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

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

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

Insane screeching belonging to the boy from nine cut across the clearing better then the various grunts, shouts and curses. Katelyn knew from watching previous games that there was usually at least one tribute who’s mind couldn’t take the constant strain of the life and death situations. Those tributes became a danger to everyone, including themselves. Keeping a wary eye on the boy from seven, Katelyn nevertheless was aware of the other two girls making a break for the pillar and trying and failing to scale its slippery surface. Not good for those two, as some of the boys used that time to close the distance between them and hack away at five, splattering her blood all over the pillar.

Even covered in blood from multiple wounds, Mason was still attacking with an unmatched brutality as were the boys with him. Suddenly, Katelyn figured she knew which alliance was probably responsible for faces in the sky. The career from four was faring no better than the girl that had arrived with him, not with his jaw hanging at an awkward angle. But through it all, Katelyn could only focus on the terrifying sound of the twisted laughter emanating from nine. It chilled her to the bone far quicker than the temperature, cutting her to the quick. It was the sound of someone that had lost themselves to what the games represented and it was increasingly hard to ignore.

No cannons had fired yet, but Katelyn knew that that could change in an instant. Especially given the amount of blood being shed. Seven had left Marc alone for the moment, bringing his pick down on five and tearing her arm open, but that only gave Marc a moments respite. Lexi brutalized the boys arm herself and once more Katelyn found herself following suit, launching another projectile and hoping it did more than the first one had. Lexi's flame might have been snuffed out, but she still had a few hatchets that were lit. She didn’t want anyone else to die like the boy from ten had, but with the tribute’s back turned it created an opening. Cowardly? Yes. But Katelyn didn't know what other choice she had. The fiery ax tore into the gash that Lexi had created and made it wider while licking it with a pyrokinetic kiss. It was amazing that anything was left on his arm.

-Katelyn attacks Wyatt-
Eo8fqu|2200+10000
-- Deep Gash on Bicep -- 8
1-50
+2

[presto]

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

[/presto]

[googlefont="Montez:400"]200+10000�1-50

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

pixie ruined | district five | 69th hunger games

I tumble, fall, plummeting to the ground that I had watched with fear.

My body hits and I roll for a moment, sky blurring with snow until the two colors can no longer be separated. And as I finally come to a stop I pull myself to shaking feet, attempting to focus on the tree line behind us with the hopes that the definite objects will balance out my vision, but the chaos of the fighting keeps the world spinning.

The burn of my flesh only sends me falling further.

And so I stumble, attempting to put space between myself and the boys from two and seven, but blood pours freely from my calf, leaving a trail in the snow to mark me wherever I go. It feels like my life is slipping from both the freshest wounds, but the idea adds an important fuel to the dancing fire in the pit of my stomach. In this moment, I feel powerful but unable to act on the fleeting though. My mind is in complete shambles - a mess crumbling with every passing second, and I know the only logical thing to do is think straight.

I blink, and everything flashes by. Another, and their voices are closing in until I can hear nothing more, and I scream.

I tear myself away, throwing myself back to the base of the pillar with every last bit of life left in my veins. I scramble for its surface once again, craving the cold touch under my burning flesh.

I begin to scale again, prayers tumbling from my lips with every passing second—please, just please let me live this once— and if I was given an option now, I’d sell my soul for only one more moment.

But there is no god governing this kingdom; we are left to save ourselves, and for some, that may be a simple task, but with the blood flowing through my wounds, I cannot consider this the same. Blurring visions and meticulous climbing were not two things to go hand and hand, and each attempt to ascend leaves me with the eerie feeling I’ll be joining Margaret and Lex on the ground once again.

This is my final charge; my last battle plan, and I have to grab the opportunity with both hands - even if they feel as though serving their purpose seems an impossible task, and I’ll be damned if I bring it to its consummation by turning in without rhyme or reason.

One last moment; one last chance.

And so I rise, if only to fall.

