[.}food, food, everywhere...{.][SE][Day 3]

[WT]

((OOC- Uhg. Why are all my Aranica posts the past few days made of so much fail?))

... but not a bite to eat.

"Come on, please burn..."

"Working on it, little rock." The wood sounded frustrated, but not at her- more like it was trying to burn and having trouble.

"Don't mind them. They aren't mad at you," the rock said in confirmation of her thoughts. "Making fire really is quite difficult."

In her life, Aranica had always found that two things helped ease agitation: talking to friends and routine tasks. She utilized both strategies now. Fire-making was something that was easy, but that commanded her attention, and what little thought was left over she poured into talking to her acorn-shaped rock and the firewood. Between the two, she couldn't really think about the crisis her alliance was facing.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's not easy on this end, either." Aranica twisted the two sticks she was using harder, and wondered if maybe she should use the matches. But no- she knew how to do this, and she'd rather save the matches. "Thank you for letting me take you from your trees, by the way," she added sympathetically. "I know it probably hurt." She didn't much like being away from her home, herself- and she didn't even have to be physically removed from anyone to be here. She tried to imagine how painful it would be to be conjoined to another person and then separated, and couldn't.

The tinder flared abruptly, with cries of excitement (and one "Eeee, that tickles!") from the wood. Aranica sat back, breath held and fingers crossed. The flames sputtered, fell, and then caught the kindling, which crackled and then burst upward to the larger logs. Ara punched the air. "Thank you, wood!" She would hug it, but she didn't really want to catch fire; firewood enjoyed it, but she doubted she (or her clothes) would be nearly so happy about it.

"Got it, everyone!" Their water bottles were tied alone a length of rope from the Cornucopia; she tied it up as planned, and the bottles clinked against each other over the fire. "One fire bundle down, lots of water up. Now we just wait."

Unfortunately, this now meant Ara wasn't having her thought taken up by fire-making. Her mind, as it had been doing for the past several hours, reviewed the problems they were facing without her permission. She and Dru were still injured from yesterday, particularly her; making the fire had hurt her sore arms, in fact, and she rubbed them with a grimace. They were surrounded by food, but none of them knew how to trap it- and it was all meat, anyway, because she had looked but she couldn't find any edible plants. As far as she knew, they had no clue where to go now (it was useless going back to the last island, the one on the other side of it hadn't looked real inviting, and the next one was gone), and no idea when they'd have food.

She sighed and shook her head. Pessimism wasn't like her, and she wasn't going to let the Games change that. Her alliance had water now, and they had each other. They were all smart; they'd figure something out. Maybe they could get over the island that used to be on the other side of the island that was now gone. On top of that, even though there had been five more deaths (poor tributes!), Nachele hadn't been on the list last night; her friend was still out there.

Her own alliance came first right now, though. Aranica dragged her mind back to the present- to them. She had kind of gotten lost in her own world while fire-making, and wasn't entirely sure what was going on. She looked from person to person, trying to judge what was happening. It was hard, though- she hadn't really had much chance to practice atmosphere-reading in her life.

Maybe she should just pay attention to what was being said. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.

[cinder]

Dru was subdued, even in the confines of her own head. Usually when somebody was mumbling things to rocks and wood, she would subconsciously make fun of them, even if the mumbler happened to be Aranica Petros, Dru's honorary little sister until one or both of them died. She was still shaken after her awful poison-melt down from the day before, disturbed by her own behavior. What had her sponsors seen yesterday? A frightened, panicked girl who had handled the Pitfall Poison in a worse manner than the twelve year old, District Twelve Tribute. Hell, all Dru needed to do to solidify her identity as the new Exorcist girl was spin her head around a few times.

So she sat huddled in a little Dru-ball next to Aranica, watching as the girl coaxed a fire out of the wood. She did not bother to offer up her services, it was far too much fun watching her companion mutter and cheer on the embers and wood. Why tell Aranica that Dru was pretty much an expert on starting fires? Obviously, she should have though. Hadn't the Capitol freaked out the last time a Pyromaniac was in the Games and killed twelve Tributes using fire? Dru was pretty sure she had seen an ancient video of the bug-eyed, twitching maniac who was now about forty.

"Good job," Dru Charlesburg murmured as Aranica finally succeeded. She smiled a rare smile in the girls direction as Ara puffed up with pride in her own work. It made Dru happy to know that even after her emanate death, hopefully Aranica would live through this nightmare and grow old, surrounded by things that loved her. Maybe Ara was crazy enough to bring Dru back to life after she died, in the form of a tiny voice that spoke from within some inanimate object. That would be nice, to live on in something unliving, also undying which was great for that object.

