[inside] is >not> a HEART; [templar v. snowin]

[shrimp]

All the colors of the rainbow
Hidden 'neath my skin.

[/i][/right]They had walked in this direction for a while. Storm and Heron were up front, while Anastasia "elected" to bring up the rear, watching their backs. Well, by elected she meant "I should walk behind because I have a crappy foot", but she assumed that they knew what she was trying to convey without actually having to say it. The fact that she simply couldn't fight to the best of her ability made her feel very unaccomplished, like she didn't even deserve to be alive at this point, like the 5 who had died yesterday.

She hadn't known all of them - she knew Enigma and Phoenix well enough, and she had stood over Azulon's corpse, but she hadn't noticed Kaia or Damon that much, which sort of scared her. True, she knew their names, but that was it. She hadn't noticed much of their training, and she hadn't even known how they died (she did hear some boom right before the gong, but had quickly forgotten about it - perhaps one of them had stepped off of their plate too early?) It was strange though, how someone could die that day, right near you, and you wouldn't even know who they were. They had family, and friends. Maybe even a significant other who would all be heartbroken at this point. They might have thought that they could do it, and now they were dead, Day 1, just like Eliza.

Why had she been in that dream anyways? The fact that she dreamed of her deceased older sister simply confused her. What, had she simply been imagining her because she had also been in the games? Their time in the arena had been completely different - for starters, her sister was back stabbed, killed in the bloodbath, while Ana was here, on Day 2. Not much of an improvement, but it still was one, regardless of how much longer her heart had been pumping. Anastasia was as good as dead anyways - a broken foot never really enabled someone to actually fight, or run away, or do much. Already she labored to even limp behind her comrades, sweat trailing down her skin from the heat and from the strain that her broken bones were being forced to endure.

They seemed to be going up a steep slope, and she trailed behind them, trying to put as little pressure on her foot as possible. There were no branches to use as a walking stick; she only had her own body to use, attempting to put as much weight on her good foot as possible. Pain still shot up every time the appendage brushed against the ground though, so she was well behind her colleagues when she finally noticed where they actually were. Eyes widened slightly as she looked upwards at the plume of gray smoke drifting upwards from the summit. Volcano.

The word was old and obsolete - one of those words that the people of District 1 simply learned in order to recognize their surroundings in the Games. It was rather scary though; she remembered that volcanoes would spurt out melted rock that could easily dissolve your skin and bones in a matter of seconds, sending you plummeting into the rest of the hot rock, your screams blocked out from the cells being destroyed, your body mixing with the red-hot liquid. She shuddered slightly, deciding to attempt to stay as far away from the opening as possible.

Moving a lock of hair away from her eyes, she finally reached the group, realizing that they were actually close enough to the opening at the top of the mountain that she could touch the smoke if she wanted to. It would probably be hot as well though, she thought, so she moved away slightly. Hmm? she thought, looking to her right. There seemed to be a shimmering liquid of some sort. Hobbling towards it, a smile appeared on her lips as she beckoned Heron and Storm to join her.

It was a hot spring of some sort. And that meant that there was water. And that meant that they wouldn't die of dehydration, which was after all, a good thing. Slowly dipping her empty water bottle into the water, she pondered if it would be a good idea to drink it without any purification. It was, after all, boiled water, right? She resolved to save it for later, and dumped the now-filled water bottle into her satchel, strapping it tightly.

"Okay, so this is good." she stated, sitting down on the ground, gazing at her foot. It wasn't going to get better any time soon, she noted, especially if she kept walking on it. But there was no other way to get around; no cars, no nothing. She'd have to keep walking on it, no matter how much it hurt. Stretching her leg muscles for a moment, her gaze lingered on a spot in the distance, where she spotted two figures. Oh, great. Squinting her eyes (the sun was shining in them, not really fun, in her opinion), she wasn't able to make them out.

"Looks like we have company." Slowly getting up (she really didn't know how she managed to do that without crying; it was however, accompanied with a long string of curses, a few of them directed at the boy who had broke her foot), she slowly made her way to the other two, soon realizing that it was Winona and Soren. Her mind dragged her back to yesterday, the feeling of her foot braking, the fury that she felt towards those two, the feeling of a blade slicing through her back. Eyes narrowing slightly, she discreetly dug her switchblade out from her pocket, and crossed her arms. "Really?" she muttered, her voice laced with annoyance.