[pixie ruined attempts to climb again]
p1cGAUPH1-3
[pixie reaches the top of the pillar and takes bag #4]

Kissing in the blue dark

1-3

[Deleted]

Margaret DuBois is supposed to be something more Than wished-washed dreams and hopes in store. Yet then again it seems to me, That most are not what they are cranked up to be. So in place of the girl with the blundering heart, Let’s find a beginning; Let’s find a new start. It may not be pretty; It may not be nice, But truth and honesty count at least twice. Pixie’s fall from glory is followed by that of my own, and with a frantic scramble to regain my footing I scratch my nails against the surface, but my efforts pay out in the same way as the girl from five’s, and with a fleeting moment as the only cushion I fall. I’ve never been thankful for the snow before. And it’s in the moments spent in the snow regaining my breath that I turn my attention to Pixie and her whereabouts, but I’m met with only the sight of the boys from two and seven blocking my view, and before I see her blood pour, I hear her scream. I’m tempted to join her in symphony. But before I can even pull myself to my feet she’s sprinting, blood trailing behind her like routes on a map, and unlike our previous attempt to climb the pillar of ice, she does not hesitate, instead taking to scaling immediately, and this time, it seems that she may have quite a bit more success. I can hear nothing, no screams, cries, or threatening words, for I can only focus on each shaking grip she takes hold of on the glassy surface. If she falls now it is for good, for the boys from nine, two, seven, and three stand waiting below, like the pack of gulpers Lex and I fought on day two. The windows of opportunities are closing fast, and it seems that Pixie’s is advancing at an even more rapid pace. It seems to open again as she pulls herself to stand atop its surface. In succession I pull myself to my feet, letting out a cry of joy before raising my spear once again. There is no room for worry now, not for myself and not for Pixie Ruined, and that leaves only one task to complete: do not stop. Not for agony or terror or anything in between, not for death or despair or terrible things. Rest is for the wealthy, and indeed, I have been left to beg for sympathy. But the need is questionable, for within the last five days sympathy has never been shown in my favor, rather in the opposite direction, for with a tender heart that I did not know laid within my chest I stitched Alexis Rondhal’s wounds, tending to hurt I could not heal. My own wounds had been tended to by myself alone, and it seemed that this way it would stay until they cut so deep that no needle could bring them to heal. Scars do not matter once one is dead. [margaret dubois attacks mason hammerfell; spear] Erhmpqiyspear [deep gash on cheek -- 8.5]

MARGARET DUBOIS DISTRICT 7 FEMALE THE 69TH GAMES made by anzie

spear

[Kire]

  It's uncontrollable, such a beautiful desire
                                                       There's something sinister about the way it hurts

I had struck him this time, my axe biting into his leg, if only lightly. Flames bloomed like a small rose around the wound, leaving a mark almost as red as the flower. It made me remember the strange white rose I had received at that alter two days ago - had it only been that long, it felt like ages - and I wondered if President Snow liked these flowers of flame that I was planting. The boy from four followed up my attack with a cut to Mason's arm. Aside from Five's stab into the giant boy's chest, all of the wounds inflicted on him were minor. There was a sharp sound from Four and I saw Three's axe dig deep into the career's leg. I grimaced in sympathy, knowing how much pain a leg wound was. He was lucky it hadn't been removed like mine.

Five was quickly set upon where she was, still scrambling at the pillar, receiving a firey hatchet in the calf and a large wound in the arm. That would make it more difficult for her to climb but somehow she began to make progress. Another yelp from Four came before a hatchet went whizzing past me and struck into the arm of the guy from Seven. When I looked, I saw that his arm was shredded and accounted it to Lexi and Kate. Those who girls were some of the most dangerous people in here, I knew it and the thought of having to experience the sharp side of their weapons was not a pleasant one.

As Five disappeared over the top of the pillar, the girl from Seven ran at Mason. She thrust her spear at his face and sliced most of his cheek open. He was bleeding heavily, but still standing. Ripred he was an ox of a boy. When I had received that many wounds I was nearly unconscious. Then again, I had been bleeding from the stump of what used to be my right leg, barely able to see due to how my eyes blurred. It was a miracle I made it, and the name of that miracle was Ellexias.

I saw my chance right away. Seven had his back turned to me and I knew then that I would make good on the words I had shouted at him. I would stay silent, not let him know what I was doing. I raised my hatchet, I breathed in, I aimed, I breathed out, I threw.

OOC Notes

Marchello attacks Wyatt
FdiNc4qK200+10000
Miss -- 0 damage


fire roll below

[Fire]
1-50
+2

200+10000�1-50

[umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]]

Everybody's always talking at me Everybody's trying to get in my head I wanna listen to my own heart talking I need to count on myself instead Did you ever Lose yourself to get what you want? Did you ever Get on a ride, then wanna get off? Did you ever push away the ones You should held close? Did you ever let go? Did you ever not know? I'm not gonna stop, that's who I am I'll give it all I got, that is my plan Will I find what I lost? You know you can Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it (Bet on me) filler Lex attacks Mason Hammerfell UEiKDqtgaxe Deep Gash on Back of Head -- 9.0

LEX RONDHAL DISTRICT 4 MALE THE 69TH GAMES made by anzie

axe

[Arrows]

The only thing giving you headaches now...
is my axe in your skulls

Filler.
Sorry school and all is insane.

