Desiderata [LAP v. Chup]

[Deleted]

•••
Death on two legs
You're tearing me apart
Death on two legs
You never had a heart of your own,
•••

Night settled into his bones as he sat on the edge of shoreline where the waves broke. Cooler now than in the heat of the hot sun, Benat Izar had put on his shorts once again—more out of modesty for the ladies in his company than anything else—but still dripped wet from his particularly long swim in the lake. There was too much calm for him, too much quiet for all the explosions and bloodshed earlier. He’d watched his allies die, burnt up and cut to pieces by the other competitors. At first it’d been a shock to his system—he should’ve felt less, considering how long they’d been together—but there was something about the speed with which they died had rattled poor Benat’s head to the core. He’d distanced himself from them; he’d tried as hard as he not to think of their families back home (and by extension, his own). But the evening spent with Essence, and having lain next to her—he’d felt his mind twist into knots to explain just what he’d felt.

He slept with a restlessness he hadn’t faced since the night prior to entering the arena. Visions of fire and faces of the dead haunted him; though he had no blood on his hands, he saw all of the fallen tributes struck down and moaning over their deaths. The gurgling of their cries in the air, the blood collecting in their throats and leaving them without life. He had nowhere to turn, there was only the endless blackness of his mind and the faces of the dead to comfort him. He woke in a trembling fit of sweat, the anthem rattling him from his spot along the edge of the shore. Buttercups Ezra’s name came first, followed by William’s, and at last Essence. He let out a sigh as the anthem faded, and he was left to think of those that remained. Just eleven—besides himself—and he might even get the chance to see his brothers and family again.

He went through the list again in his mind: District One, Emerald and Viridian, both of them he hadn’t seen since the bloodbath; Cricket, the girl with the twelve; River and Noah, no doubt holding on as were the other careers; Elodie, still alive; the Keenis, burning bright; Owen, the one they’d nearly killed; Ivy, the one that had wound up finding and joining them—neither wanting bloodshed and finding safety in numbers they’d let her; then, besides Benat, only Asunder. Half of what they’d started with, and fairly close to the end. If only he could feel comfortable about his own odds.

[/color] Even now he wondered about his allies; what great use did Benat provide? He could make a fire, but his fighting skills were remiss. And dead weight was just that; he looked to the stars then, his eyes still full of sleep. His stomach rumbled. Visions of cakes and pies had swum through his head, now a distant memory.

What sense did any of it make, anyway? Since he’d stepped onto the stage in District Eleven, he’d never believed that he could carry on to the end. He was just two tributes away from the farthest any district eleven male had ever gotten in the games in recent memory: Denver of the 59th finished tenth. Any further and the territory would be up to Benat to explore. And honestly, who would have guessed Benat wouldn’t wind up with a knife in his neck or an arrow in his eye? There were little miracles protecting him, or, at the least, dumb luck. It was the only smile he could muster then, thinking of the lucky rabbit’s paw in his pocket. He wondered how the rest of them could be so brave and so certain of their future when he was almost afraid of his own shadow.

He kept watch of the sky as the others slept, listening to the waves as they crashed along the shore. Life sure was confusing.[/color] Benat readily admitted. With who lived and who died, certainly: there wasn’t much rhyme or reason in the games. He’d come to realize this. But in the same vein—in the cool wind of the evening—Benat Izar began to turn over just what the universe meant: were they all just random points colliding with someone, or was there order? It didn’t feel as though fate had anything to do with it; why would he be selected when there could have been other, better able tributes from his district? And that he’d just begun to open up to Essence, only to have her snatched away… it felt as though life wasn’t fair. And he didn’t understand it, not one bit.

But then… he supposed that maybe, in the grand scheme of things, he wasn’t meant to understand. There were a great many stars in the sky, maybe more than people in Panem. They could have had people looking back at him, thinking the same—how and why life was the way it was. And he was the sand on the beach, infinitesimally small and unimportant. But that’s just the way it is, [/color] Benat supposed. In the sea of stars and the brush of another breeze, Benat brought his hand to his face. I’m just a little piece, that’s part of a big, big universe.[/color] And he pondered over the thought: without the grain of sand, or blade of grass, or drop of water… well, life wasn’t the same, was it? And so many of them wanted to play big, to be big, to be the best… what if life was just meant to be lived?

And maybe… [/color]Benat brought his knees to his chest. Maybe the universe is unfolding exactly as it should.[/color] Maybe the idea of fate—maybe all that was supposed to happen would, no matter what he wanted it to be.[/color] It was a thought that stayed with him until morning, when they walked to the great expanse of the Golden Pyramid. Life would continue to march on,[/color] He reasoned. Which meant that he had to keep up.[/color]

[Benat attacks the Chupacabra with his blowgun by blowing a blowdart at it]
[dice=200+4000]
[result:4118-- Miss -- 0.0 damage]

He didn't notice the humming, not until it was too late. He was more upset about the miss to care. Of course, that was until one of the leeches latched onto him, and he let out a shriek.