She didn't need this now; right now, the only thing that she needed was rest, but this was the Hunger Games. Rest was almost nonexistent. Normally, the games were filled with fighting, every single day. You were lucky if you got a day to yourself. And now, these two were here. Wonderful. But still, she might as well make the best of it while they were here, which probably included attacking them. That was the most logical of choices - attack them first, make it so you have a slight advantage, even when they had... Armor. Damn it. So they were the winners of the Wealth then. Fine, she'd still kick their asses before dying, even if their lives didn't end today. And with that, she leaped forwards, landing on her good foot, and swinging her switchblade at the boy who had broken her.[/blockquote][/justify]

[attacks Soren; knife {switchblade}]
[dice=200+2000]
[2091 - Shallow Cut on Right Hip - 3.5]

[/size][rand=602746787458863337664503821290074515309280120398721817271524761683]

[∂αмєη]

S O R E N x D R A G A N x R Y D E R

[/link][/size]
[/center]

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Crossing through the large rocks and towards the huge mountain was the primary goal of Soren Ryder for his second day in the Arena. He had hoped that Winona followed close behind as he set out, hopefully seeing Snip behind her when he decided to stop. He liked being in the lead, something that wasn't common for him. The mountain looked like the perfect place to stop too. Maybe they could climb up a bit and survey the land. That would give the alliance advantage. An advantage on the one they already had. The armor would boost their chance of survival by a bit, more than the other tributes had. Like the girl, Anastasia. Soren wished that he could've said something or apologized. He felt the guilt after the fact. The guilt for her broken foot.

He started walking upwards now, the mountain right in front of him. But as he climbed higher, he could tell that it was much more than a mountain. The ground seemed to radiate with power and heat. You know that it is a volcano. Feel more afraid? You should. You want to jump in the volcano. Soren clenched his teeth, trying to push away the voice and ignore the desires that it was giving him. Shut up. Leave me alone. He cursed, pressing onwards. He assured that the staff was tied securely to his back, the sword clenched tightly in his hand. Now he would have a bit of power behind the weapon. Now he wouldn't need to worry about his alliance feeling as if he wasn't contributing. Now he could kill.

Sure, the idea was one that he didn't want to encourage. Soren could never imagine sending his blade into the chest of another human being. It sickened him. He definitely didn't want to be the killer of some people that roamed this arena. They were friendly to him in the training center. Anastasia Fortescue, York Mentz, Maia Grayson, Winona Kirby, Snip Bysho and Heron Kimberling. Those were all the people who Soren had grown a liking to. And he already broke the promise he made to himself when he let his staff come down on the foot of Anastasia. The moment pushed him forward, willing him to do more. But he didn't want to.

His altitude was increasing with each step he took. Taking a quick look around, he could identify a few places. The large rocks that he passed by, the golden horn that was just covered with life through items and death of young children. A large lake can be seen in the distance, though its color seemed a bit off to the eyes of Soren. He memorized the layout as much as he could before he progressed higher up the mountain, hoping he could see everything from closer to the top. That was until he felt the blade slash through his hip slightly. He threw his hand to the wound, albeit it wasn't that bad, and looked up to his attacker.

Anastasia stood a bit higher, her switchblade in hand. She was with the boy with the axe and Heron, his District Partner. "Why hello there. Seems like your foot is better. I'm sorry about that. And Heron. Glad to see you are still safe. Wouldn't want to see your face in the sky." The boy began to ramble on, spitting out his words quickly. He couldn't sit around though. His hand clenched tightly around the sword, and then he swung it out, aiming right for Anastasia.

[[Anastasia ; Sword]]
[dice=200+1000]
[[Result; 1097. Stabbed in Back. 9.0 +1 Blades. 10 Damage]]

[/blockquote][/justify][rand=4804563988000154589830345707014253003498818725351598149153869599]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

---------
It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
---------

Truth be told, the first day’s Anthem had shaken Storm up real good. Three of the five tributes he did not know well, but the other two—they had their own story to tell. Storm only knew Enigma as the girl who had died in front of him. It was not by his hand, but seeing the death of a human with his eyes had been shocking, surprising. Even if he had learned to empty himself of emotions, there were always those moments when he could not restrain them, when he felt just an ounce of humanity. And Kaia—Storm had to admit that he did not know her too well, but there was always that sense of obligation to the female tribute from his district. Had he done a better job…but she was not his responsibility. And in a way, she was.

He had remained silent as they walked through the rest of the rocky terrain and approached the volcano. The two girls had decided that they would walk in that direction and Storm simply obliged. He just wanted to live. Ana was lagging behind, her broken foot causing some problems for her. Storm would have offered to carry her again but knew that she would refuse. Plus, he barely had the strength to keep himself going. All of the weight from the previous day just stayed on his shoulders, pulling him down more than gravity did.

His battle axe remained by his side as he made each step forward. Would the journey never end? Would the Games ever have a finale? Every tribute was battling it out for the sole position of winner, but what did it mean to them afterwards? Storm looked up at the sky with sad eyes. He hated all of the deaths that were happening around him, whether he was aware of them or not. He hated being in the Arena, not knowing what was in store for him or his allies or anyone else in the stupid Games. Who was going to make it to the next day? Who was going to die a painful death?

