a waltz about our bodies / marce + hal + váli [ day 1 ]

[andromache s. ⚔️ [d1b] sucy]

The trees on one side of them, clustered together and covered in snow, are nothing like Marceline has ever seen. When she regroups with Hal and Váli, they seem, despite their unfamiliarity, like their best bet for cover. But wouldn’t others be thinking the same thing? On the other side, there are bare trees, spiky, uncanny imitators next to the fairytale snow canopies across from them. That’s the way they head initially; towards branches that look more like icicles.

The adrenaline from the begins to peter out as they come to a stop. Marceline immediately falls onto her hands and knees, head swimming, limbs shaking under the pressure to keep herself up. Blood drips from the open wound on her face onto the snow, stinging hot in the frozen air. Her leg burns too, burns colder than the snow. But she’s alive. Oh god, she’s alive. Marceline squeezes her eyes closed tight, and first sees the faces of her successful assailants – Two girl, and… the girl from Eleven. Then, she sees a dismantled, caved in mess of a head on the cabin floor, blonde hair matted with blood. Azure. A brain she’d admired from afar in the training center, rendered lifeless by Marceline’s hands. How had it even happened? She’d only meant to get past her, to get her out of the way. Her eyes creak open, too hot under her closed lids, and Marceline sits back on her heels. She looks at the bag slung across her body, at the blood that stains it. Is it hers? Is it Azure’s? She can’t tell. She doubles over again, the contents of her stomach lurches up her throat and joins the blood on the ground. Empty now. There’s something calming about expelling it all. She shivers. A tear slips into the gash on her cheek.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marceline spots something that looks like… an ear? Still on her knees, she shuffles closer. She isn’t hungry, not with the taste of everything she’s eaten for the last twenty-four hours still in her mouth, but having extra food was never a bad thing. Disappointment awaits, however. It’s not a dead animal; it’s a headband? A headband with floppy hare ears. Marceline bites back a laugh. Thanks, Gamemakers. Against her better judgment, Marceline slides the headband over her hat. Everything about this is absurd, why draw the line there? She’s a murderer. She’s a murderer with a hare-band. Marceline rubs a hand over the intact side of her face, clearing away the tears.

She stands up shakily on her good leg. Reality nearly immediately smacks her off her feet again. The wound in her leg is nothing compared to Váli’s. The injury on her leg is near incomprehensible to Marceline. It’s so deep, so thorough; can her foot hold on? Hal is in significantly better shape than either of them are. Marceline peers at him through narrowed eyes, admittedly bothered by it. While Váli’s foot holds on for dear life, while Marceline picks blonde hair off her wooly tights, he’s fine. Stupid, she thinks to herself, nobody’s fine as long as they’re in here.

"Váli," she says, gently lowering herself to take a closer look at the injury. "What… what can we do for you?"

Marceline doesn’t want to look too closely at her wound for too long. After all, it’s just gore to her. She looks away, pushes herself back into standing and scans the area around them. She finds some mushrooms and some goodberries (is that the name?) that she recognises from the brief time she spent with Xov at the Plants station. She tucks the mushrooms into her bag and greedily swallows the berries for herself, after a moment’s hesitation, before she turns back to her allies.

"Surely… in Seven, don’t accidents like this happen all the time?" she looks between them, ignoring the pulsing hurt in her own body in favour of dealing with Váli’s foot. Kids got trapped in and injured by factory machinery all the time in Eight, but Marceline was never, ever close to those incidents. She always hung back, away from the panic – here, that’s not a choice.

table credit to napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. !


actions will be posted in tribute maintanence.


title ref.

[d9 kristof parks {ems}]

Leaving the bloodbath wasn't ideal, but Hal didn't want to stand alone as his allies all fled. He doesn't blame them - Vali needed help, yet it makes him look and feel weak. Ivan had told him he's a character in the show. I'm proving him right by acting a coward. It sits heavily on his mind, and everywhere he turns it makes him realize just how bad being a coward is. He takes a breath and runs down the stairs only to watch his feet fly above his head. "Fuck!" He groans as the small of his back hits one of the stairs sending chills up and down his spine, and the pressure causes his teeth to clinch together. Yeah, I really look like a fool now. Whoever turned the air conditioner on should really turn it back off.

Running his hands together, he realizes how cold it is, and his mind is racing as he tries figuring out what to do. It's impossible to know or understand, and the uniform isn't offering much protection from the icy cold creeping through his veins. It's a winter wonderland, yet it's a nightmare, and Hal wants to run away and pretend everything is okay, but while he's here, nothing is ever okay. It's a broken reality trapped in a nightmare every tribute is dreaming. Someone has already died, and it's terribly disturbing. This game, it's cruel, but people always fight instead of giving up and surrendering. All it would take is everyone banding together - maybe we all would die.

At least I wouldn't be alone.

Death is terrifying, it's something he never thought of until being place in this castle of glass, yet now Hal can't take his mind off of it. Dying, it's scary, it hurts, people suffer - I can't do this to my family. But maybe it happens, maybe his cannon sounds, everyone in the Capitol would cheer while my family cries. Why try to fight against what's going to happen? Why ruin the moment, let everyone celebrate? I live to ruin the fun. People don't care about him, and Hal wants to prove people wrong, to make their lives miserable. It would be fun, to laugh in their faces, to constantly remind them of the pain of their favorites dying. But nobody deserves to die. It's a crappy hand.

"Marceline, are you okay?"

It's something he shouldn't ask because the moment he looks down, Hal sees the problem, and he's doubled over retching on the ground nearby. Everything in his stomach uses the eject button, and the muscles in his face hurts worse than he ever imagined.

"I am so sorry."

