End Of The Rails // Triplets vs Levaithans Day 3

[Arrows]

- Kirito Miristioma -

"Even when you think you have lost yourself, remember why you are here.."

The wind whispered horrible things about the lives Kirito had stolen with a glint of his blade. Yet their voices did not matter to him any longer. In truth he could only half hear them anyway with his weakly stitched bloody hole of an ear reminding him constantly of the nature of these games. There were no nice people and no cute little puppy dogs to hold and love. No everything in this arena wanted you dead, even yourself at points when you believe that there is no more light to guide your wandering shadow. Yet still you always find yourself still fighting. Still shedding blood, but why? Since you truthfully want to survive? Wrong. Because humans are savage beasts and the games only prevail this side of humanity to the world. Apparently the side shined well on Kirito's moist skin caused by the falling drizzle.

Kirito and his allies did not get very far away from the scene of their latest act against morals before the pathetic bitch from district two Olivia barked out that she was tired and wouldn't go any further. Didn't she understand that there was no place for whining children in these games only monsters. If she was going to stay hidden behind the walls of her complaints then let her rot. Her life was of no value to him, sure she was his ally but only for so long. Eventually they would turn their weapons against each other. If they even made it that far. Either way she would never return back to her district with her current mentality.

As the world shifted to a darker dim the lights slowly twinkled away into a ghastly void leaving only the sound of quaint dripping. With every gentle splash of a drop all Kirito could hear was the sounds of dripping blood. All he could see was blood sprinkling down from above bathing him in its grotesqueness. It was the perfect place for a beast. Kirito's monster smirked at the visions as the true light beneath the hell hound's pelt flickered weaker and weaker with every kill. Just accept the fact that your time is over Kirito, this isn't a world for a weak ass bitch like you. Kirito's darkness lashed out at him again as its chains dug deeper into his subconscious skin.

With a slight jump Kirito's sullen eyes lifted to the sky as a half ass anthem blared into the arena from the clock tower. Shockingly no faces appeared as the darkness final rolled back into place. A deep twisted laugh shook Kirito's body rustling the mud beneath him. "Isn't that just great!" He bellowed hysterically to his allies "Now that twenty two of us are still alive Day Three is going to be even more hell! Even more BLOOD!" Another laugh ripped through Kirito's teeth as invisible tears soaked his cheeks. Perhaps the healer had finally accepted his new role.

The night seemed to fade all to quickly as the morning waves of dawn filtered over Kirito's face. Kirito hated traveling just about as much as he dislike the constant nagging of Olivia from the day earlier. Thankfully she hadn't started complaining yet so perhaps she wouldn't at all. That would be a sweet treat. However Kirito couldn't help himself from glancing over at Rhyme. Although he would never tell her he was highly concerned for her. Luckily though she was a hard cookie who would take a lot more than a few missing fingers to crack.

Then in a moment everything changed. One sound caused the monster to roar from within the pelted body Kirito wore. Already his knife was drawn and his eyes scanned for a weak point on his foes. It was startling how easy it was for Kirito to be so prepared to slash open another's neck. Yet all that didn't matter as Kirito let his blade dive towards the first weak point he spotted.

Kirito Attacks Simon with his Switchblade
91aXw5ayknife
{deep gash on forehead 9.0}
Kirito uses his jar of tar and one match to light his blade on fire
1-50

{Extinguished}

knife�1-50

[arx!!]

Simon Karnes

We had planned to stay off the trains, but as a storm rolled in we were forced to get back on anyway. It grew darker and darker as we all sat there just simply listening to the click-clack of the train rolling smoothly over the tracks. After being nothing more than a literal burden, my bum legs refusing to be of any help, I’m thankful to simply be sitting.

I’m angry. I don’t want to be, but the frustration is finally shining through now that I feel less defeated, broken, and scared. My hand still aches as all of the stress I have been placing on it keeps it from even beginning to heal. My other hand aches as the internal burns rise to the surface of my skin causing bubbling and a painful sensitivity. I sit staring out into the darkness, my head against the window, and my jaw set in such a way that I can feel my pulse beating in my temple.

I’m here, still alive.

And I’m going to kill the next person I see.