~Prism Nixton~

Prism attacks Alexis Rondhal with his Pick Axe

xB_bgH1saxeaxe

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

Crazy. Insane. But mostly everything was hurting. Every time I saw the blade reach out toward me, every time I saw the flame stick its tongue out, I knew. I’m so sorry, Prism. Sorry because even though I knew this was going to happen, I wanted one more minute and the selfish thought made me remember who I was. Wyatt, the District 7 tribute, was falling for a boy from District 3. Wyatt, the District 7 male, could not give a damn. And yet, even when the pain was unbearable and the fire only made it worse, one side of me was fighting over the other. But when Mason was struck down, the new side of me woke up because as much as I never trusted Mason, I knew half the reason why our alliance had made it was because of him. I knew one day, if I wanted to keep living, he would have to die, but I didn’t think it would happen this way, this time. I would not cry over his body, but it sure as hell hurt when he stayed there lifeless and I knew that we were down to 9. Could I have killed his attacker? Could I have hurt Lex? We had met at the dining hall and while we hit it off, I was not amicable with Margaret and I knew I could not have fought with her without bickering the whole time. Getting to know Lex was perhaps one of the worst decisions of my life because I knew I could not kill the District 4 male. Even though I still wasn’t a people person during training, he had warmed up to me and I had to admit that might have made all the difference. But Mason was my ally. He was not my friend, but spending all those days with him made me feel anger towards Lex, anger and confusion. What I felt could not have compared to what Prism felt, because then Lex was lying on the ground as well and Prism’s ice pick was the cause. And every ounce of confusion and anger I had felt with Mason’s death was amplified, amplified so much that it hurt more than the attacks from the other two. I could have left at that moment, but I was angry, angry at the Gamemakers for creating this world, angry at all of the other tributes. They want a show? I’ll give them a fucking show. I’m going to die anyway.

[Wyatt attacks Marc; ice pick]
d9kbw2xuaxe
[Shallow Cut on Right Shoulder; 3.5 dmg]axe

[Knuckles]

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

It hit him right in the face.

A satisfying crunch danced through my ears as his jaw slowly drooped down. It was something he would feel for a while. The grin on my face grew larger and larger with every passing second. Knowing that I caused the pain. That I was the one who made him suffer the terrible fate, yet he was still alive. For a moment I cursed under my breath because this was the hunger games. People die all the time, however, a single death hasn't happened. All ten of us stand fighting. Ten faces hovering above the ground fighting. Blood pours from the wounds of those around, and it continues growing larger spraying against my face.

For the first time, I'm alive.

A fresh would painted across the delicate skin of tree man. Blood gushed from it pouring against the ground, it was a sweet sight, but he was hurt. Another axe tore through the air ripping the fresh wound opened wider and wider along with more flames. The smell was one that I planned on cherishing for the rest of my life. Skin being torched under the orange flames. A masterpiece, and the tributes are the artists. A sculptor of blood lays on the ground flowing ever so easily from those around, and somehow I'm safe. I'm okay. They aren't.

The puny ass tribute from district five wrapped her arms around the pillar desperately trying to climb again. Last time she fell, but this time she made it. A stupid coward running away from a fight. I honestly have no idea how she made it. Blood gushed from her limbs, from her body, covering the pillar. Anyone willing to climb after would slip on her blood. I'm amazed she hasn't bled to death, yet she's alive. Breathing. Blood pumps through her veins, and I can't wait to make it end. Tree man's district partner charges towards brute man with her spear raised into the air, and it eats through his cheek.

It sprays against my face. Cakes against my skin, but he's standing. My heart drops into my stomach. I want to tell him to watch out, to move out of the way, but something inside of me is screaming at me to stop. Watching him die wasn't on my bucket list. Watching all of these tributes parade around slapping each other with sharp blades wasn't something ever, and I would lie if I said I wasn't enjoying it because I thoroughly am. I turn around trying to find the boy career from four with the girl's -

BOOM!

What was that?

From all my years of watching the games, I knew what it meant. Someone died. Someone breathed their last breath. Spinning around as fast I can, I find brute man laying on the ground. Blood pouring from the wound someone created in the back of his head. My chin drops towards the ground as I spot the boy from four. Blood dripping from the tip of his axe. Everything inside of me screams, and I'm screaming with it. Another axe quickly removed, and the handle in my hand. I'm pointing it at him shouting incoherent screams at him, but apparently the burn out from district three as the same idea. I stop in my tracks watching the ice pick fly through the air before slicing his hand clean off.

