we all fall (dead) - {feast} {day five}

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

It was too slippery.

Between the blood and the ice, I couldn't do it, and that fucking pissed me off. Out of everything that I've done, this was the worse. People are probably laughing at me right now. Making fun of me because the damn pillar won. I fucking dare them. My mind races. Brute man is dead. He's gone from the games. Free from what's surrounding him, and now the only thing standing in my way of total victory is the few tributes left standing.

BOOM!

Another cannon blasts through the arena, and laughter burst from my lips knowing that another tribute fell, but when I turned around looking towards the people left, the one person on the ground wasn't what I thought. Tree man. My heart sinks into my chest as loud roars burst through my lips. Anger. Rage. A bull charging at the fucking flag dancing before it. That's what I am.

The burn out kid kneels down beside him, and for the first time I have no idea what to feel as people start running away. I could run. Could escape, but that's not allowed. I'd only look like a coward because in the end that's all that fucking matters. Running away isn't an option, and I know based on the people fleeing they didn't kill him. The one person that catches my attention is his district partner standing over him.

"Go! Run! Don't make me kill you!" My words directed at the kid from three, and he's on his feet moving. Running away from this massive blood field. He's moving towards me, and he places a hand on my shoulder. One that's sincere, and for a moment I allow myself to feel. To push away the anger raging throughout my entire body. "Don't take this the wrong way but I hope we don't see each other again. But do take care of yourself so I don't have to worry." All I can do is nod my head, and he's gone. My eyes shift back towards the girl. Red spots flash before my eyes. My head throbs with each heartbeat. I don't understand her. She killed him.

She thinks she can kill her district partner and get away with it. Nothing standing in her way of attacking anyone else in the game, and spilling her blood might be worth it. Making sure she never sees the light of day again, but that's not on my mind. Torturing her. Peeling her skin from her body. Making sure that her entire body hurts. I want to hear her scream as the life flies away from her body. Tree man might've killed the girl from home, but she took away the only piece of home she had.

It pisses me off beyond belief.

Climbing this stupid pillar.

I grab a hold of one of my throwing axes. I know what to do. I've done it many times before. It's time to feast. It's time to make people realize that I am the much better being than Chaske ever could be. I'm the one that will live on forever especially when he parishes.

A large grin spreads across my face as loud laughter flies from my lips.

She wants a fight. Let's give her one.

{table by zoë}

Chaske attacks {Margaret} | throwing hatchet
N9WdFFIjthrowing axe

[result: 10125 -- Deep Gash on Chest -- 9.5 damagethrowing axe

[Python]

[presto][/presto]

ellexias

i won't compromise
i won't live a life on my knees
you think i am nothing
i am nothing

She didn’t kill him.

A cloud of mist hovered in front her chapped lips, laced with particles of relief and exhaustion. Her ice pick had skimmed his canvas and left an innocent marking, a scratch among scratches. It wouldn’t bleed him dry. She had aimed high and low for vital points – the neck, the skull, the chest, the spine, but perhaps her will was as weak as her thrust. Her subconscious was a hindrance because she knew she didn’t want to kill him, even if it was her motivation to put one foot in front of the other. She wanted to avert him from Marchello, to save his life for another miserable day. Yet her steel wouldn’t penetrate. It scratched like a kitten’s claw, and that wouldn’t truly stop him.

Lexi whirled against the wind to try her luck again, but fate snatched her second chance and bathed the snow in scarlet. The boy had been speared through the abdomen by a girl whose name she couldn’t remember – something with an M. The steel was buried so deep that she couldn’t imagine a single organ having been spared by its bite. He would be dead within moments. Eyes wide and alarmed, she backed away, ice pick gripped in defense in case she was somebody’s next victim. The fresh corpse detached itself the spear with a grotesque squelch, gravity taking its toll on the aftermath. A cannon confirmed the third death of this feast. She found Marchello a moment later. There was a plea in his eyes.

”Can we leave?” She hooked her arm around his and nodded. She didn’t want to see anything else either. She didn’t want anything else to happen at all. This was enough, there was no reason to keep fighting in a big cluster. It was riskier for all three of them. One of the tributes was still throwing hatchets, and she would not be a piece of that crossfire. It landed in the other killer’s chest instead. Heartbeat leaping, she turned around and stared leading Marchello away from the fray. ”She’s climbing,” Lexi huffed in response, glancing back only for a moment to ensure that Katelyn hadn’t broken her leg from a fall. She was still trying to find a grip, still trying to scale the slippery pillar for its treasures. Would she understand that Lexi and Marc had to depart? It was too dangerous.