"Does anybody know how to hunt?" she then asked curiously, as her stomach rumbled and Dru remembered that yes, she did need to drink and eat in order to stay alive in the harsh Arena she now called home. Dru looked hopefully toward Shanks, who could fish (hunting was like the same thing, right?) then at Ara who came from a District of scoundrels who obviously hunted illegally. She didn't even spare a glance toward Jango or Argent, pegging them as more her type of people. The type who hadn't had to hunt even once in their lives. She ran a hand through her hair, an old, nervous habit, and instantly her hand got caught in the mess of brown. Her bun had fallen out, leaving long hair tumbling around her face. If not for the dirt, sweat, blood, and tears all over Dru, she would have looked just as she always had. Beautiful, wild and somehow exotic. With those four factors working against the girl, as well as her knotted, obnoxious hair, she felt glum and ugly. Maybe Day One Dru could have batted her eye-lashes and gotten sponsors instantly, but she was a washed-up train wreck now, nowhere near as glamorous as Drusilla Bellatrix Charlesburg of District One. Now she was just Dru, dead Tribute walking.

[Quint]

I'm ready to meet my maker...as to whether my maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter...

Shanks remembered the long time ago when he had almost drowned in the river back in District 4. He recalled when he been saved by the new unit’s captain. His parents had requested that he transition away from the night shift, due to the number of deaths that occur in the night. Once you’re in the water in the pitch black, there’s no way out unless you are the best of swimmers. He wasn’t the best of fishers back home, but he had been fairly skilled for someone his age. He remembered when he would give out a few fish to some of the neighbors on the way home. He had plenty to give back; and they respected him for that. Every last one of them.

He grinned coolly as Dru looked at him in question of hunting. “I can hunt. Wanna come with? I’ll need someone to keep watch and all.” Oh yeah, he still took note of the whole reason he had agreed into joining Dru. She had flirted and seduced him into an alliance. He wasn’t so sure when he’d be able to fondle girls again; so when he was in the Arena, he intended to make the most out of his alliance with Dru. After all, if she charmed him that good, she was expecting something, yeah?

Silence seared through the air for a moment and the only sound that emitted from anywhere was the low hum. He looked at the others, obviously hoping one of them knew what was going on. ”Electric fence? We’ve got one in District 4. I’m pretty sure all the Districts have ‘em.” Even with his reassurance, he was scared at this point. It seemed that everything around him was a threat. The Game Makers could’ve twisted the most harmless thing into a deadly weapon. He snatched up his trident and headed towards the one pit of ocean not too far away. ”You guys can get the fire warm and cookin’. I’ll go with Dru to get some fish. Maybe get some water too. I’m starving and my throat is sooo dry.”

It was true too. How much more until they would die of dehydration/starvation? Not much more, by the looks of it. Each one of them was in horrible condition, not even including Dru and Aranica, who were poisoned and almost died if the mentors had paid the cash to buy the antidote. Though, it was only a matter of time when the sponsors would stop pooling in bundles of money. But for now, anything would do.

Anything would do...

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[Micra]

Le Flashback

Well. I've gotten one step closer. I've survived two days in the hellhole arena. Almost. The second day isn't over yet. I decide to mark Days by the anthem rather than when the sun rises. It's easier, I guess, since I could be awake or asleep at any given moment. I lie down for a moment and allow my eyes to close. I may not have been hurt today, but that's not to say the battle wasn't exhausting. I am nursing a couple bruises from when Dru tried to attack me, but really, it could be so much worse.

As soon as my eyes close, the anthem blares throughout the arena, forcing them open. I'm already facing the sky, so I watch as the faces appear.

Sul is first. Sul? Not possible. Not probable. But here he is, his face shimmering in the night sky. And I wonder. If Sul, the strongest of them all is here in the sky, is Nachele dead too? No. She can take care of herself. But... so could Sul.

Autumn is next. Strangely, I don't really care that I've lost my District partner. It's not like I'd ever spoken to her anyway. No, I'm more worried about Nachele. And Cherry too, of course, but I can't see her getting in a fight the way the other three would.

Then there's that kid from the training Center. The one I fought. He was from District Three, and I'm surprisingly happy to see that he's dead. He looked like a hell of a threat.

The next dead tribute is a few districts down the line. The boy from nine. I don't care much about him, having never seen him since the Games began, as far as I can remember.

And last, and I know he must be last because nothing comes after District 12, is Kale. I'm filled with several sensations at once. Joy, because Nachele and Cherry are alive and my two main enemies have died. Fear, because there is another powerful tribute or alliance in this arena. Unless mutts got them. And sorrow, for the loss of two people who may have been my friends. The sky goes dark, and I realize that not a single person in this alliance still has a District Partner. Hmm. I wonder if any of the others were at all attached to theirs.

I lie back and close my eyes again. I have one thought first in my mind. If I hadn't left, would my face be in the sky too? Or would none of us be? And somehow, it's all my fault. All...my...fault. The world goes dark, and I sleep.

End Le Flashback
We waste no time in the morning, apparently. By the time I wake up, all water jugs, including mine, have been filled with water and are hanging over a fire Ara just produced. No doubt for purification. I feel guilty for sleeping so late, but I guess I wasn't needed, or they would've gotten me up.

My groggy mind hears Shanks mention hunting. Hunting means food, right? My stomach feels hollow. I haven't eaten since stuffing my face right before the bloodbath. Food would be good. And we have a fire. So we can cook food. I sit up and stretch. Then I walk over to Aranica.