He moves away trying to wipe his face, but his entire body is quivering.

Maybe Ivan was right.

He turns to Vali and tries to do what he can to comfort her, and then for the first time, he looks into Marceline's eyes.

"Marceline, what's up with your eyes?"

And he turns back to Vali as he shakes his head.

"If there's anything I can do, please let me know."

They've been through a lot, and the games have only just begun.

Credit to Pogue <3

Familiar roll
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1-15

[Kingston Cesaire D3A [Tom]]

❦

They scatter like rats to the wind; almost drenched in sweat and blood. Vali can feel the pain in her foot echoing along her body with every single movement. The cabin turns to wood; the ever growing chill of wind echoing along walls. Vali clutched in Hal's grasp until he falls down the stairs; almost with a comical sound of a curse word. Vali follows a bit more carefully, on her own. There's death in the air as Marceline glistens with the only kill to a name. Blood soaks them all in different places. Vali's blood drying at her cheek and the splattering of it across the wooden floorboards. It's only once she's out of the cabin does she attempt to cover it with what's left of her pants to stop others from following them.

They scramble to the woods; beasts among the wind where the gods laugh and laugh above. Vali's hands wrapped around his sides as she stumbles quickly, but coordinately. She's not afraid of death nor of pain. The gods have always provided her with tests of her faith. Pulling at the edges of herself that fray for the gods. Allfather's laugh in her ears as she smiles to herself. It's a bit thrilling to see Lucky left behind; as if his eye will give him power unlike her own. A bit of jealousy settles in as she can remember the way Twelve's axe cut into her foot, barely keeping it on, but it's a useless ball of flesh essentially. There'll be retribution to pay. A gift of the gods to be set into place. Xov from Twelve will be the first sacrifice she makes to the gods. A gift of her resilience to be sent. A laugh leaves her throat before she comes to the edge of a forest.

Dead wood resembling the woods of seven after a big forest fire. There's a pause in their movements as Vali can see Hal and Marceline ahead of her. There's a silence in her form as she stumbles forward to take a moment to breath. Both of them look too pale. The wind seems to calm down for just a second as Marceline is the first to lurch over; there's a sound that makes her stare quietly back at them. Hal's voice makes her stop from speaking out. "Marceline, are you okay?" Except, he lurches at the same time and Vali can only sigh in a bit of bitter pride. Her eyes scanning the two of them as she speaks gently.

Oh c'mon, it's just blood." She's looking from one to the other as she rolls her eyes amusedly in a friendly banter sort of way. There's a pause, but she continues with her piercing blue eyes looking at Marceline. "If we weren't in danger back there, I would've blessed you with your first kill." Mimicking the set ways of plastering blood across the skin with her fingertips, she smiles down to Marceline for a moment. Hal's apology comes afterwards and Vali just chuckles with a heavy feeling as she leans against a tree where her weight is kept off of her foot. There's pain, but she's felt worse before. Many people in Seven have accidents where they end up with too much pain. The gods clearly wanted her to show her praise.

"Váli," Marceline gets closer; almost making Vali redden under someone else's view. There's a pleasant feeling in her eyes as she watches the other look at her wound. "What… what can we do for you?" Her eyes drift away as she watches her ally turn away from the wound. It's the violence at it's core in the form of an injured foot; there's a silence in her before Vali realizes she should speak up about it. Gently, she lifts herself up before speaking with the gentlest tone she can.

"We keep it clean. Watch it over the course of the next few days." The words of wounds she's seen before in Seven lingering in her mind. Her voice is clear as she darkens her eyes a bit. "I'll be able to fight still. Do not worry about my capabilities. This is just a test from the gods themselves." Except she's not confident in her words, there's a bit of a hesitation as she looks to the wound and back up. Marceline swallows down a thought before her voice gently caresses the air.

"Surely… in Seven, don’t accidents like this happen all the time?"

Vali nods. Voice caught in the chilled air as she can feel her bones freezing inwards. A chattering of teeth, but she speaks with confidence. "The lumbermen do. Some of my family have had similar injuries, but there's only temporary solutions. Most involving losing the limb. A gift to the gods. The weavers of fate weaved this sacrifice for me." Gently, her hand goes to check the wound over as she begins to sink against the dead tree. Hal catches her off guard when he speaks.

"Marceline, what's up with your eyes?" For a quick second, Vali could see the change. The coloration having changed with her. A small smile fills her lips as Vali leans back against the wood. The cold snow around her body as Vali looks up to watch them. There's a peace being closer to the earthen ground below. Her voice is soft as she speaks out loud. "The Jötunn." Giants in the tales of the old gods before; she stares with wide eyes and almost intrigue as she stares at Marceline for a moment. This girl must have the blood of the ancients within her. An interesting development.

"If there's anything I can do, please let me know." Vali sits there for a moment to catch her breath, her eyes looking between them before she relaxes again. They were safe for now. Her eyes look around them to the dead woods. Her heart hammering as she feels the chill of humanity in her skin. She's gotten out of there alive. Marceline's the only tribute with a kill. The Weavers of Fate have chosen her allies well. They will be the divine here. The ones to walk away in the end. Fingers claws through the snow before she speaks once more.

"We should look for supplies. The more we've got the better off we are. We're just mortals, we need to survive through the night. Others will be ready for blood soon enough." Getting back up, she leans against the woods as she looks to Marceline and Hal. "Thank you, Hal. For back there. You got me to safety. And thank you, Marceline for showing our strength. We're gonna be watched both inside of here and out of here, let's use that to our advantage." There's no living trees, but Vali feels more at home than before.

Like the gods themselves, she plans to be worshipped.

There was work to be done.