”We’ll catch up with her later,” she said, yet she bit her lip afterwards. She didn’t know if it was true. How many tributes were left after this repeat Bloodbath? Ten as of last night. Now there were seven. If they remained a trio, that was one group of three and one group of four assuming there were no stragglers. Groups were a danger. The game makers would pin them against each other if they dared try to keep their alliances glued. It meant that this could’ve been the last time they ever saw Katelyn, yet she wasn’t turning around to say goodbye or catch her if she fell. She was just running.

It was the first time she had run from anything.


[Lexi assists Marchello to flee uses f/a on him]

i hear god's whisper
calling my name
it's in the wind
i am the savior

words: 522, graphics: rook
theme: god's whisper by raury

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

"We don't want to survive... we want to l i v e."

There were no words to fully describe the feast. Katelyn had always viewed them as being chaotic like the bloodbath, but actually being in one showed her that chaotic was the wrong word for it. Personal? That seemed more like it. It wasn’t a frantic lashing out as twenty-three other tributes hectically dashed around, no, feasts were calculated. The girl from five had struck the first blow, and everyone had followed suit as the battle lines were drawn. Both careers lay dying or dead, but blood was still being spilled. Seven was coming for Marc, but with a sickening squelch a spear sunk deep into his stomach, courtesy of his district partner no less.

Katelyn gaped in horror. Killing your own district partner was considered by many to be an unthinkable act, second only to killing your own sibling. Yet another canon fired and Katelyn realized with a jolt that only six other tributes besides herself still remained alive. Three ran, having taken his spoils from the war. She caught sight of Lexi helping Marc away from the battle, the former’s words nearly drowned out by nine’s shouting, but she knew she had seen him mouth her name. A trio of bloodied dead bodies lay on the ground before her; each brutalized to their deaths. As always, she needed to follow the pair from six, but...it was clear that the gamemakers intended for tributes to climb the pillar, but only one had succeeded. It was time to bring that number up to two.

Chances were that the bags were decoys filled with traps, but if there was something up there that could help her, or her allies; no, her friends, then maybe it was worth the risk. Nine threw another axe ax, hitting the remaining seven directly in her chest, which meant that those two were occupied; and five was still struggling to get down from the pillar. Kate took a deep breath as the pillar loomed overhead. Was that what the games were about? Appeasing the gamemakers? Katelyn felt she owed it to herself to try. The Capitol had rewarded Marc’s kill by giving them all tar after all, who knew what they'd do if she took the bait?

Taking one more look at her allies receding forms, Katelyn stifled a shudder and ran for the ice. It was a much harder then it looked, and suddenly she had a modicum of respect for the girl from five for making it up there. The pillar was slick and handholds were nonexistent. If she wanted to get up there, it was going to take a supreme effort.

-Katelyn attempts to climb the pillar-
_KR5Adql1-3

[presto]

We fall apart, to get back up
We learn the rules to just get by,
that's not enough

[/presto]

[googlefont="Montez:400"]1-3

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

pixie ruined | district five | 69th hunger games

My hold gives way, and I can feel my feet slipping in rapid succession, and with frantic mind and action I pull myself back to the top of the pillar, only exhaling when my entire body has lain back under the comfort of solid ground. There was a distinct challenge in bringing myself to this point, but I hadn’t imagined that doing the converse would pose any difficulty as all.

But I was unsuccessful, and though I would be content to sit here and bleed out, the thought sits in the back of my mind that I need nothing more to get down. I have to try at least try to plant my feet on permanent ground because the blood that seeps from my wounds brings about a pain I cannot bear. And though it had been safe for a moment, I can see the boy from nine attempting to scale the pillar, and sticking around to see him send me tumbling is not the way I wish to plummet into the snowy pits of death.

The ground had once been the most threatening danger, but now it speaks of comfort and consolation and I long to only make it down from here safely—and further, out of my own choice. The danger up here is too much - too much for my little frame and mind to handle. So, I try again to make it back onto the ground which has served me a frosty home for the past five days.

