the truth always hurts [CHARADE] // blitz.

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It was a dull morning, to say the least. Almost all of them were for Mayson Slade. His days began as he slowly pulled himself out of bed, filled a mug with water and headed out the door to go for a long jog throughout the District. Dull. Boring. Slightly abnormal if found in any other district apart from One, Two and Four but since Mayson came from the latter, it was a sight most were used to seeing. Once finished the run, he would dive into the water furthest away from the fishing docks in order to clean off. He'd never admit that it was because he was the furthest away from the island as he could be. He'd never admit that it still haunted his every thought. No. Not even to himself. Mayson Slade, as far as he was concerned, had not attended the wedding to die for.

Ironically, many people died. Many of them were friends of Slade's. And many of them were people that he had to lead to safety. Whether he had wanted it or not, Mayson was made to be a leader for several of the survivors. Most of which were no longer alive. Which is why he blocked all of it out and tried to avoid thinking or speaking of the event. Which became difficult as many people had heard of the tragedy. It was passed off as an accident so as to not worry citizens. Most people were horrified. Especially the family members. Their relatives were now dead and instead, there was Mayson. He had returned whereas their family couldn't. So he generally tried to avoid the ones he had already learned about, so as to not bring back the memories. No matter how hard he tried though, the woman would always play the starring role in his horrid nightmares. Nyx would keep him up at night.

His past would always haunt him, that much he was sure of. But at least he knew all of it. She didn't have that privilege.


[[ooc; it's terrible, I know. I haven't used him since the island and I really need to work with his new personality a bit more. but voila!]]

[charade]

The hunt. It was always thrilling to Cap'n Kat to bring in a bounty, especially one as sought after as Slade. She and the crew of the Song of The Storm had been tracking this scallywag for near of a week, and now, they were finally closing in on his hideout. Why was he wanted? Legend had it that he was had stolen some secrets, secrets that didn't belong to him and were certain to be worth a lot in the right hands. It was possible that he even knew what had happened to the crew of the Piscatus. Wouldn't that be tale to tell?

Katrina was watching the boy from a distance with a hard look etched on her face. Almost a year since the cruise ship had vanished and a quartet of wedding guests had turned up in a small boat. Among them, her brother was not. But that was to be expected; Branden had never been a strong swimmer. What pricked her with annoyance was the flimsy story the authorites had concocted about the shipwreck. The ones that came back sure as heck didn't seem trustworthy. They seem and tired and afraid when people approached them, or otherwise non approachable.

It was annoying.

Since Mayson Slade was the only one that came outside on a regular basis, she has chosen to follow him around, until a time came when she could question him directly and alone. She waited until he had jogged past her perch on the curb and went after him, lingering behind before falling in step with him; an easy feat given her height. She spoke bluntly and to the point as he noticed her. "I'm Katrina Sykes. Your name is Mayson. I believe you knew my brother."

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[[ooc; I will make it look all pretty eventually. Too rushed right now xD I also forgot it was winter right now so let's just say this happened a bit before winter came :s?]]

His return towards his house was always a rather quick one. Taking the most direct path allowed for him to get in a few minutes before needing to head back out again for the daily amount of work. Even though the temperatures had been rather cold lately, fishing still had to be done so as to maintain the quota requested of them. It was a smart idea to bundle up before heading out as it wouldn't take long for the water to soak in through the skin and add to the cold people felt. However, today was slightly different. His path was not direct. Instead of walking along the back path towards his small home nearby the docks, he instead crossed through the town square and passed by several of the main neighbourhoods. A change of scenery was never something he would break his neck to strive for so the decision was even odd to him. Something inside just seemed to will him down that path.

And not even five minutes down it, he was approached by her. Even if he tried to ignore her, there was no denying that he had heard the name she had mentioned. Sykes. It immediately hit a chord deep within that made him stop in his tracks and simply freeze up. Branden. That had been his name. Mayson still remembered the person that this girl was talking about. He had been on the island with him, had been on the beach with him and he had almost made it out alive if not for Nyx. The scene played back in his mind, the details of Branden's death soon becoming the only thought in his mind. Which lead to the memory of Nyx's death, and finally that of Lucan. His body had been completely mangled by the boat's motor and Mayson had seen all of it. And now this girl was bringing all of that back.

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person."

