So we meet again? [C/P v E/K day 6]

[Knuckles]

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

The wind from on top of this pillar was almost unbearable. Each time I inhaled it felt like a thousand ice crystals were forming in my lungs - it felt like they were on fire. It hurt to breathe, but it's a sign that somewhere underneath the layer of clothing, the skin, the muscle, the bone sits a heart that beats steadily. A warm liquid flows through my veins stopping at every important place in my body making sure I'm staying alive.

She fell the moment the axe left my hand, and her cannon shot through the arena. Laughter erupts from my lips only to be lost in the howling of the wind. I killed someone. My eyes scan the bloody battlefield. Four bodies rest scattered throughout the area. Mason, the male career with the girl's name, the puny ass tribute from five, and Wyatt. A grin laced with malice forms across my face as I walk over to the bags grabbing the first two within reach. Bag one, and bag two.

Inside the bag with the number one on it, I find a medical kit and a jug of water. I can feel my parched throat and instantly feel grateful for choosing this bag. I have a surplus of medical supplies only in this arena with how bad things can happen in a second I guess a surplus is better than hardly anything at all. In bag number two is where I hit the jackpot. Shin guards. They will definitely come in handy. I've seen armor save lives before. It can mean the difference between a killing blow or a minor hit. I put them on and about to turn away from the bag when I notice what's inside of it. What looks to be a glaive. Laughter erupts from my mouth before a large grin forms. I've seen what these things can do.

My thoughts turn back to the bag I picked up. Number nine. With a grin, I open the bag to see the contents. Once again I've chosen right. I've never seen this piece of what looks to be armor, but it looks like it would make a good fit for my forearms. I test one out and fit it around my left forearm. Indeed a perfect fit. I put on the other and laugh. The others fled like fools leaving me to have the spoils. I see what I recognize to be anti-venom. Prism had one sponsored earlier in the games. Speaking of the idiot left the scene. Fool.

I turn back to stare at the remaining bags and want the rest of them. Only my bag reaching its limit with what I picked up. I take the much warmer coat from the girl from five and begin to descend. Slowly step by step. Don't want to fall and break my neck or something. At last I can feel the ground and a grin forms. I'm the last man here. My eyes go back to the bodies. Mason and Wyatt both lifeless. I turn away from the scene and take off in the opposite direction.

I've wandered for some time as the anthem hits. I only need a quick glance to see the brute's face followed by the others killed in action. One step closer to home. I can't risk sleep now not without the others possibly coming to kill me. There's still five others out there. Far as I'm concerned Prism betrayed me by leaving. Mason betrayed me and now he's dead. So will Prism soon enough. I hold my newly acquired glaive in my hand ready to attack anyone left.

I've dozed off or lost my concentration as the first rays of light wake me up. I move once again. The events of yesterday still fresh in my mind. That's when I notice what appears to be two people. Could one of them be Prism? The girl who fled once I killed the girl on top of the pillar? I raise my glaive and attack the closest person to me.

{table by zoë}

Chaske attacks Ellexias Verisity

14sB|LZXglaive
13114 -- Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damageglaive

[Arrows]

prism nixton

Prism never knew just how cold this arena could be. No longer did he sense the lingering and weak beats of warm bodies beside him. No longer were there laughs or fights. All that was beside him now was the aching silence of night as snow flurries scuttled through the solemn sky. It was all too quiet. Too dark.

There were four lights that originally flashed through this arena that should not be dimmed. DJ, her heart was laced with the purity of gold and her love for children was undeniably amazing. Velocity, her independence and way she saw the world was one he could never forget. Wyatt, the boy who had fixed him when he was broken beneath the shackles of ice that condemned them all to this icy wasteland. Then there was Mason, the strongest and most valiant person Prism had ever known, one that should have left this arena alive and returned home. All of them should have, they were all worthy. Yet here Prism laid in the snow with his heart still mildly blinking, his light still glowing. He was alive instead of them and it felt so wrong.

Through the flakes that constantly flourished through the winds the sky a lit in its beautiful display. The colors swirled and danced as each individual band brought back memories of his fallen friends and lovers. This broadcast was a constant reminder of them. It showed just how unique and vibrant each of them were to this world.

Four faces met Prism but he only dared to look to see the girl from five's, the others he couldn't bare any more. One as the boy he himself had cut down without hesitating. Then the others, well, even thinking about them made him want to bury himself beneath the snow and die. Yet there was one thing he knew for sure now, Chaske was still alive and fighting. Of course he was, Prism knew that kid had spunk ever since they first met. Prism had even told him that the spunk he had would keep him alive. If only Chaske truly knew what he meant back then.

Morning came around as Prism weakly stood up from his restless tossing and turning. No cannons sounded through the night so Prism knew that six of them were left. Six lights radiating throughout all of Panem. Six that were soon going to clash in a calysma that could blind all of Panem in a single massive flash. The individual fights were about to begin. The favorites would win or fall, it all depended on the outcasts. What would become of today? Prism supposed only time would tell,  so he packed up his things and headed to the once place he felt safest.

The forest still shone green through its white blanket as Prism trudged gruelingly through its deep troughs of snow. Somewhere nearby Prism could here the rustling of other feet. His heart was beating quick as a sweat began brimming upon his brow. Carefully Prism approached the noise and peered out from around a tree. Then he saw him less than a meter a way his hair still as black as ever.

Clearly his throat Prism knocked on the tree to get Chaske's attention as he approached. "I'm not gonna lie I was really hoping I wouldn't have to see you so soon." Prism's hands wobbled around his axe at the thought of fighting his only remaining friend. Yet that was when the other two arrived. Prism let out a laugh, "I guess we always were good at getting attention anyway."