"How're you doing Ara? Better than yesterday, I hope?" She and Dru both seem to have recovered well enough, but there's no harm in making sure. I sure am glad we have sponsors.

[cinder]

"Y'know what I did in.

Puppies were cute, in Dru's opinion. Yes, yes, yes cue the shocked gasps of the masses who all believed Miss Charlesburg to be a heartless machine. It was just true though. Puppies were soft, they followed you around, and no matter what they were always up for a game. Dru liked playing people, so when Shanks flirtatiously assaulted her with his eyes and words, she found herself excited, and not disturbed as many girls would have been. A willing puppy, right here in the perfect Arena to play Games in. Dru stood up without a word, casting a sideways glance in Ara's direction as the panic of a mother leaving her newborn child for the first time seized her cold heart.

She blinked. Aranica could handle herself, food and water, they needed some of that stuff. None of them could go much longer without some fuel. "So," she started, "You've hunted before? Or oops, I guess hunting fish is called fishing," she finished up her statement with an embarrassed look at her falchion, which she had felt obliged to bring along when Shanks had such a bad-arsed weapon on hand at all times. Dru was playing the coy-girl part, innocently acting as though she had never even heard of hunting or fishing in her whole life. Guys liked to explain things to girls, why not let Shanks do his little This-Is-How-You-Fish shpiel. It might come in handy later in the Games, if she knew the basics.

Dru shuffled along with Shanks who she had started to subconsciously think of as Sharks. That Jango, always calling the District Four Career by the wrong name had gotten it stuck in her head like a bad song you have to play on repeat for days to get out of your head (No, it does not make sense but he-llo! These are Dru Charlesburg's thoughts. Seldom do they make sense to your average bear.) Shanks said something to Dru, who in turn blurted out one of the most random statements uttered since the Games had begun. "Um, like how old are you again?" she asked curiously. The Capitol loved a vixen, but a cougar? Nobody was into teen girls going out with tween boys. The amount of years difference between them did not count as much as their current ages. Fifteen, to Dru, was nearly an adult whereas if Shanks were thirteen, even fourteen, he was on the cusp of almost-adulthood, still considered a 'kid' to the viewers. If she came out of this alive, Dru didn't want to be known for her strange taste in men boys.

[Quint]

I'm ready to meet my maker...as to whether my maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter...

“Haha, yeah. I suppose it is.” He stole a quick glance at the falchion she brought along. She was the only other Career besides him within the alliance. She was easily capable of handling a weapon, whereas some of the other tributes had no prior training like they did and had no other choice but to attack clumsily rather than none. His fingers clenched around the trident harder and his knuckles cracked. ”Uh, 13,” he answered, after she asked him for his age.

By the time they had made it to the ocean pit, he had found some fishes/aquatic creatures in there. Before he left, he had been sure to carry a rope. He quickly tied it around the lower end (just enough to get some distance going but manage from such a range) of the trident. He spun the trident once, winked at Dru, and threw the weapon into the water. It launched with remarkable speed. Even for a young District 4 Career.

This process repeated itself several times. By the time about 20 minutes had passed, he had caught nothing. He looked back at the obviously bored Dru. ”The Game Makers,” he explained. ”They’ve rigged these fish somehow. They’re waaay faster that they are back home. Shoulda took that Trapping Station, huh?” He dried off the trident with his shirt and signaled to Dru that they had to return to camp.

No food here. We should get moving. Everything here. It’s all too small. I doubt we’ll catch enough to feed all of us. So, we’re going to have to some larger, slower game on some of the other islands.” No thoughts, but one went through his head at the moment. The only thought of survival beamed through his head over and over. He had to win for his District. And if Shanks Kensington knew anything. It was that he wasn’t going to go down with starvation.

Survival.

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[WT]

Dru seemed a little put out, and Aranica almost cringed, wondering if she'd upset her 'sister' again. Some of Dru's insane rambling from yesterday still rang in her head, and even though she knew it had been spurred by the poison, she couldn't help but think that it had been rooted in truth. After all, Ara hadn't done much of anything useful lately. She'd done some heavy damage in the Bloodbath, but she'd gotten poisoned before she could do anything yesterday, and it wasn't like she was the only one who could start fires. She could do some medical things, but Argent was better at it, and she could recognize edible plants, but they hadn't found any. As for shelter-making, they had tents, for rocks' sakes. If any of her allies was mad at her, she couldn't fault them for it.

But one of Dru's infrequent smiles appeared (it was even accompanied by non-grudging praise!), and Ara relaxed, smiling back. Huh. So Dru didn't hate her after all. That was nice to know.

She started to ask a question, but Dru got to speaking first, so she kept quiet to listen. The thought of hunting made her heart ache, and opened up a whole new internal can of worms. She had always been a vegetarian, because while the plants she asked never minded being eaten, the animals always seemed really upset about it. They were more like humans than plants, which were often totally incomprehensible to Ara. (She was, after all, used to thinking like a human-rock.) She didn't want to kill an animal, but- if it was life and death and she really had to, would she? She didn't think so- she didn't want to think so- but... if she was prepared to attack in self-defence, like she had at the Bloodbath and at the lizard yesterday, then what would she do to avoid starvation? (It didn't matter that no death blows had been hers; Alba's death was largely her fault for bringing Shanks down on her friend and the lizard wouldn't have died without her darts.) It was a scary idea.