I hear a clang and look up. Nothing. I don’t think it’s anything. But I reach down and scoop up my knives all the same, ready to take aim if anything does happen to approach. My arm twitches. I grumble.

I look back to my reflection in the window. I see a flash of blonde and I know I am dreaming. I sit up straighter and stare at the distorted blonde face in the window. Esmeralda? My throat tightens and my heart begins to beat, beat, beat as I think of home. Of her. I blink a few times and the flash of long blonde hair is still there. I find myself smiling.

But just as soon as the blonde flash in the window appears it is gone again. And so is my smile.

And then I roar.

Blood rushes into my eyes before I slap my free hand onto my forehead in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing. I look around, blinking to try and find the enemy who had struck me. I see a flash of blonde and don’t hesitate for even a moment before letting a blade fly from my hand.

“Why don’t y’all fuck off, huh?!”

[Simon attacks Rhyme with Shuriken #1]
|HSedmsUthrowing knife
[Shallow Cut on Chest -- 4.0 ]

throwing knife

[Stare]

34:56:03OO

through hell's gate
the ground shakes
valor wakes
and so it begins

It was late when it began.

I should have seen it coming. I should have predicted it, calculated the odds in my head. Two dead in two days… it wasn’t enough. They would need to drive us together somehow, to create more bloodshed. And yet, I remember shock mingling with pure fear in my bloodstream as the world went so dark that we might as well have been blind. Essential function lost, my mind had screamed at me as I’d stumbled to my feet, fumbling around for my things and then my allies. My back felt like it was on fire. Salt rubbed in a wound, I suppose. Operations will be greatly hindered. “Stella!” I’d bellowed over the roar of the wind, the taste of the air stinging on my tongue. “Simon! We have to get out of here!”

It was dangerous to move from an area that we knew was safe, but it was even more dangerous to stay. Who knew what the Gamemakers would throw at us next to push us into other tributes?

Throughout the night, it was the darkness that scared me the most. I was never afraid of the dark back in Three. I had candles up in the tower, but only because I needed them to see my drawings and blueprints. Even then I would squint in their faint glow, trying to get the measurements just right. I’d lean over those stained pieces of paper until my back ached, until my eyes were blurred with sleep, and then I’d blow out the candles and stumble into bed and watch the stars through the holes in the wall. In the mornings I would wake before sunrise to work, fumbling around to pull my boots and jacket on. No, darkness was always welcome in my life. It was a time of quiet planning, of watching the sky.

I can’t see the sky now. I can’t see the stars or the moon. And there is nothing to plan but the death of twenty one other tributes, nothing to dream about but a life haunted by hundreds of ghosts. Now the darkness is equivalent to nothingness, swelling and clawing at the inside of my chest until it threatens to swallow me whole. I don’t want it. I want out. But the only way one truly leaves this Arena is in a box - the victor survivor will spend the rest of their days here, unable to rip their mind away. And is that really a life worth fighting for?

Eventually we find the train - we hadn’t meant to board, not again - and stumble into shelter. We sit in silence. There are no more ghost stories to be told, not here. We’re all too battered and tired. I tilt my head back against the window and glance down at my clock, then snap it shut in frustration. Time passes so slowly here. At home it had a rhythm. One, get up, two, get to work, three go to bed, four get up again. It was tedious some days but always steady. Here the beat of time is chaotic - sometimes it whips past so quickly it stings, and other times it drags on until I think that it’s stopped completely. My eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

That’s all it takes. The next second I hear the sound of something ripping through flesh, of Simon’s shout, and my eyes snap open to take in a face I’d hoped I’d never see again. (But honestly, darling, that’s a lie. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to ensure he received the punishment he deserved.) And suddenly I’m spiraling downward into memories that flash between watching the stars with him and holding her dead body and it’s all so twisted and wrong. It would be a stretch to say I trusted him - trust takes more than a few hours to build, especially when it’s likely you’ll be stabbing the person the next morning - but I hadn’t expected him to be the one to kill Rowan.