[dice=5]
[result: 4 x 2 = 8 damage]

[/center]

[/justify][/blockquote][/size][rand=5870432963129133818640742683783268603344983421278819321012124419]

[arx!!]

Look at me. You may think you see
who I really am , but you'll never know me.
Every day it's as if I play a part.
Now I see if I wear a mask I can fool the world,
But I cannot fool my heart.

It's another night of ignoring the anthem. I know I should pay attention, mourn for my friends when their faces flash in the sky, but I can't bring myself to see their faces - to see anyone's face really. So, instead of staring at the sky, I turn myself over despite how much it hurts, and watch the ground instead. The anthem blares in my ears, filling my head with the wretched fanfare, but I ignore it all. The grains of sand beneath me sparkle like the stars in the sky do. Each grain reflects the light from the moon and the stars back at me so bright that it's almost blinding. I wonder if maybe I am sleeping in a field of fallen stars? I sit up, crossing my legs in front of me, and scoop up a palm full of the tiny, sparkling grains as the anthem begins to taper off, the sound of the lake consuming me now. I hear Benat sigh (I know it's him from the boom of it) and the Ivy girl with her sarcastic comments and twin sister back home. It certainly made the District 9 reaping a dreary one. I had half a mind to kill her when she found the two of us, I even picked up my spear and pointed it at her, even after she submitted and asked to become allied with us. Usually I don't feel this thing - the feeling that washed over me at the sight of her - but I did. And still, the feeling flames red hot when I look at her. Jealousy. I know it's stupid, but I can't help it. She is in the same situation as me, she watched her friends die just like I did, and still the jealousy consumes me. My anger is misplaced, I know, but I'm going to die and my whole mind is just a jumble of rage, waiting to pounce on the closest victim I can find. (Is it weird that my hate turns into sexual advances constantly?) Twins. I smirk at the sand in my hand. When I was little I thought I was a twin. Urbane brought me home and for a few years I believed that my adopted sister was my long lost twin. But that was a complete lie just like the rest of my life. But this girl Ivy, she has real twin sister who actually matches her in every way, who loves her unconditionally and has been with her for her entire life. And what the hell do I get? A fake. I get a fucking lie.

I clench my jaw and my hand fists around the sand as tears leap to my eyes. I seems stupid to waste the water I had just drank on silly little tears and I force them away before throwing the clump of sand into the water. The grains separate in the air and make a funny noise when they hit the water. The lake rippling in the moonlight makes me feel at home, even when the only real water I have seen in the tiny creek near the outside of the District. But the whole landscape looks it's made of stars and it helps me relax my jaw and keep the tears from returning to my eyes. The prospect of being in the stars without having wings is almost to good to be true. I run my hand through my matting hair, trying to pull the knots free. I raise my hands to braid it and gasp when my collarbone again bursts with pain. Funny how I've begun to forget about it even though the pain hasn't dulled at all in the past few days. I'm guessing it's just being overpowered by stronger things. Anger, fear, jealousy, hatred, love, more fear (Wow. I'm a mess without sex for a few days.) - everything I have seen and experienced is so much greater than the physical pain in my clavicle. Clavicle - the one word I remember from my science class. I give a sigh and pull out my paintbrush. I dream of paint as I walk through this arena. It's always been a love affair I allow myself to participate in. Colors don't betray you. Paint doesn't push you away. A picture can be whatever you want it to be. Paint can't hurt you and that is why I allow it. I swish the tip across the sand in front of me, finding that the sand works brilliantly as a canvas. I bite my lip and let my hand move as it wishes. My right hand is uncoordinated and clumsy, but somehow it doesn't matter all that much. When I look down, it turns out to be a barely visible boat. A triangle sail, a half-circle cabin, a tiny boy waving from the deck, a few birds soaring in the sky. I could add a thousand words below it. I could build an entire story about the boy and the journeys the boat has endured and everything the little birds have seen, but instead I only write a single word - Bye. And so I let a single tear fall.

And then a buzz rises around me. The sound is deafening, drowning out the sound of the lake lapping up at the shore. And then I'm looking up to find a black cloud coming towards me. For a moment I can only stare. And then fear takes over and drives me to my feet as the insect things latch onto my skin. I try to swat them away, to pry them from where they have attached to my skin, but they won't budge and the longer I stand around trying to get them off, the more that begin to attach themselves to me. I grab everything I have and begin to run. Run away as fast as I can manage, not caring about my friends on the beach. (Although I'm sure they heard my screaming ...) I run and run and run until everything from head to toe is aching. And then I collapse, just as a golden pyramid appears in my vision.