Prism Nixton Attacks Ellexias Versity with his Axe
sx7VraoRaxe
Results:Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage

made by anzie

axe

[Python]

ELLEXIAS
we live, we die
we steal, we kill, we lie
just like animals
but with far less grace

They reunited long before the sun sank below the horizon. An unexpected turn of fate led Katelyn back to them, unharmed and empty-handed. Lexi didn’t care whether she had reached the peak of the ice column or not, she just wanted Katelyn to be safe and sound. The final cannon of the feast had vibrated beneath the clouds and reverberated in her bones, lighting every edge of her on a painless fire. It shocked her heart into a stutter and she nearly stumbled in their trek because the paranoid aspect of her healer’s conscience worried that it had been Katelyn. She could’ve plummeted to her death from the pillar, or had a hatchet buried in her skull from that maniac boy. She had prayed and prayed to fate (such a silly thing to do) that it wasn’t Katelyn. For once, her prayers were answered.

It was a chance happening, she knew that. It wasn’t about her wills or wishes – Katelyn had simply managed to escape the final fleeting moments of chaos. Fate was too abstract of a concept to believe, yet there were doubtful parts of her that wondered if it was chasing her wherever she went, watching her. Lurking behind corners and waiting for the proper moment to strike. She had murdered three people in this arena alone, and many more back home in the underground laboratory. She couldn’t lie to herself and claim that it was all her supervisor’s fault. She played a role in it too; lives were gambled, suffering was caused, and over-ups were forged. She was responsible for all of it.

She knew her luck was about to run dry.

They settled in open land. Blankets of snow were their only shields, but with so little numbers remaining she wasn’t worried about someone stumbling across their pathetic campsite. Lexi sat in a snow pile and chewed her apple for comfort. Her body craved nourishment, her stomach twisting itself into heavy knots after days and days without so much as a crumb. The Captiol had tormented her with meals that filled her belly to its brink, only to thrust her into a barren landscape with no appetizing food to gather. This apple and one can of tuna was practically a miracle. The tart of the apple was an explosion of sensation. As she nibbled it to its core, she watched the sky dim. It was beautiful if not for the horrors that obscured her lenses. She couldn’t cherish it like she had in District Six. Beauty was only beauty when she felt at home with her father and her coworkers. Home was warm and alive with birds and crickets. Here, it was dead and freezing.

Marc fell asleep within minutes, and Katelyn quietly announced her decision to separate. The sunset was only a backdrop now, a bringer of darkness and death. A reminder that the Games were a cycle. After tonight, more fighting would commence. Perhaps she would die, perhaps Katelyn would die.

Everyone would die, all but one. It could be a stranger. It could be a friend.

Lexi was grateful for everything Katelyn had done. Without her, she couldn’t imagine where they would be. They had all needed and relied on each other like a true, genuine alliance, and now the priority had shifted. Now they had to avoid each other at all costs. When Katelyn set off into the unknown – cheeks damp with tears – the anthem announced four deaths, which signaled six tributes remaining. Her friendship with Marc and Katelyn accounted for half of that. The chances of fighting either of them were high, and now the Game was about betrayal and desperation. She had to stumble upon anybody but them, yet Marc was still here by her side. At any moment, they could become the final two contestants.

The weather was dreary. She was numb to her bones, and her mind felt frozen in time. She couldn’t process Katelyn having departed, or where she would end up. She couldn’t think about anything but where she was now, sitting beside Marc. What would happen if she stayed? She idly began to pack up her things. Marc was still fast asleep, and she couldn’t disturb him. She couldn’t worry him with goodbyes and explanations. He was rather temperamental, but he could figure it out. Anybody could. ”This might be a bad idea, I don’t know,” she whispered, ”But I think it has to be done. Goodbye, Marchello.” And may we never see each other in this place again.

She smoothed the hair from his forehead, and stood up in silence. She walked until she couldn’t bear the winds anymore. Darkness offered nothing but terror and confusion. She didn’t see the tree towers as anything but looming shadows, and propped herself against one of them. Her hands were shaking and her teeth chattering, not from the cold but from terror. She was regretting her decision already; she was vulnerable, unreliable. Nothing could be trusted, but she had to weigh the consequences. Spend a night in the dark, or risk fighting Marchello? She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was time to show true bravery, time to suck it up and do what was right.

She slept until daylight without disturbance.

It was strange to wake up with no responsibility. There was nobody to nudge awake, there were no wounds to check. Hers were already scabbing over with no sign of swelling, and the snow had burned the aches and pains into a numb, tingling sensation. She promptly stood up and headed further into the forest. She had to keep as much distance as possible between herself and Marchello.

She didn’t know what the Gamemakers’ plans were. Somehow, they always shoved tributes together in the end. The final six were never reserved for mutts. They were the finest entertainment, so she didn’t anticipate growls or claws. She listened for footsteps instead.

Two pairs found her.

She gulped and considered the odds of stumbling upon two tributes instead of one when only six remained. Seconds too late, she realized her mistake. They charged her at once and she tried to maneuver between them, both of their weapons scraping sloppily against her left leg. She didn’t stumble. Instead, she backed herself into a tree, lit her tar-prepared axe on fire, and sprang forward without another moments’ hesitation. With two of then, there was no time to strategize. Any moment lost they could use to corner her.

She refused to die in those circumstances.

[uses jar of tar and lights axe on fire]

[attacks Prism – axe]

3Vb8SeaDaxe
Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage

fire
”1-50”
extinguished

axe�”1-50”

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

"This is the end of the age... singing songs of w a r "

Four faces in the sky.

Mason. The remaining career from four. The girl from five. The boy from seven. Mason was the only one she had interacted with at all in the training center, and that itself seemed like a lifetime ago. What had she told him? That she wasn’t going to stand by and let him murder people while she patched him up. In turn, he had said that he was bred to kill in the games, and that he had come to terms with who he was. It was honest. Brutal. But honest. Katelyn hoped that Hammerfell had found peace before his existence had been snuffed out. That all of them did. The games rarely offered the opportunity for a death free of violence, but if the previous games were anything to go by, some tributes found dying easier to handle than others.

At least no one in the feast had died alone, even if the people they were with were enemies. Katelyn felt alone herself as she watched the anthem fade away. Marc and Lexi she had departed from several hours ago, not wanting to draw out what would be a harsh goodbye. Marc had fallen asleep after being patched up yet before she had worked up the guts to leave, and would not be roused, despite her best efforts. She opted for a platonic kiss to his forehead in lieu of a farewell. Lexi on the other hand, received a tearful goodbye, and a quiet thanks for the role she had played in the survival of the three of them. Katelyn left the specifics unsaid, but it was clear that Lexi’s medical knowledge and ability to kill had saved the three of them more times than anyone would have said out loud. But now, now the the chances that the gamemakers would be cruel enough to make them fight each were high, and Katelyn wanted to put some distance between them.