[charade]

The sailed into mutineers cove silent as the grave, each crew member searching the gloom with baited breath for the prize. It was Missy Franklin who first spotted the lantern light on the shore. Cap'n Kat selected a small team of three to accompany her in the coracle, muffled oars masking their presence as they made for the single house in the cove. One way or another, she was going to get to the bottom of this. He saw them approach, and waved greeting them, but insisting that they had the wrong person and that they should look somewhere else. Oldest trick in the book.

There it was again, the look of apprehension soon replaced by something else. She kept pace with him as a hard look twisted her mouth up. "That's complete bull and we both know it. You're one of the Piscatus Four."She held out a sinewy arm to stop him dug her heels in as they both ground to a halt. " I don't like being kept in the dark. I know my brothers got to be dead since he isn't with you, but the peacekeepers explanation has got more holes in it than chunk of coral." She glared at him with all the force her five eleven frame could muster. "I want the truth."

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I had wanted to get away. It was the worst situation in my eyes. Who would want to face the sister of somebody who was dead because you weren't good enough? I certainly wouldn't. As of late, I had completely avoided any thought of Branden, Lucan or any of the others who were on that island. It was just surrounded by so much blood and gore. Because of me. I knew deep down that I had tried my best to ensure the survival of everybody that had been with me. But it wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough. And now I would have to explain to her just how I wasn't. Her arm held me in place so there was no point in running. Her words told me that there was no way I could deny this any longer. And even though the wheels in my brain were spinning as I tried to come up with a reason to not explain, I knew that I would have to tell her at some point.

"Katrina, was it? You'll have to follow me. We're not discussing it here." Part of the reason was because the story that everybody had been told was fake. But another was because the privacy would be needed. I would need to be out of the public's eye to tell her. Whether she was the one in tears or I was, being in public would only raise questions that didn't require answering. She deserves to know, Mayson. She really does. "We're going to go back to my house. I'll get you a glass of water and then I'll tell you everything you want to know."

[charade]

The bounty inclined his head conspiratorially, claiming he would tell them the secrets he had stolen if they would just him let him go afterwords. The crew looked to her for direction and she deigned to hear him out. But she made no promises. If he tried to trick her, he would suffer for it before being thrown in chains. She wasn't the only person that wanted some information out of him; she was just the first one to reach him.

Kat nodded, if he was going to take her back to his house, it meant that he had resigned himself to spilling the beans. She could understand his want to keep it on the down low, even if it annoyed her. There were plenty of other family members that hadn't gotten as far as she had with her questions. Chalk it up to a refusal to quit for any reason. She followed him back to his abode, not even bothering to give it a second glance before entering, grabbing a chair before he could offer one and plopping herself down backwards, elbows resting on the frame. He made good on the offer of water, and she held it aloft in one hand, not taking a sip from it, but holding it all the same before coughing meaningfully.

"Near as I can figure, The shipwreck story stinks. Was it rebels? A plague?"

She studied his face for any sign of emotion. "My other sisters want to know more than I do, but one's a mouse and the other'd try to get in your pants before she got any info out of you. And I'm going easy on you." she coughed a little before adding a mumbled thanks.

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Thank god I cleaned up last night. We entered into my home and she immediately took a seat and accepted the glass that I had filled with water. It was tough to figure out how to approach the situation. Yeah, you're brother got brutally murdered by some psychotic killer. But sure enough, she had said something that allowed for me to start at the beginning. "No, it was neither of those two. It had happened on the island itself. The first thing we noticed was that we suddenly stopped seeing a few guests. Nobody was really overly suspicious until the main hall burned down."

Although fuzzy, the sight of a pillar falling was obvious enough. A burst of red flames seemed to explode before my eyes. Luckily, I moved out of the way before it could claim me. To my left, a young boy that I had yet to meet pushed against a door marked with an exit sign. But as the door opened, a large fire licked through the doorway and instantly roasted him. The smell of smoke and burning flesh filled my nose right then, bringing bile up immediately. And suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm that was pulling me towards a door. Lucan had both Evelyn and I, ensuring to protect us with his large body type. But I would contribute too. Charging ahead, I threw my body at the door and knocked it right off its hinges and onto the sandy beach.

I looked up to her and prepared to speak once more.

[charade]

The captain found it easy to find the measure of a man from his pattern of speech. If a man stuttered or paused too often, he was likely not to be trusted. It he could look you in the eye and talk with even breaths, it was likely that he was telling the truth. That or he had some practice weaving a tale or two. At any rate, The captain decided to reserve judgement until he was finished speaking.