Blood sprays against my face with every heartbeat. The delicious red blood spurts from his veins, and I know in a matter of seconds he'll die. It wasn't a moment later his body collapsed towards the ground and his cannon sounded. Good riddance. Nobody was supposed to kill brute man. I talked to him. He was my friend, and I was supposed to die before him. He shouldn't lay here on the ground dead. His life shouldn't have been ended. It should've been mine. Mine. Mine.

Crouching down, I make sure my lips are next to the career from four's ear. "I hope your death was painful, and I pray with everything inside that people are laughing because this is exactly what you deserve." My voice no louder than a whisper as the words slither from my tongue. Nobody else would be capable of hearing me. Slowly forcing myself to my feet, I move across the snowy battlefield towards brute - Mason. That's his name. Not brute man. Axes lay on the ground beside him. Anger surges throughout my entire body. If it was possible steam would blow from my ears, and I would breathe fire.

"It wasn't supposed to be you. It was supposed to be me!" I'm shouting for no apparent reason. None at all. "You were supposed to return home." Giant tears slide down the side of my face. When nobody else would talk to me, he did. He didn't care that a weaker being resided inside this body. That the weaker being was the one in charge. Mason Hammerfell listened. He understood, and now he's gone. My heart drops into my stomach as I lean over his dead body. Slowly I raise one arm and place it against his chest before picking the other arm up doing the same. "You didn't deserve this." I force myself into a standing position because the battle isn't over. "I'm sorry. May you fly high."

And I walk away.

Shrieks burst from my lips as I turn around facing everyone here. It's blur. Loud roars echo throughout my ears. It's so loud. I'm tossing my hands over them as everything slows down. A drummer pounds against my heart over and over quicken it's pace. It's growing stronger. The will to fight. Everything. Cracking my neck I look around trying to move on. To carry on stronger. To move forward. My mind races, and it's in that second I catch a glimpse of something sitting on top of the pillar.

Whether it's a person, a monster created by the Capitol, or something given to us, it's mine. I'll claim it. Every single bit it. I wrap my arms around the pillar once I'm within reach. Laughter bursts from my lips as I take the first step. Watch out President Snow. I'm coming for you. This is only the beginning.

{table by zoë}

Chaske attempts to climb the pillar for the second time

QkyC8Rn_1-31-3

[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

They were hunters, Lexi and Katelyn, tag-teaming the boy to make him bleed. He didn’t collapse beneath their steel swipes, but there was a significant amount of red in her vision. Not anger or confusion, but blood. The metallic tang she was accustomed to. It coated the insides of her nostrils, where the permanent odor of ash resided – or perhaps it was all in her imagination. A false perception that would constantly remind her of yesterday’s sins. She felt as if it had been burned into her skin with hot iron, like the sensations would never leave her body. In the cold she could imagine the heat, she could inhale the smoke. She wasn’t even tricking herself into believing it was happening again. It was just there.

The other girl was making her getaway. She scaled the ice pillar as blood trickled down her body, and judging by the severity of the wounds she was on the verge of death. If her fingers slipped, it was all over. Lexi backed away and averted her gaze in dread. That was the last thing she wanted to see – bodies dropping and bones breaking. It was inevitable. A cannon reminded her, and she found the body-builder career lying in the snow, surrounded by red slush. Another career out for the count. She hadn’t even seen who delivered the final blow, but she wanted to avoid whoever it was. They were a formidable opponent.

She turned in time to see another body collapse. This time she could confirm that Alexis had taken one too many hits. His cannon fired an instant later. The last careers had fallen, leaving a cluster of underdogs to scrap for glory. The girl at the top of the ice pillar cast a long shadow into the snow. She paused to wonder if now was a good stopping point. Two bodies had dropped in a matter of seconds, and she didn’t want to stay and risk becoming one herself. She thought the same of Marchello and Katelyn as well, but her district partner still had a pest swiping at his skin. The boy was stubborn, whoever he was. Now that the numbers had dwindled a bit, perhaps she could scare him off if she didn’t kill him first.