After that, she had run away, the tears flowing freely, but never looking back until she was sure the pair from six were out of sight. That had been awhile ago. Without the comfort of allies watching her back, Katelyn decided not to sleep, and instead alternated between periods of walking, and periods of sitting down, unwilling to let slumber claim her lest one of the other three tributes came across her in her sleep. There was the boy from three who was clearly mentally unbalanced, the boy from nine who reveled in the bloodshed and thus was likely equally as insane as the first boy, and the girl from seven, whom Katelyn knew nothing about other than that she was skilled with a spear and ready to kill, judging by how she had dispatched her own district partner.

That left Marc and Lexi, both of whom she hoped would make it through the night alright on their own. Lexi could take care of herself, Kate knew that, but her other friend? Maybe before a career had taken his leg. Without them, he’d be at the mercy of anything or anyone he ran into. Kate would had cried again at that thought, but her eyes and her head hurt far too much for that, leaving her in a sort of drained daze where she walked listlessly and without purpose. The rising threat of hunger and dehydration definitely had something to do it, but that couldn’t account for all of it. No, Katelyn was starting to shut down emotionally, unable to focus on anything other than the realization that there was only five other people in the arena with her, when five days ago, there had been twenty-three.

                                                        ***
Morning brought little respite to her musings, and the lack of sleep did not help matters. At some point, she had wandered back in the the forest in which they had first encountered the career pack. She could feel the bags under her eyes, and she felt light headed yet drained. A terrible contradiction that left her feeling unaware, but the timbre of a male voice and a distinct thump that she recognized as a weapon striking a body caused her to snap her head up at the noise and dive for cover behind the nearest tree. Peeking around the edge, she spotted hornboy and the crazy one from the pillar, both attacking a girl. Kate’s heart nearly stopped when she realized that it was Lexi and not the girl from seven. She had hoped not to run into either of her allies again, but it seemed that the gamemakers had other plans.

Digging her bag, she brought out her last match, and a jar or tar that had arrived shortly before she had said goodbye to Marc and Lexi. It was old hat now, lighting the throwing axes on fire and attacking with them. But this time, instead of Lexi saving her, she’d be saving Lexi. Kate barreled out from behind the tree and hurled a flaming hatchet at the boy she had a clearer shot at and raced to Lexi’s side. The hatchet carved a furrow along the boys leg to match the wounds on Lexi's, though the fire winked out of existence before it hit him. ”Lexi!” she shrieked. Blood continued to trickle down her friends leg, but otherwise she seemed alright. The boys must not have gotten the drop on her too long ago. Now that she got a chance to look at them, she noted that nine was carrying a weapon she had not seen before; a long pole with a blade. Sponsored? Or had he found it atop the pillar? Katelyn pursed her lips. It didn't matter. What mattered was that the boys were trying to kill Lexi, and though she had thought her time with allies to be up, she had enough love in her heart to help the girl from six, probably for what would be the last time.

-Katelyn lights axes on fire using Jar of tar & one Match-
-Katelyn attacks Prism w/throwing axes-
Pbc|8nDl200+10000
- Axe in Calf -- 8.5 damage
1-50
extinguished

[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

[Knuckles]

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

It keeps getting colder and colder and colder. Each and every day that's gone by has brought on a new challenge, but at least with this new jacket, the cold isn't that much, and another thing: the gamemakers must be bipolar making the wind go from nothing to extreme then back to nothing as well as the snow. It's either snowing heavily or nothing at all. Today isn't any different. Pure white snow falls from the sky covering the ground - it's a mircale nobody hasn't been buried yet.

At the thought the same grin I've wore all day yesterday spreads wide across my face. It's like imagining someone trapped in a cave of snow with no way out. The weight of the world would press down so hard until ribs cracked, lungs collapsed, and the heart exploded from the pressure. I can see the way the face turned blue, the eyes bulging from the skull. It paints an amazing picture running throughout my entire mind, but now I feel better. I feel worth it.

I'm alive.

"You weren't suppose to come here. I don't want to kill you, but now I have no -" A flame burns brightly in the distance as the burn out kid cuts off my words stating we were always good at drawing attention to ourselves, and this proves it. This goes to show that no matter where we go someone will always follow us. Howls of laughter burst from my lips filling the air as my grip tightens against my new weapon. "One last time?" My eyes turn towards the burn out kid as I'm moving forward slicing the blade against the girl's leg.

And she struck back.

I groaned softly as the flame on her blade went away. All I could think about was the smell of the burning flesh of those who were tortured with it back on the battlefield. It still feels my nostrils, and it still brings great joy into my life. My hairs stand at end painted red from the previous bloodshed. My body longs for the joy of more. Longs for the sculptor to paint a wonderful picture against the snow covered ground. To change the pure white snow into something filled with rage and anger.

"Lexi!"

My eyes turn from the blood trickling down her leg to the girl from eleven who lobbed a flaming axe towards Prism. As much as I want him dead for walking away from me, this isn't how he's supposed to go. He's not supposed to die this way. He has to die though. Only five more stand in my way of wearing the crown ready for total victory. Only five more cannons need to sound, and if his is one of them, it'll be another blast of music to my ears.

An axe sticks perfectly into his calf.

Another day. Another fight. Another chance to devour those in front of me, and right now all I can see is Prism Nixton. I've fought with him for so fucking long, and he ran away. Prism Nixton is a coward. And here I am looking into the face of a traitor. Someone who deserves the death of a coward. He's here.

I'm here.

And so are they.

What do I do?

Do I let the foolish burn out bleed to death?

No.

I fight back.

Teeth bared, I steady the bladed weapon. Eyes wide as I stare down my prey. One doesn't just kill them, they play. They make them fear their life. And that's exactly what I do as incoherent shouts fly from my lips as the wind sweeps them away.

If only she knew how much fun this was going to be.

