s a m e story n e w chapter {Atherians vs. 2 appa}

[[nyte]]

watch the world burn
0.0

I am numb. My feet glide across the ground, a sick squelching reverberating about the arena from last night's rain as my alliance approaches. My hand sways idly by my side, the girl, Magenta's, fan clutched tightly within. The anthem last night was nothing less of painful. To see the face of the girl I'd killed broadcasted in the sky as my alliance huddled together attempting to coax ourselves into an uneasy sleep.
 
"How do you deal with it?" I turn to Soap, my voice cracking. "I... mean." I shake my head, eyes darting away from the boy who was only a year my elder. The guilt was eating me alive. The feeling of Magenta going limp under my blade still caused my hand to quiver in cruel anticipation. I didn't want more death. I didn't want to kill anyone else.
I don't regret what I did. Throwing myself so willingly into the arena. What I did was not for the girl, who I knew nearly nothing about, apart from her name. I did it for me.

I killed that district nine girl for me.

The wave had taken us all by surprise. A once peaceful sleep interrupted by a harsh torrent of water. It filled my nose and throat, wrapping around me like death itself. I was sure karma had come back to bite me in the ass. That my canon would thunder across the sky for something as utterly stupid as drowning.

But here I am.

Lyric Woulf has lived to see another day.

"You again." I see them approaching, gliding through the air like lazy kites. They bore a close resemblance to the one in which we had fought so long ago.

Only my second day in the arena.

The Lyric then seems like a blissful dream. Concerned only with what horror lies ahead of her, and not the horror that haunts her in her dreams. She hadn't seen what I've seen, and done what I've done. I don't envy her, nor pity her. I simply cannot feel anything for the girl who threw herself into the arena on a whim. Because she felt as though the life she had was not worth living.

"We've got company guys." I grimace and lunge out at the first one I see.


[attacks appa 1-razor fan]
iE4lCZY9knife

attacked Appa 1: shallow cut on neck -4.0

knife

[Stare]

{ chapter the thirteenth }
0.0

how can i learn how to trust you?
hiding away, how to get though
no, i can't take it, i can't take it
the devil, it keeps, the devil, it keeps it all

I see her face projected against the stars long after we have left her blood behind. I didn’t speak with her back in the Capitol. I can’t even remember her name. I add her to the list, though, of the many people who now hate me, along with the rest of her alliance. My arm protests with jolts of pain that almost blind me when I lay down, but Lyric and Soap healed it well and the bleeding has stopped. I just have to hope now that it doesn’t become infected. If I’m lucky, I’ll be dead before it has time to.

I can see the stars from where I stretch out upon the ground. My everything aches, muscles sore and skin bruised, so I trace patterns in the projected sky in order to distract myself. There were people back in Eight who claimed they could read the stars. When Nora and I went out into the fields, we pretended we were like them, pulling stories from the pictures we saw. She was far better at it than I was, spinning tales of great men conquering monsters and then throwing their remains to the heavens. I try to remember some of them as I pull Teddy from my pack and tuck him under one arm, my eyes fluttering closed.

I fall asleep a child, and I awaken a monster.

When my eyes flicker open, I’m angry. My body thrums with rage, every inch of me suddenly alive with the fire that has only ever been there during fights. My fingers curl in alarm, teeth gritting against the urge to grab my axe and lash out at something. I rise slowly, glancing at the others. There was once a time when I was preparing myself mentally to kill them in their sleep, before the Games began. Everything has changed. Now I fight for their lives not because I have to but because I want to. I’ll go to hell for all the sins I’ve committed in the Arena for them and for myself, but I’m not alone in my crimes.

I guess we’ll go to hell together, then.

We keep moving. It seems that’s all we ever do. Keep moving. Keep stumbling upon new threats, new killers. New things we have to murder. We never can catch our breath for very long, and those heartbeats once filled with laughter and distractions are now thick with darkness and a deep mistrust of any joy we may experience, however fleeting. The Gamemakers have ensured that our hearts harden over into something colder, stronger, and I’ll never forgive them for it. Perhaps I deserved such a punishment but my family did not. It makes me angrier than ever because I know there is nothing I can do about it. Soap, Lyric, Claude - they all belong to them. The Gamemakers can take them away from me just as easily as they took my arm.