It wasn't what she had expected to hear at all. He took his time to say what little he did, but a wedding in flames was a stretch. Katrina felt a cold chill creep along her shoulders and she put the glass down. Something in his tone told her that he was just barely getting started with this explanation; though it remained to be seen if it was just another fabrication. "Go on. A cover-up for an arsonist then?"

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The girl was listening intently, clearly. Even though it would surely be depressing to hear of her brother's death, she really truly wanted to know what had happened. I would have too had I been in her position, I suppose. Seeing as how the authorities wouldn't share all of the story with the family and the public. "I wish it was that simple, Katrina. That was really just the start of it. Those disappearing people? They had all been brutally killed. By somebody on the island, obviously. For the next few days, some of us were picked off one by one. Even the bride. And then they showed up."

They had been there in the clearing when I arrived with her on my shoulders. Amadi had almost died just moments ago and the safest place now was far away from where the killer had just acted. And so I brought her to the clearing, where new guests seemed to have been. They came by boat because they were late. And one of them was Branden.

"They had shown up later than the rest of us. And at that point, maybe only ten of the original guests were alive. We ended up splitting up. And that's why I got to know your brother."

[charade]

Katrina Sykes

The man launched into a rather fanciful re-telling of one of his personal experiences, claiming that he had actually been on board the Piscatus right before it had been sunk to the briny deep. Captain Kat said nothing as the few members of her crew that had gone ashore with her gave her a meaningful look. Sharkbait and Missy both knew that the Piscatus, besides being one of the more well-known galley ships on the seven seas, had also been the workplace and home of her elder brother, Quartermaster Brand; a fine man, but a poor sailor. If Slade really had served aboard the ship, then it was probable that he had encountered Brand at least once, if he knew him at all. Which meant he'd also know what her brother's final fate was. Truly, those that kept secrets like this had a reason to seek solitude. With a grimace, she motioned for the man to continue.

He said that things had started out normally enough, but that there was talk of mutiny trickling throughout the ship. The Piscatus had always taken the time to transport civilians from one port to another; for a nominal fee of course, but the landlubbers that could afford it were given a pleasant trip to their destination. Not this time. No, the men and women in the crew were dissatisfied with the needless extravagance that the current passengers had been traveling in. The following day, some of them had gone missing, their belongings pilfered and their bodies presumably tossed overboard. Then the fires had started. A good portion of the ship had been ruined by "accidental" lantern spillage. They were forced to make port, where they met up with a couple members of the crew that had been left on shore leave. Among them was a Quartermaster by the name of Brand.

The alto in her voice dropped an octave as she commented on what Mayson had just told her. "Hmph. Told my parents forcing Branden to take a vacation was a bad idea." One of her hands started to shake a little and she forced it to stop by grabbing the back of the chair. Katrina was not an emotionless person, but she didn't believe in displaying how she felt in front of strangers. Least of all strangers like this one. She felt dismayed; She had known better than to accept the official story, but this was a bit of a stretch. A relentless killer stalking a bunch of party guests on an island? It sounded like something out of a book. And yet...she wanted to know more. Hearing this wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be; the harder part would come when she relayed this to her two sisters. It wasn't worth it to tell her parents, they had given up on Branden the first day he had failed to come back. "You said you got to know him. Guess that means he didn't die right off the bat."

"What...what happened next?"

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She's trying to hide the shaking of her hands. One thing that the island provided was the observation of the simplest of things. Anybody around me could have been a killer. One that acted fast and then disposed of the bodies in a way that lead to us finding them rather easily. Like the girl hanging from the fan above us during dinner. It was important to know how everybody felt based on how they acted. Especially when acting as the leader. If somebody was disapproving of something I did, it would be important to know why so that I could fix it. Asking them often brought up problems that didn't need to be discussed. Fights would break out and then we'd be finding ourself cleaning up bloody lips and bruises that we certainly didn't need at the time. We had a killer to deal with.

I guess this is getting to her. But she had asked for it, and so she would have to know the whole story. Unless she went running out, she would need to know. And so I continued, as she had asked. "As I said, we got split up. The new arrivals and a few of us that had survived made our way to the beach in hopes of somebody spotting us. To spare you all the gory details, let me just say that nobody did spot us." We had spent so long there. Too long for me to even remember. Who are you kidding? You remember all of it. Every single second of the day; you remember. I continued, trying to stop myself from thinking more. "Each one of us died one by one. Which narrowed down the suspects for the killer. But we really didn't find out in time."