Spotting a hand gesture from Ana, Storm traced his steps back to see what she had beckoned them for. The sight of the liquid excited him and as he checked to make sure that it was indeed water, he had to resist dipping his hands in and drinking from the spring itself. The swirls of steam were enough to keep him away, but having water would be a good thing. Bending down, he collected the water into his bottle until he had one filled water bottle. It would be enough to last a few days at most.

"Looks like we have company."

Storm looked up at Ana to see what she was talking about. His eyes moved to scope the area, but could not find who had decided to join the party. His eyes were just too damn small and with the power of the sun, it limited his ability to see anything out of the slits. Damn genetics. Least you could have done is let me inherit wider eyes.

[/i] Storm took the time to stuff the water bottle in his bag and before he knew it, Ana was already off attacking the unknown (to Storm) company.

“Ana! You can’t just—Dammit.” Storm grabbed his battle axe from his side and threw his bag on. The damn girl had a broken foot and already she was lunging. She had not gone too[/color] far to attack the people who had joined them. With a clearer squint, Storm saw that it was Winona and Soren who had decided to join them. Where’s the third one? Storm thought to himself. He made his way over to Ana before she decided to do anything stupid and get herself attacked again.

Too late. “ANA!” Just as he yelled out her name, she was stabbed in the back again, this time by Soren. Not bearing the idea of just watching, Storm wanted to swing his axe at Soren’s head but just as he was about to strike, his shaking hands had dropped his axe. He cursed the tremble that made his hands so uncontrollable and reached over to pick up his battle axe, knowing full well that he had just wasted precious seconds.
[/size][/blockquote]

[cameron]

Another filler.

Winona follows Soren and waits because she doesn't have stealth.

[Tsarashi 2.0]

Heron looked over at her shoulder for the third time at Ana who was lagging behind them. Her broken foot must have been really painful, but Heron was quite proud of her companion for trekking this far on it. Back in her own District a broken foot usually meant you couldn’t work or you dealt with it. There wasn’t much else to be done for it other than to splint it, but Ana didn’t even do that. Heron could almost feel herself cringe every time she heard the girl take another step forward. ’She’s brave.’ She thought, knowing full well that she wouldn’t have gone ahead without at least splinting it with something, anything. ’But brave can also mean stupid.’ She added reluctantly.

The mountain that they were climbing was strange. It didn’t have a definite peak and the ground that she could feel through her shoes now that her socks were in her bag, was warmer. Her eyes widened when she noticed the plumes of smoke escaping its lid. This was no ordinary mountain. This was a volcano. She had only ever heard the word used before in previous hunger games, and she knew the carnage that it could create. It was very unsettling.

When Ana pointed out the hotspring Heron was glad for a distraction from her roaming thoughts about skin melting heat. Her nerves were bundled tightly, making her want to run away from the mountain, but she stood her ground against the mighty beast and even decided to take advantage of the water supply herself. She lowered her backpack to the ground and took out her canteen to dip into the warm body of water. It was warm, but not warm enough to kill the bacteria that was lurking within it.

Heron froze when she heard Ana’s next words, but she almost dropped her canteen completely when she heard Storm yelling after her. Was she mad!? Attacking someone in her condition was suicide! Quickly she fumbled with closing the water jug and placing it back in her pack to place back over her shoulder. Apparently she wasn’t quite quick enough because the moment she turned around she was met with a gruesome sight; her own district partner was pulling his sword from Ana’s back. Heron’s eyes widened in shock, she had completely missed any exchange between them.

“SOREN!” Heron yelled in agony, although not knowing why she did. She knew that she should have been screaming out to Ana like Storm was, but somehow it hurt her more having her district partner turn on her alliance member than her alliance member getting hurt. But she didn’t want Ana to die either. Heron’s fists tightened, her knuckles becoming white. The confusion of the emotions inside her wanted desperately to be let out, to be set forth like a caged animal, but there was no one she could attack.

Her eyes narrowed in helplessness as she looked at Soren, hoping to make eye contact to convey how she felt to him. There was a truce between them as tributes of District twelve since they both lived in same hell and experienced similar pains, and there was no way that she could attack him. There was also a truce between her and Snip, who figured was in some sort of alliance with Soren, seeing how they acted at the Blood Bath. But Snip was nowhere to be found. Reaching up to run her fingers through her dark hair in frustration she stopped mid-stroke. Finally out of the corner of her eye she saw the blonde girl who was District four’s tribute. There was someone she could take out her anger on.

Before Heron knew realized what she was doing she had her knife in her hand and was running towards the smaller girl. Sure, she must have gained the wealth because she had a vest on, but that didn’t matter to Heron. She was pissed and confused, making for a deadly combination. Hot tears of frustration welled up in her eyes as she attacked the girl, but they never fell.