I find myself running my nails down the pads of my fingertips, swinging my wrists around, chewing on my tongue. I’m restless, anxious, the lack of release for my newfound anger eating me alive on the inside. I need a drink. My dreams have been becoming more haunting, with the four of us growing up together, sharing childhood memories, enjoying each others’ company until we grow old and die. There’s always alcohol in them somewhere - we’ll be sharing drinks at a bar, or out partying late. Last night I dreamed that Claude carried a very, very drunk Lyric home while Soap and I sang off key behind them. It’s maddening, thinking of all the things that will never be entwined with the remedy I’ll never have. There’s only one other thing that comforts me like the bottle, but it scares me just as much as it heals me.

I’m angry, and I crave blood.

They come like a flood, like a pair of summoned soldiers. I blink at their presence - don’t they know to avoid us? don’t the realize that we killed their kin? - but then I understand. They’ve been sent to challenge us. We are the champions, the group that has managed to overcome every obstacle thrown our way. They want to see us crumble, to see us fall. They want to see us shed blood or die ourselves. They want us to fight.

And, like a good little puppet, I will obey.

The anger courses through me and I leap forward, suddenly not entirely myself. My mind goes blank, leaving plenty of room for instinct. Survive. Protect. Kill. When my dad would come home in a drunk rage, I would stand between him and my sisters. I do the same now, positioning myself in front of my allies and widening my stance. This is my family and these beasts will not take it from me. Not now, after I’ve lost an arm for them. After I’ve realized just how far I’ll go to save them.

One comes near and I bear my teeth, fingers tightening their grip around my axe. I may be missing a limb but I am far from weak - every part of me screams at the sweet release as I launch myself toward my target and swing my weapon around, seeking blood.

SAVANNAH attacks APPA 1 with AXE
qghE8NgKaxe

my heart is a worthless game
what the hell you expect me to say
when i can't take it, i can't take it
the devil, it keeps, the devil, it keeps it all

attacked Appa 1: deep gash on forehead - 9.0
"maybe I want to fight."

axe

[Kire]

Claude Aeger
0.5 damage

I sit around and think about
All the times we shared
I wonder what you dream about
Where you go and have been

I stare up at the sky as the girl that Lyric just killed flashes across the sky. Savannah, Lyric, and Soap are all ok. We are safe. I was worried for the most part about Savannah and Lyric, but they are much better than I will ever be. I have always been useless to them. The sound of waves crashing into the sand. This was normal for water. Everyone fell into an uneasy sleep that night with the death of the District nine girl on Lyric's hands.

The next morning, the wave came and surprised everyone. It had been peaceful and calm, until the wave hit. The thrashing and current of the wave pushing and moving me. I watched as K screamed a sickening scream as the water pulled him under. I soon went under, but then the water died down, setting us in a whole completely new area. A wind blew across and I already felt myself shivering in the wind. Wet clothes and wind does not mix well. K got up and begin walking around and looking at the bent trees. A smirk coming to K's lips. "This place is relaxing. Can we build a hammock here?" I just shake my head and continue watching everyone.

Then Lyric yelled out something. The next thing I knew we had some company. The creatures glided slowly towards us. The looked exactly like the creatures before that we had fought. I watched as Lyric swung at the thing. Savannah did the same and attacked the same beast. They looked like they had it handled, so I just lunged at the other one with my weapon.

(This is a very basic post. Kire will flesh this out later.)

You broke my heart
You broke my heart again
And now I know, if this is a test
I'm gonna fail it my best

J_qa0GL7sword

attacked Appa 2: Severed Right Arm at Shoulder - 10.0
OOC notes

sword

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Soap O'Leary
0.0

They don’t realize it, but I’m the first one awake in the morning.