{table by zoë}

Chaske attacks Ellexias Verisity

rJqWcsc8glaive
13091 -- Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damageglaive

[Arrows]

prism nixton

With a swift swing Prism's axe scraped the girl from six's leg. The damage he dealt wasn't great but it was a start. One way or another he and Chaske would figure out a strategy. Prism didn't feel like losing Chaske or himself in this fight. Even if that did mean that later on in the games they could potentially have to turn their weapons on each other.

A sudden flash of fire followed by a light scratch woke Prism up to the fight that was wavering all around him. He didn't even have enough time to avoid the axe that slammed deep into his calf. Prism let out a growl of pain as he ripped the axe out of his leg. Blood began rushing down his leg and coating the snow beneath him, but this wasn't the first time.

Prism shook his head and let out a guttural laugh as he looked at his two opponents. They each were given fire, tar. They were adored by the Capitol, of course they were. Yet if one of them fell now it would change everything, change the fate of the entire games. However did he and Chaske have the power to do this? They had to. For Wyatt and for Mason they had to show all of Panem what they are known for. Hitting hard.

Through the silence and panting of the battle Prism eyed them both up. Specifically the girl from six. He watched her every movement, her every single breath. If she makes one step out of place he would see and act upon it. Now it was just a game of cat and mouse. Who was which would be decided soon.

Then he saw it, a very small pinpoint chink in her defense that most would miss. Yet he wouldn't, he was precise. "Guess you both really don't like me huh?" Prism called as he slowly advanced upon them, his eyes not revealing where his axe would swing next. "No matter, I never wanted people to like me anyway."

It was then he quickly dove forward. Prism's axe swung as quickly forward as a hawk diving in for the kill on a field mouse. The axe's blade reached out for the girl from six. It wanted her blood, it wanted to teach her the lesson of death. This was a lesson in which Prism wouldn't mind teaching at all.

Prism Nixton Attacks Ellexias Versity with his Axe
U9icxuAVaxe
Results: Severed Right Calf at Knee -- 9.0 damage

made by anzie

axe

[Python]

ELLEXIAS
we live, we die
we steal, we kill, we lie
just like animals
but with far less grace

I’m dead.

Even if she managed to kill one of them, the other would overpower her quickly. She knew what she was capable of and it wasn’t this. This was a battle molded for careers, not for the inexperienced. Her previous fatal encounters all felt like a streak of luck. She knew the basics of offense and defense, and had wielded them to her advantage. It worked because she didn’t think, she didn’t worry. It was all robotics and instinct, something ingrained in the human race’s genes. Now she was too far along. She couldn’t simply bury an axe in somebody’s skull without remembering the horrifying sound. She couldn’t aim low for somebody’s leg to cripple them because there was guilt embedded in her subconscious. She had lived too long, longer than she had ever hoped or expected.

This was her downfall. To be outnumbered was to die an animal’s death. Nobody expected her to succeed, and these two boys knew it, too. She could see it in their hungry eyes. One of them was the boy who had been throwing hatchets left and right yesterday. More than one had been lodged into Alexis’ body. If he was capable of practically slaughtering a career, then she was nothing. Now he wielded something longer, something deadlier. A serpent-like weapon she would expect a career to master.

She anticipated the end.

”Lexi!”

Wind doused her fire, but there was an unmistakable ribbon of red on the boy’s leg. She had left an insignificant mark, but that wasn’t what held her attention. Jogging through the slush, she glanced up and found a familiar blonde head of hair. ”Katelyn!” Her surprise was evident in her exclamation, and there was no hiding the edge of relief in her tone. As much as she had wanted to distance herself from her friends, she needed them now more than ever. Should she feel guilty for having dragged one of them into this dangerous situation?

Katelyn confirmed an answer when she hurled a flaming axe into the boy’s leg. It could very well cripple him if he wasn’t careful. The flames flickered and died against his flesh, but she didn’t care about some sponsored chemical that promoted the cremation of bodies. What she cared about was Katelyn’s loyalty, her willingness to risk her life. She expected last night’s goodbye to last forever. Katelyn was supposed to never be seen by her eyes again, so she could either win or die trying just like everyone else. This change of pace was both alarming and comforting. Katelyn shouldn’t be here, yet she was.

She was okay with it. For now.

”Long time no see,” she joked, breathless. She wanted to dissipate the tension and destroy her fear. It didn’t work.

One of the boys was laughing, and she didn’t understand why. This was no laughing matter. There was no irony. An insanity plea could be made for anyone surviving in his frozen hell, but the sound still made her nerves spark like wires. To be laughed at in a situation like this wasn’t humiliating, but it was degrading. A demeaning death was always one of mockery, and although she shouldn’t care, she felt she deserved dignity. Her life would be wasted, after all. All of her efforts would be for naught. Her father would be without her, broken until he eventually wasted away. It wasn’t fair, but it was real. It was inevitable. The least she could do was die ferocious instead of cowering.

The maniac boy charged her first, and she dived to receive only a quick sting on her upper arm. It exposed a strip of her skin to the cold. It bled and she barely felt the trickles. She focused instead on the inflation of her lungs and the trembling of her leg. ”Guess you both really don't like me huh?” The blonde boy asked, and she watched his every movement. She wouldn’t fall for a diversion. "No matter, I never wanted people to like me anyway."

”This isn’t about like or disl—“

He barreled like a bull and she darted. Her attempt to make a getaway to Katelyn ended with a mouthful of snow. The wind left her lungs in a harsh puff and her ribs ached from the fall. She scrambled to pull herself up and then she felt it, the skewed balance. The lighter weight. She rolled to her side and searched.

The pain dropped like a slab of concrete. Like a train hitting the end of her bone until the center split and the marrow leaked out.

She screamed.

And then the rational end of her panicked subconscious noticed the boys’ lingering presences, and activated her defenses. She scooted clumsily back into a tree, panting like a woman in labor until tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She slung her arms around the tree – relying on Katelyn to guard her back – and hoisted herself up, leaning on her axe when she was halfway there. When the blonde boy was within range, she didn’t think. The blinding pain shoved her forward and she grunted with newfound rage.