But he was. And it ignites something in me, something burning and angry and roaring. I rise to my feet slowly, though, regarding him with half dead eyes. “Kirito Miristioma,” I say steadily, but Ripred it hurts to say his name. I will slaughter you. That was the promise I’d made him, so many hours ago when Rowan’s final breath shuddered into the air. But now that he stands before me, it’s not enough to kill him. It’s not enough to see him bleed out like she did. So instead I turn to Simon’s target, my eyes flashing toward Kirito for a split second.

“This is how it feels.”

vengeance waits
fury reigns
with all at stake
and so it begins

[Kiena attacks Rhyme with Shuriken (1)]
oIkM11Ssthrowing knife
[deep gash on back, 8.5 ]

throwing knife

[Avalon]

stella summit

district seven

let the skyfall
when it crumbles

---

The night had left just as quickly as it had come.

Two days have passed- sailed on by with the death of only two tributes. One being an ally- a family member, one who went by the beautiful name Rowan, one to go with her beauty inside and out. While the lack of deaths over the days ensured our survival, it wasn't enough for the entertainment factor. And surely one thing would lead to another, it was predictable, but all at the same time no one knew what was coming.


The Capitol anthem rings out in the distance, shining- illuminating down upon the arena. It sent the world into a hue of various shades of blue, the new found light was comforting in the darkness, but I couldn't pinpoint why though. It was until the Capitol Seal disintegrated that the words that were thrown at us "No Fallen" made things understandable.


And as the Anthem ended, stealing the light from us, leaving us left in a dark world that it became apparent. The howling winds picked up, as well as a small rock form of a mineral in it's wake.

"Stella!"

"Simon! We have to get out of here!"

It was an instant reaction, and sent me shuffling for my items that were left scattered across the ground. It wasn't until the thick cloud had ran over us like a train upon tracks that I felt it. Burying deep within the open wounds and stitches, the salt burned beyond compare, and it was in my only interest to get out as soon as possible.


We were running from a wild fire that had flickered and lit into existence itself. One that exposed itself, burning away at our flesh and all we could do is run- run. Run until we could run no more, and never look back, because if you look back then you'll slip. And if you slip you'll surely fall, for that is how it worked. That is how it always worked. And while it's tempting to look back, urging to take your focus, you have to fight it. You have to be stronger than it.


["You let the fire out
and it's right in front of me
words crashing through the flames
smoke spreading far
and i thought
we'd remain
free from it's harm.
will we burn?"]


The fire flickered into existence within.
My lungs were becoming corrupt, a mixture of fatigue, weakness, salt and fire were passing through it with each breaths. My limbs were set aflame by not only the fire that chased us, but the one that burned within. For the one that burned within was lit by passion and determination, and for that- it was the only reason I remained.


["Face it don't turn around
there's no running from the heat."]


It takes days- hours- minutes- seconds-
Eternity. Coming upon a train in the near distance we stacked inside it for the remaining of the storm. It was safe, and we were finally safe, for the train sailed along the tracks, traversing throughout the arena smoothly. Resting my head down on a leather seat, my eyes fluttered for a while, as I tried to stay awake. But the fatigue took over and the flame died down and I finally closed my eyes for seconds- minutes- hours-


Through a loud shout, I instantly withdrew from my state and scanned the cart for intruders. It was then that I laid my eyes on the very people that attacked Rowan during the Bloodbath. My eyes jumped from each of them, until landing on a clear figure of the boy that had made the final hit, ending her life. And I hate him. Even when I think back to the lunch we spent together in the Capitol. Even when I was fully aware that he had to do what he had to do to survive. Even when I didn't want to hate him, I couldn't bring myself to anything else. The fire lights back up to it's full form and it is ready to devour everything in it's path of victory.


One hit from Kirito to Simon-
One- Two lashes from Simon and Kiena to Rhyme-

"This is how it feels"

With no hesitation, I take my spear and aim for the nearest target. It didn't matter who at this point. But as I do so, my lips tremble for a slight second, as they attempt to form an "I'm sorry" with the words to match. But I wasn't sorry, they surely weren't sorry for killing Rowan, and I refuse to feel sorry. Sorry is for the weak and-


["You are not weak Stella. Look at how for you've gotten."]