There’s something about this place that I like. I can’t quite put my finger on it - it’s nothing like the factories of Nine. I think I remember hearing that outside all the big fences they put up the water is crystal clear, but I never really experienced it firsthand. The only streams I see are the ones along the sides of the roads when it rains too much, thick with sludge and mud and who knows what else. The water here isn’t the cleanest, either, and even after being cleaned it tastes pretty disgusting even by my standards. I still like it here, though, despite the blood that’s been stained and the fact that somewhere along the shore Sav’s arm is still lying in a pool of blood. We weren’t in good shape when we went to sleep last night - I could tell Lyric was upset about the girl she killed, and Claude seemed to be having his own problems, as well. The sound of the water helped me fall asleep, though.

WIP WIP WIP interaction between Soap and Lyric goes here

I feel almost sad when we leave. None of us talk much. I want to reach out to them, to tell them things will be okay, but none of them seem in the mood for talking so I decide to deal with the silence for the time being.

That’s a good thing, as it turns out, because I hear them before anyone else. My chin rises up slightly, eyes sweeping all around us. I hear footsteps, see fleeting shadows.

Others.

I almost want to laugh when I see them. Those huge, flying creatures. I guess one wasn’t enough this time. I remember the damage it did, though, and I don’t hesitate even for a moment.

The others attack, and I follow suit.

Attacks Appa 2 - thrown axe
r1fHeFTBthrowing axe
10100 -- Shallow Cut on Stomach -- 4 damage
(Thrown Axe)

attacked Appa 2: shallow cut on stomach - 4.0 (thrown axe)
OOC notes

throwing axe

[shrimp]

They just wanted to have some fun.

Young and naive, perhaps it would have been best had the two decided to wander off near the cornucopia, or closer to their mother. But as adolescent appa, Blueberry Spicehead and Juniper Lightningbug just wanted to explore, to see the world with their own two eyes, as small as it may be. After all, they had been released from the shining boxes with bars that looked to nowhere for only a few days now; why not absorb as much as they could while their hearts were fiercely beating?

They should have noticed the four as they attacked.
They should have cried out for their mother.
They should have done something.

But alas, that was not to be. Blueberry felt it first, the searing hot flash of pain sinking into her skull, the cut almost lacerating her neck. Juniper however, lost a limb, flailing about and falling to the ground. They wanted to go home, they've had enough of this adventure.

And so, they attacked with what strength they had left

Blueberry Spicehead
[attacks Lyric - blunt]
BHe1zkw1blunt
7060 -- Bruised Left Hand -- 2.0 damage

[attacks Savannah - claws (knife)]
knife
2173 -- Shallow Cut on Right Hip -- 3.5 damage



Juniper Lightningbug
[attacks Claude - claws (knife)]
knife
2140 -- Deep Gash on Left Bicep -- 8.0 damage

[attacks Colgate - blunt]
blunt
7096 -- Bruised Left Shin -- 2.0 damage

blunt�knife�knife�blunt

[[nyte]]

Act One: Scene Five
2.0

"Fuck you!" the profanity flies off my tongue at rapid intervals. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" I am at a loss for words yet my lips cannot seem to stop. The adrenaline courses through me like ice through my veins. 

In this moment I have never felt more alive

The silver razors are now lined with blood, the shallow mark I had traced across his hide beginning to well with congealing blood. I'm caught between utter disgust and morbid fascination. Stop it. I feel as though the winds which glide through the plains have drug a hand across my cheek. You aren't like them. The ones who thirst for a bloodstained battlefield. 

"Then what am I." I might as well be Claude, muttering  to myself in an almost hysteric manner. Perhaps I am on the brink of insanity, the cruel games played by the capitol slowly tearing my mind away from my body. Or perhaps I am doing what I've always done, what I've taken pride in myself for doing since my earliest days. 

I'm thinking. 

You're an actress. Plain and simple. I was someone who pretended to be what I was not. When I volunteered I pretended it was to save a stranger. Lie I pretended that I didn't care what my own fate was. Lie.  I wanted to be known as the martyr, who saved a little girls life. To wipe away all the deeds which I had done. Lie. 