No, we hadn't. The memories seemed fake when they came back to mind. Just so hard to believe. "He was one of the last to die. We were on our way to a boat that had been found on the opposite side of the island. And she had...found him." My voice cracked as I spoke, revealing that it was getting to me. We had grown close enough that I would consider him a friend. It was tough to see him die. "It was done fast. At least, I thought so. And after that, she was killed. By Lucan. He was the groom. Had he been just a few moments earlier, your brother would have lived." Or if you had tried to stop them. I was nearing the end of the story, wishing I had never told it in the first place.

"And then Lucan died. Right in front of my eyes. Like everybody." And that's how I ended it, looking off in the distance and trying to avoid her eyes.

[charade]

Katrina Sykes

Mutiny. Stranded. Death. Destruction.

That was the tale that the old sailor weaved. Some met their ends by pistol shot, some by saber slash. Others were drowned overboard or hung from the mast. The port was cursed, or so he said, and it had been ill of them to make their berth there. Eventually, their numbers had dwindled down to only a scant few hiding in the ruins of the dock. They wanted to make a break for the ship, and so they did, but the distraction that one of the hands pulled was not fast enough, and the evil that stalked them claimed her brother only several feet from safety. The members of Kat's crew looked to her as one, waiting with baited breath to see how she'd react.

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The sugar coated words tasted bitter in her mouth; she wanted to get to the meat of things. But he went on, quietly talking about how it went from bad to worse as the number of people on the island continued to dwindle away. Branden made it right up to the end, scant minutes before finding a boat. That's when her brother bought it from the hands of an insane young woman. Kind of ironic, seeing as how he had always been a little afraid of the fairer gender. But maybe that was just how things were supposed to work out in the crazy mixed up country of Panem, full of cliches and the suspension of disbelief. It was a chilling mixture, a tasteless cordial meant to be downed in a single gulp.

And that was that as well. Mayson stopped talking and got a faraway look into his eyes instead. Katrina sat quietly and mulled this information over in her head, wanting to believe that this young man was a stranded nutcase. But detail less and overview like though the story had been, she couldn't shake the feeling that his story had a ring of truth to it. What would he have to gain by concocting a lie? There were plenty of reasons sure, attention, a pathological inclination, or just to screw around with her head. But if any of those were the case, then why did he, like the other three survivors, keep to himself? Why did he invite her back to his house to tell her? Wondering briefly if the events he described were themselves meant to be concise to not spare her the gore like he claimed, but to spare himself from having to relive it, Katrina sighed softly and slumped a little in the chair.[/color]

"Wrong place at the wrong effin time."

She rubbed at her temples before giving the boy a look. "You know this is a hard thing to believe. I don't know if its true or if you're crazy. Heck, you could be the murderer in your little tale for all I know. But... thanks. It's... It means a lot. Knowing."
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Well surely we all had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. For whatever reason, Nyx had some screwed up urge that she decided to deal with on young - and some old - people that were pretty damn innocent. Had we denied the invitation or simply missed the boat, there may have been far less deaths and certainly less pain. In fact, the majority of me had regretted ever sending out my acceptance to the future Hale family. Obviously. Most people would much rather prefer to not see brutal murder right in front of their eyes. Very similar to the Games in that way. Although we still had people that would throw their life away just for the chance at eternal fame and riches if all they had to deal with was killing twenty three other tributes or at least being the direct or indirect reason for them being dead.

With the wedding, there was absolutely no benefit I gained from going. Lucan was a man who, although I grew to respect and appreciate and love in a way, I barely knew before leaving on that voyage to Piscatus Island. Spending only a minute or two a day communicating with one another was all it took for him to invite me to the day where he would elope with the love of his life. And yet he certainly did not act as if he was completely ready to commit himself to one person and one person only. Flirting was something I was fairly capable of picking up on and there was no doubt that he was attempting it on me. As I was flirting with his sister who was flirting with other guests. It was confusing enough in the first place without a serial killer needing to be there.

But part of her certainly believed that there was a chance of me producing this story just so I could get her off my back. After all, she had said there was a chance at me being a mad man. Possibly even the murderer. Firstly, there was a huge difference between being mad or crazy and being a liar. Even if I told the story as truthfully as I could, that didn't say that I was not in any way losing my hold on reality. I could even admit it. And being the murderer was an almost sickening accusation despite her probably not intending for it to be meant that way. "I wish that I was lying to you. Really do. And I wish there was something else I could give you to explain why or how. I've been wondering the same thing for quite some time myself."