eyes- sorry, eye- on the prize { lionel v lucky day 8 }

[mat]

The scrapes, cuts, and gashes across his body burned. It was pain that encompassed him, but Lucky convinced himself that it was pleasure that cocked the grin on his lips. He forced that to be the reason. The thought of enjoying this was wedged somewhere in his heart, pumped into his bloodstream, and coursed through his veins.

It was what he wanted. What he signed up for, volunteering to prove just how good he was. Shove for shove, blow for blow against a boy from District Five made him question if he was over-ambitious. Where he went wrong and where Lionel went right. It wasn't the way it should have been.

"Friends? You think that insulting my lack of friends hurts me?"

It should, he thought. Growing to be an old wench of a victor sounded like no fun. Lionel spun him as Lucky struck, rolling on the ground before scrambling upright to get away. He huffed hot air, limping behind the boy. This fight was to the death, they were in that deep.

"You are delusional if you think that this is ending with me dead. Open your eyes," Lucky's head bent, unamused. "Sorry– eye. You're losing." It was true, his bones ached, and the relentlessness within them pushed Lucky to take on a fight where he stood at a clear disadvantage. But he couldn't give in. Let Lionel win? And run away scared? He'd rather die a fool– or a clown, as Lionel put it.

This was all an act, anyway. What kind of closure could either of them get from one of them just walking away? Lucky sighed, feet dragging against the forest floor. Tree to tree.

"We're long overdue for a villain to win the Games, Lionel." Lucky scratched his jawline. It seared with heat as the words left him. He couldn't remember a classic villain winning the Games, certainly not in his lifetime. "I don't think the fans back home will care what shape or size he comes in. They just love to hate."

Mr. Ivan, Gunner, Xov, Juno, Harley, Lionel. Lucky learned the concept of 'loving to be hated' from them. Or adapted well enough to embrace. Whatever helped him sleep peacefully at night.

"Come on. Stop me." He threatened and pleaded at the same time. Axe raised, Lucky closed the space between him and Lionel and swung.

If no one stopped him, what would Lucky Nachtnebel become?

[ lucky attacks lionel ; pike (axe) ]
zUxSWSoN_Yaxe
[ 11018 -- Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage ]

axe

[k!ah]

We were both breathing hard by this point. Skin littered with lacerations that seeped blood. One of the thin cuts of Lucky's neck was still bleeding, and I watched as the blood slipped down the column of his neck before disappearing into the collar of his shirt. How much more could either of us take? I knew that I didn't have much more in me. Behind me I heard Mouse whimper a moment before a growl tore through his throat and he snarled at Lucky as his blade once again ripped open my flesh and sapped at my limited energy supply.

"Stay out of this Mouse," I hiss as I throw the Fowl a warning look. Mouse had managed to stay quiet throughout this whole encounter, keeping his distance because I he knew that this was my fight. This fight had been mine from the moment I stepped out of that cabin back on day one. Lucky's death was mine, his down fall belonged to me, and Mouse knew that. And I was ready to take it.

I wanted to use my fists. I wanted to feel his flesh against mine as his bones broke beneath each of my strikes. I wanted to shatter his nones. To snap his leg. To spit on his corpse and to leave him broken and bloodied in the dirt. Just like he had done to me. Except there would be no second chances, and he would not get back up, I could not give him that chance.

No more deals. No more promises. Just him dead, his smug, handsome face broken and my fist aching from the blows.

"We're long overdue for a villain to win the Games, Lionel. I don't think the fans back home will care what shape or size he comes in. They just love to hate," he says and I can see that wildfire that I had coaxed out of him flash in his eyes as he truely believed that he could fill that role. He wanted it, he needed it. Even if it wasn't the pathway he would have chosen for himself I knew that he would take it if it meant him surviving. But he would be miserable, and his days would be filled with his need for redemption.

"Come on. Stop me." Lucky demands, almost begs as he moves towards me, his axe swinging and his eyes burning with the challenge. He swings low and I grunt with effort as I catch his arm, my fingers pressing hard into one of the many wounds that covered his body. I dig them in deeper, stopping his attack, his blade slicing way too close to my groin.

I look down between us, an exasperated sigh on my lips as I groan. "Why do people have the sudden obsession to cut my dick off," I grumble as I shove his arm, and consequently, his blade away from me. But I dont release my grip on his arm as I look up at him and spit blood onto the dirt beside us, wiping a hand over my mouth. "You're right, stud. I think it is time for a villain to take the crown."

I step in closer, fingers pressing harder into his wound, digging and twisting, desperate to see him flinch with pain. "But it won't be you. It was never going to be you, and do you know why?" I ask, my voice dropping so that it could only be heard by the two of us.

"Because you are nothing.

You are weak.

A fucking disappointment to your district and most definitely to yourself."

The words felt like ash on my tongue. Words that had taunted me for as long as I could remember. Words that were branded against my skin, invisible to the eye, but scar that would forever taunt me.

"Well, this was fun!" I say with a cruel twisted smile, words that he had tossed at me as he threw to onto the snow with a punch to the gut. "But lets not do this again, right, bud?"

lionel attacks lucky

MQWZN9CS2xsword
cute lil miss hehe

accuracy
sword
3.5

sword·sword