bells on the wind / sick & belcher, post bb.

[gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.]

they call me a menace,
they say that i’m cursed.



felicity carrow,
district three.

Leaving Sick behind fucking hurts. Literally. The second I step over the threshold and slam the back door to the cabin closed, the tred on my boots fails me and I go ass over tea kettle. The blow to my elbow catches the right spot and sends shockwaves through the whole rest of my body. A gasp rips through my chest, sharp and painful as tears well in my eyes instinctively. All my limbs point in opposite directions, and I stumble trying to get back up, a pathetic creature trying to find her balance on the ice. I end up just sliding down the rest of the steps on my ass, which soaks the heavy denim and my tights. Shivers collects on my spine, L1 to S5 suddenly ice cubes beneath my skin. Winters in Six could be rough, but they had nothing on this. Waiting for Lionel to run out of that blood soaked cabin agonizes the senses, my brain running through different scenarios over and over. They get worse and worse with every second, images of Lionel limp over a banister railing, impaled by whatever he fell on. That one makes me shiver for altogether unfamiliar reasons. I can't wait much longer after that, but I come back. Maybe I even come back for him. It takes some searching, but the snow thins out along the edges of the wood and I find I'm able to loop around the perimeter of the cabin without running into too many of my fellow tributes. Most of the faces I see flashes behind the broken glass belong to careers, entitled brats. Of course they lay claim to the cornucopia. But then there he is, hobbling away. Lionel Estrada, in the flesh and blood, and I wince when I realize the awkward kilter to his stride. "Sick," I hiss through the mist, pausing behind a dead, mishapen tree with gnarled branches for a moment to get his attention."Over here." I bite the inside corner of my lip as I watch him begin to limp over, finding myself unable to properly look him over. There's something awful about the angles to his lower half that makes my skin start to crawl, and I decide to go to him rather than continue watching him try to walk. Behind me, something rustles amongst the branches, but when I whip my head to look, nothing's there. "Could've told me you're a masochist," the words are thick in my throat now that the adrenaline is starting to settle, making my skin start to itch under all the layers. The tips of my fingers are unbearably cold. "Don't tell me you really thought you could take those two." But then there's that rustling again, I'd swear it, and this time when I turn to look I search, really search amongst the wisps of cold fog on the ground. Whatever is hiding there better show itself soon, or I'm pulling out that dart gun, aiming it blindly, and firing.

and if love is real, maybe i’m just too bad
to remember how good it feels.


felicity stumbles upon a potential familiar.

M0ujxlFSuI1-22

1-22

[k!ah]

 
lionel estrada

"Sick," a familiar name, voice, pushes through the constant waves of agony that pulse through my body. Through my leg, my stomach, my face. Spitting blood onto the snow I force myself to look up from where I was sprawled onto the ice cold ground, peering through mist to see Felicity face peeking out from behind a tree trunk. She calls me over and I fight off a groan as I force myself onto my unsteady feet, and ungracefully stumble in the snow like a one of the many drunk business men I had seen parting my fathers house after a successful business transaction.

It takes me longer than is should have to reach her hiding spot, but when I do I slump against it, this time unable to bite back the ground that is shoves passed my lips with a sharp exhale of breath. Blinking, I stare up at her, scanning her for injuries. I don't notice any injuries, though I do note the way her cheeks have turn a beautiful shade of pink against her pale skin in an attempt to fight off the cold. It was cute. I smile at her, well- attempt to smile, but the movement causes a fresh wave of pain to shoot across my face and my smile turns into a grimace.

"Could've told me you're a masochist."

A rough chuckle escapes my lips and this time I cannot fight off the grin that pulls back my lips causing my face to feel as though it had been set on fire. "Ah, Belcher, my dear, I like to keep you on your toes. What fun would it be if I gave away all my secrets so quickly?" I wink at her, or maybe I just blink, it's hard to tell when my face feels as stiff as the frozen trees that surround us.

"I-" A fresh wave of agony bursts through my leg, the left side of my body as I slightly adjusted my position. Panting through clenched teeth I curse under my breath, one hand pressed protectively against my hip and the other against the snow covered earth to keep me somewhat upright.

Suddenly Felicity is whirling around, her weapon aimed she doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger and for a moment I can say nothing as I watch her, but then I blink and say slowly, "Yeah, look, a minor miss calculation on my part. Though did you know that Pretty Boy Lucky has a thing for spitting on people?" I manage to say through clenched teeth, as I remove my hand from my leg and gesture towards the mess across my chest. I neglect to mention that I spat at him first, though I am pretty sure my disgusting act was a little more justified than Lucky's. Or that is what I will tell myself until my dying breath. "Got a little handsy as he smeared it across my chest like a creep."

[ familiar roll ]
xC0MK7uQHc1-11

1-11