[attacks Prism – axe]
V8yjkgPHaxe
Deep Gash on Neck -- 10.0 damage

axe

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

"This is the end of the age... singing songs of w a r "

It wasn't exactly the best time for humor, but Katelyn could appreciate the brevity of it. Only minutes ago she had resigned herself to never seeing Marc and Lexi again, save for their face in the sky at night, or as an enemy trying to kill her. This, this was good, even with the two boys hacking away at her, Katelyn was relieved to see her alive. On their own, their chances of survival were slim, but together they had a better shot at walking away from the forest.

Hornboy spouted something about liking him or not but the words were lost on Katelyn as Ellexias tried to get to her. It didn't matter whether someone was well liked by another tribute or not at this point; with only six people left, every death brought the remaining tributes closer to home and one step closer to one foot in the grave, if they weren't there already. And then it happened. Lexi made for an opening and was rewarded by three's ice pick coming down hard on her leg and severing it from the knee down, much as Katelyn had done to the career from four in the bloodbath.

Without meaning to, she clasped her free hand to her mouth to stifle a scream as Lexi dragged herself towards a tree and away from her body part, leaving a crimson trail behind in the snow as she did so. Katelyn let out an agonized wail that nearly matched her friends scream for volume and decibel. Just like when Marc had lost his, she was powerless to stop it, and Lexi had been the one to fix him, not her. What did this mean for Lexi? What could Katelyn do for her? At that moment, the only conclusion she could arrive at was to kill hornboy before Lexi lost any more body parts. If lexi was going to die, she deserved a much more peaceful one then being carved up like a pumpkin and left to rot.

The moment of shocked inaction having passed, "Get away from her!" erupted out of her mouth with a panicked shrill in its tone. She hurried to get to Lexi's side, but in her haste to do so, she slipped on the slushy snow blood and nearly lost her footing, only just barely managing to catch herself before she fell, the severed leg staring her in the face. A multitude of emotions assaulted her at once, fear, desperation, and anger being chief among them. Another hatchet left her throwing hand and buried itself in hornboy's leg, spreading the gooey liquid around the cut and setting it on fire, though it didn't consume his body the way it had done to the boy from ten.

That at least, was a small comfort. 

-Katelyn attacks Prism w/throwing axes-
c5elPo3b200+10000
- Deep Gash on Thigh -- 8
1-50
+8

[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

[Knuckles]

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

Prism had always been a strange one. Never knowing what he was up against. I never understood him. Quiet and different. In love with a man that he just met who died only a day after. One that stood by my side. He's fought along with me, yet left me alone in the midst of the battle field after watching the only man he ever cared about fall. In a way it was amusing, but in another it was sickening. Watching these people become friends and fall in love with one another wasn't what this was about. This is about killing. About making sure that the crown is placed upon my head once the other five die.

Am I really that close?

The snow glistens in the trees coating them a beautiful white color, and if it wasn't for me being here in the arena, I would run up to one and attempt to figure out what was so magnificent about it. To see what the rest of the world sees right now as blood leaks from the wounds endlessly created on the wounds of those around. It's the battle to the death. Fighting amongst the rest of those who care. Fighting for the right to return home as victor of the hunger games. It's a thirst with only one way of quenching.

My blade caught the girl off guard as Prism ran forward with the ice pick high into the sky. Blinded by rage like a bull in the midst of a standoff with a red flag dancing before it. And she's falling as the leg quickly falls from the rest of her body. Blood spews against the white snow making it angry. Painting it red like the rest of the snow has been created. My eyes wide with joy as I watch the leg lay on the ground. I want to eat it. I want to feast upon this beautiful piece of skin, but right now it would mean my death.

I keep my eyes fixed on her as she scratches against the ground moving backwards trying to find something to grab a hold of. Something to pull her into the air. Something to make sure her death didn't come by my own hands. A gust of wind slaps me across the face, and I almost turn away from the gruesome scene, but it's not something one can do. The three of them here must die. Three of them will suffer the ultimate death as the crown is placed upon my head. She's on her foot quickly and she's lunging forward with her own ice pick. Holding it with the means to kill.

And she almost severed his head.

Turning towards him, my eyes filled with despair for only a moment, yet he's still standing. Prism Nixton hasn't fallen. He's fighting for his life along with this girl from district six. I've only seen her once in this entire arena. Along with the girl from eleven. Prism has been by my side since the beginning. Letting him die now would be a sin. Letting him fall from grace by the arm of a stupid little girl isn't one I'm wanting. He deserves a much honorable death than that. He deserves the chance of surviving, yet only one can survive. "Come on, Prism. I'm right beside you." It's a mere whisper as another gust of wind sweeps the words away.

"I'm... I'm... so glad you are... But I'm sorry bud... I gotta go now... Wyatt and Mason are waiting for me... thanks for being here for me Chazz... I'm sorry..." His words hit me hard. Straight in the heart. Piercing me straight through the bone. Wyatt. Mason. Prism. Mystic. A low growl forms in the back of my throat and it takes everything I have to contain it. My name is not Chazz. But he's dying. He's leaving me behind, and for that, I won't retaliate. I won't press this blade against his skin. I won't do anything except stay by his side.

And I can't take it anymore.

Loud roars of laughter continue flowing from my lips as I stare down my prey waiting for the right moment to attack. Waiting for the perfect opportunity. Perhaps that's my downfall.

They're screaming, and I'm laughing. But the moment the axe flies towards Prism, my heart sinks deep into my chest. Shrieks fly from my lips in place of the laughter. These girls will pay. I want blood. To feast. To eat. To make sure that the entire world knows who I am. My eyes turn towards the one legged girl. Drool flows down the side of my face. I'm hungry, and I must eat.

Blood pours from the wounds freshly pinned against him. It's spurting against my skin. Spurting against my bones, and I can feel it, and I can taste it. His burning flesh throws an odor that I survived with yesterday, and today it's before my eyes. Flying up my nostrils. Each gust of wind spreads it further and further throughout my entire body as a simple realization sets in.

I'm powerless.

I couldn't save Mason.

I couldn't save Wyatt.

And now I can't save Prism.

