over the tracks [barfs d2]

[анзие (Anz)]

[googlefont="Coda Caption:700"]

krigel

nat

district four male

---

The rain seems to have slowed, but it doesn't change a thing about his apparently perpetual state of drenched. Pushing wet hair out of his eyes, Nat glances over his shoulder at Circe and Gunner, who are somehow still entangled in each other. Even in motion... Nat would consider it a skill if they weren't so disturbingly singular, as though they were both halves of a whole - or something like that.

"You guys okay?" he says, and he can't help the way his eyes skitter away from them, like just by looking he's intruding on something so incredibly personal. 

Nat huffs a breath, and straightens his shoulders, forcing himself to look straight at them. Honestly, I should be used to this. Even in the faux-safety of his own home, Leon had a tendency to exist in this little bubble of his and Finnegan Hood's making, what with the way they seem so wrapped up in each other all the time. Really, Krigel. 

But berating himself does little good; somehow, with the eyes of the Capitol probably fixed on their every little movement, whatever screwed-up relationship Circe and Gunner share seems to be even more personal, even more private following the loss of Elya, and the trials they'd just survived. It's just different. Like watching them was made even more wrong because of how little privacy anyone in the Games has. Like he should be giving them some semblance of such.

It's probably just me, though.

He kind of really misses Orion in this moment. At least with the older male around, even with his penchant for silence, there's someone else for Nat to communicate with while the others... did whatever it is they do.

(He still cringes when he thinks about the night prior.)

"Where are you?" he mutters, peering into the distance.

The train shoots by in a cacophony of shrill and blazing metal, startling Nat into stumbling backwards to the floor. His feet seem to have led them back to the edge of the... area, section, whatever it's called, and the yawning chasm beneath their feet is total darkness. Orion...

He can't be dead. No, it's not a possibility, not at all; Orion has to live, Orion can't leave them without saying goodbye - at least let him say goodbye!

If he could've seen in the sky, made certain of his life... Nat stares into the abyss, lost for all the words he could have shared.

Don't be dead, Hammerfell, or you'll have hell to pay.

He'd better not be dead.

Head in the game. A voice that sounds very much like Arbor Halt stirs Nat out of his thoughts. Yeah, yeah. What was it Circe said they needed? Water, Orion and food. Unless she thinks we can have rain water, the first two are out... for now. Orion had better show up soon. Food... Gunner, if he remembers correctly, had collected the carcass of that toothy thing from the fight earlier. Nat is no expert at hunting, but the meat definitely looked like it was edible. Unlike the thing that was trying to eat Circe.

They need fire.

And for fire...

Nat looks around for who remains of their alliance. 

"I guess we need to... um. Do something. Supplies." The words leave his lips more vague than he'd have liked, and Nat shakes his head clear to stare up at Circe and Gunner. Hm. From his spot on the floor, the fluttering of Circe's net catches his eye, looking very much like something they could use in the near future.

Actually... Nat peers up at the turbine, brows furrowed in thought. The base was all metal, but surely they could find some use for that. Can't they?

"Think we can do something with that?" he calls over to the girls, pointing up at the turbine. 

---

Nat Krigel uses his crossbow to shoot cat-catching net free
Nat Krigel uses rope to try and pull down one turbine

[L△LIA]

[googlefont="Coda Caption:700"]

la torre

gunner

paper route or life route
yeah we be ready

---

It's good that Circe isn't dead.

This is the only thought that crosses Gunner's mind after she tears open the gigantic worm and immediately kisses the girl who had been trapped within its belly. Love has nothing to do with it. The girl from Four won't give her useless heart up to anyone, not unless it's physically torn from her chest, and Circe knows the same way Elya knew the same way every girl Gunner has ever kissed has known. There is distance separating their skin, despite the trick they're playing on Nat's eyes. It's a blindfold made from caution tape for the one line Gunner won't cross.

That doesn't mean she won't press herself against the edge, leaving behind the damnable evidence of her fingerprints. Everywhere fingerprints. They blur the truth away as if smudging glass, because Gunner knows exactly why it's good that Circe isn't dead. If it isn't love, then it must be something selfish and she can't admit that yet. It's too easy to distract herself with lips and hands and necks and collarbones. Even when she comes up for air, it's not to break the surface.