I swing one foot over, and though my toes scrape the ice they hold with desperation unseen previously, and with one last stable breath I bring the other over to match it, blood staining each place I’ve marked.

The pillar had been a blank canvas, and I had marred it with that which stains using the most natural shade of red. I had never longed to leave a mark noticeable, not day one and not now, and with the thought of taking my last breath whilst clinging to something more, I can feel my grip loosening, and as pleas fall from my lips—“please don’t let me die”– I can only hope that someone hears.

[pixie tries to descend the pillar again]
mcZBYmI81-3
[rip mylee's ability to roll a 3]

Kissing in the blue dark

1-3

[Deleted]

margaret

And with each pounding of her heart,
It seems that Margaret has found a new start.
Her experiences in loss and strife
Have granted her nothing more than new life.
It scares her so,
But does she know,
That this is living;
Cold and unforgiving.

They say we should strive,
If for nothing more than to be alive,
But if this grants us strife and pain,
What are we ever to gain?
Love and joy are not worth their weight in gold;
Not if you’re destined to lose your hold.

My spear pierces his stomach, and he folds like a house of cards.

And though there is no silence to be found, I could hear the gasps of horror from those around me, and as he stumbles to his knees I do the same, never letting my fingers lose grip from the hilt of my spear. Wyatt Manderson was supposed to be the saving grace from home, a token of memory of a place I wished to forget.

But he had taken away that which meant the most.

I stay in front of him, holding tightly as he chokes on the last moments of life he has left, and as his eyes struggle to remain open I speak, “You told me you lost that what you loved trying to make a statement—I guess I’m just making mine.”

His cannon sounds, and I pull the spear from his stomach.

And with it I rise to my feet, stumbling back to Lex’s body with desperation that my act of heroism has sparked life within his chest, and I fall almost as quickly as he had, and with frantic movements and shaking breaths I take hold of his shirt and tug, “Lex, I killed him. He’s gone and it’s okay now, you can come back—you have to come back.”

Tears fall—one, two— “You can’t leave me here.”

(“You can’t leave me to the silence of the night, when I would depend on your own beating heart more than my own.”)

But he has departed with the fading of his cannon, and with each passing second that follows my unanswered plea I listen, laying hopes in hearing his voice one more time.

He told me we could not do this alone, and truly we could not, but now I was managed to hold my own without his mind to match, and the thought tugs—pulls until it seems that my mind has snapped like string, and with it comes a burn in my chest, a fire that would stay lit if there was a vengeance to be found.

But I can feel nothing but my beating heart; nothing but fear.

Life and loss are one in the same, and you do not succeed in one until you complete the other. There was a reason that I was content with a heart of stone that hung heavy within my chest, for nothing left a scratch upon its surface, but to feel a pulse beneath my skin left gashes deeper than the scars left behind by the mutts from the four previous days—and that of the boy from nine, whose task of climbing the pillar was as unsuccessful as my reviving Lex.

His laughter accompanies my cry of pain, and with a tender hand I hold my chest, attempting to halt the blood that pours from the wound. But it flows from between my fingers, and as he raises another axe I take to my feet, scrambling in the direction from which Lex, Pixie, and I had entered this travesty.

I stand, and for a moment I think to raise my spear and stand for my heart and Lex’s but instead my hand falls upon the egg still in my bag, and without a second thought I grasp it gently and throw, hoping that it makes contact with the boy from nine’s flesh.

Or his dignity.

In the wise words of a tribute still in this feast: fuck that fucking bitch—mara out.
[throws egg at chaske lol]
[flees]
[takes wyatt’s axe, egg, edible plants, and helmet]
[uses f/a, n/t, and bandages on self for -9]
[eats edible plants]
[possibly more; probably not]

table by anzie

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

A storm raged on as people began running away one by one. Leaving a select few in the midst of the madness. A sea of unforgettable souls crashed around through the snow covering those around. Every hair stands on end as a howl of laughter escapes from my lips. Blood spews from her chest as the axe made contact with it. The girl from seven would pay for ending the life of her own district partner. She would suffer the torture many have willingly forced the others through. Seventeen of us are dead. Seven of us remain alive. One of the seven stands on the pillar looking down like a coward.