[[Attacks Winona, Knife]]
[dice=200+2000]
[[Deep Gash on Left Calf, 8]]
[rand=9293012804191913911134072385716252193614298835943276218959210766]

[shrimp]

You're an idiot. As the switchblade grazed the other boy's hip, she quickly realized that the only two people that could attempt to help were farther away than she would like. And then, there was a sharp metallic blade sinking into her previous wound which made all thoughts disappear. The agony seeped into all parts of her body, and she fell on her side, curled up into a ball, a single groan released from her throat. More tears seeped from her eyes, and she cursed the boy for making her look so horribly weak. It's your fault though, her brain told her, but she attempted to ignore it, blaming all of her injuries on the boy (and really, she was correct for the most part - he and the girl had caused the most damage in a few moves).

Large, quick breaths were audible as the girl struggled to regain control of her senses, to somehow get the pain to go away. But the bandages began to slide downwards, irritating the already deeply cut skin, and sending small spikes of pain into her nervous system. But she had to get up, otherwise she'd be dead in a matter of seconds, eviscerated by one of the attackers, their weapon swiping cleanly through her body, the blood flowing like a stream down the slope. Managing to get into a sitting position, she watched as Heron attacked, her weapon making a painful looking wound in the girl's leg.

She's helping... So I need to get up, goddamit. Struggling to go back to her standing position was rather difficult at this point, for she was attempting to get up with only one leg and a back that was burning once more. Eventually however, she did, only having to lean on her heel once, which hurt, but not as much as if she leaned on her whole foot. Eyes shifted, glancing at the guy. What did he say before? That he was sorry? Hah, that's real funny, actually. He wasn't sorry, he even attacked her right now. He was like one of the typical tributes, wanting to survive, forgetting about their morals. Driven by the desire to simply survive.

"How'd you get caught up with this douche?" She asked Winona. The girl from D4 seemed nice enough, smart enough to realize that this was some guy who she did not want to get acquaintances with. He was friends with York, for Ripred's sake, that should be enough proof that he was not good alliance material. She sighed once, aggravation present. She wasn't going to fare well from this, she could already tell. She was the wounded one, and the typical plan was to always attack the wounded person - they'd die faster. Hadn't that occurred at almost every final that she had seen? Yes, it had. So she was dead.

... But I don't want to die. And it was that fear that sent the girl's nerves away, causing her to desperately attack the man who had attacked her, because there was no way in hell that she'd be going down without a fight. From her knowledge, none of the District 1 girls had died so quickly, and she was determined not to be the one to break this tradition. Her parents... They'd be disappointed...

[attacks Soren; knife{switchblade}]
[dice=200+2000]
[2172 - Shallow Cut on Forehead - 4.5]

[rand=857702171302026516277472132306627516847863975569482111749613744]

[∂αмєη]

S O R E N x D R A G A N x R Y D E R

[/link][/size]
[/center]

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The blade pushed forward, fighting through the intertwining array of muscle and skin that formed Anastasia's back. Soren's hand felt heavy, the weapon sliding back out, the tip hitting the ground. The sight of the blood and the screaming and the chaotic environment set in, draining the energy that Soren managed to still have, even after the hike towards the top of the volcano. But he was able to decipher that his name was one of those called out. He looked towards the girl that reminded him so much of home, despite never knowing her beforehand. Heron Kimberling was his District Partner, even though the partner part wasn't exactly fulfilled. Still, he felt obligated to keep her safe from any of his blows. If by chance [and quite a small chance at that] Soren made it out alive, he would never be forgiven by the members of the District, let alone the family members that cared for Heron, if she had any.

And out of all the people in this arena, she found safety with two people who were now enemies to the boy. Storm and Anastasia should not be seen as enemies for Soren, and he knew it. If anything, they were helping him in a way. Soren had already solidified the fact that if he couldn't win, he hoped that one of his alliance members or Heron would win. That way somebody who was genuinely nice could win it. Although, for all he knew, Anastasia and Storm could be better people than the District Four tributes. But it seemed like he would never be able to find out. The blade slashed across his forehead, forcing him to clench his teeth to suck back the pain. It hurt more than the earlier cut on his hip, probably because it was on his forehead. The blood began to pour down a bit, forcing him to wipe it away.

That's when Heron jumped forward, attacking Winona who had arrived. "Winona!" Soren yelled, immediately taking back his words. His mind was confused, trying to decide who to worry about more, whether it was his District Partner or his Alliance Member. Heron Kimberling or Winona Kirby. You want to kill them all, don't you? The thoughts were demanding, pushing further and further, making the bleeding wound on his forehead hurt with each heart beat that went off in his chest. "Heron. Are you alright? Have you been hurt?" His voice was calm, but he knew that it would be obvious that his mind was somewhere else. Sweat was pouring down, mixing in with the blood that was on his face. For Soren, he had never broken down before.