Shrieks fly from my lips mixing with the sound of those around me. The wind. The screaming of the wounded one legged girl. The sounds of the girl from eleven trying to get to her. The sound of Prism himself. Each breath becomes reality. Each step brings me one step closer to having the ultimate goal of wearing the giant crown upon my head. I didn't want to watch him die like Mystic. Like Mason. Like Wyatt. Like every person in this arena.

I don't care that she has a family. I don't care that people want her to return home. If it were possible, steam would fly from my ears. My heart prances beneath my chest as the entire world slows down. Sounds are muffled beneath the weight pressing down upon my shoulders, and all I can hear is the beating of my heart. It blocks out everything as my eyes remain fixed on the girl in front of me. Only one thought sits in my mind. Only one thought prepares to surge throughout my entire body. My eyes wide. Pupils dilated. Every hair standing on end as blood continues covering my body. It's kill or be killed. It's survive or die. We're all just a bunch of wild animals. The corners of my lips twist into a wicked grin.

I am the predator.

And she, is the prey.

{table by zoë}

Chaske attacks Ellexias Verisity

yclANukAglaive
13148 -- Shallow Cut on Right Bicep -- 3.5 damageglaive

[Arrows]

prism nixton

Prism knew he was wrong. Of course he was. He always was. He was wrong in being alive. He was wrong in every way to his father. He was wrong to ever let Dillon leave his grasp. Once again he was just improving his streak. He should have known he was going to die when he saw who they were up against. Yet it still blew him away that Chaske remained unscathed. Perhaps they had all made arrangements for his death. Perhaps it was a trap, Prism wouldn't be surprised.

Prism always knew that Chaske hadn't really liked him. Prism knew that the boy was going to outlive him from the first day they had met back in that training center. Now Prism finally knew where. Prism finally could see the area in which he would be set down to die. Where the hovercraft would come to take him away. Yet when it came he knew no one would care. Not his father. Not Chaske. Not anyone. Prism was alone, a lone light lost in a sea of darkness. All around him the tides of pain and grief were racking havoc on his body.

For the first time in five days Prism actual felt tears slip down his cheeks. He was still human, he wasn't frozen from the inside. He was freed by the flames that flicked and seared his flesh in a horrific sensation. Prism was undergoing a transformation. He was entering his final ascension to the ultimate high. All his sense were on high alert, do or die. Though he could feel which one was going to win.

He had failed Diamond and Deja. He wanted so badly to make them proud and to hug them again. to tell them it would be okay. Yet now Prism had left his dear sister defensless to the onslaught of their abusive father. He would now be able to lash out at her and scream at her with no one to save and comfort her. These monsters before him were stealing him from her. But to them he must also look like a monster, another killer. To them he didn't matter, he was just a stepping stone, their next kill.

Through the icy fray he heard Chaske's distressed voice call out to him. "Come on, Prism. I'm right beside you." Prism turned weakly towards himas his clouded eyes still streamed with the warmth of tears. Softly he shook his head as he laughed weakly. "I'm... I'm... so glad you are... But I'm sorry bud... I gotta go now... Wyatt and Mason are waiting for me... thanks for being here for me Chazz... I'm sorry..." Prism knew Chaske was a strong boy who probably didn't care about Prism's emotions but yet Prism couldn't stop crying as his memories all soared through his head.

"It's amazing... it really is... I can see everyone I miss... I see them all... they are all here with me... they are here to take me home... but I...I... don't know if I'm ready..." With his blood spilling Prism turned back to the girls. His final assault would be on the girl from six. He had already taken her leg and now he would try to take her head, Somehow he had to make Chaske's time easier. He had to make things okay. He had to go out in one tremendous final high.

Prism Nixton Attacks Ellexias Versity with his Axe
8xbsKY7Yaxe
Results: Severed Right Hand at Wrist -- 9.0 damage

ooc-gg

made by anzie

axe

[Python]

ELLEXIAS
we live, we die
we steal, we kill, we lie
just like animals
but with far less grace

”Get away from her!”

Pain blurred her vision. She had witnessed patients submit to unconsciousness from the influence of agony, but she couldn’t fall prey to it now. If the fire consumed her she would burn to ash beneath their blades. Perhaps she wouldn’t register the steel puncturing her skin, but she wanted to wake up again. The next time her body rested in this snow she wanted to sleep and dream and await another day. As excruciating as the Game was, she wasn’t prepared to die. She would rather experience more haunting imagery than submit to death. Fear of the unknown was a plague. Nothingness would be upon her, and she wasn’t ready. She was young and intelligent, inexperienced and passionate. What a waste of a life it would be.

Endorphins assisted as a buffer. It cushioned her pain until it was a dull throb, and in combination with the chilling winds it began to numb. Yet there was no method of ignoring it entirely. She was struggling to balance on one leg, and each time she wavered to one side the severed nerves in her leg fired like an alarm system, warning her of her newfound limits. She managed to lunge forward and rake the edge of her ice pick across the blonde boy’s neck. An ugly slit appeared and sprayed blood, and for a petrifying moment she thought she had severed his jugular. A moment later she realized there wasn’t enough blood. She had wounded him to a great extent, but she hadn’t killed him. It was close, but that wouldn’t cut it. Close was not surviving.

One of Katelyn’s flaming axes soared in the midst of the quartet. It was a lick of unpleasant heat that made her teary eyes blink rapidly. It landed in the snow after it scraped against the blonde boy’s thigh, ripping open another red ribbon of pain – except the fire had singed the edges a grotesque ashy color, and the terrible odor of burning flesh invaded her nose. It triggered her gag reflex but she didn’t react, she couldn’t. She gulped and tried to focus. The pain was too real, the reminders too overwhelming. She didn’t want to see him burn, but she would have to see him die somehow. There was no sign of a change of heart in either of them. They were in it until the end, until Lexi or this other boy died. Perhaps both of them. Perhaps all of them.

She had nearly forgotten the other boy in her moments of frozen agony. He was laughing like a maniac, clearly disturbed whether he had been born with a conduct disorder or had simply lost his sanity to the arena. At this point, it wasn’t important whether she cared about his fragile mental state or not. The disabled were murdered in this arena, and so were the mentally ill. There were no exceptions to make.