`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`

I awake to the sound of footsteps. I moan I as struggle to my feet, my stomach growling and my muscles still aching from excessive exertion. The leeches are still attached to me and I let myself freak out a little. Fucking leeches are sucking my blood and they won't come off! Benat and Ivy have them attached to them too, maybe even a few more of them than me. I laugh and pick up my stuff, using Benat as means to pull myself to my feet. "And I was certain we were the only blood-sucking parasites in this place." Jokes again. and when I'm on my feet, brushing myself off, I pull out my other defense mechanism. "Thanks, good looking. I certainly owe you the night of your life." I run my finger down the middle of his chest before I press my body against his, running my fingers along the waistband of his shorts. "I'm certainly looking forward to having these off you again." I smile and tug at his shorts before turning away and walking towards the pyramid. It shines in the sun, bright enough to blind someone from a mile away, let alone a couple hundred yards. But my admiration of the thing is cut short when the ugliest living thing on the planet pops up out of nowhere. Benat uses his blowjob pops into my brain but I know that's the wrong ending to the word gun, but the dart shoots wide and he misses the creature. "Maybe you should use that javelin you hide in your pants instead." I say, laughing despite the situation. Before I can even think about anything else, I am jabbing at the creature with my spear and shoving Benat up the stairs of the pyramid that shimmers in front of us. Ivy manages a good hit behind me and I'm running down the stairs again, pulling her away from it, blocking a blow it aims at me. Stupid animal. I think it's the ugliest thing I have ever seen, by far. I almost want to cry for it. I chuckle to get rid of the lump in my throat.

"Is it sad that I have slept with worse things than that?"

[Elodie attacks Chupacabra with her Spear]
[dice=200+3000]
{Deep Gash on Stomach -- 9.0 damage}

AH FLYING LEECHES
[dice=5]
{4.0 damage}

I am now in a world where I have
to hide my heart and what I believe in,
But somehow I will show the world
what's inside my heart
And be loved for who I am.

[rand=514503754675388311320551671087742745081668021157412562524806708097]

[florentine, d4b ❁]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i46.tinypic.com/1e3uyx.jpg); width: 498px; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px;][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] ivy soren.

[/font]

we keep on paying those freaks on the tv
who claim they will save us but want to enslave us
and sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
but we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder
and no one's the killer and no one's the matyr[/center]



I am glad to have found people again. That is, people who do not threaten to kill me with each turn of the head and toss flaming weapons to singe my head each sunrise. (Trust is a big word, but I am still breathing.) Despite being all the things I am[/color], I am not stupid. I fled from the bushes and did my best to avoid the two who I have met with each day until now. They are no friends of mine, despite the mercy I have shown them.[/color] So I walk, armed with the knowledge that whatever I face on the fourth day of my stay here, I will not be alone. (Indigo watches me from far, far away.)

My hands shake as I raise my weapon, the world around me a blur. Something is coming - a rustle in the bushes, the sudden still in the air are signs I have learned to read[/color]. Perhaps it is simply paranoia. (Better to be safe than sorry.) I look down, noticing the leeches that cling to my flesh. I cannot attack them with my flail - (I do not fancy meeting with death for at the very least another week.)[/color] I turn, distracted by the great beast waiting for me.

{ivy attacks the chupacabra with her flail}

[dice=200+12000]

[six damage]

{ivy finds leeches on her skin leaving two times the following damage}

[dice=5]

[eight damage]

normal text
emphasis one.

[/color]
(notes)[/color]
"words!"[/center]

[/color]

the weather report keeps tossing and turning
predicting and warning and warning of
possible leakage with news publications and possible
leakage from news tv stations, the very same morning
right next to her coffee she noticed some bleeding

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/color]
[/td][/tr][/table]
[/center][rand=4663950377143919549707101751118973060190747492029578999406658113]

[sadniss everdeen]

.CHUPACABRA.

[/size]

There are others here.

You feel them as surely as you feel anything else, as solid as the dirt underneath your feet or the air on your tongue. They are here in a place that should be yours and it fills you with the rage that is natural to your warped inheritance, howling to the starry sky as you snuffle about in the jungle's embrace for their scent. They are unwounded but the little blacks take the blood from their flesh with their little teeth - no pain for you, no, no not with the skin so thick it can deflect talons. Perhaps talons they have and you've seen the others and their shiny claws that cut through bodies so easily, just like you and the weapons you have. But their strange claws won't save them, no, not when they take what is yours.