I wanted fame.

And now I must pay the price. 

[attacks appa 1-razor fan]
m1ahBcP4knife

attacked Appa 1: two severed fingers on right hand -9.0

knife

[Stare]

{ chapter the thirteenth }
3.5

i'm building an empire
i'm building with my body and soul
i'm building an empire
so little time and so much to do

I am a sinner, right down to my bones.

Lucy had a story about pirates that I would sometimes read aloud to her. I always had to over the more violent bits for her sake, but in truth it was one of my favorites. It wove a tale of men who didn’t have to obey others or worry about the sins they committed. They were free to roam the world without anyone to stop them, and perhaps the romantic idea of having no strings tugging at you from a higher power was what pulled me in. They had no regrets and worried only for themselves and their crew. It was their way. I’m told that they actually existed, a long time ago. They were violent, bloodthirsty creatures, but they were free. The killing is easier, I think, when you disguise it with good intentions.

I am burdened by the blood on my hands and the prizes within them. I wonder why I don’t feel more guilty. Should I be burning with shame? Crying for the blood lost in this Arena? I’m not sorry, though. I’m not sorry for the pain that I’ve almost certainly caused. I’m not sorry for those who fell. In my mind they have become less than human, simple things that stand between me and my goal of survival. My sisters almost certainly stare at the television screen in horror, not recognizing the girl I’ve become. I hardly know myself anymore. I know this, though: I am growing into something dangerous. Something the Capitol won’t control. And I know better than anyone else that those spiraling into the kind of chaos that I am are not punished with death.

They are burdened with something far, far worse.

Life.

The strange thing is, I never meant to be a monster. I only ever wanted to protect the ones I loved, but perhaps that desire became selfish when I refused to just stand by and take their punishment. Children should listen their parents. It’s something I heard on occasion at school, but after my mom died I always ignored it. My dad was an alcoholic who didn’t know what he was saying half the time. I thought I was justified in ignoring him. Children should not be violent. After I while I got tired of being his punching bag. I got tired of always being afraid. That was when I started hitting him back. And that was when the true danger started - when the line between what was justice and what was revenge blurred until it vanished completely. Children should know the difference between right and wrong. I am no hero - I’m a monster who has lost her sense of morality.

As I lash out again, I try to understand why I don’t care as much as I used to.

SAVANNAH attacks APPA 1 with AXE
wmYbdARGaxe

i must say
this is as good as it gets
so why are you wasting
your blood your sweat your tears

attacked appa 1: deep gash on right forearm - 8.0
OOC notes

axe

[Kire]

Fools
8.5 damage

The only way to stay true
And this is my destiny
And there is no helping me
Life is bittersweet

The cursing and screaming we are all doing is making my ears ring. The wind adds even more ringing. I can't stand all of it. Then the mutt slashes at me. The claws digging into my arm. I feel my adrenaline begin to rush. I quickly pull back now. I am useless. Everything I do is not enough. I need to do something. I need to beat something. I need to show my worthiness. I hear Lyric's cursing. I hear K snorting at me. This was insane. I'm insane. No one needs me.

My body begins to know what to do. I arch my foot prepared to move forward. My hand clutched on the sword's handle. I stare at where I want to hit. The beast is pretty fast, but I'm ready. I have seen how this thing attacks. I know I can injure it. I know I can do this. "Fuck this beast!" My voice yells under the wind. I lunge for the beast and attack it with my weapon. I'm insane. Lyric's insane. We're all insane. I'm the worst though. My insanity goes to the core. I was insane before and still am. I will never be sane and normal. I am insane for a reason. There's always a reason why stuff happens. My insanity's purpose is here and now. I will defeat this monster.

(This is a very basic post. Kire will flesh this out later.)