Blood stained snow covers the ground growing redder with each passing second as new words are created. Flesh flaps through the air with every gust of wind passing through the area. Lacerations longer than anyone could ever imagine coat the skin of those around, and with the adrenaline surging throughout my entire body, the pain on my leg was gone, but I can see the blood starting to ooze through the bandage. All the running, the fighting, everything tore the fragile skin open. Jagged edges hide beneath the bandage. I only hope an infection doesn't set in.

Maybe I'll drink it later.

The duo from six run away like cowards. They run away from the fight because apparently it's the right thing to do. Why not stand here and fight? That's what we have to do. We have to kill another. Only one beating heart will remain. Only one body will remain full of the delicious blood as the rest are buried beneath the snow as it grows brighter with every passing second. One set of lungs will expand. While the rest lay dormant in a box buried beneath the grounds of the twelve districts. The Capitol should feel ashamed of all the cowards still roaming the arena at this very second.

My eyes turn towards the girl from eleven as she runs towards the crimson pillar in a desperate attempt to climb for whatever is resting on top. All I can do is laugh harder as she fails and falls back down towards the ground. Getting up seems like a lot of work for something so delicate sitting at the top. A puny ass tribute stays there. She's not no fighter. She's a coward. A horrible excuse of a person. Someone who deserves to die. Who doesn't deserve the chance of being in the games any longer.

Perhaps she'll freeze to death.

Turning my eyes back towards seven with another axe resting loosely inside my hand, my grip slowly begins growing tighter. I'm prepared for the girl to retaliate. To put up a fight. After all, she killed him without thinking twice about it. She took his life away, and he's gone because of her. Mason is gone because of her attacking him, but she didn't get the kill, and now her friend, her ally is dead on the ground. Such a pretty face. In the end he'll only become another face in the sky.

She's turning, doing an about face, prepared to run away. Prepared to flee like the other cowards have. Only the strong stay fighting. Only the strong remain on top of the world for the rest of their lives, and no, the puny ass tribute from district five is not on top of the world. She climbed to escape death. She climbed to make sure that nobody could attack her. She climbed because she didn't want to die. Suddenly seven stops. Her hand sliding into her bag, and now is my chance to throw another axe at her. To end her life forever just as she did Wyatt, but something catches my attention. Something flying through the air.

What is that?

Something hard crashed into my skin with a deafening crack, and for a moment I think one of my bones is broken, but the insides of an egg roll down my body. Against the blood stained uniform the Capitol gave me. And I can't help but laugh. I can't help but understand the pain she must be going through, but oh boohoo. We've all lost someone in this fucking frozen hell, but it hasn't stopped me from going on. None of it has, and none of it will.

They're all a bunch of cowards. Every last one of them. All seventeen who have died. All seven who are remaining. What does it take? I'm a coward because I didn't run away, but isn't that what they want? The Capitol? For all of us to fight? For all of us to change what's truly happened? To kill each other? Seventeen cannons have sounded, and now I'm here. Three of us stand here in this feast. Three of us. The girl from eleven who just failed to climb the pillar like others have done.

The puny, stupid tribute sitting on top of the pillar.

Myself.

I want what's on top. To prove to the rest of the world, that I am the better being. That I'm the one in charge of this body. That I'm the one who doesn't deserve the life of being trapped inside the head of someone else for the rest of eternity. This is my show. My game, and it's time I play.

Placing the axe in my bag, I throw it over my shoulder before heading towards the blood stained pillar. Quickly, I wrap my arms around it and try my hardest to scale it.

I will not let some dumb pillar defeat me.

It was a success. Each foot found a place to balance my entire body. It took a lot. It made me feel strong. Like nothing was wrong. Bags reside before my eyes. Numbered, and one of them is missing. Number four. The puny ass tribute holds onto it. My eyes wide with joy as my hand wraps around bag number nine. Nine, for district nine. A large grin spreads across my face.

"Hello, little girl."

{table by zoë}

Chaske attempts to climb the pillar again
IyYH2d6m1-3
Totally claiming bag #9 1-3

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

"We don't want to survive... we want to l i v e."

Lexi and Marc were out of her sight now. For the first time since the claustrophobia inducing tube that had delivered her into the arena, she was alone. With the exception of the three other living tributes in the area, but they hardly factored into any emotion of hers except for fear of the unknown. All she knew of them was faces in the training center for the girls, and a few words about identifying plants when it came to the boy. So in truth, she was alone. The girl from seven had already fled, leaving Katelyn with the boy from nine at the base. The tang of the copper liquid that was congealing with the snow and hardening filled her nostrils fiercely, but her attention was on the other tribute.