You slink through the undergrowth but your body is bulky for they spin to your noise with scared eyes exposing the essence of them. There are few that do not yield to you - one is the giant thing with mouths that slither and fangs that tear through all, and you know enough to cover yourself low low low and retreat when it comes about. But they do not know that this object is yours, the golden thing that glints in the sun, and they taint it with their presence and try to make a home among its crevices and overhangs. You snarl and one goes to you, swiping feebly with his claw and missing - your satisfaction is short lived as two more find their grasp in the reaches of you, tugging at your belly and exposing the soft flesh within. The pain is blinding but your existence is one of frenzy and death, one of howling as you charge at the one that has wrought so much damage with her talons of metal.

[attacks Elodie, block]
[dice=200+2000]

Your own talons catch in the metal of theirs and you snarl in frustration, backing off with the tail thumping vicious harmonies upon the ground. It will never be close to over, no, not with your prize so tantalizing in the night sky.

[/size][/blockquote]
[rand=79041986284881758899573565539469738879178038826438327435003409]

[Deleted]

•••
Death on two legs
You're tearing me apart
Death on two legs
You never had a heart of your own,
•••

Every fight they entered into felt like lifetimes—fast as they were, every cut, every graze of skin, it took a toll that lasted longer in his mind than he’d expected. Benat had quickly discovered his resolve was different than other tributes; he wasn’t capable of mustering the anger it took to strike another down in cold blood. It had never been in his nature to see stars and grow red in the face. Maybe he could stick out his tongue and give a witty rejoinder, cutting through the bullshit with his own brains, but he wouldn’t be the slice them and dice them type. He supposed there were plenty watching that were disappointed in him; after all, he’d not so much as killed one other person. His allies were more entrancing that way, Elodie with her spear and bravery; Ivy would surely prove herself as well.

Still, there memories would cling to him, death coming or not. He had been more of a keeper than anything else—he knew the secrets of others, he liked laughing and finding out truth rather than seeking out the vengeance needed. Life was—had he not just proclaimed—to unfold as it should. So nick me for my blood and scatter my ashes to the wind,

[/color] he reckoned, ’Cause I don’t have much to give. [/color] No, Benat Izar was a shadow amongst the rest of them. Still wondering, or pondering about the truth more than anything else. Boring, [/color] He reasoned, I wish I wasn’t, [/color] he thought to himself. Life was more exciting, even at the sound of a cannon, than those that hid in the shadows or were relegated to the background.

But it would be another lesson to learn: what was important to them didn’t matter so much to him. [/color]Wasn’t that was happiness was all about?

"I'm certainly looking forward to having these off you again." Elodie’s voice rang out as she pulled herself up by Benat’s shorts. His mouth hung open, a brief uh [/color] escaping into the night air. She was still a mystery, though not so much now as when they’d met on the first day. He knew she was from district five, and that she didn’t very much like to wear clothes. She had taken a shine to William, but she seemed to take a shine to almost anything that had a penis shown her attention. Benat, being the upstanding good southern boy from District Eleven was nothing but genial to her; the way he was raised had made sure that for as much as he might poke fun, ladies always got respect. Even though it didn’t seem that she wanted the respect that was being given to her. [/color]"Maybe you should use that javelin you hide in your pants instead."

Benat smirked as she spoke and shook his head. “Well,” He licked his lips, “Now’s not the time to go poking around in things, that’s for later,” He replied with a wink. He backed up further, stepping up the precipice of the great pyramid. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and he could see the disgusting mongrel better. Up on two legs, it looked like a demon wolf—or rather, a creation somewhat doglike, but distorted. It was nothing like his pup Gregor back in District Eleven; he was certain if he got too close to the thing’s jaws, it would bite off one of his arms. Elodie didn’t move as fast as he did up the stairs, but was lucky enough to parry the set of teeth meant for her arm. He winced; he’d never seen anything like this, and had no idea if it too were poisonous. And that would be the worst thing of all, to die here and now, after so long, to poison. Why had he given up his antidote? [/color]

“Little help here, Ivy?” Benat quipped as he tried to help Elodie once again. He got to his knees and licked his lips once again. His hands were shaking some—even after all this time—and he had to readjust his sight to get a better shot. He took a breath. [/color] It never got any easier, even after four days. He’d count to ten if he’d had time—but no, he pushed his lips to the pipe and let out another gust.

[Benat attacks the Chupacabra with his blowgun by blowing another blowdart at it]

[dice=200+4000]
[result:4171 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage]

[/color][/center]

The dart nicked the thing's calf, and Benat lowered his blowgun once again. While he wasn't too happy with the result, it was better than nothing. He quickly set about loading one of his remaining darts into the tube.
[/justify][/blockquote][/size][rand=85586427408270548296808816958219280956384493038066405165256001055]

[arx!!]