[Stella attacks Imp Stole with Spear]

ITM|N6n7spear

[result]

3198 -- Block -- 0.0 damage

[accuracy reroll]
spear
[result]

3163 -- Block -- 0.0 damage
of course ripred wtf

---

we will stand tall
face it all together
at skyfall

table by anzie

spear�spear

[*]

Never before in the games had Olivia thought that she would be the one competing and fighting against so many others. Already, the days have mashed into one. One fight always leads to another and starting the third day had her absolutely freaked out. With shortened nails, she pulls her finger from her mouth, spitting out the nail that she just seperated and released. With a moment of rest, her brown eyes scanned her other alliance members. They didn't look half as bad as they did yesterday and with the journey that they needed to make this day, it was only going to be tough and so be it when the salt storm hit and they found the train in the middle of it.

However, it wasn't going to be just as planned for something dark was fixing to happen. Her fingers griped onto the staff the moment that silence was bombarded by the sound of strangers boarding this train. THose strangers weren't going to be just another mutt, she was hoping. Then again, it would probably be easier if it was for the moment that she saw who happened to make their way into their view is when their voices spat out Kirito's name and then attacked the one standing nearest to him.

Rhyme.

"No!" Olivia screamed out but before she could even try to attack them, before she could even move, the other two were more prepared than she and brought themselves closer to Rhyme and Imp beside her. "Leave them the fuck alone, you hear me? I swear to ripred, I will slit you from naval to nose if you touch them again!"

Rage was evident on her face with how her brows furrowed and her lips pursed together as if she had been forced to eat something so hideous and for once, she couldn't stomach the idea of any member of her alliance dying. She'd been getting closer to them all since meeting at the center and there was no way in hell she was going to let them take away something so precious to her.

In one heated moment of anger, she let the spear in her hand be mentally replaced in her mind with her old broken staff, Saba, and brought it down against the soul who dared to touch Rhyme first and with a grunt of power, was blinded until she brought it back to her side.

(Olivia Attacks Simon)
BNkkxEoMspear
Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damagespear

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

My body moves to the drum

but my mind is always still

"A train! A train! A train! Would you, could you on a Train?" The four fingers remaining on my right hand envelopes Kirito's arm as we trek further. Probably isn't the time to be fooling around, but we did receive those condoms...And if Olivia & Imp aren't in need of their's, that leaves a whole lot of Audience pleasing left on us. I'm not complaining. Hell, my soul might be consumed as my fingers were, in which case I fully intend on living it up while I can. A distraction from my stubs sounds fantastic right now. But I can feel the tension aluminating off of Kirito. Every time I lock around his elbow, his muscles are more stiffened then the last. He's patiently waiting to erupt in the manner I don't prefer, and I can't change that.

Shoes clack heavily against the concrete stage beneath out, louder then even damn heels are. There's no fear over being desecrate though. Too many Tributes are surviving, and I'm itching to slit their throats with the seven fingers I have left. We board the train. Every isle and cart is scooped out, only to discover that we're indeed not alone. Instantly Kirito's bolting for the blood he craves, forming a proud grin across my cheeks. Little Healer boy from Eleven can rip open skin as nicely as he patches it up. My satisfaction is quickly brought to a reality check as Kirito's victim then turns to me instead of him.

His blade rips through my shirt and skims across my chest. Pervert. But of course, before I can provide a witty comeback, someone else's knife buries into my back. A low growl rings past my throat. "Bitches get Stitches." Which is exactly why I'm going to need some myself, but at least I can own up to that. What confuses me the most about myself is what I do next. They want to play the game of harming alliance members to include the mental pain? I'll participate in those rules. We're a team, hence my reasoning for turning to the one who pathetically misses hitting my Imp Stole. Even if she didn't manage to lay a finger on her, I'm going to make her regret trying.

TAG: @user | WORDS: ### | NOTES: HERE

                                MEL @ ADOXOGRAPHY

{Rhyme Morales Attacks Stella with Knife}

cpSg5jyyknife

{2091 -- Shallow Cut on Right Hip -- 3.5 damage
(Knife)}knife

[Lorenza Aita ~ D1f {Sitter}]

Filler sorry Grim is currently away but promised to fill these in when he returned. He simply wanted to allow the fight to continue.