Things change
Although they seem the same
And there'll be no more
Waiting for your lies

kVVdbC2Gsword

attacked Appa 2: Block - 0.0

sword

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Soap O'Leary
2.0

The world spins as I look up at the flying creatures - two of them this time - as I try to make sense of which way to throw. Aiming at the sky is much more difficult than throwing my weapons horizontally, but at least I can reach the damned things with a throw, whereas my allies struggled that last thing.

Before the Games, I'd never seen animals like this before. Maybe they have similar beasts in District Ten, where they raise animals to be used by the Capitol, but in Nine? No creature is going to venture close to the clanging sounds of the factories, especially once they get a whiff of the melting plastics. But there used to be animals in Nine, and I guess there still are, but you have to venture out into the forests to do it, and I haven't had time for that in years.

I remember going out there with my parents, back when I was a kid. Back then, they weren't quite as hungry and frail, or maybe they just didn't seem like it because I was young and I was too naive to notice. I miss being a kid, really. 'Cause back then, the world was bright and glorious, and I could run and roll in the dirt all I wanted, and my parents would take me with them to practice the skills that have so far kept me alive in this arena. That twelve in training is a direct extension of my shining youth.

See, nobody cared about having a little dirt on their faces back then, and I loved that. I lived for the days when I could run into the woods with my parents and cover my face in mud for good camouflage. I lived for the wind in my face and the rain sprinkling in my hair and the rush I got when I released the bowstring, but then things changed.

The Capitol tamed District Nine.

But not me. Not me.

Not me.

I worked so many fucking years in that factory, I forgot what it felt like to breath fresh air. Grime from the chemicals started coating my face long after the dirt disappeared, but I couldn't bring myself to wipe it off. It was like I had given up on myself and my life and everything that made me feel like me, and the only thing that stayed the same was my family. Except that's not even true, because we got weaker and weaker as the years wore on. The day that I learned about how babies were made was the same day I marched right up to my parents and yelled at them to stop, for goodness' sake, because our family could not support another mouth to feed. It couldn't even support the mouths it had. And then I worked, and I was one of the youngest guys there, and they picked on me. Those old, grouchy men were so relentless in poking fun at me that I never stopped to think that they needed something to laugh at, that their lives were ruined when the District's industry changed, just like mine was.

They call me Soap 'cause they say I need it, but I know that isn't true now. I crave the feeling of the dirt on my cheeks, the water dripping into my eyes, the wind whispering in my ears. I take in every second of this world like a window looking into my youth, and I want it back.

I want the water, the earth, the air.

But the fire, the fight, has been here all along.

Attacks Appa 2 - thrown axe
uC5rf7DXthrowing axe
miss

Accuracy reroll:
throwing axe
10165 -- Broken Rib -- 7 damage
(Thrown Axe)

attacked Appa 2: Broken Rib - 7.0 (thrown axe)
OOC notes

throwing axe�throwing axe

[shrimp]

It hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts and although they've drawn blood the ones who walk on two legs with their shining death objects have drawn more, much more. They just want to go home, back to where their mother can comfort them with a nuzzle, where things are safe and there's no thread of death looming over the horizon.

It was supposed to be fun, it was supposed to be something new, not something final. They weren't supposed to die so young, so soon.

Blueberry narrows her eyes, letting out a deafening screech. It wasn't fair, they shouldn't be killed just because they wanted to go out on their own for once. They were just minding their own business. They're being killed for sport, just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Juniper joins her cry, their yells ricocheting through the atmosphere.

They may go down, but they'll bring whoever they can with them. Karma's a bitch.

Blueberry Spicehead
[attacks Lyric - claws (knife)]
H456YpJtknife
2123 -- Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage


[attacks Savannah - blunt]
blunt
7149 -- Bruised Ribs -- 3.0 damage


Juniper Lightningbug
[attacks Claude - blunt]
blunt
7081 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage


[attacks Colgate - claws (knife)]
knife
2062 -- Deep Gash on Left Forearm -- 8.0 damage

knife�blunt�blunt�knife

[[nyte]]

Act One: Scene Five
5.5

The cannons were hungry tonight. At least three, bounding across the entire arena with their taunting tenor tones. I can almost feel my knees shudder within their sockets, threatening to give way beneath me. I can almost see the grins spread across the capitol's face, their bloodlust sated by children's death.