Look at me. You may think you see
who I really am , but you'll never know me.
Every day it's as if I play a part.
Now I see if I wear a mask I can fool the world,
But I cannot fool my heart.

It snarls and hisses and growls in such a way that I wonder if perhaps it has actually heard my words and understood. But I know that isn't possible. It wants to kill me, not listen to me. Or maybe in a different world it might listen, like a dog sits at it's owners feet and listens or Lethe's pet lizard sits on her shoulder and licks at her cheek, but in this world it was designed to kill and destroy and spray a tribute's blood across the golden stairs of this mighty structure that glimmers so bright. Will it shine brighter when it glistens with blood? My blood? I climb further up the stairs, my goal being to reach the room that sits at the top. I've sat in many rooms in my life. If you put each one together you could easily tell the story of my life. A star filled room, my mother cooing to me the stories of the stars, telling me that my eyes shone brighter than any star in the sky could ever manage to. My closet at the orphanage, my little slice of heaven (not really heaven, only a fantasy), a place where I could dream and make believe and paint and paint and paint without anyone to bother me. My room in the Magpie residence, the actual size not all that small, and in actuality, it is probably the biggest room I will ever truly have, but it seems the smallest. I've lived in closets and windowless rooms and still the room that confined me most was the place I call home. The walls gave me much space, but the people inside crushed me beneath them. And then there were the bedrooms and club bathrooms and really every little space that those who paid could find, filled with nothing but me and a paying customer who wanted nothing more than to be with me for a few hours. Multiple staircases where I was thrown down or shoved out by women who wanted their husbands or boyfriends or fathers back. You may not count them as rooms, but they confine you just as every other room does. It hurts just as much to land on them as it does on the floor. And then there was the room I sat in just after the Reaping in the Justice Building back in five with it's velvety seats that were riddled with tear stains. (You couldn't tell by looking, but I did feel them soaked in the cushions.) And then there was every single train car that carried me to the Capitol, one where I slept, one where I ate, one where we watched previous Games and all the Reapings, and one where I had too much fun a little too loudly? William naked next to me. Then of course, the rooms at the Capitol. The training center, riddled with my tales of victory and suppers that I couldn't finish and people with no tongues and Victors for most every district and Gamemakers who have plotted to have this thing in front of me tear me to shreds. And then there is this Arena, which really isn't a room at all. It's a game board and every little bit of life inside it; nothing more than a pawn.

I slip on step near the top and my spear almost falls from my grasp. I want to stop and take a breath, all this rushing around - all this fleeing for my life - is certainly a lot of work. My feet and palms and knees burn against the gold that bakes in the sun. I pick myself up and start to move back up the stairs again, sweat dripping from ever possible spot on my body. I laugh because that's all I ever do now-a-days I don't much care who thinks I am crazy. It's only logical that my m-Urbane should pop into my head now. I wonder what she thinks of me. I'm guessing she regrets ever taking my slutty little ass home with her that day at the orphanage. I bet she regrets screaming my name at the Reaping. I bet she regrets ever paying any attention to me. (Pffft, as if she actually did ever pay any attention to me.) I bet she regrets every last bit of knowing me now. Is she spitting on my memory? Is she burning all my paintings out back? Is she cursing at the television screen every time she sees my face? Does she want me to come home? Does she want me to die here? Does she hate me? Does she love me? Did she ever really love me? I push the thoughts of her - my mother - out of my head when it hurts too much to think about. I shouldn't care what they think of me. They don't miss me, I'm certain of that. But I'd like to think that they don't hate me either. I'd like to think that the people I have lived with since I was little, my one true family, isn't spitting curses at me or talking about me like I am trash. (Even though I am equivalent to less than trash.) Wasn't it only a few weeks ago that I woke up in a dumpster? Puke all over me and a man next to me? I should've just stayed there where I belonged.

I should've just died in that dumpster among banana peels and rats; Died among my own kind.

I stumble again this time I do drop my spear. My allies are behind me with their weapons raised, sweat beading on their foreheads just as it does on mine. I give a little yelp before collecting myself and rushing back down the stairs to grab my spear which slides closer and closer to the talons and nasty breath of the creature that is following us closely. I reach downward past my allies who continue to run upwards, grasping at the tip of the spear, cutting my hand before turning it quickly back onto the creature, my blood mixing with it's blood on the shimmering steps. It bares it's teeth at me, slashing it's claws, wanting nothing more than to kill me. But I can't die here. Not among gold and fancy things and good people. Because trash doesn't deserve that honor. I scramble back up the steps, except that my paintbrush then falls from where it hides in my sling, and I have to yet again reach back for it. Somewhere a little voice is telling me to leave it be. To get rid of the little ray of hope that I continue to hold on to. But my feet move back down the steps and each heart beat tells me that without this last little bit of hopes and dreams, without this paintbrush, I will crumble into nothing. I will become dust on the wind. Sand on the beach. A flower in the soil. A star in the sky. Not yet. I lunge for the brush just as the creature pounces and the pain is there in my arm before I can scream.