Taking pity on Nat's exasperation, she separates herself from entanglement with Circe and wanders over to watch him attempting to... lasso a fucking turbine. "Think we can do something with that?" She almost makes a joke about Leon and the wild wild west, but it's either reluctance to admit she paid any attention to her mentor or knowing Nat is tired of the comparisons that stops her. Throwing Circe a look over her shoulder, she presses a single finger of silence to her lips and then —

The victory of small war echoes out from Nat's lungs as dizziness swallows up the world. Gunner has him in a headlock, screaming, "Baby Krigel's got aim!" Over and over as they spin round and round in endless circles, the belated words of praise spill from her lips and someone is laughing. Gunner, Circe, Nat — it's hard to tell when everything is muddled up in a blur of triumph. "Worm slayer! Turbine slayer!"

Planting a soggy kiss on his cheek, she wrestles him mercilessly while repeatedly smacking her lips all across his face. The half-yelped incoherence bouncing back and forth between them starts to sound like a protest, yet Gunner only strengthens her hold around his neck. "Shut your mouth, Krigel, you fuckin' love me," and maybe it's just because she's cutting off his air supply, but he can't deny the accusation. The blood and hacked up guts still coating Gunner's arms draw rings around his collar and scatter fresh trails across his face, dripping and blurring in the dying rain as they share more than just what this appears to be.

Elya. Circe. Nat. Their last breaths are the countdown to hers. In the end it won't matter if she ever loved them or not, because these people are all she has left. Even if she wins, the drug lord's daughter can't go back to the home she left behind, because that was another world built from secrets and populated by people who don't exist in public record. Even Iggy Avé's ass had a fake name, but Gunner's face is being simultaneously filmed from a dozen different angles in high definition and broadcast across the entire country. Gunner La Torre is already worse than dead to the underworld she built with her own hands and she knows it.

Cackling as she whirls Nat around in another circle, she flicks her eyes up to Circe and that wicked, toothy grin of hers doesn't fade.

It's good that Circe isn't dead.

It's good that Nat isn't dead.

But, still, she can't admit why.

---

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

[googlefont="Coda Caption:800"]

lyon

circe

district two female

---

It takes her a moment, even as she pushing lips and tongue and gore against Gunner's skin, to process what has happened. The mutt wanted to eat her, not in the way she wanted to devour Kirito, Elya, and Jaime. But to literally end her life by processing her into...

She grabs the back of Gunner's neck, intending to trap her. To consume and be consumed, that is the only ending she can now imagine for herself. It won't be by the hand of a lover; her Romeo has been dead for years. It won't be by the hand of her savior; she's been dead for only a day. Even if she lives for decades more, the best death she can hope for is kissing her right now.

She breaks the kiss with something that might be a moan or a sob before marching herself over to Nat Krigel. This spot she recognizes. "We can do whatever you want, Nat, so long as I don't have to climb back into that thing."

As it turns out, it's not what he wants, or what she wants, but what Gunner wants. And it is so much better than a net. Her world tilts as they fall, end over end. They are elbows and messy kisses and interrupting rain drops. When they finally come to a rest, Circe's arm is hooked around Nat's waist, cushioning him from the muddy ground, and her eyes are locked with Gunner's. "You've been planning that all along, haven't you?" She teases, even as she eases herself out of the embrace. The ting-ting of sponsorship is a siren call, and she can only think about light things for so long before the shadows return.

At the edge of the ravine, a little cannister sinks into the damp earth. Circe claws out it with burnt fingertips, donating flesh to the arena in exchange for a medical kit. But it's not the real prize. She marks the note with her own blood as she rips the seal.

Hammerfell's alive. XOXO - Cricket

That's all it takes for her heart to lift. "ORION!" She yells, counts to ten. "ORION!" She waves vaguely back at Nat and Gunner, trusting the rain and the quiet to keep them safe. She picks a path between the turbines, following the ravine, one hand always at her bow, the other cupping her raw lips to scream his name. She thinks she hears something like a K in the screaming wind. She steps to the edge of the ravine, buffeted by wave after wave of gushing air. For a second, it is silent and still. In the mist beyond the tracks, a figure.