Imp Stole Attacks Stella with Bow
NOmdRxeibow
result

made by anzie

weapon

[Arrows]

- Kirito Miristioma -

"Even when you think you have lost yourself, remember why you are here.."

In a little less than a blink of an eye the dull pale train car had erupted into a vast landscape of red. Off to Kirito's right Olivia hollered as their foes charged Rhyme. Kirito nearly jumped out of his shackles at the sight of her ripped back. His monster wailed for blood but Kirito couldn't move. His feet were frozen to the floor like magnets as images of Rowan's corpse and the stars flashed vividly before his eyes. He had betrayed her, he had stolen someone close to him. Now she had come to repay the debt he had thrown upon her without a single hesitation. I won't let her! The beast sneered but for once in the past three days Kirito fought back. Doing his best to grasp the brink of darkness and to release himself from his demise.

Still the chants of his evil deeds swam like sharks around him. One after another tearing deeper and deeper into the weak light he still had. Key... you have to know... you have to know what it has done to me. Kirito's pleas were pathetically pushed aside by the monster's brutality. No! She doesn't she already knows! You killed her ally and most likely her friend! You are a sinner Kirito! One who will rest in the darkest pits of hell! Until that day I promise to make your life even more miserable! So shut up and just go back to being nonexistent like a good little bitch! 

Normally Kirito would let go and just sink back to the icy floor of his mind but this time was different. Whether it be the blood that surged from Rhyme's back or the presence of another memory he didn't know. What he did know was that as a healer he had to protect those who mattered. Still though he had to find a way to crawl back to the light of day to speak to her. Just once more, even if the hatred in her eyes showed just how much she despised him. 

In a single blast of effort Kirito crashed through the ceiling of the dark as he face twisted and his shaking voice rose out to her. "Key!" He called dimly while fending off the demons of the dark. "Ya are wrong!" Emotional pain seared Kirito as his guilt shoved images of his betrayal deeper into his face. "How it feels... how it feels is to have to lose yaself! To know ya ain't home in ya own body. To neva stop seenin' the face of a persun who did nuthin' to ya! To spend every single secund knowin' a life can neva be repayed! You can still be forgivun! Me, well hell I could apologize a million times an' it will neva make a differunce! Still, I want ya to know.... I truly am sorry. Even if ya don't give a damn!" Then it was over. Kirito's strength concaved as the darkness spread back over his limbs. 

Now all Kirito could do was listen to the sounds of distant screams and horrifying rumbles. He wondered what the hell could be happening else where, however his thoughts were answered by the sound of two thundering canons. Day three was alive and so was the beast. Patiently Kirito waited and watched their moves until finally he noticed his window. Then with a flash he shot out his knife swiftly towards the boy with the blonde hair. 

Kirito Attacks Simon with his Switchblade
|uaMdfIXknife
{Shallow Cut on Stomach -- 4.0 damage}

knife

[arx!!]

Simon Karnes

I see my leg bleeding, but I don’t feel a thing. Useless, useless, useless --- every limb on my body, every blade tossed. Just simply useless. I can’t even try to run away from the knife and spear being jabbed in my direction. It’s a two on one fight, or rather, a two on nothing fight. I’m missing a foot, paralyzed in my right leg. My left hand is broken and the other twitches uncontrollably. And now my head is bleeding into my eyes. I’ve got nothing but a beating heart making me human. Making me alive.

But even then I’m certain I died the day I left District 10. I’m just a beating heart.

I used to be able to preoccupy my mind with mundane activities. I could feed the cows, shear sheep, pick apples all day, repair fences, build boats and sheds, cultivate fields, pull weeds, kick up dust on a long dirt road, split wood, shovel horse shit, or read, read, read until I wasn’t even in this world anymore. All of those things kept me from realizing that I was not only a useless person, but a the worst kind of useless person; I was a murderer. And a failure of a big brother.

Now there were no animals except the kind that wanted to eat me, no wood to cut, no big blue open skies or long dirt roads. No apples, no fields, and only a fairytale book to read. But I couldn’t even make myself look at the front cover. I was as afraid of tears as I was of death.