And my paintbrush is in my hand alongside my spear. Through the pain the hope survives.

[Elodie attacks Chupacabra with her Spear]
[dice=200+3000]
{ Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage}

I am now in a world where I have
to hide my heart and what I believe in,
But somehow I will show the world
what's inside my heart
And be loved for who I am.

[rand=71337976749055096435689406935126164791845250874761938494562637061]

[florentine, d4b ❁]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i46.tinypic.com/1e3uyx.jpg); width: 498px; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px;][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] ivy soren.

[/font]

we keep on paying those freaks on the tv
who claim they will save us but want to enslave us
and sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
but we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder
and no one's the killer and no one's the matyr[/center]



filler in which ivy is upset because sucky hits
like what is this
come on guys
kill that mutt
aaaaand y'all ready for her to be a complete hypocrite?

{ivy attacks the chupacabra with her flail}

[dice=200+12000]

[damage]

normal text
emphasis one.

(notes)[/color]
"words!"[/center]

[/color]

the weather report keeps tossing and turning
predicting and warning and warning of
possible leakage with news publications and possible
leakage from news tv stations, the very same morning
right next to her coffee she noticed some bleeding

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/color]
[/td][/tr][/table]
[/center][rand=99458027444779870592205068096518590476923552341765692146285437047]

[sadniss everdeen]

.CHUPACABRA.

[/size]

Death is a constant companion for the things that live here and you feel it settle on your shoulders as surely as things like life and excitement do, weighing you down and greying the world around your vision. Their talons strike true and you bleed your black blood onto the hungry ground where it sucks up your offering without remorse. Perhaps there is fear, yes, something like it for you have never truly felt it - your mind says that you do not want to die but the rest of you knows it comes as swiftly as you wish to be. (The sun does not scorch them now, but they will all fall to the might of the others within the next few days. Their bodies will too feed the earth, and you will be content.)

Your gaze settles again on the girl that pushed away your claws, lips peeling up into an angry grimace as your feet dig into the soft, soft sand, leaving deep scores in your wake as you charge for the final time.
[dice=200+2000]
[attacks Elodie, 3.5 damage]

[/size][/blockquote][rand=0767107581636504790196890396578684129720909815067003540027427734]

[Deleted]

•••
Death on two legs
You're tearing me apart
Death on two legs
You never had a heart of your own,
•••

Benat felt the sweat drip down his chest as they backed up along the steps of the giant pyramid. He watched the movements of Elodie as she thrashed about—the way her muscles knotted and gave a burst of power, without fear, toward the mongrel of a creature. For a moment he held his blowgun low, watching her. The sweat that dripped down into his eyes brought him back toward the fight. He blinked and wiped a hand across his face. Even as exciting as this is, I can’t pay attention,

[/color] Benat cleared his throat and watched as Ivy took her turn whacking at the creature. She landed a solid blow against its ribs, and the ensuing crack made him wince. He didn’t pay much attention to his footing on the steps of the pyramid as he stepped forward, looking to get a better line of sight to fire upon the chupacabra. Still barefoot—having long ago thrown away his sandals—Benat let out a yelp as his weight shifted forward.

“Oh... Shit… GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAAAY!” He wished he could have been more eloquent, if only because his arms were flailing and the rest of his body soon followed. In an instant he was head first, butt second—or as his father used to say, ass over tea kettle—and found the stone of the pyramid with his head. Tumbling downward he saw the sky, and then the gold of the stone, and then the blue of the sky yet again. Each step brought out another curse word from his lips, making him wish he hadn’t been as adventurous in climbing further up the stairs than the girls. He sputtered out a cough as he reached the bottom of the pyramid, his body bruised and his arm flayed to his side. He let out another cough, sending up a sheet of dust from his position on the ground.

“Oooh…” He let out a little whimper as he lifted his head up and looked back toward the girls. Nothing was broken—not that he could tell—thankfully none of his bones seemed broken. He managed to climb to his feet after a moment and cleared his throat. He cleared the dust off his naked chest and shorts before staring back at the creature and the girls. Almost as though he was ignoring the spectacle in front of him, Benat shrugged his shoulders. “You know, my mother always said,” He lifted up his blowgun and shook it at the beast. “That I had one of the hardest heads in District Eleven. I guess she wasn’t jokin’, ‘cause I didn’t even feel a lick from those stairs.” Part of that was a lie, his head throbbing from the tumble, but he wouldn’t admit that now. He took a sideways stance and lifted up the wooden shaft of his weapon.