"Is it really you? I must be dreaming."

"Well then wake up and smell the... I can't smell anything. WAKE UP, ORION!" The train roars passed, snatching the last of her words and drowning his. She thinks maybe he says, "you disappear," but she's still standing right there, lifting her bow.

The train passes, the wind ebbs. "I'm not going anywhere without you. I can't believe you're right there. Have you seen a bridge? Anything we can use to get across?" He's impossibly far away, but for a second, their eyes lock across the distance. She reaches for him.

"Nothing I can use to get across. Unless you prefer I jump?"

"NO!"

And that's it. That's all they will let her have. The storm clouds descend, heaviness and obscurity. She paces the edge of the ravine, hissing, bow notched. Because she'll be damned before she lets Orion suffer a long and painful death after a fall. But there's no thud, no shaking of the earth. If he leaps, he lands. If he doesn't, he is only a train track away. "We are coming for you, Orion Hammerfell." She promises.

By the time she returns to camp, her messenger bag is organized, her arrows accounted for, her face as clean as it can be with rainwater. She has twisted her hair into a bun and discarded the acid soaked jacket. Her white shirt clings to every knobby curve, but at least it is mostly unsullied. "He's alive and he's not far," she reports, and then comes to a halt. "What in the name of the reaping machine are you two doing?"

---

OOC Notes
Circe receives medical kit and note from Cricket Antoinette.
She patches herself with up with N/T -5 from the previous fight.
Orion lines with permission from Cato

[анзие (Anz)]

[googlefont="Coda Caption:700"]

krigel

nat

district four male

---

The rope he sent flying wayward into the air has barely somehow looped around a blade of the turbine when Nat's yanked into the blood-slippery hold of Gunner La Torre; his hands yank the rope tight as he's pulled away into circles and circles and cheer, leaving a red burn on the palms of his hands when the rope whips free from his grasp.

But despite feeling raw he can't stop the laughter escaping his lungs, catching the air in puffs of half-bodied breaths that sound like gasps as oxygen struggles its way into his wheezing lungs. Gunner's arms are a cage around his neck, her lips wet on every inch of his face, her voice strengthened with something that can only be joy filling his ear. Somewhere connected to them both is Circe, her body pressing against his like touch and go, and maybe his own lips press against skin that might be hers might be Gunner's as they spin round and round until the sky sits at their feet and the ground threatens rain on their skin. 

"Worm slayer! Turbine slayer!"

He's helpless spilling laughter from every cell in his body, tears curled at the edge of his eyes like the ones he didn't spill before when it wasn't hair but smoke in his eyes and the burn in his lungs wasn't the lack of air but the pain of breathing. Gunner's hold is tight and strong, and though his fingers reach for her skin for freedom, Nat isn't intimidated by this woman the way he was when she walked into the carriage all those days ago. He's not afraid, not like that.

I think I love you, Nat thinks later, when up and down becomes distinct once more. He looks at them: Circe and Gunner, both of them with limbs entwined, but Circe has her arm curved around Nat's waist, and Gunner has her leg locked over them both. 

It's comfortable here.

He could have lain there for days were it not for Circe pulling herself free from the knot they've tied themselves in; without her warmth the dynamics between him, the ground and Gunner changes. With a low groan, Nat rolls to his feet and stretches, back arching like a bow. "I guess I'd better get back to doing... that." Nat gestures towards the turbine with the rope still hanging off its... whatever. "I could use some help?" 

Maybe attempting to throw in puppy eyes is a bit much - it is Gunner La Torre he's talking to, and there's little chance of her coming along. Even when she does.

His rope-burnt hands catch the flailing end of the rope, and a glance picks out a good candidate for his plan. The boulder off to the side looks movable enough. 

"What in the name of the reaping machine are you two doing?"

"Turbine," is all Nat says, because his mind is locked on the first six words that left Circe's mouth: "He's alive and he's not far." Orion is alive. God damn him, he's alive. The rope falls from his numbed fingers, and Nat stares at Circe, his eyes wide and hopeful and tell me where he is Circe, please?