A young girl had died here too. Twelve years old. What kind of life was that? Short and sweet, ending sour and brutally.

When he stepped into her range for another swipe it was difficult to maneuver away from his path. Using her ice pick as a crutch, she ducked as best as she could and fell against another tree. There was a new incision in her right arm, but it was an ant bite among panther punctures. It was insignificant. If anything was going to drain her or eat her insides from an infection, it was her exposed stump.

The blonde boy was approaching again, and she raised her axe in a pathetic attempt to deflect his strike. What happened instead she missed in a blink. Her axe disappeared. Blood trickled down her arm in wide rivulets. When she tried to grip her weapon she felt a fresh onslaught of pain pressing her nerves together, tearing her sanity apart when she realized her hand was missing. She curled her injured arm to her chest and cried out, more strangled and weak than her previous scream, and tried to stumble away from her attacker. Her missing leg was forgotten and she tumbled into the snow. Her shoulder ached from the harsh impact. Her ice pick was only a few feet away from her, as was the hand that once held it. Blood leaked from the wrist.

Tears crawled down her pink cheeks. A shadow loomed above her and she twisted in a panic, but it was only Katelyn. She quickly grabbed her weapon and let Katelyn hoist her up by her arm, leaning her weight into her. When she was upright, she stifled a sob and dove for the blonde boy again. She didn’t care about what he had to say. All that nonsense about not being ready – she didn’t care anymore. The fire was inside of her, pouring from her wrist and from her knee.

Her mind was fog.

[attacks Prism – axe]
rLY5KB4Kaxe
Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damage

axe

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

"This is the end of the age... singing songs of w a r "

It was the laughing that did it. The animalistic guffaws that emanated from nine’s mouth. The sound invaded her mind in bursts, like each vibration was a hammer pounding at the inside of her skull, creating a roaring tide of red that enveloped her head. Three was bleeding from a neck wound that he had received moments ago, as well as the tear in his leg, but he was still standing, still had enough clarity to talk, enough frame of mind to utter names and apologies as he stumbled towards Lexi again. Mason. Wyatt. Chazz. She knew the first, and figured that Wyatt had been seven, as Chazz was clearly the one being addressed. Not that it mattered when Ellexias’s leg was lying in a pool of its own blood.

But there was time enough for another tragedy. Prism, as Chazz called him, lurched forward and sliced Lexi’s hand off in a spray of arterial blood. Katelyn screamed again, whipping past him and getting to the other girl. This wasn’t a fight. It was a death sentence, and they needed to get out of the forest and away from the boys immediately. Katelyn hoisted her up, ignoring the blood that was coming from everywhere and trying to get her to hobble on her remaining foot. Lexi obliged to the help and swung her ice pick towards the boy that had taken two limbs from her. The strike hit him in the arm, but it was strong enough to knock him off balance and to the ground. A cannon fired moments later and Katelyn flinched out of habit before turning her attention to the other boy, her damaged ally leaning heavily on her.

"You. Stop laughing!” she shouted through bleary eyes. “”Your allies are all dead! Your district partner is dead! Nineteen tributes are dead!” With every vehement punctuation, her voice rose in strength to the point of frenzy.”IT'S NOT FUNNY! IS THIS FUNNY?”Keeping Lexi steady with her arm, she threw the hatchet directly at him as he turned, the weapon's flame sputtering out but leaving a thin red line on his back."You see this girl I'm holding?" she ground out as fury over the state of Lexi's body overwhelmed her."She killed four tributes to be standing here with me. Kept me safe. Kept Marc safe. Touch her again and I- I'll kill you." she finished loudly, though her voice wavered with fear. Odds were that he'd call her bluff and go for the killshot, but there was always hope. Something that nearly eluded her in the night, right up until she saw Lexi in the clearing.

-Katelyn attacks Chaske w/throwing axes-
seRoM|k9200+10000
-- Shallow Cut on Back -- 4 damage
1-50
extinguished

[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

[Knuckles]

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

He struck her severing her hand from her body the same way he did her leg. He's fighting through the pain. Fighting through everything he's become because nothing matters. He tore apart the reality. Tore apart everything, yet it was too late. She fought back. She struck him.

It was silent.

And then he fell.

BOOM!

I scream at the top of my lungs allowing the wind to carry it away. Mist fills my eyes, but it's nothing more than that. Crying is for the weak, and I am not weak. I am strong. They are weak. Another piece of artwork forms on the ground below me. White snow painted red as blood pours from the wounds of the girl.

A hand lays on the ground next to the leg next to the body of the kid from district three. My mind races as the world comes into view again. My eyes turn in every direction catching glimpses of the war ranging on in the midst of the snow. Raging on around everyone here because of what's happening, but I don't care what's happened. Prism needed to die. This girl needs to die, and I will be the one that kills her. I will be the one that ends her fucking life.

The girl from Eleven is shouting at me. Shouting because she can because she's fucking pissed off, and I'm enjoying every second of it. Laughing because it's exactly what she's telling me not to do.

"You. Stop laughing! Your allies are all dead! Your district partner is dead! Nineteen tributes are dead!" But I can't help but laughing. Laughing at the girl that's laying on the snow bleeding out. Laughing as the girl from eleven yells because yelling does nothing. It doesn't calm me down - in fact it's fueling the flame. Fueling everything about it. Making my veins grow hotter and my eyes grow larger as I turn my attention from the bleeding girl to the girl from district eleven. Her name has no meaning. I've never even fucking heard it except today when the coward from six cried for her.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY! IS THIS FUNNY?"

She's trying to take the fun away, and I will not allow her. I will not allow her the chance to tear me down. To rip everything away from me. To destroy what I've worked so hard to build because in the end nothing is fucking worth it anymore. Nothing. Not even the death of the nineteen others. None of them know me. They don't know nothing about me, and here they are standing here trying to destroy the simple things holding them down to this world. "You see this girl I'm holding? She killed four tributes to be standing here with me. Kept me safe. Kept Marc safe. Touch her again and I- I'll kill you."