He pointed out to the creature, as the ballplayers of old would, directing where the pitch would land. Except this wasn’t the tell of where a ball would be headed, not like when he would play stickball with the other boys of District Eleven; here he was marking where he’d be striking the beast and sending it straight back to the hell that it had come from. For as poor as Benat had been at taking out the other tributes, he could rest assure that he wasn’t so bad at taking out mutts. First a giant lizard, then the deer—now some creepy, crawly, two legged dog that liked to pick on girls. Benat Izar, Muttslayer[/color] had a certain ring to it, too.

“He winds up…” Benat imagined his brothers watching him in front of the television. He could imagine that Deval had laughed at his fall, snickering that he was foolish and just like always, while little Sampson was horrified at his lack of grace. But here—oh, here was the real Benat Izar.[/color] The boy that could take lemons and make lemonade, and then lemon cookies, and maybe lemon squares. Yessire, maybe he wasn’t the most powerful of the tributes—no twelve getter, no fire tosser, no girl with a flail—but Benat had a way of turning his luck around. “Runners on first and second, the crowd is breathless…” He licked his lips, watching the creature as he twisted his hands around the shaft of his blowgun. He took a few steps, then broke into a jog, before he was full tilt, running toward the Chupacabra. “And heeeere’s the pitch…”

[Benat uses his blowgun like a baseball bat on the Chupacabra]
[dice=200+7000]
[result:7071 -- Bruised Left Shin -- 2.0 damage]

He felt the thin smack into the Chupacabra and snarled. He gave a good hard hit against the thing's leg, and then another shove with his fist. He grunted as he pushed the thing down off the steps, to send it tumbling down toward the base of the pyramid much like he had moments ago. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him as he stood, breathing heavy, mind racing. He looked up with a grin at the other girls before lifting up his blowgun. “AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!” Benat pumped his fist into the air in celebration. “Home run and a knock out, eh ladies?”
[/justify][/blockquote][/size][rand=349922242108732461655094623565673815140348020941026999428931158036]

[arx!!]

Look at me. You may think you see
who I really am , but you'll never know me.
Every day it's as if I play a part.
Now I see if I wear a mask I can fool the world,
But I cannot fool my heart.

Everything is hurting. The cut in my forearm is dripping a trail of blood down my arm and into my palm and onto my spear which is already thoroughly covered in blood. My ankles burns from all the "climbing" I've done. My shoulder is - as per usual now - on fire and pain is shooting through it with each little beat of my heart. My feet burn as I walk slowly down the stairs back to the bottom where Benat is cheering over the beasts dead body. I laugh because it's better than the alternative - crying. I force myself to smile, but the exhaustion eats it away into a frown so fast that I'm not sure my allies even saw it. My paintbrush is gripped in my hand next to my spear, and as my blood soaks the tip a deep red color, I can't help but watch it glisten in the sun. My eyes aren't on my feet anymore - hell, my feet aren't even moving anymore. I am stuck between one step and another, my toes curling around the edge of the stair I am on, as I stare at the bloody paintbrush and spear in my hand. The shiny gold backdrop behind me threatens to blind me, but I don't care. If my blood on the tip of a paintbrush was the last thing I saw, I think I could live with that. I bend at my knees, slowly, calculating. The layer of grime and dust and now a bit of blood here and there on the sparkling fixture doesn't take away from it's brilliance. I have never had a richer canvas than this right now. This canvas made of solid gold. I put down my spear, growing anxious with each passing moment that I am letting my arm swish aimlessly. I never really know what I am going to paint when I first press my brush to a surface. And I guess I think that's the best part about it - the surprise at the end.

I don't care if they think I am crazy. And I know I must look at least a little bit crazy right now. Dabbing the tip of my token into a puddle of blood at my feet, crouching like a child who is investigating an ant hill or digging for buried treasure in the middle of a strange place after fighting a strange animal and saying some strange things. My hair is sticking ever which way, my shirt soaked through with sweat, blooding from my arm making puddles down the golden staircase. And somehow, I still feel perfect.

I'm not breathing. All I do is let my hand (my weak hand even) take it's course, using my blood to paint. My vision starts to blur at the edges and I think I am swaying. Tipping. Maybe, falling? I lean back, falling against the stairs, staring into the sky - staring directly into the sun, the brightest star in the sky. I laugh. I wonder if they will ask me what it is that I painted. Or maybe they will ask me why I painted it. Or what the hell is wrong with me, am I okay, do I need something ... Or maybe they don't notice at all. Either way, I won't say a word to them. Because I shouldn't have to explain what becoming myself looks like. And then I'm shooting up, throwing my hands in the air, calling out to Benat and Ivy as I begin to take the steps two at a time.