Curse words and screams echoed around in the train cars, layering together in such a way that reminded me of the bloodbath only 3 days ago. Only this time I couldn’t run away like I was accustomed to. This time I would have to stay, have to throw more blades. And as far as I could tell--- I was dying today.

But the swell of rage in my chest and controlling my limbs was stronger than any fear or nostalgic memory that entered my thoughts. I was impulsive. I was moving to throw a blade into the chest of the girl behind my attackers even before they had finished their seemingly endless speeches about losing themselves.

What did they know?

Had they killed their baby sister? Had they had to leave every person they ever knew and loved behind because they were drenched in spilt blood that wasn’t their own? Did they have an engagement ring in their pockets, one that was supposed to be wrapped around a finger by now? I’ve lost myself too many times to count. And throwing this blade was barely worthy to even make the list.

[Simon attacks Rhyme with Shuriken #2]
DJjNzjdithrowing knife
[Miss -- 0.0 damage]

throwing knife

[Stare]

34:57:45OO

'cause it's the time to fight
and not the time to fall
you will soon ignite
no running anymore

Don’t apologize. Don’t you dare.

Because in reality, are any of us really sorry here? We bury the blade in another person’s chest while the blame takes root in our own, every slice and slash something we claim to regret. But how can we possibly say that when we do it again? We aren’t sorry. We’re just a bunch of scared little kids with knives who want more than anything to live and be something more than a sacrifice made for the mistakes of ancient soldiers. Apologies mean nothing here because they’re never sincere, no matter how much we think they are.

He’s trying to save my soul, but the innocents are the dead ones here. I’d rather be a sinner and a Victor than pure and dead. It’s a downward spiral into something dark and twisted, but I’m not resisting. Why would I? I’ve seen the Victors on their tours, the way their eyes flash or burn or simply echo nothingness. I’ve been condemned since the moment they called my name to either death or a tortured life.

My every movement feels oddly familiar, muscles moving as if they’ve done something like this before. Perhaps they recognize similar movements from the clock tower - thrusting forward, skittering back, twisting around, ducking to avoid a gear. It’s like a dance, almost. But there’s another part of me that feels almost as if it’s something more. As if a second part of me senses the ghosts of hundreds of others rising again to watch and remember how they, too, sacrificed everything to prove their loyalty. I can almost hear their screams echoing among those that already exist, and I feel the rebirth of their panic and fear and anger and guilt inside my own chest. It’s like a haunting. That’s the point, I suppose. To remember those who have fallen.

But personally, I don’t want to be remembered as a corpse.

It’s always painted to be so complicated, but really the Games are quite simple. It’s like clockwork. There’s a necessary series of reactions in order to reach the final ideal performance. Twenty three deaths must occur in order for one Victor to be crowned. I flash back to what I told the Gamemakers, and it makes things seem easier somehow. The other tributes are just machines that have to be dismantled, and I know how to do that well enough.

You’re right, Kirito. I don’t give a damn. Because killing is exactly what we came here to do. I don’t want to be forgiven. I want to live. Perhaps that makes me despicable, perhaps it just makes me human. I still grimace at the sight of blood and feel fight lick up in my chest at the sight of blood on Simon’s face and Stella’s hip. It still hurts to know that I’m causing pain, to know that I’m slashing down another life. But it doesn’t hurt enough to make me stop. And that is what it means to be a tribute. We don’t debate morality. We know exactly where we stand, even if some would prefer to pretend otherwise. If we’re still alive an hour into the Games, then we can name ourselves monsters.

There are no heroes here. No selfless acts, no incredible saviors. And that is how I am able to stare at Kirito with eyes that do nothing but burn. “We don’t choose to kill here. I know that, and it’s time that you wake up and realize it, too. Death isn’t a choice, Kirito.” I pause, my red-stained fingers twitching. “But who we kill? That is a choice. And you chose her.”

I pause, take in the chaos. There’s blood. So much blood. But that’s something that’s unavoidable, too. My eyes meet his again.

“Sorry doesn’t bring her back.”

