There's no current running through the wood as you lash out this time. But that's okay - tricks can only be repeated so many times before they lose their luster anyway, and there's no point in becoming a, heh, one trick pony this early in the Games.

elegant

jayson attacks the unihorns; special wealth spear (for realz this time)

VGM8JQcx3_spear

3110 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage

spear

[gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

Work filler.

ATTACKS CASPIAN,
Horn (Spear)

3137 -- Deep Gash on Left Calf -- 8.0 damage (Spear)

NmHaxAuj_uspear

ATTACKS TORIAN,
Horn (Spear)

3156 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage (Spear)

spear

ATTACKS JAYSON,
Hooves (Spiked Blunt)

14177 -- CRUSHED SKULL -- 40 damage 10 damage (Spiked Blunt)

spiked blunt

ATTACKS ULYSSES,
Hooves (Spiked Blunt)

14053 -- BROKEN RIGHT ARM -- 6.5 damage (Spiked Blunt)

spiked blunt

spear·spear·spiked blunt·spiked blunt

[Tom]

Not territorial. That's definitely strange. Did the Capitol build around them or make them? He really didn't have time to be fascinated by the Capitol's work trying to kill them. Heart pumping in his throat as he can feel the sword between his grip, shifting with his movements, almost as if he's carrying a shadow between his own grasp, but the handle feels springy like the mushrooms back home; growing in the concrete sides where the grass and moisture stick hotly to the hospital walls. There's a tension in the air as he can feel the ripping of flesh between his palms; tearing beasts he's never seen quite well. Strange beautiful creatures having rotted to this decay of a being.

God, he really could use never having to see a creature like this. The decay makes him feel nauseous, but at home in the same moment. Almost an unnatural reaction as he can remember the cleaning supplies at the hospitals. The amount of blood and other liquids he'd have to clean in rooms he had to make sterile by the time he'd be done. There's no time for memories as he can hear Jayson Hope's rigid voice ringing along his ears. The words filling him with a pink flush of something pretty. The panic in his heart pacing with the adrenaline panic of a fight.

"What, you're telling me you've never socked someone who's pissed you off in the jaw before, Caspian?" Not even looking Jayson's way, he avoids his eyes as he remembers the way he'd always yell, plead, and flee. Fight or Flight, he tends to fly. Feet taking him as far as he can go. A shake of his head is what he gives as the flush forms into a slight embarrassment, but he doesn't stop. "We've gotta change that before the Games are over. Find the most annoying shit you can think of amongst the other tributes, and just clobber them with a good ol' knuckle sandwich. Best feeling ever." There's a charge to the words; something akin to a twang of his own heart. A pang of panic, but also intrigue. The people he's sided with are much cooler than he'll ever be. None of them needed him. So why was he still here? Why take him when they've got so much more to give. He'll not fit in eventually. They'll realize how much of a loser he is at some point. Ditch him in the decaying ground and never look back. He has to keep reminding himself of this. Only, the next words make him flush fully red, confused at his own reaction.

"Tell you what - I'll even let you practice on me once this whole thing is over."

The voice hangs in the air for a second, charged by the devious look on Jayson's eyes. Unable to help himself, Caspian lets his eyes drift down to his lips for a second before looking away as quick as possible. Words on his tongue sort of fumbling with the feeling. "Uh. Oh. Uhm. Yeah... sure. We can uh p-practice that." Mentally he's screaming; filled with all the anxiety of a boy who's too attracted to the ideas in his head. Rough hands and heavy voices; they were a lot. Instead of backing down, he knew he had to try and at least seem capable. His own voice is wrecked from his own heartbeat and the fighting, but he speaks all the same.

"A-And I could show you the slower side..."

Dumb. Dumb boy. His own head provides as he moves back, noticing the way his heart thrums. There's too much going on. The beasts are starting to move again after that shock. Holding up the blade in his hands, he feels the pressure coming on. A sort of rush of emotions as he can hear Jayson trying the weapon again. His eyes focus back to the beasts moving as he watches his group strike once more. The blood on his own weapon is enough to make Caspian feel sick. Was he even capable enough to show them how useful he was? Caspian knew one of these days he'd be left behind. It was only a matter of time.

Alone. It's all he'll ever be. No one likes a boy who's got nothing going for him. A loser like himself. Only, he hears the beasts moving. His eyes losing track of the beasts as they charge once more. Blood is the first thing he can see. The pain is the second feeling that comes across. Only, his eyes don't focus on his own wound. Instead he watches one of them rip Jayson apart; Hooves crashing forward as blood flows. There's a panic is his heart as he feels his hands tighten on his sword. Let him be okay. Ripred, let him be fucking okay. Rushing over, he doesn't even think twice. His voice is enough to rip through the air as he swings the strange blade forward into the beast striking Jayson.