She didn’t know when she had adapted such a dark mindset. If I don’t kill him first. Should she simply aim to ward him off, or finish him to eliminate competition? It seemed easier to do the former, but what if he returned for revenge? She could potentially regret missing an opportunity. Yet there were other tributes to worry about. Did the boy have an ally who would scramble to his rescue? She didn’t want to endanger herself or her friends. There was no way of knowing; all she could see were his attempts to make a corpse out of Marchello, and she couldn’t allow it. No more time to think. Time to act.


[attacks Wyatt – ice pick]
3vUdTmR2axe
Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage

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

words: 492, graphics: rook
theme: god's whisper by raury

axe

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

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

Despite the brutality of the attacks, the slip of a girl from five threw herself at the pillar again, and this time, she managed to scramble up to the top and vanish over the lip. Katelyn only saw this because in the scant moments in between the time it took for people to launch their attacks, she watched the scene like she was removed from it. The one handed careers ice pick smacked into the back of a bald head, and with that, the giant known as Mason Hammerfell went down. However, his allies fought on. Katelyn supposed that if she had been watching this safely from the confines of her home instead of from several bloody feet away, she would have commended them on their bravery, as in this situation, after seeing a powerful ally fall, most tributes would have run away.

But not the boys that had been with Mason. No, only seconds afterwards the boy with the horn sliced off four’s other hand and sent him tumbling to the ground as well. A second canon sounded in as many minutes. Nine started screaming even more incoherently and Katelyn nearly froze in shock. The last of the careers were dead, but the battle raged on. Seven had turned his attention back to Marc as nine made a beeline for the pillar, and Katelyn put another hatchet in her throwing hand. Judging by his wounds, and that he handed yet run away, Katelyn figured that he was determined to take someone down with him.

Lexi stepped in to put a stop to that, swinging low and carving a furrow along seven's leg. But with Lexi guarding Marc, she wasn't able to get a clear shot at him. But she still had flaming hatchets, and there were still plenty of threats. Like the boy that killed four. If the crazy boy from three was able to take down a career, then he was a threat. It was rumored that district three was in the business of secretly training some of their teenagers to fight, and judging by what she had seen, this was the truth. And if that was the truth, then Katelyn knew where her next hatchet had to be thrown before horn boy decided to give Marc a matching set of missing legs.

In this situation, she couldn't help everyone, and in fact, helping one Marc meant harming other people, much as she had been the past few days. However, she was starting to be okay with that.  In some way, she was helping the others too. If they died they'd be free of the arena, and that was a mercy itself. The axe sailed by him, singing his skin but not doing much else, the feverish thoughts sliding out of her mind like melting snow. She still wasn't a killer. Not like the others.

-Katelyn attacks Prism-
qREkXtTT200+10000
Miss
1-50
+2

[presto]

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

[/presto]

[googlefont="Montez:400"]200+10000�1-50

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

pixie ruined | district five | 69th hunger games

There’s a fleeting moment of success, and as it shines down on me for the few moments of peace, I can almost feel warmth radiating from my skin.

But this fades as cannons sound—one, two—and as I turn my attention back towards the ground the body of Mason Hammerfell catches my attention, as well as Margaret’s standing beside it. There’s fear, shock, something—etched into her features, but I cannot tell until I realize her gaze is not caught on the boy from two, but that of the other laid to rest beside him.

Alexis Rondhal has fallen.

And it’s then that I scramble to my feet, snatching the bag I acquire and shoving it into my backpack before swinging myself back over the side of the pillar, praying that it doesn’t take me as long to descend as it did to ascend. There is no fear of falling now, for my heart has already dropped.

It reminds me of life - you reach the top and then you take a long fall from grace back down onto the grounds of reality. This scene is no different, and though it seems a nicer place to stay, the sights below demand my attention, even if it seems to be a siren calling me back into the ocean waves. It's slippery up here enough as is, and I can begin to see the boy from nine attempting to bring himself to my level, and considering his best friend just fell with help from my spear, I would assume our conversation would not be the most pleasant. The other tributes are getting more and more ferocious, as is, and it didn’t seem to me that we needed a third death in this quick of succession.

I may be a sliver from death, but now I feel more alive than ever, and despite the adrenaline leaving my head pounding and my limbs trembling, I attempt to remain calm and try put my feet back firmly onto the snowy ground where they should be.

What dangers would lie below I have no clue, but the same uncertainty lay when my head was in the clouds, and if I had to weigh the options of falling, I would rather have my feet as close to the ground as possible.

Besides, how long did I truly think I could stand on top of the world?