It seemed that during the course of her musings, Dru and Shanks had decided to go hunt. Aranica nodded, still iffy on the idea but unwilling to get in the way. After all, those two knew more than her; they didn't need her input. "Be careful, please," she said quietly. "There should be water ready when you come back..." A lot of water, in fact. How had they managed twenty-five jugs?

Argent came over, and she smiled down at him. (It was so weird to have someone be shorter than her. She was used to being much smaller than everyone else around her.) "Yeah, thanks to my sponsors and you."] She wouldn't have had the antivenom without her sponsors, of course, but a lot of credit for her survival went to Argent. He had killed the lizard that had tried to go after her (admittedly, she'd injured it as well), and he had known how to use the Capitol medicine. "I'm getting hungry," she admitted with a shrug, "but I'm used to that."

She was a little worried about home, too, but she didn't mention that, because it felt a little awkward. She had no family and no real friends back in District Twelve, no one who would be heartbroken if she died- but she did have her employer to think about. Aranica had been the only person to stick with the shop from the time it opened; everyone got fed up with its owner after a short period and left for another job if they could find one. It wasn't Ms. Charise's fault that she both paid and priced erratically, though. She was elderly and had trouble with money sometimes. Hopefully she had found someone else who was happy working for her. If not, though, the usual stream of temporary employees would be fine.

There was a very light bubbling sound, almost like the singing of running water. Aranica looked up and glanced toward the fire and the jugs hung above it. One of them seemed to be almost shimmer; she moved closer and peered very closely. Was it starting to simmer? She had thought so, but it was gone now. She hoped so.

The fire crackled something at the water that she didn't quite catch, and one of the jugs retaliated with something to the effect of "Well, this isn't all fluffy and pretty, either!" The fire let loose a burst of angry sparks (and words), a few of which hit some of the jugs, and a full-scale shouting match exploded between the three parties- plastic, liquid, and wood.

Aranica shook her head and waved her hands. "Stop it, guys!" She glanced behind her, wondering if she could expect any help from her alliance- those who were still here, anyway. Probably not- like most people, they didn't seem to understand non-humans like she did. "We all need to work together, okay?" They didn't listen, and she bit her lip nervously. She didn't like fighting, didn't like it at all...

"You all, you're hurting our friend."

The firewood spit some kind of nasty curse- something Aranica thought she'd heard Dru say yesterday- and then fell silent. The water, which had been the quietest, didn't say anything, and the jugs rattled a brief apology before settling down as well. Aranica sighed in relief and put a hand to the rock around her neck, as she had taken to doing more and more often lately. "Thanks, rock," she whispered.

"Anytime."

The whole process had only taken about a minute from the time she'd stopped talking, so she didn't bother to say much as she returned to Argent. Just, "Sorry about that. Fire gets testy sometimes."

She had been standing for a while- ever since she'd gotten the fire going- so she settled down on the ground. One never knew when they'd need full strength in the Arena, so rest was good. "How are you doing?" she asked. He seemed to be in pretty good shape, which made sense since he hadn't been attacked yesterday, but there was no harm in asking. Even if he seemed okay, she was still concerned.

[Tori]

Jango Graves must have been a heavy sleeper. How else could he have slept away half the morning and woken up to part of his alliance absent? The day before, after they had administered the anti-venom to Dru, the alliance had made a decision. If the creatures around here were poisoned, they would need to get off the island. And that's what they did. They only moved down one island, but that was good enough. It was away from the lizards, and it seemed vacant enough. Maybe they would actually get a break the next day. After putting all his things down at the place in which they made camp, he laid his head down for a moment.

That was all it had taken. Maybe the nights of not sleeping in the capitol hadn't been such a good idea. Someone could have killed him in his sleep. Thank goodness for his alliance. Jango opened his eyes, realizing that he had slept through the anthem. For the second time in a row. Did this put him at a serious disadvantage? Everyone else knowing how many tributes were left in the games? Surely it did. How many were there? 19? 10? Just them? He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He felt the urge to take a shower and clean himself off, but then he remembered where he was.

Jango had never appreciated the cold showers his house provided him with, but now he did. He would kill something for the chance at a shower. Okay, so maybe not kill, but... It took a moment, but he realized that Shanks and Dru were no longer with his alliance. This worried him a bit. There weren't disputes while he was gone, were there? No, maybe they had just gone to do something. He stood up and looked stumbled over to where Aranica and Argent sit.

He took a seat next to them, and the fire they were working on. Yawns were still escaping fro his mouth, but he was more awake now. Looking around, he saw that the water jugs had been filled and set somewhat on the fire. "Is that necessary?" He asked. Did they need to boil it? "Don't we have those purification tablets? Are we saving them for something?" It seemed he wasn't... fully awake. His brain still slow on some of the uptakes.