"Fuck! Stay back, Beast!" His words sting a little in the air as his leg burns with the blood dripping down. Metal gleams in the air as he speaks out loud. "Quite the wound, seems like you like it rough."

Dumb. So fucking dumb, Caspian.

[Caspian Einfallen attacks Blight Unicorn; Gloomblade (Sword)]
e2L8CtsEX_sword
(Shallow Cut 3.5)

sword

[Python]

Between genetically-engineered monsters and tributes, Torian wished neither was an option. He wished he could pick a clever hiding spot, camoflauge himself, and wait for the final four to gather. As Ulysses said, they didn't want to be sitting ducks, but Torian wished there was a way to cheat the system. Unfortunately, cameras everywhere allowed the Gamemakers to see their every move, and they wouldn't allow anyone to simply skirt by. He briefly wondered if these creatures had been purposely sent here by one of them, or if they just happened to be here on their own.

He didn't want to fight mutts or tributes, but he would have to face the reality of both soon enough. Lucky for him, he had brave men at his side, and one of those men was Jayson. Jayson, who described socking someone in the jaw as a satisfying feeling. That had red flags written all over it, but Torian felt nothing but admiration. He was living a wilder life (maybe a little too wild), and that was something Torian had always craved back home.

The Hunger Games was not the adventure he had in mind. He had been thinking more about riding his bike, building tree houses, getting into a little trouble, getting into at least one fight - those were things that kids did! He hadn't planned on becoming a permanent troublemaker or a criminal. Just a kid who made mistakes, enjoyed them, and learned from it. With how Torian lived, there hadn't been any room to make mistakes, and now he felt like he was missing the edge Jayson had. That was only going to hurt him here

He decided to be quiet and stop making himself sound lame. It didn't matter if the horses were territorial, and it didn't matter how Jayson managed to stun them. The focus right now was getting rid of them before they turned his friends (or himself) into a kebab. It was working for the beasts so far - he could see blood on Jayson's head and Caspian's leg, and he could've sworn he heard a bone snap. Scary stuff.

[attacks blighted unicorns - sword]
RnwmI8izDZsword
Shallow Cut on Forehead -- 4.5 damage

sword

[MATTIO]

U L Y S S E S.

"Wanna come over here and see for yourself?" A chuckle slips out without warning. It sure is nice to have someone around who can match my sense of humor, however, rotted it may be. I believe Jayson and I might have three brain cells—one to Jayson for his creativity with the spear, and then one to each of us for the jokes we make. Whether it takes one strike or a million, we're pushing these horses back or getting rid of them entirely. The electric glow from Jayson's spear fades and the hooves and horns rise to cluster us again.

They blast through Caspian and Torian head-first before raising their legs to stomp on Jayson and me. The horse makes contact at my shoulder, a leap that doesn't subside as it gallops through the air. It's the string in my coat that sends my arm twisting back. You see, I pick at everything with my fingernails. Acne, facial hair that evaded me after the first rinse, and loose threads on clothing. One of the threads must have stuck to the hoove. The horse winds my arm and sends it straight to the catcher. Strike!

"Fucking motherfucker hell spawned in my F-ha-ha-hock!" Harbinger wasn't joking when he said that mutts hurt twice as much as tributes. I didn't know what to expect from mutts, no one ever does when they enter the arena. You can prepare to fathom a gash from a knife or a bruise from a blunt, but you can't anticipate a hoove latching onto you and playing the worst game of twister you've ever seen.

It hurts, okay! And you'd be crying like a baby too if it happened to you! I take a moment to grab my shoulder, hoping it's not broken. Or worse, detached.

"Quite the wound, seems like you like it rough."

The poorly delivered joke distracts me. Caspian to Jayson. Red covers the top of Jayson's head. Okay. It would be funnier when we're patching him up and getting out of here! Maybe try again later, Caspian. It might deliver more than just the stunned expression on my face.

My eyes take a peak in Torian's direction. He's still good, fighting, even if he may not want to at all. "Let's just get this– ow– shit over with– ow."

I do as I say.

[ ulysses attacks with his mirrored sword ]

PBdLkCHjvisword
[ 1042 -- Shallow Cut on Right Hip -- 3.5 damage ]

Table by Rave

sword

[lance]

J A Y S O N

ow my head

elegant

jayson attacks the unihorns; special wealth spear

EsLtd|XQEIspear

3189 -- Deep Gash on Cheek -- 8.5 damage

spear