[pixie ruined attempts to descend the pillar]
R0NtYNL31-3
[haha nope]

Kissing in the blue dark

1-3

[Deleted]

My dearest Margaret, you've lived five days, But still you've failed to mention or say That within your heart lies a doubt-- A mistrusting And with the mountain that stands before you now, It'd be wise to tell a why or a how. With every passing night spent with my head pressed against Lex’s chest, I’ve let the thought of explaining all tumble and toss in my mind until I feel as though I could throw up that which as not in my stomach. But I had passed up every opportunity, and this morning as we walked in time to the pounding of our straining hearts, I had vowed I would answer Lex that which he had asked me the first time our conversation in the training center had been anything more than demeaning stares. It’s the first cannon that sounds that snaps my attention back to the blur. And for a moment my heart feels lighter, almost breaking free of its shell of stone, but the moment is short lived at best, for another cannon sounds and I spin to find the culprit, but in my frantic pace I had managed to miss Lex falling to his knees. It comes out as a scream at first, but breaks to a sob, and with disregard for that which lays as immediate danger I bring myself to my knees in front of him, watching the boy from nine flee with biting words and sneer. I cannot speak; cannot give my consolation for the boy who will no longer wear the crown, because I can feel my heart of stone beating within my chest, and I am terrified. I stay there for more moments than I can count, while the sounds of battle play his parting tune, and though I can no longer bear to keep my eyes trained upon his face, I remain locked to the spot, knowing that if I let go he will disappear, just as my solid foundation and shielded heart have done. I cannot lose all three in the span of a day. But it’s the disgruntled cry from the five that remain fighting behind me that eventually causes my fingers to loosen their grip, and as I pull myself to my feet I instead wrap my fingers around the spear at my side, grasping tightly to the hilt of that which continued to save me time and time again. I would need it now more than ever, with Lex gone and unable to fulfill the duties he had been so faithful in carrying out. It’s silent for a moment, the rage of battle dwindling temporarily as attentions shift to Pixie’s attempt to descend the pillar, but within a moment they pass as she balks and brings herself back to rest atop it once again. I can hear nothing but the pounding of my own heart, and now I long for nothing more than to break the fucking silence, for there is supposed to be a heart of stone hanging heavy within my chest, never beating, not for my father, sister, or Alexis Rondhal. It seems that this is failing too, and it leaves vulnerability to cut deeper than any sword or spear. [margaret dubois attacks wyatt manderson; spear] bXGOigcOspear [stabbed in stomach -- 9.5]

MARGARET DUBOIS DISTRICT 7 FEMALE THE 69TH GAMES made by anzie

spear

[Kire]

Marchello Donner

"I didn't care - I'd finally f o u g h t b a c k."

I watch it burn
Because I can't go back

Everything fell into place with two loud BOOMs. Cannons, two of them, happening within heartbeats of one another. They weren't mine, that was all I knew. My eyes slowly took in the bloody scene in front of me. One of the booms may have simply been the body of Mason Hammerfell falling. Blood oozed and flowed from him as though it were lava and he were a large volcano. Around him the white snow looked like ash and the flames of his axes slowly burnt themselves down. It was a vision of Pompeii so many millennium later. I averted my eyes from the body, the feelings in my chest disturbing. I could have killed him. I didn't, and I hadn't, so it didn't matter now. The beast was dead, but I didn't feel like celebrating. If anything, I felt like vomiting again.

Scanning just a bit further I saw the reason for the second cannon. The guy from Four lay dead in the snow, eyes wide. His hand lay beside him, separate from his body. I noticed then that he now had no hands at all. A slow realization crawled up my spine, making me shudder some. That made eight of us still alive. Only eight. Now would be the time when the tv crews would scout around for friends and family of the tribute in order to badger them with questions. Would they be able to find Maye and Augustus and December? I hoped not, I didn't want them dragged into this. I didn't want to know that they thought me a monster. Most of all, I worried because if they were found that would mean that they would be placed in an orphanage and their freedom would be lost. It would be my damn fault. If I had just died peacefully before this then they wouldn't be in danger now.

A rather sharp tap on the shoulder alerted me that I was still in the middle of a fight. It was the boy with Seven. Once more he had sliced my shoulder and I couldn't bring myself to raise a hand against him. I watched, stricken by the shock of the whole situation, as Lexi came swiping at my attacker. My dulled senses caught hold of the image of Kate's whirling axe as it flashed past the boy from Three. I stayed frozen, as still as the ice pillar from where scrabbling echoed. Lumps of ice crashed down below but nothing followed. The world snapped back into life as a spear drove itself past my body and deep into the stomach of the boy from Seven.