And once again I am crying. Tears making their way down my face with fervent speed. Sticky and warm, burning my cheeks long since cakes with mud and grime.  

I'm scared, and sad and angry all at the same time. My conscious caught up in an inferno which has sparked anew. My head is spinning, I spew nonsense at the creature who has so cruelly hurt my friends. My family. 

And more than anything I want revenge. 
And I want it right now. 

"Stop hurting them!" A scream, shrill enough to break glass, leaves me. I want to jump onto the beast, to sink the fan into its back as many times as I could and watch it slowly sink to the ground. 


The life draining from slitted eyes, as a final, pained breath leaves it would be better than anything I could have possibly wished for. 

It's a mutt. It shouldn't have feelings, or a brain. It's a mutt. A pawn of the capitol. A pawn which has dug its claws into those I care for far too many times. 

It's a mutt that must die. 

What is this creature in comparison to the lives I have taken before. That I was the cause of a cannon which had rung out just before the days end. I took the life of a girl who just wanted to live to see another day. Who didn't willingly throw herself into the arena. 

I'm not sorry. Not anymore.

Not after she wounded Claude. Not after her alliance took something from Savannah which will never be replaced. The gap in the space between us, where her arm was supposed to brush against mine served as a grim reminder of that.

I hope they're dead. The three which fled after she died.

I hope the cannons I heard were theirs.

They deserve it.  

[attacks appa1-razor fan]
XnrbQuDrknife

attacked Appa 1: shallow cut on cheek-3.5(+1 td)

knife

[Stare]

{ chapter the thirteenth }
6.5

let your tears out, not just your fire
i will block the stampede
you and i have time on our side
reason to believe

I was thrown into the Arena to die.

My sisters wept because they knew I would not return. My father smirked because he saw my death as one less mouth to feed. As the train pulled away from the station the people of Eight, battered and broken from their days in the factories, eyed Luke and I as if we were already dead. Already worth feeling sorry for. They saw the bruises upon my skin every day, they watched the way I walked with my head held high even with a black eye. They knew. They knew how strong I had to be in order to survive the life I'd been given, but in that moment it wasn't enough. I was a delicate, fragile thing.

I'm not, though, and I'll bring them hell to prove it.

In a thousand years they will remember nothing of these days, of these moments. Even the Victors will be forgotten among the thousands of other faces lost in such a stretch of time. But I'd like to believe that they will sing of our greatness, of the blood we spilled in sacrifice for a crime that was not - was never - ours. I want them to remember the children who died so that their ancestors could go on. I want them to know of the great war fought quietly in these horrid Arenas.

It'll never happen, though, if we don't do things worth remembering. The only heroes that are truly remembered are the ones who scream greatness from the very depths of their souls. Lyric pulls from her a core a fire that rivals a dragon's breath. Claude embraces danger like the winds, subtle but always there. Soap rises like a wave, like a tsunami, sweeping in all that oppose him so that they are nothing in comparison to their greatness. My family is one that fights for all that it holds dear, and in that bravery I see honor.

I will die making sure they are remembered.

I am not a burning flame, a rising wind, or a crashing wave. I am not a hero or a warrior. I am something darker, a shadow that stains them with my selfish intentions. I will never be great. But I would go to hell for these three, whether they realize it or not. They are mine to care for, mine to protect.

And that is why, even as one of the beasts attacks me and knocks the breath from my chest, I scream when I see the other claw into Soap's arm.

For a moment, I'm sure he's lost it. I'm sure it's gone, just like mine. I stumble away from the creatures and toward him, mouth gasping for air that refuses to enter my lungs. My world swims for a split second and all I see is blood, far too much of it, blooming over his arm. "Soap," I choke out, terrified. The relief that courses through me when I see that it's still attached is nothing compared to the fury that takes control when I recognize the pain behind his expression. "You're - you're okay."

