bruised not broken {cool kids corner - day 1}

[august vance d7b [Bella]]

X O V thao

There were little things she couldn’t have prepared herself to see, not in the furthest stretch of her imagination. The sound of bones crushing, the screaming, the sound of the cannon. The way steam oozed from a hot and bloody wound in the dry, cold air. The acrid smell of insides coming out.

Xov had never been so glad to hear her own heart beating. Never so convinced someone was really watching over her from a distance. Her ancestors, or some guardian spirit, if such beings dared to tread here. There was no other way to explain how she was still alive after all that. Even the movements of her hands felt like they had come from somewhere else—a backhanded punch breaking someone’s leg, a slash of her pike sending a fountain of blood from the girl from Seven. Thinking back on it was like viewing herself from the outside, possessed by something beyond her comprehension.

Wind biting her knuckles through the cotton, her hands still clutched Juno’s arm, his knee contorted at an angle that made her stomach turn. Her hold on him was more automatic than actually helpful—he had managed to prop himself up with his pike, using it as a cane to distribute his weight. So courteous, this Juno was. The place where his body weighed lightly on her side was a welcome vestige of warmth. She didn’t want to push him, but every inch of distance they put between themselves and the other tributes felt insufficient.

Like she’d done this morning, Xov made a mental list of the positives. They were still alive. They were together. Even though J was bent and bruised, his knee could maybe be braced. And, though dirt- and blood-stained, the thin fibers of white thread were still wrapped around their wrists, holding their souls intact.

Still, she couldn’t help feeling something was fishy. Juno was easily the more capable fighter, but he’d been badly hurt while she escaped almost entirely unscathed, save for the slice of her cheek Lionel had rudely taken. It didn’t sit right with her bad luck streak, and she wondered it that meant misfortune would soon turn its gaze her way.

Although maybe it had nothing to do with her luck—just Lionel being a total asshole. Xov made a mental note to send his knee pointing backwards if she ever came face to face with him again. Not a bone in her body reveled in others’ pain, but she knew when justice was owed, and that boy had it coming to him.

She needed to focus. The work wasn’t done yet. Hanging around this creepy lodge made her nervous, but they needed to find supplies to do something about J’s wounds.

When they turned a corner that seemed safe enough, Xov’s footsteps slowed to a stop. She stood back to get a good look at Juno’s injury, her eyebrows furrowing with concern as she wished she had found him sooner, so that maybe this senseless attack could have been avoided.

”J,” she began, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get there before he did this to you. That—that prick!” An arsenal of curse words lay dormant under her tongue, itching to be let loose, but she reminded herself her parents were watching.

What had she expected from that boy from Five? Kindness? Decency, maybe? Xov knew she had to get a grip on this new reality—speaking to someone face to face, seeing them as flawed and kind of embarrassing and human, meant nothing after the gong rang. Lionel was just another reminder that no one could be trusted here.

A little voice in the back of her head reminded her this could apply to Juno. Maybe he was hearing that little voice too. But she shook it away like it was the tiniest, most inconsequential thing, a fly landing on a horse. She had already made up her mind about trusting him. Caring for him right now was what anchored her to the present.

”How do you feel? Maybe we should try to brace it with something? Just… tell me what I can do to help.” Palms turned upward, her eyes scanned the ground for anything that might be useful.

[actions in maintenance]

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

He follows with hesitance. Like a child who hides behind their mother, shy, and uncomfortable with the scenario. Being a child was so much nicer than what he had to do here. He wished he had the protection, the agency of a mother to set up play dates for him and make his friends for him. Like the duo from 12, who he stalked like a wolf, but hid like a turtle. Nothing guarantees a place within the duo, but there’s a silent hope. Like a flicker of light, or sun, in this cold, frigid landscape of an arena. In their shadow, he considered peace offerings. But what offers does he have to give if it’s not a bag or his weapon?

Currently, the two hopeful allies sit behind a corner. They had left the lodge just barely and were on the wraparound porch. Unfortunately for him, the time he spent observing the duo was quickly interrupted by his footing losing itself, where he slides and slips like a newborn doe onto his back. He grunts, and if his fall wasn’t a signal of his presence, the animalistic exhale did the trick just fine. The boy scrambles, trying to quickly gain his footing (which continues to fail, given the icy stairs). ”I-!” his voice rampant, shaking, confused, it seemed about as stable as his footing. ”I’m not-” his free hand, the one without the spear, reaches to the fence to stabilize himself for a second. ”I don’t want to-” pause, breathing, catching his breath (Rocko once told him that if he took some time breathing, he’d control his anxiety).

Okay.

”I don’t want to hurt you, I, uh, don’t have anyone.” He shrugs, a bit embarrassed of the way he has to admit vulnerability to anyone. ”I have this parka?” The boy shuffles through his bag and holds up the neon coat. ”If that’s anything, uh,” he takes a few steps to the side to get off of the clearly icy porch. ”I don’t know. I can leave, if you don’t want me…” he’s used to being dead weight to the group, so he wouldn’t be offended if they said otherwise. He hoped his previous kindness toward Xov in the training center meant something. Marcellus wasn’t all too familiar with Juno, but he’s sure the other Twelve tribute is also cool.

This would just be easier if he didn’t survive the bloodbath, wouldn’t it? He doesn’t like this feeling. Not on his knees literally, but figuratively, he was hoping for a chance. Like he’s bearing his stomach like a cat to a dog. It wouldn’t hurt to lose the parka anyway. It takes a lot to make the boy feel genuinely chilly, even if his body isn’t meant to be in such cold temperatures.

ELEGANT

[familiar roll]
bGRxo0kLEB“1-6”

“1-6”

[Python]

j u n o
b r i m s t o n e.

To begin the day with a fall from grace was not promising. Juno had mistakenly assumed he would either die, or meet up with Xov sporting wounds or bruises. The concept of a broken knee hadn't occurred to him. The thought of spending the rest of his time with this ailment filled him with dread. How was he supposed to defend himself now? How was he supposed to help Xov? He was slowing her down, making pathetic distance between themselves and the tributes who were out for blood. If they chose to hunt Juno, he would have no methods of escape. He would have to ask Xov to leave him.

He had to lower his expectations. Big time.

He winced as he shifted the weight off of his knee. It was contorted at a disturbingly painful angle. Not his first broken bone, but the cold air struck it like needles, exacerbating the pain. Xov apologized for failing to come to his rescue sooner. He should've told her not to worry, that saving herself was not something to regret, but all he could manage was a groan.

"Any chance we could just snap it back into place?" He said, humor sliding past the sweat around his lips. There was no way they could fix an injury like this, and they both knew it. There was nothing in the immediate area that could brace it, but - "If we can find some bandages, maybe."

He would suggest searching this lodge first. They wouldn't be the only ones here, but if they were one of the first to raid the rooms, they could find something before the others did. Before he could make such a suggestion, he jumped at the sound of noise. Someone falling. His head whipped around, and his first instinct was to brace himself.

He recognized Marcellus. A boy on the ground, no weapon raised, scrambling to fix himself. Juno relaxed. "Hold on, let's back up a little," he said, trying to stand tall despite his horrible injury. He didn't want to trust just anyone he ran into, but Marcellus was someone he had hoped to find a kinship with. They had to have something in common, being lower district citizens and all. "Did anyone follow you here?"

familiar roll
B8kg85_pPb1-5”

1-5”