I leapt back, skittering on my cane leg as I tried to keep my balance. I snapped my head to the side to see the attacker and looked into the face of the girl from Seven. The thought that she might be willing to kill her own district partner brought a horrible rise to my gut as I thought about whether Lexi or I could even kill the other. I knew I could say a lot of things about how that match up might go, but if pressed into that situation, would either of us really back down? If we thought it was life or death, that one of us would survive and return home, surely we would fight with all we had?

I don't want to have to find out.

Then Lexi was at my arm and I felt at once scared an comforted. "Can we leave?" My voice sounded odd to my ears, small and childlike. I felt like a seven year old wanting to hide from all the scary adults. "I don't want to see anymore today." She would know what I meant, I hoped. I wanted to leave the death and the blood behind for today. I just wanted to go rest and not have to think about what had happened since I rose up on the plate to see the snowy landscape all those eons ago.

"Where's Kate?" Once again I was a child, asking for a friend. She was alive, I knew it because I had just seen her throw her axe so where. "I want to go, but we need Kate." I was beginning to babble, saying words just to say them. I never did this, what was happening to me. This place was beginning to wear me down.

I saw Kate and my breathing eased. My hand clasped onto Lexi's arm and I tugged gently toward the pure white snow, away from the death and the blood and the terror. I wanted peace and calm and rest. Kate would be following, I was sure, our trio would stay together. We had to, we had relied on each other so heavily these last few days and I knew that I would die without them. I would have died without them. I owed them everything.

I turned my back on the fighting, gripping Lexi's arm to steady me as I left the dead behind.

OOC Notes
Marchello flees the fight with Lexi
Marchello uses First Aid on Himself for -3
Marchello accepts First Aid from Ellexias for -3
Marchello accepts First Aid from Katelyn for -3
Marchello uses 5ft of Bandages on Himself for -1

[presto]

The ashes call my name
I won't turn around

[/presto]

[googlefont="Nothing You Could Do:400"]

[Arrows]

The only thing giving you headaches now...
is my axe in your skulls

    A storm. Not one on the outside but on the inside. One that cannot be seen from the outside except by harsh emotional fits and words of pain. One that the person caught trapped helplessly inside must face alone. A storm with the strength of 100 hurricanes combined. One that could make even the strongest men of steel break down and rust. Ones even as strong as Mason Hammerfell could be brought down by its force. It was the very storm that now bashed and tore Prism down deep within his aching and bleeding core.

    The winter winds seemed to fade away as only snow began to trickled down onto the bodies. Prism's axe dripped with the scarlet water of Lex's life as he stumbled backwards. The second cannon of this day blasted through the arena, leaving a very grim mood behind with it. Now Prism was just like them. He had the blood of another staining his hands and slipping stickily down his face. His own hands had finally silenced the life of another Capitol toy. Yet Prism was not sad or upset. His face was not contorted or broken, it was as solid as a boulder.

     He knew why and he wasn't surprised. The boy who now lay dead beneath his shadow as snow began to put him softly to rest was a killer. He was the killer of the boy from twelve and now Mason. One way or another Prism couldn't ignore that. He had to act when he saw Mason finally hit the ground. The boy was just unlucky enough to have dealt the blow. But still shouldn't he feel something sturring? Perhaps the arena's cold had finally frozen over any human part of him left.

    However the arena appeared to still have more surprises in store for him. More ways for it to dive deep into his soul and remove any warmth left. Wyatt. Prism couldn't yell out fast enough as Wyatt's own District partner lunged towards him. Prism watched frozen behind the ice of horror as her spear ripped his stomach to shreds. Not a word escaped Prism's lips or even a tear as Wyatt finally crumpled to the ground. Prism prayed for him to stand back up but his hopes were shattered in a single cannon's blast.

    Prism was off running before he even knew where the girl had gone. His eyes locked with Wyatt's body as it fell to its knees and Prism reached his hand out hoping to reach him in time. A tsunami of pain and grief smashed over Prism as he slid across the ice just barely catching Wyatt's corpse. Prism tried to cry but he couldn't, his tears were frozen under neath the cold of the Games and the winds of this arena.

    Prism's entire body shook, not from pain or from cold, but from grief. Gently Prism laid Wyatt down in the snow. It hurt Prism so much to see Wyatt as though he was simply sleeping. Through a croaked voice Prism whispered a final goodnight to Wyatt before Prism's lips gently touched Wyatt's freezing forehead. A thought managed to cut through the numb of Prism's mind as he pulled out the mutt fur coat he had taken from the boy he killed. Ever so carefully Prism ripped away the fur and through it into the snow. Then using just the tarp he carefully wrapped Wyatt's body inside, a funeral worthy for him.