His eyes went towards Anastasia. The girl had suffered a lot because of him. Her foot was broken thanks to him and the wound in her back wasn't any help either. The few words they had exchanged in the Training Center were enough to make them acquaintances, and Soren despised the fact that he just savagely attacked. Somewhere, deep inside, he wanted to hurt the girl. He wanted to win. But now he wanted to apologize for everything. And the words she said to Winona just dug themselves into him like knives. Like the knife that Ana had used against him on multiple occasions. "I'm sorry Ana. I just need to see my wife and..." Something clicked inside of him. The discussion with Sammie about his daughter's fate came back to him. His determination to find the man who killed her. His need to see her alive. "And my daughter. I need to see my daughter. I need to know the truth." He muttered, fighting back the tears that were genuinely ready to come out. And maybe he would see her, if he couldn't fight. But being strong would let him see her, right? He would always have her in his heart if he kept fighting for her. Sammie and Evangelic would always be the strength that pushed him forward. Even if that is kind of corny and sweet and stuff.

He readied his sword, swinging back and taking a swipe at Anastasia once again. These Games would only begin when Soren tasted blood, hypothetically of course. And although he felt guilt every time he caused her pain, he knew that Anastasia would be the one that would turn him into what he needed to be. A monster.

[[Anastasia ; Sword]]
[dice=200+1000]
[[Result; Shallow Cut on Stomach. 4.0]]

[/blockquote][/justify][rand=2426936887204647563444905914366260963504179380838919453890994191]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

It felt like he was not moving fast enough, like time did not want to stand still for the eighteen year old boy. And as he fumbled to get a good grip on his battle axe, every second rang in his head as if they all counted. It was true; every second that he spent trying to compose himself was a second he could use to help Ana. He glanced over at Heron to see how she was handling the fight and wondering why she had not attacked Soren. Didn’t she know? Didn’t she see—

Realization dawned on Storm as he remembered that she was from District 12. The same district as Soren. While Storm did not have misfortune of fighting Kaia, he understood why they were keeping their attacks aimed elsewhere; to fight someone from their own district was difficult. There was always that unspoken agreement that one would not attack the other unless absolutely necessary. That left only Storm to take care of Soren. Perhaps Ana could attack as well but that depended on whether she was in the condition to do so or not.

Storm looked at Winona and knew that he would attack Soren, even if he had not hurt Ana multiple times. Just getting to know Winona had made all the difference in his decisions and he began to wonder if the Gamemakers were doing this on purpose. Of course, they were probably thinking about pitting Ana and Soren together especially after what Soren did, but Storm really did question the decisions they made.

And he was apologizing. Storm could not believe that the district twelve boy would stoop as low as to apologize to Ana after all of the strikes that he had inflicted on her. Storm mustered up as much strength as he could, ready to hit the insolent boy, when Soren said something that made Storm pause. Family…he has a family too. While Storm was aware that everyone in the Arena had a family, the boy standing in front of him had a wife, a daughter, two girls waiting for him. Storm liked to believe that he was a family person, a boy who could really treasure the time he spent with his siblings. Yet here he was, ready to strike someone who had someone waiting for him. Someone closer than Storm could claim of his siblings. He and his sisters might have shared the same blood, but Soren’s daughter shared a part of him.

No. You can’t let him do this. Your family wants you back. They depend on you to come back and keep the ranch running. Storm, don’t you dare let him tear you away from your parents. From Io. From Europa. From Sundra. Don’t you even think about giving up.

[/i] True to his thoughts, Storm gripped his axe, aimed, and swung at the boy who had hurt Ana. He couldn’t do that to her; he[/color] couldn’t just hurt his sis—ally.

[attacks Soren; battle axe]
[dice=200+11000]
[shallow cut on neck; 4.0]

It wasn't much but Storm hoped that it would bring the boy a lot of pain. Even if it did not equate the damage he had inflicted on Ana, it was enough to keep Storm going. He would just have to keep practicing until he could get the perfect hit.
[/size][/blockquote][rand=00194954223275778382636893396958853733489308568975536671445348879755]

[cameron]

D: Another filler.

Winona sees fighting. Reacts. Attacks.

Anastasia with her Spear
[dice=200+3000]
Miss[rand=349356710212305256570439040660867210335882846266839092721696943]

[Tsarashi 2.0]

It took everything in her power for Heron to keep herself from looking over her shoulder at the three behind her who were fighting. Even when Soren called out to her she didn’t look; the scene held too much confusion for her to comprehend at the moment. Maybe later, when she had time to think back she would finally be able to decipher the right from the wrong. But at that very moment there was no right to the fighting. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong. She shouldn’t be fighting here in an arena, fighting people she just met. She should be at home, discovering new things about Fletcher. She should be righting things with her friends. She should be helping her parents support themselves when they are older.

But she wasn’t in the ‘right’ world. She was in a world of hatred and violence where the bloodthirsty beings that were once human fight for survival. It was sick. To her Ana and Storm were still human, but what about Soren? Was the boy from her District still holding tightly to his humanity or had he given in to the blood and darkness? It was hard to tell.