"Hey, where'd Sharks and Dru run off to?" Jango's stomach growled and he clutched it, biting his lip. "Who die-" He stopped a moment and glanced at Ara before he finished his question and desperately searched for the right words to use instead. "Um, Argent, how many of us are left?" At least it didn't sound as harsh as the previous try, but it got the message across. Of course Ara would still know what he was talking about, she was in the Games too after all, but it wasn't put as harshly.

For a moment, Jango played with the bracelet attached to his right wrist. The one his sister had made for him. Claire. The bracelet he had had for 3 years. And slowly, his fingers found the ring the bracelet had been recent looped through. Veronica's ring. A small gasp escaped his lips, and he hoped no one heard it. Veronica. How was she doing? It couldn't be good. He wondered what Clarisse and Serenity were doing to help. They had to help. But who knew if there was any helping her now. For a moment, Jango remembered why he was here. For Veronica, he couldn't let her die.

Determination was shooting through him. He would have to survive. "Is there anything that needs to be done, that I can do?" Suddenly wanting help, Jango addressed them both. He glanced into both of their eyes. If only there was a way they could all survive. If only this things didn't happen. If only this was a dream. But he was concentrating on the things that weren't. And he needed to concentrate on the things that were. They were here and here they would be stuck. Jango turned away from them, his hands in fists as he waited for their replies.

[Micra]

Ara confirmed she's okay. She still seems to think it's because of me that she's alive. It makes me uncomfortable. I didn't save her. Because if I saved her, that means I've become attached to her. And I do not have attachments here. I can't, if I want to live. I've heard the Arena changes people before, and I wonder if I've been changed too. I think about the bloodbath. Without a second thought, in the heat of battle, I had bashed in a man's head, severed the ear of a girl my age, and back-stabbed someone who regarded me as a friend. It was the Games after all. That's how I was supposed to act. I'm a Career. All those actions quite probably saved my life. Especially after seeing the faces of Sul and Kale last night. I know I made the right choice.

But why do I feel so uncomfortable with it? The old me, faced with two cures after the lizard attack, would have shoved Ara's antidote in my bag for later, kept the stronger of the two alive. No one would ever know there had been two. They would just think Aranica had no sponsors. But I didn't do that. I cured her. I could be guaranteed a cure if ever poisoned, but instead, I saved an opponent. Isn't that all the others are? Tools for now, and obstacles later? That's all they should be, but they're not.

Aranica is talking again. To the fire though, not me. I wonder how she hears those inanimate objects. I wonder if it's kind of like the voice in my head. Two parts of a whole. I wonder if Aranica projects her own thoughts onto the nature, so she has someone to talk to. Or maybe, it's not that she can't talk to people, but that she listens better than all of us.

Either way, I wish I had friends that loyal. Seeing the alliance, I wonder if maybe I do. But thinking about that just makes me feel worse. I don't get it. I've wanted this since I could comprehend it. But I guess I couldn't really comprehend it, because this is nothing like I expected. And all I want to do is leave.

"Sorry about that. Fire gets testy sometimes." I nod.

"Makes sense," I say. That's when Aranica does something that catches me completely off guard. She asks if I'm okay. I search my mind for the last time somebody asked after my health. Nothing. Maybe a faint scrap of memory, years ago. My mother, and some kind of injury. But It's too long ago, so I give up.

"I'm fine, Ara. Hungry too, of course, but it could be worse. My knee doesn't even really hurt anymore." I want to just lie back and have one 'lazy day' before my imminent demise. But as soon as I lie back under the shade tarp we set up, Jango comes up and starts asking questions. I'm tempted to tell him to bug off and laugh at my own pun. But instead, I raise my head off the ground to look at him.

"Don't we have those purification tablets? Are we saving them for something?" I'm kinda irritated by this, but I answer anyway.

"Yes. When we run out of water and have no firewood, those tablets will look even more appealing than they do now. Besides, the fire can purify more at a time than the tablets." And I'd hear they were geniuses, over in six.

He must have slept through the anthem, because his next question is "Um, Argent, how many of us are left?" Hmm. I think about it.

Shanks
Autumn
District Three Male... Garrett?
District Four Female
District Six Female
Hilderic
District Nine Male
...District Eleven, of course.
And Kale

I think that's nine. Usually, that many are killed in the bloodbath on the first day. There was some action and carnage yesterday though, so with luck, we'll get a break. Suddenly a cannon blast tears through the arena. Maybe we're not all getting a break.

Nachele? And for a moment, my breath escapes me. But there's no way it's her. As long as she has a weapon, she can survive. It was probably one of the weaker ones, the the girl with the training score of one, for example. Maybe Semper, another potential enemy. But that's too much to hope for.

"I guess there's fourteen left now. Nine besides us." Wow. That kind of puts it in perspective. More than half the tributes not in this alliance are already dead. Wow. Jango fiddles with his bracelet for a moment. I wonder what he's thinking.

"Is there anything that needs to be done, that I can do?" he asks.