    A sudden voice sounded over the snow frosted pillar as Chaske screamed to him. "Go! Run! I don't want to kill you!" His words cut Prism deep but he knew Chaske was right. In fact Prism wanted to return the comment but all he could muster up was a weak nod. Slowly he gathered up his things and his new supplies then stiffly began shuffling away through the snow. However he made sure to stop next to Chaske.

    Prism tenderly touched Chaske's shoulder as he whispered, "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." Then Prism ran. He ran though the falling flurries of snow as tears that surely would be running down his cheeks stayed frozen. It finally appeared that the arena had frozen away all he loved. All the warmth was gone. He was numb. He was frozen. Yet he was alive

~Prism Nixton~

Prism flees the feast
Prism uses Lex's Gulper Fur Coat to throw away the gulper fur and to wrap Wyatt's body in the tarp
Prism takes Lex's N/T (one use)
Prism takes Lex's 10ft of bandages
Prism takes Mason's fur gloves and puts them on
Prism takes Mason's full purified water jug
Prism lets Chaske have Mason's hellhound coat and Mason's token
Prism eats his raw fish
Prism takes Mason's edible plants
Prism uses F/A on himself for -3
Prism uses N/T on himself for -5
Prism uses 5ft of bandages on himself for -1

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

No one ever told me it would hurt. No one ever told me it would be so hard to leave. But no one had ever expected me to leave so early. I never expected it to be Margaret. Sure, we had our differences or similarities, really, but I had never thought that she was the one who would strike me down. She must have really loved him. It was the only explanation I could think up and it wasn’t without some support. I was no expert in love, but I had enough of a taste to know the feeling of possibly losing someone every time another tribute would attack Prism. I was fortunate to not have to lose him that same way. When I saw the spear coming in my direction, I knew it was over. Over because the despair that Margaret must have been feeling could only have been translated in one of two ways: no effect or absolute destruction. I should have moved, but a part of me held myself there as I watched the spear drive through my stomach and I looked at her, stared at her, as the pain started spreading. I wanted to die. The pain was unbearable and it was slow, and as I kept my eyes trained on Margaret, I had to fight hard not to show that pain. I had done this to myself no, the Capitol did this to me, but it didn’t hurt any less. Instead, I fought for that smile, that smile to tell Margaret that I would never forgive her and yet I appreciated her for putting me out of the pain my body had accumulated for the past 5 days. I wasn’t ready to leave, there was no denying that, but the moment it became certain, it was only a matter of when. I turned to look at Prism as I fell to my knees, wondering how it would have ended otherwise. If we made it to the next day, would I have been able to develop a stronger connection with him? Would he have quieted or removed the side of me that existed before the Games? A part of me was sad that I would never find out; another part sad that I couldn’t tell him. I felt like shit because even though I couldn’t deny I had some sort of feeling for him, it wasn’t the love that I could boast. Still, seeing the ring on his finger made me happy and at peace because I had given it a try and I had no regrets about it. The ground moved closer as I lost any control to stay up, and it was the cruel reminder of how cold the arena was that shocked me and sent my mind spinning. I always heard people say that our lives would flash before our eyes right before we died. Only one memory came up for me. I am 5— —and I hear the voice of my father, calling my name. I am happy to see him, happy because he is my ‘Daddy’ and I still love him. There is no bottle in his hand, just open arms reaching out to me as he picks me up and lifts me in the air. My mother is in the kitchen, humming a familiar tune that I don’t know but wish I had learned. ‘Daddy, will you play with me?’ And he says yes because all he needs in his life right now is his family. He tells me I will be bigger than him one day, stronger than him one day, and that when he gets really, really old, I will take care of him. His words came true too soon, and as I laid there on the ground, all I could think about was Mother, Father, Prism, Mason, Chaske, Father, Mother. Mother, who didn’t say goodbye to me because she was still at home. Father, who I had managed to outlive despite him destroying his liver. Prism, the District 3 tribute that I had feelings for and was willing to take an arrow for. Mason, the brute who wasn’t afraid to hurt but also wasn’t afraid to protect. Chaske, the crazy boy who I could never get a read on but stayed by our side despite what I had done to him. Father, the man who had cradled me in his arms when I was a young toddler. Mother, who kept me by her side and would smooth my hair as I watched Father have another episode. I wasn’t ready to go, but I had no choice. Damn, if only I had a cigarette.