His concerned words were completely contradicting his actions. Even now she could hear his knife as it sliced into Ana’s flesh. Heron’s hands tightened around her switchblade, ready to lunge once again at the District four girl. But then the girl wasn’t there. Heron was forced to turn around to look for her, turning towards her alliance and Soren. There she was, attacking Ana with Soren. The tomboy’s eyes narrowed. There was already one person fighting her, and she is injured!

But, she thought to herself, it did make sense to attack the weakest. Also Ana and Storm were ganging up on Soren which was somewhat unfair. Just because she could understand the girl’s reasoning didn’t mean that it gave her the right. Did no one else have an honor code!? Heron shook her head. No, they didn’t. They were no longer human. But that brought back to her first question; what about Soren?

Thoughts raced through Heron’s mind and she was forced to waste precious moments holding her head in agony. It was too much for her, the death, the choices, the truces. Was it really that necessary for the Capitol to create the games? Didn’t the poor deprived citizens of Panem already have enough of a reminder of the Capitol’s power as they starved and died on a day to day basis? How was this entertaining to them?! That’s when she determined that the Capitol citizens were not human either. Only the people back home were. The people back home and Ana and Storm and Soren. But Soren was in the process of changing into a monster as they fought.

Heron couldn’t move as these thoughts clouded her mind and vision. She knew that they were taking over her body. She could physically and mentally feel the arena stealing her humanity from her. Suddenly her thoughts were quiet again just before she remembered the last things that her Fletcher had told her. "I'll be with you there always! His voice echoed throughout her head and her eyes widened. “I'm your ally, and you are mine. Whenever you are feeling lonely, just remember that I'm watching.”

Just those few words were enough to calm her. He was watching, so she needed to be at her best. She needed to show him that she could live up to his expectations of her. Heron looked upwards so that the cameras could get a good look at her determined expression. She would do anything to get back to him, even kill. Heron never questioned why she felt this way before she was running towards the small fray, slicing at the blonde girl with her silver switchblade. Maybe, if she was lucky, if she won she might even be able to bring the knife home as some sort of souvenir. It was, after all, quite beautiful.

[[Attacks Winona, Knife]]
[dice=200+2000]
[[Shallow cut on Forehead, 4.5]]
[rand=5152136716447345682232174644647271425440227449346474104662021717]

[shrimp]

... Why was she even thinking about her parents right now? They weren't the ones who were here; both of them had lived cozy lives as children, spared from the reaping (to their chagrin), raising their daughters to win at all costs. One had already failed them - Eliza was much too trusting for her own good, apparently. One day, her parents had made Ana watch the murder of her own sister, sitting her down right in front of the television. Eyes widened, she had watched the whole thing, a slight frown plastered on her lips. "She wasn't good enough, Ana," Her mother had said. "She let us down - but you're not going to do that, are you?" The girl had responded no to that, her eyes still fixated on her sister's corpse, blood draining on the cornucopia floor.

She had trained harder after that day, determined to make her parents proud of her for once. But... Now that she was here, what did that accomplish? She was still injured, still had the foot that prevented her from moving quickly, still had many different injuries inflicted at all (well, 3 or so - the boy had just sliced at her stomach) parts of her body. She'd still die. It was inevitable to forget about. Clearly, she was the weakest one here right now. And these two Wealth-winners were aiming only at her, not really caring about what Storm or Heron did. Storm was attempting to help Ana, his axe swinging precariously close to Soren's neck, but Heron was attacking the girl.

For a moment Ana was confused. Why isn't she helping us hit him? Heron was always one of those proud types, just in a different way than Ana was. She would take the noble route to things, whereas Ana would simply act as if she were confident, that she was able to do it (no matter what "it" actually was), no matter what, which really only would hinder her in the long run (which in this case seemed to be shortening by the second). But then Ana remembered that Heron was Soren's district partner.

There had always been this unspoken rule between tributes; never attack your district partner, or face a very angry District when you return home. Granted, Ana had accidentally broken this pact (luckily it wasn't a serious injury, but it was still bad), but that didn't mean that anyone could now. Heron wouldn't be attacking Soren, and sooner or later, that would come to hurt her alliance. It was the right thing to do, yet it would hinder her later, when Ana's heart stopped beating. How likely was it that she'd actually get out alive? She was close enough to death that movements were strained, breathing was loud and heavy.

It was useless for them to continue helping her. They would only get hurt, and that would worsen their chances of surviving. What if Soren or Winona decided to attack another person? What if they broke their leg, or was instantly killed? No, it would be better for the two to just run away, leaving Ana to face these two alone. Yet she knew that they wouldn't do that; they were much better people than her, and wouldn't leave their ally behind. Why did I have to meet good people here? Why not in One?