I turned around for a second tightening the grip upon the bladed weapon, and it hits me across the back, but it doesn't hurt. Because this entire fucking world has made everything numb. Everything, and once again, I laugh. I laugh about it all. About the fact that nineteen tributes are dead. Four more cannons to sound before the lone survivor walks free from the frozen hell for the rest of their lives. Four more cannons until the crown is placed upon my head. Until the crown is ready to be given to me. This is my kingdom. My crown.

My future.

The thread holding me to reality snaps.

"You listen here you stupid fool. And you listen real close. Do I care that she's killed people? Do I care how many lives she's taking? Do I care that nineteen cannons have sound? NO I DO NOT! You want to know what's so funny? All you had to do was ask." My words grow louder and colder giving each of them a new meaning. I'm not messing around. I'm not doing anything. I am not done.

My grin on my face grows larger and larger. Red stains the whites of my teeth as I allow them to see. The smell of the burning flesh grows stronger with every second. Every passing minute the tension grows as well. "The funny thing is, she's going to die. She doesn't have a leg. She doesn't have a hand. As you can see, they are lying on the ground next to her." I cock my head sideways as the last words fly from my lips, and I use my weapon to point at them. To show them.

But I turn away because I know what could happen if two people attacked me - I just watched it. They killed him. They fucking killed him, and now I'm alone. Now I have nothing left to stand on. Nothing left to hold me. I swear for a second a tear runs down my face, but I quickly swipe it away while itching my ear making it look like nothing has happened. Every villain knows when the fight is done. They know when they're defeated. Turning towards them one last time keeping my eyes fixed on them.

"Mark my words, your bones will make a wonderful crown by the time I am done with you, and I will make sure it's the most painful experience of your entire life."

I turn away from them as my eyes focus on Prism for the last time. My voice barely a whisper as the words fly free. "May you rest in peace bro. May you rest in peace."

Then I run.

{table by zoë}

-uses 5ft of bandages on self -1
-uses first aid on self -3
-flees the fight

[Python]

ELLEXIAS
we live, we die
we steal, we kill, we lie
just like animals
but with far less grace

She aimed to maim and destroy. Agony sank like claws into her conscience, dragging out every shred of desperation lingering in her fatigued system. She was like an animal leaping for prey, morals dampened by suffering. Her mind had been reduced to the basic essence of humanity. Thoughts and feelings orbited the grandiose idea of survival. Her mind wouldn’t process words or tangible thought – only the color red, a dangerous shade dyed by anger and terror and savage desperation. She didn’t feel anything inside of her head. It was all bodily sensation, the fire leaking from her wrist and her leg, the rapid pace of her seizing heart. The color red was behind her eyes, and that was all. Everything was action.

Her ice pick cut across his arm with enough force to send him backwards into the dirty snow. She balanced on one leg, standing over him in expectation for him to scramble to his feet and launch a counterattack. He didn’t budge. The blood pouring from his neck had stained everything a ghastly color. Blinded by pain and panic, she had forgotten his wound and how easily it would drain him. He must’ve been exhausted, helpless, dying. She panted and embraced the emptiness of her insides. There was no sympathy this time, no guilt. It was smothered by her suffering and she knew she would regret these feelings later, but there was a chance that later was a figment of her imagination. She could die with these amputations. She was already feeling light-headed.

She slumped against Katelyn as his cannon blasted. Her friend and savior was screaming frustrations at the maniac boy. He laughed in response and she felt too exhausted to speak up. ”She killed four tributes to be standing here with me. Kept me safe. Kept Marc safe. Touch her again and I- I'll kill you.” Lexi trembled and blinked slowly. Four tributes. It was difficult to process that as anything but a number. Four people. Four human beings dead at her hand, yet all she could think about was how much she wanted this to end. How much she wanted to cry.

Her flying axe didn’t cause much harm. It bounced off of the boy’s back and didn’t scare him off just yet. He shouted about his lack of care, the reasoning behind his humor – my death – and spat violent threats into the dirt before he walked away. She couldn’t harness the energy within her to bite back. He was probably right; no leg, no hand, she could die of infection. And if that didn’t happen, someone else would take advantage of her crippled state. Perhaps it would be him if he decided to pursue that goal tonight. I’m dead. She swallowed a painful lump in her throat. Just not yet.

Her eyes took to the clouds.

[lexi flees]
[uses f/a and 5 ft bandages on herself]

[charade]

Katelyn Persimmon

"This is the end of the age... singing songs of w a r "

Nine had a speech for them. The majority of which was just cruel. Insults. Yelling. "The funny thing is, she's going to die." as he pointed to her missing limbs and mocked them. "Mark my words, your bones will make a wonderful crown by the time I am done with you, and I will make sure it's the most painful experience of your entire life." Katelyn gaped at his brazen words but didn't get to reply as he had some parting words for the corpse and then ran. Indignant, and upset at his words, she settled for flipping him off as his back vanished from view.

The cannon that cut across the arena cut her straight to her heart. There were only two other tributes in the arena besides herself and lexi, and the boy from nine that had just run away into the trees. Which meant the either the cannon belonged to seven. Or it belonged to Marchello. But there was no way to know for certain until the anthem. She walked Lexi a little bit aways from the clearing, but stopped after a few moments and leaned Lexi up against a tree. If she didn’t do something about the wounds soon, there was going to be a third cannon before the day was up. She took out one of her needles and thread, and stared at the other girl with a pitying grimace. “I...you’re gonna have to tell me what to do.”

Lexi acquiesced, and as blood and marrow covered her hands she worked hard,trying to seal up the wounds as best as she could with the bandages and using her thread on the less serious injuries. "I’m staying.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a command, it was just a fact. “Until we know If....I-if.” the rest of the sentence remained unspoken, but there was only one way she could have gone with it. "I don’t think either of us needs to be alone for that.” It wasn’t as if Lexi could argue. She wasn’t going anywhere alone in her current state.

-Katelyn collects her axes-
-Katelyn uses FA on Lexi for -3-
-Katelyn uses N/T 1 use on lexi for -5 -
-Katelyn uses 5ft Bandages on lexi for -1-
-Katelyn helps Lexi flee-

[presto]

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

[/presto]

[googlefont="Montez:400"]