"Orion?" Nat says, and gazes past Circe from where she came. The train is long gone, but its path is still visible through the light rain. Somewhere, over the tracks: Orion.

"Is that him? Orion!"

His feet have taken him away from the girls, from the boulder and his plans to tear down the arena; in the distance, he hears his name. "Nat? Nat! Tell me this isn't some cruel trick the Gamemakers are playing."

Orion...

"I could say the same of you, asshole!" Nat yells. "Where have you been?"

The response is a little louder, and Nat almost laughs when he hears: "Looking for you, Circe and Gunner. I trust your innocence is still a thing?" Yeah, with those two...

"What innocence?" he jokes, because with Gunner by their side, innocence is but a myth. But he's smiling, because Orion - Orion is nearby! We'll get you, Hammerfell.

They'll get him back.

"Just what has happened since I was gone?"

"Um," Nat says, belatedly realizing that Orion probably couldn't have heard that. "I'll fill you in when I don't have to yell. Look, we're going to try something. You're not headed below anytime soon, are you?"

He thinks he hears Orion say something about Circe and no jumping, and if Circe has threatened Orion then Orion won't fall below them again. Good. "Stay put - and don't jump down there again!"

Wheeling about, Nat jogs back towards Gunner and Circe. "He's alive," he says, and there's a big grin on his face like relief and happiness blended to form his smile. "Damn him, he's alive."

---

Nat Krigel receives Jar of Tar in sponsorship
Nat Krigel ties the end of his rope to a roly-poly boulder with Gunner's help
Orion dialogue as blurbed with Cato

[L△LIA]

[googlefont="Coda Caption:700"]

la torre

gunner

all my life i want money and power
respect my mind or die from lead shower
i pray my dick get big as the eiffel tower so i can fuck the world
for seventy-two hours

---

With Circe gone, evidently there's nothing better to do than play with boulders... which is fair enough. Nat does most of the grunt work while Gunner points and laughs, "Baby Krigel, there are better ways to fuck around than this." The taunting doesn't stop him from tying rope around it and she has to smack his hands away and retie the knots for him so it doesn't fall apart the second he starts pushing the giant rock around again. Obviously one of them has experience tying things up and the other one doesn't realize there's an art to getting it done.

Gunner La Torre would have made a great boyscout.

"What in the name of the reaping machine are you two doing?" The girl from Two finds her way home only to discover that the people she left behind have tethered a turbine to a boulder that they're preparing to roll down a manhole into the great unknown.

"I know it looks like a worthless boulder," Gunner explains while casually whipping a stack of cash out of her pocket, tugging a hundred dollar bill free and duct taping it to the boulder, "but now it's really worth something." The manpower of the operation takes off after hearing that Orion is still alive and just across the train tracks, while she just stands there shrugging. "The roundness confuses him. Baby Krigel thinks this is what he has to do to be a baller." Casually leaning against the boulder, she waggles her eyebrows at the face of disbelief staring back at her. "I'm the Baller Maharishi."

With a push of momentum, she kicks the boulder over the edge into the sewers while throwing herself onto Circe. The rock rolls down down d o w n, the girls roll away to safety, and the turbine doesn't roll so much as it crashes. Rope snapping from the force of it hitting the ground, the collision is too loud for Gunner to even hear her own screaming laughter, deaf with adrenaline, and when Nat returns she can tell his mouth is moving, but swears nothing is coming out.

There is a messy hole in the earth where the mud let metal go free and Gunner is looking down at it when the persistent ringing in her ears turns to beeping, parachutes falling from the sky. First comes a new jar of tar that she adds to the fortune in her backpack, but then come the condoms — one for each of them. She picks hers up and turns it over within her hand, laughing hysterically before tossing it to Nat.

"My dick is too big for that."

---

[dick too big for condoms, sorry]
[duct tapes $100 to boulder]
[receives jar of tar via sponsorship]

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

[googlefont="Coda Caption:800"]

lyon

circe

district two female

---

i literally am so sorry, monet!

filler #1 for day #2!

TURKEYS!

---

OOC Notes
they lasso some pudgy little turkeys
which are totally inedible but really adorable
gobble gobble gobble