"Don't think so. I think we should spend the day drinking water and resting, while we can." I don't know what else to say, so I blurt out, "Sul and Kale are gone." Just saying it out loud makes my stomach drop. I wonder if Jango even cares.

[Tori]

Only 14 of us left? Almost half of the original 24 children gone in two days. It's a frightening thought to Jango. Five of those 14 people were in his alliance. While it may seem like a good thing, it also means that time is running out. Soon, his alliance will have to split up. Soon, they will have to fight each other. Jango sook the thought from his head, and ran his fingers through his messy hair. Argent says everyone should just spend the day resting and there's nothing to do. In response, Jango unclenthed his other hands, and started rolling rocks into the fire. He stopped after a moment remembering that Aranica talked to rocks.

Something slips from Argent's mouth. Words. Sul and Kale are gone. Jango's mind desperately tries to reclaim the faes of the two tributes he's mentioning. But, they don't come. He had never learned everyone's name before they entered the arena. "Oh." That was only thing Jango let escape his mouth. How was he supposed to respond if he didn't know who these people had been? He tried again. "I'm sorry about that. Friends of yours?" Friendship being made in the alliance were not unheard of, and actually rather common, though they always ended harshly.

Jango got up from his seat, and moved over closer to Argent. The boy was the closest to Jango's own age in the alliance. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "These things will happen. You want to win, don't you? Just take some time think, okay? Mourne your friends. And then, forget them. There's no helping them now. The only thing to do now, is win for them." He couldn't believe these words were coming from his mouth. No, Argent couldn't win. That would make Jango a loser.

Nonetheless, Jango didn't regret saying it. People delt with death differently. And every member of his alliance needed to be at their best if they wanted to survive. So if the words helped, Jango wouldn't regret it all. That good person was still inside of him, no matter how much he was trying to subdue him do to the Games.

[Micra]

Jango comes and sits closer to me, as if to comfort me. He asks if Sul and Kale were my friends. A pang of despair goes through me

"Yeah... for a time," I say. "I guess."

"These things will happen. You want to win, don't you? Just take some time think, okay? Mourn your friends. And then, forget them. There's no helping them now. The only thing to do now, is win for them," he says. That's done it. I'm not angry at Jango any more. I respect him for saying these things. But it's crushed me like the only crushed thing I can think of. I feel like his words have done to me what my mace did to District Eleven's head.

I stare down at the ground.

"They don't want me to win for them. They want me dead," I say. If crying hadn't been drilled out of me as a weakness since I can remember, I might be.

"I betrayed them, Jango. At the bloodbath, I attacked Sul. I missed, but the point was obvious. After I left them, I joined with you four, and I'm alive because of it. They were loyal and now they're dead." I can imagine Kale taking a knife for Cherry, and Sul fighting three or four of those lizards as the girls flee into the trees. If I had been there, no doubt whatever attacked would have killed me too.

"I know they want me dead. I don't blame them either. I probably should be." I mutter the last part. Should I be dead? Maybe. But I'm not, so I'm going to have to accept that. But another question Jango asked has my attention too. Do I even want to win? I thought I did. I guess I have it in me. After all, no decent person has won the games in my memory.

"Anyway, it can only go uphill from here," I say, trying to be cheery. Unless Nachele is the cannon. That would make it worse. But unlikely. Besides, we coud never be friends anyway. Not after what happened at the bloodbath. I gave up Nachele's friendship the moment I aimed my knife at Sul. It's time to move on, like Jango said. But I don't know if I can.

[cinder]

Dru kept her thoughts to herself on the way back to camp with Shanks. Come to think of it, he was much too predictable and kittenish. Dru, was not a fan of kittens. They were too annoying, brushing up against bare legs and clawing at fleshy skin. They clung with their claws, and bit with sharp fangs inherited from ancient Lion-like ancestors. So it was decided: Shanks was a useful member of her Alliance when it came to fights, but there were no fish for him to catch, and he was a little too familiar with that trident for her taste. Dru made a point of slashing at any branches or plants that gone in her way on the way back to camp. She noticed that neither person was willing to go in front of the other. That's what happens when you arm suspicious, blood-thirsty boys and girls. They go mad off of secrets and hidden opinions. Dru was not willing to let a District Four citizen with such a weapon anywhere near her backside, and Shanks was wise enough to figure out Dru was not the ditzy harpie she claimed to be.

The blade in her hands was proof enough that one day Dru was going to have to kill her other Alliance members, or at least let them die, if she hoped to get herself, or her most beloved Arena Companions home. Dru heard squabbling before she arrived at the camp, she paused mid-step. Perhaps the other Tributes were going to get violent and kill each other? That would leave Shanks and Dru with so many supplies. Then she remembered who the Tributes at camp were, or well, who one of them was. Aranica! She picked up her pace just as the feminine voice of a younger girl became audible.