I’ll don’t apologize. I aim to kill.

there's nothing left to lose
and everything to find
do it now before
you're out of time

[Kiena attacks Rhyme with Shuriken (2)]
|hWtXLBmthrowing knife
[knife deep in neck, 9.5]

throwing knife

[Avalon]

stella summit

district seven

let the skyfall
when it crumbles

---

The simplistic remarks that spew and sputter from Kirito's lips bite harder than the pathetic girls knife that grazes my hip. It's the blood that drips down in scarlet drops like beads that draws my attention from the words. The very words slip off his tongue so easily it was as though he contradicted all that he was saying, because despite being sorry, no one truly was.


Everything shifts so quickly and with a one- two- three-

“We don’t choose to kill here. I know that, and it’s time that you wake up and realize it, too. Death isn’t a choice, Kirito.”

“But who we kill? That is a choice. And you chose her.”

For but a second, you can hear and feel the fire in her voice that slashes harder than any sword could. The fire ignited within days behind our time, but it wasn't until now that it shown itself through voice, rather than sight. Traversing through her eyes all the way down, she spits fire like a dragon. A dragon that has invaded the walls of the castle that once protected them- the triplets.

“Sorry doesn’t bring her back.”

And it's those words that flash me way back when-
Standing along delicate tip toes, peering through the window, looking out to a world that never was. The night sky casted down upon my petite face, the moonlight kissing me like my mother never once got the chance to. It wasn't until I twisted the lock and opened the window slightly that the autumn wind brushed through my hair, twisting and tangling the brown locks. Leaning toward, my weight shifts open the creak in the floorboard, sending a howling sound that one would get. And I froze. Latching the viewing window back up I stumbled across the ground and into my bed, only to meet the hand of an enraged beast that didn't approve of my curiosity, a beast that by no matter what would be called by the undeserving name of-

["Daddy-"]

["Shut your fucking mouth or I'm gonna give you something to cry about!"]

And if control was what he demanded, then it is what I fed him. It was a simple fact that I was weak, holding no power in my hands, but a flame that had ignited in my heart the day it was born. And throughout the years of twisted trauma and torture, the flame didn't make itself true until it was powerful enough to devour everything in sight. For now it is more than willing to conquer-

"Sorry doesn't mean shit. Just a simple word with a meaning full of nothing, that one says to earn a pretty penny in their favor."

I saw nothing else, for fighting with words is useless, and one must display it with a dance. A dance of warfare, full of swift motions and actions that could determine life or death. But it was a dance nonetheless, one that I would master in due time.

[stella attacks imp with spear]

XMBIlc7fspear

[result]
3097 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage

---

we will stand tall
face it all together
at skyfall

table by anzie

spear

[*]

Filler because is out... Very sorry!


(Olivia Attacks Simon)

qjofO|gqspear

{Results} Spear

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

My body moves to the drum

but my mind is always still

One step. Two step. Three step. Whore. They're drooling for my blood like those stupid hounds, and I'm determined to give them an identical outcome as well. The train scurries down the rails, overlooking the entire Arena with it's massive distances from the ground below. Fleeing is non existent, meaning breaths will be stollen before this violence will diminish. Will it be mine? Well it'll certainly be one of their's as well if I'm forced to go down. A blade flies past me without a scratch across my skin, providing confidence I probably shouldn't have.

My eyes carve into my victim as much as weapons are burrowing into flesh. "Eenie, meenie, miney, mo." I decide to stay upon the pray I initially marked. "You ain't nothing but a hoe. You think you're cool, You think you're classy. Reality Check: You're really trashy." And I might as well put on an interesting show for the Panem, just incase this is indeed my finale. Prior to being able to retaliate with an attack, a knife bores into my neck. Guess they weren't appreciating the nursery rhyme. Truthfully it's not a talent that coincides with my name. Oh well.

Instantly my right palm blankets the hole and spewing blood. "Truly classy Trashy." It hurts to even talk. Luckily not much agony comes from swinging my own weapon though. They're going to be the one to regret my death, not me. My iced corps will even spasm out and plant my knife into one of them a final time if need be. Just wait and see. Or should I say, not see.

TAG: @user | WORDS: ### | NOTES: HERE

                                MEL @ ADOXOGRAPHY

{Rhyme Morales Attacks Stella with Knife}

HV|kScWRknife

(2135 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
(Knife))knife

[grim.]