She watched astounded as with another peal of raucous mirth, the egg covered boy from nine threw himself at the pillar and started inching his way up it. There was definitely something wrong with him, but in that moment Katelyn couldn’t help but wonder how he made made it up there. It had seemed so easy, and then so difficult, as her failure to scale it and landed her on her rear in the snow, and near a body to boot. That made two tributes at the top of the column. And perhaps that was two too many. Katelyn had never made any claims to be a hero. Or gone out of her way to be a villain. No, she had gone into the games a person accustomed to trying to help people in her own way. But the arena was a hard taskmaster that cared not.

Blood hadn’t stained her hands in four days, but they had been stained nonetheless, with the death of the girl from three. Katelyn maintained to herself that she had put the girl out of misery, that it wasn’t a real fight. Not a real kill. Discretion was the better part of valor, or so the saying went. It was too bad the saying didn’t mention what the worse part of valor was. Whatever the case, she knew that as the numbers dwindled, the chances she'd have to kill someone instead of injuring them and standing by while Lexi slew them increased. But that was a worry for later. Steeling herself, Katelyn attempted to copy the boy from nine’s technique and scale the pillar in the same way.

Sliding back down to the snow with a soft thump, Katelyn uttered a single word under her breath that said it all.

"Dammit."

-Katelyn attempts to climb the pillar-
yCalnr7s1-3

[presto]

We fall apart, to get back up
We learn the rules to just get by,
that's not enough

[/presto]

[googlefont="Montez:400"]1-3

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

pixie ruined | district five | 69th hunger games

As I scramble back from my throbbing knees to my frozen feet, a voice greets me. The wind blows in my face and the cold air forces its way through my lungs and into my respiratory system. My feet stands firmly on the pillar as I throw a shady glance over to the new figure - focusing on his eyes with my large, vulnerable spheres.

"Hello little girl."

The sound of an average voice surrounds me and removes any leftover feelings of this being a dream. Chaske Parks, the boy from nine, pierces me with his words and reminds me that I have to do what's best for me - and that is trying to make it down, and out, alive.

The logistics of the matter doesn't seem too difficult, but when it comes to putting your thoughts into action, it all becomes a thousand times harder. With the winds swirling around me - the plummeting temperatures chilling my skin and core with every move, I'm urged to make a move.

A final move.

I shuffle backwards to the edge of the pillar, looking down to the ground as  I cling on to the edge. I just want to be safe and have the comfort of the bed of snow beneath my feet once more before I give up and fade into black and white and become nothing but a frozen moment in time to my loved ones.

I hear the crunch of Chaske's footsteps drawing nearer. My mind runs a marathon on what he's thinking - does he want me dead? Or, does he want to live off the torment and satisfaction of seeing someone weak and in need. 

So, with my deep breath, filling my lungs - with no space empty, my foot swings over onto the crystal blue surface for another time. The pillar has turned a gradual red with my blood, and as I squint my eyes, I can see some has dripped a long way down. 

My blood has managed to escape - but I haven't. 

I bear the thought of having my life and soul reaped from my body at the top of an icy pillar. And it's on that thought that I put all my might and final strength into climbing back down.

I put everything in to making the final long fall from grace.

"If you have a heart-"

My words dry up and I can feel it all escaping from me in what feel like my last moments.

[pixie tries to descend the pillar again]

JTRYvo|o1-3

Kissing in the blue dark

1-3

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Standing on top of this pillar was one of the more exciting moments of the games. Standing face to face with the girl from five. The girl who ran away from us once. The girl who managed to survive when all else failed. A heavy gust of wind flies through the arena threatening to knock me over. Kneeling down for a moment latching onto the top, it took everything I had as I stared her straight into the eye. The sound of my heart beating inside my chest echoes through my skull bouncing off the walls. A constant reminder that I'm alive. That the world still turns. That it's not just some afterlife caving in.

Red seeps through the wounds of the girl in front of me as she staggers backwards fighting to keep alive. Fighting to get away. Fighting to live. None of us want to die. None of us want to give up because giving up will only end one way. I can only watch as she tries her hardest to get away, and I'm laughing at the top of my lungs. Doubling over trying to keep my balance on top this slippery surface. It's one that everyone needs. One that nobody deserves the chance of caring about.