Truthfully, Anastasia had never met anybody worth mentioning in District One. In her eyes, all of them were stuck up Careers, or wannabe Careers who were stuck in a dead-end job polishing diamonds or creating toys or designing things. Many of them wanted to feel the blood lust, were eager to show their dominance in the city that was slightly less bright and cheery than the Capitol. They were different than her. They wanted it. She didn't. The role of "57th Female Tribute for District One" was simply placed on her without consent, and if she said no she would be dead anyways. Did she even want to be a tribute the moment she was reaped? The question rolled around in her head for a time until she finally settled on her answer.

No. No she did not.

[attacks Soren; knife {switchblade}]
[dice=200+2000]
[2135 - Miss - 0.0]

[rand=6733079524555202889112526309857972697117762614623255994680222908]

[∂αмєη]

S O R E N x D R A G A N x R Y D E R

[/link][/size]
[/center]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The boy with the axe came forth. He wanted his shot. Storm Wie swung with it, scratching Soren lightly. And then Anastasia missed. Everything went by so fast. Heron was attacking Winona, Winona missed with her spear. And Soren was confused with what to do next. Heron was doing heavy damage to his new found friend, his District Partner attacking his alliance member. The decision he made to try to keep them both safe was faltering. He would have to end it somehow. Maybe a death would surprise them all.

Suicide. It was never a thought that brushed passed his mind. Well, not really. I mean, there was that small feeling of teenage angst, the one that really means absoloutley nothing. A normal phase even. But this thought that pushed itself into his mind was real and strong and it soon became his desire, even if he did not agree to it. The boy wanted to live, but he knew that if he died or if anybody died, people would be distracted so others could escape. And with Snip gone, Soren and Winona were needing just that. Even with the armor, their one man disadvantage was too much. It was too hard to handle fighting two people. Winona had it luck, yet she was the one that got the heaviest attacks. But Soren was getting tired as he tried to hoist his sword up into a prepared pose.

He eyes the girl through his sweaty hair that had melted out the gel. It now hung over his eyes messily, the helmet making it more of a mess. Wiping it away quickly, he let out his breath. Things seemed to slow down then, adrenaline pumping its way through his veins faster than it ever had. And he watched each facial expression that was made by each person on that volcano. What was he thinking? Death was the farthest thing from what he wanted in those moments. He wanted salvation, freedom and Sammie. And if he let the knife of Anastasia enter his eye or the axe of Storm Wie slashing across his neck, removing the head, he would not be able to achieve his goals. And that meant he would not be successful. If Soren wanted one thing in life, it was to be that way. So he would never stop.

[[Anastasia ; Sword]]
[dice=200+1000]
[[Result; 1131. Shallow Cut on Right Calf. 3.5 + 1 Time Delay. 4.5]]

[/blockquote][/justify][rand=65147934295237061234698316548019661559920897707344220781195908785]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

Storm took the time to assess the situation that he and his allies were in. Heron was still fighting Winona, but Winona seemed to have her sights out for Ana. Soren was still aiming at Ana which only made sense since Ana was easily the weakest of the three. And Ana was just attacking Soren out of fury. He couldn’t blame Ana either; Soren did have a way of screwing up Ana’s life during the two encounters they had made in the Arena. Still, all the misses that she was making concerned Storm.

Do I tell her that she needs to get her head together? Would my words even soak in? She looks so angry…

[/i] But being calm was the only way to ensure a good hit—or at least better aim. “Ana, maybe it would be—“ Before Storm could finish his sentence, Soren attacked Ana once again. It was a relatively small infliction considering all of the gashes Ana had to endure earlier, but[/color] Storm was sure that Ana was beyond pissed at the district 12 boy.

Figuring he would have to step in before Ana did something rash, he did the most idiotic thing ever: he stepped in between the two. He didn’t say anything to either of the fighting tributes, but tried to get them to calm down. It was stupid in the sense that he was going to end up eating his own words the moment he attacked Soren again. While he wanted nothing more than for the two to collect their selves (especially the obviously hotheaded Ana), he also knew that he would have to protect Ana from any potential hits. And yes, that would mean attacking Soren.

His eyes flickered between the two tributes, unsure of whether he was daring them to make a move or not. It was also a good way to buy time. Yes, he was going to protect Ana at all costs, but there was still a part of him not yet ready to attack Soren. No…he would have to do it anyway. Did Storm really expect Soren to just believe him, to think that Storm felt a little compassion for the insane boy? Even Storm had difficulty eating that one up.

With a slight pang, he only thought about his duty, his honor to protect his fellow allies. He would fulfill what he needed to do, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel a little regret for every action he made.