"Let's go celebrate at the top, shall we?"

[Flees. First-aid on herself. I think that's all? xD]

I am now in a world where I have
to hide my heart and what I believe in,
But somehow I will show the world
what's inside my heart
And be loved for who I am.

[florentine, d4b ❁]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i46.tinypic.com/1e3uyx.jpg); width: 498px; padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px;][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] ivy soren.

[/font]

we keep on paying those freaks on the tv
who claim they will save us but want to enslave us
and sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
but we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder
and no one's the killer and no one's the matyr[/center]


I am thankful for the solid ground that rests beneath my feet. (The beast is dead and we are still breathing.)[/color] My allies have both taken falls down the steps of the pyramid before us - soon I will show them that when you are Ivy Soren, no prospect is too steep[/color]. Their bruises and cuts are minor, and the creature barely laid a finger upon our sunburned skin. It feels as though each step I take across the scarlet sand is easier, my body growing lighter as evening falls. The sun drifts carelessly backward[/color], it's rays fanning out behind the golden shape to create an illusion of a great glowing mass. It shimmers, a clear contrast with the sky. (Never did we see anything like this back home, and even I cannot argue with it's beauty.)

For a moment, I ponder the times I spent perched on the fence in District Nine, looking out over the old hunting grounds and imagining the world ten years back. The pyramid is almost certainly artificial, built simply for the Games themselves[/color], and yet I cannot help but entertain the idea that it is hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions of years old. (Surely something this magnificent holds a story that is bigger than the Capitol, bigger than us?) I roll my eyes at myself, surprised that my thoughts are so petty. What does it matter, after all, if the hunk of stone before me materialised moments before I laid eyes on it? Either way, I intent to climb it. I may as well see the entirety of the Games I'm about to win.[/color]

normal text
emphasis one.

[/color]
(notes)[/color]
"words!"[/center]


{ivy uses first aid on herself for -3 damage
ivy used medical plants on herself for -2 damage
ivy flees the fight}


[/color]

the weather report keeps tossing and turning
predicting and warning and warning of
possible leakage with news publications and possible
leakage from news tv stations, the very same morning
right next to her coffee she noticed some bleeding

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/color]
[/td][/tr][/table]
[/center]

[Deleted]

•••
Death on two legs
You're tearing me apart
Death on two legs
You never had a heart of your own,
•••

Life was a lot better winning, that much was certain. Building something up, getting to the top of the pyramid, knocking down those that were in the way—now, that was a lot better of a feeling than the loss Benat had become accustomed to in the arena. Sweat dripped down his sides as he stood looking out at the great expanse in front of him. It felt safe; at least, for another day, they wouldn’t have to worry about poison or flaming arrows. They’d taken down some horrible beast and they were at the top of the world—or rather, the one that had been created to trap them inside. He narrowed his eyes and stared out into the distance, taking view of the cornucopia and the buildings in the distance. He blinked, hearing the familiar crack of what he thought a cannonshot.

Eleven. The number floated around in his head as he stood. Just ten more people, and he could wander back home, through the corn fields and up to the creek. He could sit at the long wooden table and swallow down sweet potato with some hardtack, all while his father smoked a pipe and his brothers chattered about nonsense. Just to sit at that table again, what he wouldn’t give for five more minutes with the rest of them. He’d have never guessed how much he would have missed it, even the lame jokes his brother Sampson would tell, or the dour little scowl that Deval would have. But he ached to see them again, his heart beating a little faster as he imagined what kind of welcome they’d give if he were to return home with a laurel on his head.

Maybe it was his hunger, or the lack of sleep for the four days he’d spent wandering the jungles of this place, but Benat was starting to imagine himself with a chance. The wind crept up on him, blowing his curly brown hair into his face. Stupid, he could see his brothers saying, Don’t count your stalks before the end of the season. Getting cocky and thinking that he was a champion, or something special, that was just asking to be killed. Still, it was nice to think that in a few short days he’d gone from a laughingstock to one of the top half of the contenders in the arena. While the rest of them played out their parts—the dramas unfolding in their minds, the memories of old flooding back into them, making the scene of death and carnage harder to take—Benat had felt the sand shift underneath his feet.

-WIP WIP WIP-

[Benat celebrates his victory by:
-Eating his Snapping Deer Meat
-Performs first aid on himself for -3
-Uses his needle & thread for -5
-Uses 5ft of bandages for -1
-His total damage is now 4
-Benat flees]

[/size]