She's hanging on the edge as I'm moving closer to her. Closer. Closer. Closer. Blood calls my name with each heartbeat. My eyes grow wider and wider and wider. Each gust of wind forces a sweet scent of decay into my nostrils, and they're flared trying to take it all in. Trying to bring myself to a realization that this is my kingdom. Chaske may have took it away, but it's time for me to bring it back. For me to show the world that Volcan reigns, not Chaske. He's weak, and I'm strong.

He's a coward, and I am brave.

Her legs fly over the edge and she's holding on preparing to descend the pillar once again. Preparing to fall such a long way down - doesn't she know it'll kill her - into the crimson snow. A shower of blood poured rapidly during the fight, and now it's gone. People have ran, and it's just me and her. Me and this puny ass tribute from district five. The one who ran away from the fighting. The one who doesn't deserve to live.

Quickly, she ends up back on top of the pillar. She's standing in front of me. Standing. Preparing. Hoping. A false sense of hope sweeps through the air as she turns to me. Turns, and I can almost see the fear consuming her body as I rise higher and higher. An axe resting in the palm of my hand. One that's prepared to kill. To taste the blood. A blade that deserves the chance of being coated in red. That stands the possibility of tasting something it's never imagined.

"If you a heart-"

If I had a heart? If I had a heart? What does she want? Does she want to live? To see the light of tomorrow? To taste what it's like to die in the midst of a fight? The careers are dead. Nobody else know how to bring the torture anymore. Her skin belongs away from her bones. A crown of her ribs is what I want. Something that will show the world that everything is possible. Something that makes everything seem possible. That I never give up because giving up and begging like a coward is wrong.

Shrieks burst from deep inside filling the bitter air. It's impossible to save someone. Impossible to realize what would happen. If I let her live, she could kill me later on. A giant backlash for showing mercy. Nobody receives mercy. It makes a person weak, and it pushes all the hard work away. The only mercy I would show her would be ending her life. To make sure she doesn't suffer anymore. Isn't that's what she's doing? Suffering as all the delightful blood leaks through her wounds?

She's knocking on death's door, and I'm the one standing on the other side prepared to answer. Prepared to make the fourth cannon of the day sound. Prepared to bring the remaining lives to six.

And I'm not sorry.

{table by zoë}

Chaske attacks Pixie Ruined | Throwing axe

R1E8ZkP0throwing axe
10134 -- Bruised Head -- 3.5 damagethrowing axe

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

"We don't want to survive... we want to l i v e."

Cannon.

Kate's head whipped around, her initial thought being that something terrible had just happened because she had let her allies out of her sight. But then her eyes traveled upwards. Someone at the top of the pillar was dead. The minute nine had gotten up there, they had probably started fighting each other for the bags; and given the bloodlust that clearly had ahold of the latter, Katelyn thought she could guess at who had killed who. Staring at the pillar again, she weighed her options. If she kept trying to climb, there was a good chance that the boy would come after her as well. Not to mention that the longer she stayed, the more chance there was that she wouldn't be able to catch up with her allies.

A bag with a random item in it wasn't worth her life. Casting her gaze around, she stared at the three dead boys and wondered if any of them had known they wouldn't be leaving the feast alive. The air was thick with the cloying scent of death, and yet Katelyn found that she was used to it now. It wasn't that she enjoyed it, not like the cherry blossoms and apple trees back home, but it was a familiar smell now, and her sensibilities were dead to it. Taking a deep breath of the cold air, she wandered back and forth along the battlefield, collecting her axes from where they had fallen. 

There was no sign of the boy from nine trying to climb down as she did so, and shortly afterwards, she steadied herself and looked for the grouping of three footprints that belonged to Marc and Lexi. For a moment, she wondered if a kinder goodbye would be to leave them be, but she knew she couldn't bring herself to do that. No, they needed a proper goodbye.  Probably the last one.  With that in mind, Kate hurried off in the direction she had last seen them, trying to banish the idea that as everyone's chances of survival went up, their chances of dying did too. 

-Katelyn flees-
uses FA on Marc whenever she catches up
Collects her thrown axes from the gruesome battlefield
receives jar of tar from sponsorship

[presto]

We fall apart, to get back up
We learn the rules to just get by,
that's not enough

[/presto]

[googlefont="Montez:400"]