And that I'll fight my corner, Maybe tonight I'll call ya, After my blood turns into alcohol, No, I just wanna hold ya. --- I saw her blood stream from her back, I had just stitched that up. I had just spent fucking hours repairing what those hounds had broken, I would not stand for someone to rip it apart again. They had no right to shred through her skin so carelessly, as if she was just an object. I wanted them dead, ever last one of them. I swiftly had blocked the first two strikes from that district seven girl. I remember the taste of her toxic lips on that rooftop. The way her groping hands made me feel, I couldn't lie, she was a good time, but there was no longer room for her here. She thrusts her spear in my direction once more, missing me only by the slightest. I was becoming tired of this little dance, it was time to make some noise. I stare the district seven girl in the face, I slowly undo the buttons of my vest and rip the shirt open, exposing my bare chest. “I’m STEALING my freedom back!” I scream, I point at my bare chest. “You STOLE my heart.” I yell at Stella. It was of course a mockery, I barely knew this girl, but why not put on a show? Her lips tasted of brandy the last I knew, but it didn't matter anymore, cause soon she would only taste blood. "I'm sorry darlin, you where a hot piece if ass, but I have no use for you anymore." I smirk, her face seems so youthful, that's what I liked about her. I look to the hot blonde that is now soaked in her own blood, and I cant help but feel my face harden. I had to do something, I had to make sure that she would be okay. I couldn't be a fuck up like I have been my whole life, she deserved better. I load my bow with another hopeful arrow, and I pull back the string, praying for an outcome I can be proud of. I wasn't a killer, but I was a friend. Rhyme I swear to god if you don't pull it together and get your ass out of here alive, I might just have to kill you myself. A smile pulls a crossed my face, its time to make a change in the pace of this little spat. --- Give a little time to me or burn this out, We'll play hide and seek to turn this around, All I want is the taste that your lips allow

OOC Notes
{Imp attacks Stella, with Bow}
L1o11s3Sbow
result
4190 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage

(Bow)

made by anzie

bow

[Arrows]

- Kirito Miristioma -

"Even when you think you have lost yourself, remember why you are here.."

God could Rhyme choose a better time to spew out her typical ridiculous rhymes. Kirito couldn't believe that girl was on her death bed and still dancing with words in her mouth such as those. However that always was the way Rhyme was. It was one of the many things Kirito loved about her. One of the many reasons he could always find a place with her. A place to survive. Now Key was trying to prove herself. Well it was a little fucking late wasn't it? No, still he wouldn't just let them butcher Rhyme.

Key's words rang through Kirito's body like a gun shot. She was right. A healer was not the type of person to survive the games. It was time for him to let go, to finally give in to the demon that he had been fighting. He had to let the chains go. As if on queue the beast's voice composed a horrid laugh that danced to the ears of the other tributes. "Fine Key! I won' be the little healer! Ya want kill I will kill!" 

Then he fell... 

Darkness swarmed over Kirito's body as its new host finally gripped its new reigns. Kirito was dead and gone. Now Kiri lived, half man half beast. All with one soul purpose... survival. A grin broke across Kiri's stolen face as his eyes watched the blonde hair brute closely. Blood... blood.... blood.... alll I want is blood. However it was rude of someone, even a demon, to ignore a question. So devilishly grinning he turned towards Key and laughed. "Yes! I did choose to kill her! I KILLED HER! I DID IT I ADMIT IT! ARE YA HAPPY NOW!" 

Then as the shurikens flew Kiri moved into position. Never once did the hunter lose track of his prey. Key was right on the fact the people choose who they want to kill and now Kiri had chosen him. The girl from seven was only the beginning. If only Key knew what she had unleashed. However Kiri had to admit he adored not having the weak ass Kirito dragging him down. Now all he wanted he could have and what he wanted was Simon. So when his opening finally presented itself Kiri launched with his dagger glinting. The storm had truly bloomed. 

Kirito Attacks Simon with his Switchblade
Im9NwRJWknife
{Two Severed Fingers on Right Hand -- 9.0 damage}

knife