I spin on my heels, axe raised threateningly. "Bloody monsters. You don't touch him, you understand? You don't touch any of them! They're mine!"

The darkness could never capture the light for very long.

I'll never stop trying, though.

SAVANNAH attacks APPA 1 with AXE
1rfu1grRaxe

left for dead, we made it
set no sun
left for dead, we made it
set no sun

attacked appa 1: shallow cut on right thigh - 3.5 +1 (td)
ugh

axe

[Kire]

Claude Aeger
0.5 damage

I found someone else just like you
And now it's starting to unwind
All the time
We fell apart

WHAT DO WE ALL HATE?

FILLERS

WHY AM I FILLERING?

CAUSE KIRE IS IN THE CUBAS

sorry bros.

You broke my heart again
And now I know
If this a test
I'm gonna fail it my best

[attacks appa2-katana]
yeqctdxZsword

attacked Appa 2: shallow cut on back of the head - 4.5

sword

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Soap O'Leary
2.0

The only thing that keeps me from screaming out is the look on Sav’s face when she sees the monster lurch towards me. She’s got this look like hell no, hell no and even though I can feel the blood begin to seep into the cloth of my uniform, I try to not let out a single noise. Instead of crying out, I grunt and close my eyes so tight that my face wrinkles, biting my lip to keep from looking weak. I breath in once, twice, three times, then lift my head up. The ripped cloth of my uniform spills red into the dirt, but it’s nothing.

Nothing compared to losing my arm completely.

”Soap,” Sav says, looking down at the bloody expanse of my forearm. ”You’re – you’re okay.”

And I smile, holding my chin up as I glance towards the sky. ”Hell yeah, I am.” I’ve gotta look strong for them, or at least try to look like I’ve got it all together, because what else is there? If I begin to let myself look as if I’ve given up, it will become the truth. And Sav’s still fighting, god, she’s fighting like a maniac, spewing hatred towards the monsters as she strikes upward with her blade. Even with one arm, she’s still got a hell of a lot of fight. Pain cannot deter me now.

But there’s something else that’s keeping me from breaking down, something stronger than even my pride. Somewhere back in District Nine, my family is watching me take these beasts on, and they can’t bear to see me hurt. Even when I was young, my parents would worry at every bruise and scratch that appeared after my excursions in the woods, even if I didn’t cry. They cared for me and worried about me obsessively, even when I got older and started working.

I guess they conveniently ignored the fact that we were all starving, but what can you do. That’s why I’m here, that’s why I’m fighting for them, and I’ll be damned if I let them even think that I’m not going to win this. I owe them that.

Shaking the pain from my expression – forever thankful that the injured arm is not the one I throw with – I steady my arm, fingers gripping tight onto the handle of another axe as fire dances in front of my eyes. I pull back, and with practiced precision I fling my arm forward and release the axe from my fingertips.

Attacks Appa 2 - thrown axe
|tmVoYmothrowing axe
10199 -- Bruised Back -- 2.5 damage
(Thrown Axe)

attacked Appa 2: Bruised Back - 2.5 (thrown axe)
OOC notes

throwing axe

[shrimp]

They can sense it coming for them and they tremble, both out of fear and out of blood loss. They weren't supposed to leave this earth this fast, they were supposed to grow up and help the pack, become independent and strong and careful and fast, just like their father was, just like how their mother is. How will she react when her daughters don't come home today? Will she cry? Will she scream for revenge? Will she even remember them?

They're so tired, all the want to do is sleep, just let them sleep.

Blueberry Spicehead
[attacks Lyric - claws (knife)]
xKQsKQQnknife
2091 -- Shallow Cut on Right Hip -- 3.5 damage



[attacks Savannah - blunt]
blunt
7038 -- Two Broken Ribs -- 7.5 damage



Juniper Lightningbug
[attacks Claude - blunt]
blunt
7021 -- Bruised Left Foot -- 2.0 damage



[attacks Colgate - claws (knife)]
knife
2198 -- Shallow Cut on Back -- 4.0 damage

knife�blunt�blunt�knife