"Hey! There's no fish willing to come around, we'll have to make do with what we have," if anything--that stopped Dru right in her tracks. Going hungry had not occurred to her when they were on an island that seemed heavily populated. She 'sposed nobody actually knew how to hunt land-creatures, and if they were anything like Shanks Fish, they might be too fast anyways. She hesitated, "We saw the sky too, seems like a few Tribs died. Cograts on living through the day, everybody. One step closer to the end," she said positively. Dru did not even think about the pain her fellow Allies might feel after learning a District mate or new friend was dead and gone. She did not think like that. Dru saw things in black and white. Good or bad. The death of other children, in this case, was good.

That's the harsh truth of the world, from Dru Charlesburg's point of you. She settled down next to her peers and grabbed at one of the water containers, her throat suddenly parched as a stray thought about the suffering of others ran through her head. She would just have to wash it down with warm water.

[WT]

"Does it? Really?" Aranica's tone was more curious than doubtful, despite her words, as she questioned Argent's response to her fire comment. "Huh. I'm not used to making sense. Cool!" A wide grin split her face as she contemplated that idea. Maybe she was getting better at interacting with people! Not only had she successfully made- was it up to eight?- people not run away from her, she was actually making sense to someone. This was awesome!

His assurance that he was okay made her spirits rise even further. The rest would do them all good- it already had, it seemed. "That's good," she said encouragingly. "I'm glad you're getting better. It looked really painful yesterday and at the B-Bloodbath." Her voice faltered a little at the memory of that first day, but she forged onward. "I guess-"

A noise distracted her, and she turned to see the last member of her alliance, Jango. He had arisen late, and was apparently a little sleepy. Aranica giggled at the look on his face, but she couldn't really blame him; she wasn't used to waking up so early, either. She figured that only pure exhaustion had kept her sleeping enough to make sure she was alert during the day. "Welcome back to the world, Jango," she said, beaming at him as he came to sit with her and Argent.

(She wondered idly what he dreamed about- what all of them dreamed about. She herself didn't often remember her dreams, which disappointed her but made her fascinated in the subject. She cast the thought aside, though, because it was pretty useless. She could return to it later when she was bored or something.)

His words made her flush a little with embarrassment, because she actually hadn't even considered the tablets. It still blew her mind that she and the others had managed to get so many items from the Cornucopia. It turned out that she had missed that piece of the discussions that morning, though (it had probably been when she dropped her rock and had to go find it), because Argent explained why using the fire was a good idea. The elucidation sounded well-thought-out, and her chagrin died a little.

The return of her good mood was short-lived, though, because Jango turned the conversation in another direction. Two other directions, actually, she noted as he glanced at her and rephrased the question. She turned away a little, eyes downcast. "You can say 'died,' you know," she told him softly. It didn't make her happy to think about her friends dying, but she had to. This was the Games, and when it came right down to it, she could face that, even though it was hard. She wanted them to know it, too. She was small and she was sweet and she was scared, but she was not unable to live in reality.

(Well, as far into reality as it gets when half your mind manifests itself as inanimate objects that talk to you. But as far as she was concerned that was reality, so please ignore that discrepancy.)

Fifteen. Fourteen, with the new cannon- the sound of which rattled her bones and made her jump halfway out of her skin despite being relatively quiet with distance. She settled down into a small heap of sitting tribute, glancing off in the direction of the sound. Who? Not Nachele, surely, but there were a few others she knew. They wouldn't know until tonight, though, so she did her best to put her mind off of it and return to the conversation.

It wasn't any less bleak on this front, though. For several long moments it was all Aranica could do to watch with wide eyes and wish she knew how to say comforting things. Him muttering something about how he should be dead was too much, though, and she scooted to the side so she could lean against his shoulder and wrap her arms around him, carefully watching out for his left knee and her own right arm in the process. "Argent," she whispered, but couldn't come up with anything else and so just stayed there, trying to pour out her sympathy through osmosis while Jango spoke.

Any ideas, rock?

Rocks don't die often. It sounded as bewildered as she did, which was both comforting and not in some strange way. I don't know. Let Jango talk.

She did so, and it seemed to help. By the time she let go of Argent to move a few of the water bottles (a few had started boiling, and the water's singing would get really loud and annoying soon if she didn't move it), he was cheering up. The situation was no better, but it always helped to be optimistic.

Even if ten tributes were dead, some of them friends and several of them District Partners to people in this alliance. Even if Aranica couldn't envision any more of her friends dying, but knew that they had to it even one of them was to survive. Even if they still had food pr-

For a moment, Ara thought the food issue had been fixed, because she heard Dru and Shanks coming through the trees. She took the water jug she was drinking from down and looked over, expression hopeful. The news was bad, though, and she sighed a bit as she went to drain the rest of the water in this jug so she could refill it and put it back over the fire before they had no more boiling capability.

The older girl attempted to be positive, and Aranica winced. She admired Dru, but sometimes she really didn't understand her. Still, it was good to be cheerful about things, so the District Twelve tribute ordered her face to smile and went to sit back down next to the others. (She started to hug Dru, then paused, unsure if she should. It was hard to tell, sometimes. She ended up waving at both the returning tributes, which wasn't the same but was at least something.) "If worst comes to worse," she said happily, "You guys can always eat me for food. Beats me how much meat you'd get out of me, but it's something, right?"