[attacks Soren; battle axe]
[dice=200+11000]
[Block; 0.0]

Dammit! So maybe Storm really had nothing to chide Ana about; his own attack had been proven rather unworthy. He was sure that Heron would not attack the boy from District 12 so it was only left to Ana and Storm to figure out a way to eliminate the opponent.
[/size][/blockquote][rand=6155339226115026625411422834080793526362324123623939226280041702]

[cameron]

ooo
There's a chip on your shoulder, girl
And by God it'll make you fall
If you let it take a part of your soul
ooo

[/color][/center]

The girl had been walking for hours before reaching the volcano, she assumed; however, being such a horrible morning person, Winona never really came to until a sharp pain had been sent into her leg. With a slight shriek, the Tribute shook her head and rubbed her eyes quickly and harshly, glancing down to see the blade piercing her skin. What the hell was going on? She stepped back, taking in the scene before her, and came to the conclusion that she wasn't dreaming—there were always naked people in her dreams, and currently the slut could see no person without an article of clothing.

Maybe she should change that. Winona began to remove her dark heliotrope sweatshirt when the same girl who had stabbed her in the leg lunged at her, cutting a slit into her forehead.

Holy fuck. Holy fucking fuck. How the hell was she supposed to seduce men with a giant slice across her head? The men of Panem would take one look at her face and turn away in disgusts. How was she supposed to find love now? Was it even possible?

Then, she was aware the girl Winona had beaten up on the day before was speaking to her. The blonde didn't quite catch her comment, but she could tell it was witty and about Soren. What could this girl possibly have to say about Soren? Something made its way across Winona's mind about him being a douche. Was that what the girl had said? That he was a douche? No! That couldn't be! Not the man that had cuddled with her to keep her warm in the Arena!

But wait... had he said something about his wife? And a daughter? How was he in the Games if he had a family back home? Winona was sure there was someone who could have volunteered for him.. right? There were plenty of Volunteers in District Four, and considering the amount of Victors from the Twelth in recent times, she assumed several children were being raised to be warriors now. They probably had some underground secret ninja training facility or something top-private like that.

And now she was officially delirious. "I need breakfast," she announced, sitting down and crossing her legs to reach into her rucksack, she rummaged around until the sad conclusion came to her. "Soren... we have no food."

Maybe what the girl had said about him being a douche was correct after all. Really, what kind of lover doesn't even get you food in the morning after cuddling? No man she could love. Even if he did have the sexiest abs Winona had ever licke—

Blood oozing into her eyeball made her remember that there was a fight going on around her, and if she didn't want to die, she might want to participate. Though, who should she assist? She wasn't exactly bent on helping Soren at that moment, as the man had proven to be quite the douche. But it wasn't exactly her to place to attack him, either. So, doing the only logical thing she could think of at such an early hour in the morning, Winona Kirby turned to the other three Tributes. "Ana, you were right. He is a douche," she said, slowly.

Footsteps peacefully managed their way forward, as the girl creepily whispered her next words. "But, it really would have helped me if I had known this earlier. The man could already be dead." Winona turned her head slightly, giving the male Tribute behind her (the one who wasn't Asian) a wink. Though, while she was at it, she might as well give the Asian a wink, too. And so, she did. Then she continued speaking. "So, I have to attack you.. I guess. I don't really know. I just... I'm sorry."

With that, Winona struck her pike at her enemies.

[Attacks Ana (spear)]
[dice=200+3000]
-Deep Gash on Forehead, 9.0-

[/blockquote][rand=9232856917660683919889747630804842030849680304537132578066084534]

[Tsarashi 2.0]

Heron stood in disbelief as her opponent sat down in the middle of a battle. Was she mad? They were in the middle of fighting and she just decides to sit down and look for something to eat? Yup, she was crazy. Heron ignored her own stomach’s growling as she came to this conclusion. It had been how long since they last ate? One, two days? Either was they needed to find something soon. But first the District four girl had to be gone. She was alright with Soren being there, but she knew her allies thought otherwise.

’What do I do Fletcher?’ She asked her thoughts, hoping desperately that she would actually receive an answer. When no answer came she was disappointed, but didn’t look further into it. It wasn’t as if Fletcher could actually communicate with her in the arena. When she looked back to Winona, she found herself angry with how spoiled she must have been. And to top it off she was rude as all hell!

”Get up!” Heron yelled at the girl, refusing to attack while she was down. But the moment that Winona started talking about her own ally Heron got pissed. What kind of person gets into an alliance with a person they didn’t like?! That was selfish and disgusting.

That was when she lunged at Ana again, slicing open her forehead. Now three of them had blood trickling down their faces from similar wounds, but Ana’s was obviously the worst. That blonde girl needed to be put in her place. ”Your fight is with me, bitch! Leave Ana alone!” She had wanted to call out to Soren too, telling him that he could do better without this girl, but she didn’t have the time before she was attacking again.


[[Attacks Winona, knife]]
[dice=200+2000]
[[Block, 0.0]]

[ooc= I'm telling you guys, this is the forehead fight!]
[rand=155417252810188487959939623916077229358165810393603227558330943736]