"Not exactly positive, Aranica," her rock chided.

Oops. One side of her mouth turned down as she considered this. It wasn't, was it? However, at the same time, it wasn't entirely negative. She had already accepted that she was likely to die- that she wanted to die, because she wanted at least one friend to get out of this alive- so why not make the comment? It wasn't like it changed anything, and if eating her could help them, then it was a good thing.

((OOC- Uh. o.o Blame Cinder, she started the cannibalism discussion.))

[Drinks water]

[Tori]

As Jango talked to Argent he learned something he didn't know. Betrayal? Is that how Argent had become a part of their alliance? Jango had never known the real way it had happened. Only that it had. "Well, think of it this way, you might have hurt them this way less. Had you stayed with them, they might have developed a friendship with you. And it would have hurt more departing when he had to face them again. You did the right thing."

"You're alive, and going to win for them. That is your new mission. You know it." Jango was rambling. Of course Argent was bonded with this alliance now. Maybe that hadn't been the best of advice. Dru suddenly remerged from the woods area and congratulated everyone being alive. Jango almost laughed at this. Being unobservant, it wasn't until after Ara's comment that he realized why she said it. But what an unpredictable comment.

Jango gasped and let his jaw drop. "Ara? Why would you say something like that? We're not going to eat you." He couldn't even begin to fathom the idea. Eat her? "I mean if it comes down to it we could.." Jango glanced at the other members of his alliance tried to keep in a laugh. "I'm kidding, honey. Why would you even suggest such a ridiculous idea? We'll get food, don't worry."

[Micra]

I allow myself a moment to wallow in despair for myself, fear for Nachele and Cherry, fear for Aranica, and anger at myself for being attached enough to be afraid for them. I'm such a failure as a Career. My dad probably doesn't even want me to win anymore. Platine, my sister, likely hasn't noticed I'm gone. And my Mom... well, Mom'll get over it soon. It's not like she's losing her favorite child. I've already disgraced my family and District by wanting to die. I'd have to do something amazing to make them care for me again. Like decapitate all the other tributes. Ugh. I never knew how stupid the people in our District were. This is no honor.

I think the real reason the mentors train kids is so that they're less likely to die. It has nothing to do with honor. But if the training is about survival and keeping our District alive, rather than to entertain the Capitol and bring honor to your family, I wonder what the hell else in my life is a lie.

"Everything, probably," I murmur to myself. My whole damn life has been wasted slaving over a nearly impossible goal and being lied to. Now, it's going to end, when I've finally started to find the truth of things.

Then, I wonder about death again. I heard a legend that good people live a perfect life forever, and bad ones go to hell and suffer an eternity of death and pain. Am I bad? I never thought about that before. I'm a killer, a murderer and an awful friend. But could dying be worse than this? Won't be long before I find out.

Something says my name. It's not the voice in my head going on a tirade again, though. I wonder if inanimate objects have begun to talk to me, like they do to Ara. Ara. Of course. Suddenly the weirdest thing happens.

She moves next to me, and wraps her arms around my injured, confused, murdering body. What the hell are you doing? I think, stiffening. Is she trying to strangle me? If so, her hands need to be higher, around my neck. Holding me down, maybe, so Jango can finish the job. Well, I hope he makes it quick then. I feel strangely comforted. I wouldn't mind dying now, with a small bit of comfort.

I soon realize though, that nobody's trying to kill me. A flicker of recognition from normal families, or my friends who could actually obtain girlfriends strikes me. A hug. Now I feel stupid. The last time I was hugged I was five, maybe six years old.

I try to imitate Ara's movements, putting my arms around her and awkwardly patting her. Eventually she leaves to get the water, leaving just me and Jango.

"Well, think of it this way, you might have hurt them this way less. Had you stayed with them, they might have developed a friendship with you. And it would have hurt more departing when he had to face them again. You did the right thing." That had been part of my reason for leaving in the first place. But I still feel like Sul and Kale's deaths are my fault.

"You're alive, and going to win for them. That is your new mission. You know it." If I win for anyone, it will be for me. So I can teach the kids in District 2 that the arena isn't all fun and games. Right now, though, I'm feeling a strange compulsion to keep Nachele alive, and she's not even here. I need to get rid of those sorts of thoughts. I need to win.

"Yeah," I say to Jango.

Now Dru and Shanks have returned. I look up hopefully, but see that they've caught nothing. Well that sucks.

"You guys can always eat me for food. Beats me how much meat you'd get out of me, but it's something, right?" offers Ara, seeing the lack of food. I want to grab her and shake her. But I don't.

"Don't ever talk like that!" I say. "We're never going to be that desperate. The Gamemakers won't like for us all to starve to death, especially not an entire alliance. There's got to be food at least a few islands over."

And if not, no way are we eating Aranica. This whole affair just makes me feel worse. I stand up and begin to take slow sips of the purified water, hoping to calm my spinning head. At least we have water.

[Argent drinks Water]