Best Quotes From Every Tribute, Every Day

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

[googlefont="Homemade Apple:400"]day one.

I will be collecting my favorite quotes from all tributes every games day. With each day, the number of quotes for each tribute will increase by one.


"I guess beauty isn't so important now. You couldn't save my life - but I think you've saved my soul."

- renee perdris, district one female [ Onyx ] in that was when i ruled the world


"My thoughts lapse as I get lost in the swinging of her legs again, the swish of her hair. She shouldn't even be here. She's only a kid. She's just a kid. Why is she here? I stumble, catch myself—blink, blink. She shouldn't be in this place, I--

The air in my lungs is blown out of me by some force only the darkness knows."

- justice fray, district one male [ arx!! ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"Fire and brimstone, they crack against her skin and she feels her stomach burn with the acids she sprays, venom seeping from her lips as she snaps back into the broken reality she's been cast in. She watches him until her vision is blocked by the tributes she fights, the girl from five putting a gash into her hand. She growls, venom seeping from her lips as she sees the shape of Percy's broken body fade into the distance.

She forces herself to sprint the other way, praying the Lucy and Petra are right behind her, silently knowing that they are not.

The shadows dance and cackle right along with her, and with every step she takes in the path of a thief she becomes lost in their embrace, feeling the shadowy grasp of their fingertips. The world spins, and every time she tries to spin with it the innards of the shadows that cling to her splatter across the floors she stand son, dark blues and bloody purples seeping into the cracks."

- achilles muto, district two female [ pogue ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"Travers may not have been able to give justice, but there was mercy."

- travers, district two male [ marguerite harvard d2a (zori) ] in that was when i ruled the world


". . . the waves became nothing but the sigh of the ocean, soft, gentle absolutely harmless to those who found themselves on its shores; but for those who had been shipwrecked on the sands of that beach during the chaos, found themselves with nowhere to go as before them, lay a desert of skeletons, the carcasses of ships littering the dunes that lay before them. They had nowhere to turn, they could return to the waters where once they came, the chaos which had tossed them here sure to do it again or they could venture out into the unknown; the unknown was the more desirable choice."

- hypatia anning, district three female [ ali ] in that was when i ruled the world


"Back and forth, the twisting and shifting of your inner magma splashed toward two different paths. The mountain was holding firm, for the moment, but soon the entire continental plate would slide and an earthquake of motion would surface up from the depths."

- ross wolfe, district three male [ Kire ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"Everyone knows she's the one to beat. Victory is in her genes, but not her expression. This is the face of a girl who hates herself for being who she is, who wishes with complete and utter sincerity that she could be anyone else in the world right now. At least the tributes whose canons boomed are at peace. Scout's soul is at war with itself, with every labored breath she takes, with the threat of every wavering shadow.

She doesn't have the courage to die."

- scout krigel, district four female [ L△LIA ] in all my friends are heathens


"With a heart of lead - soft, malleable, too heavy to remain in his chest - Jolly Roger glances over at the bloody girl who's still literally trying to hold herself together. Scout Krigel is dead and Roger can't get the idea out of his mind that it would be kinder of him to make it official.

He could do it painlessly — or damn near. He knows he could. He's got the strength from heaving sails to break her neck in half a second — snap! and then sleep. Or wait until exhaustion overtakes her and smother the girl in her sleep. Or pull her into a hug, slip the point of his small blade between her fourth and fifth ribs. Does it count as stabbing her in the back if it's meant as a mercy? (He shuts his eyes tight against the imaginary scene in answer to himself.)

Even if Roger could do it, he can't."

- roger strangways-teach, district four male [ aya ] in all my friends are heathens


"I never wanted to be forgotten, I wanted to be Emmery Johnson and I wanted to leave my mark on the world, but now it fades, and is replaced by the want, the need, the desire to be forgotten and tossed away recklessly, shoved into a body bag, my face displaying on the hologram over the night sky, my name listed down amongst the dead and a small recap of my death broadcasted on screens around Panem, and then nothing.

Maybe then I'll find peace."

- emmery johnson, district five female [ jess ] in that was when i ruled the world


"Alone. That’s the way he had planned to go in the arena. No one to look after, no one to be attached to, no one to hold him down. Alone is what he had been living life as before, but this was different."

- minos vallanso, district five male [ Tom ] in that was when i ruled the world


"(to be determined when lucy's fillers are filled in)"

- lucrezia eckhart, district six female [ gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"I run like the dealer boy back in district six, like the fuckass who everybody knew would die before even hitting twenty, and here I am. Here I am holding a child in my hands and 'Stevie,' the consonants like rust. I'm a rat, a mess, everybody wanted me fucking gone but here I am and I just keep going without my own consent, this wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't supposed to be her, it wasn't supposed to be me here holding her and it wasn't supposed to be blood caked in my hair and still in my veins, I'm fine. And I know I shouldn't be."

- stevie masinova, district six male [ @fabulousraven ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


". . . it seems you haven't lost your game yet."

- iris flower-oak, district seven female [ pup ] in that was when i ruled the world


"Daniel Tate has come to face the life of a father who'll never meet his child. He doesn't even know if it'll be a boy or a girl, twins or a single baby. He doesn't know anything.

And likely, he won't even know their name."

- daniel tate, district seven male [ thompson harvard - d2b - arc ] in that was when i ruled the world


"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK that's hot.

She'd learned how to stifle a scream whenever her father had gotten into one of his drunken rages back home, and the knowledge still lies within her as she clenches her teeth and hisses in pain. "

- natalie brandt, district eight female [ lance ] in that was when i ruled the world


"Now her chest was torn open, gaping like a red cavern. Time and time again he had watched children die with white backdrops and white sheets, their cheeks caved in and their eyes glazed with tears.

This felt like home all over again, but it also wasn’t. Home was white, and silence was driven away by the quiet sobs of relatives. Everything here was red and the void was filled with gasps and the distant sound of Justice’s struggle. He probably should’ve done something about that."

- machaon amador, district eight male [ Python ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"She blinks. Her vision spins and she blinks, watches with eyes like glass as Renée breaks beneath her blade, crumples to the ground as if she is not flesh, not bone, but paper. She finds that she nearly falls, too, against the impact of what she has done. It hits her like a stone, tears through her chest and splits her spine.

She blinks. Percy catches her breath, inhales sharply at the burn in her lungs. One, two, three, she turns away from Renée, but what faces her is more than a blur of chaos and crimson. Heathcliff Travers, whose eyes are aflame with rage, stands before her. And time becomes her enemy- it slows down, turns everything to tar, and yet does not allow the space for Percy to move quickly enough.

In not even a split second, Heathcliff's blade becomes a blur in her eyes and crimson spatters through the air.

She

blinks.

And then she is nothing."

- percy delacroix, district nine female [ я𝑜𝓈𝑒 ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"There are no guns in this arena. I cannot hide behind the rush of a bullet into fragile skulls, there are no devil's tears to tear into skin and save me the pain of watching life drip slowly from the tips of their fingers. This time it is Percy's clock, the chimes of midnight thundering about the whole of my being and forcing a peculiar pressure into the back of my eyes.

When her eyes find mine it's all I can to keep from crying, swallowing the boulder rising in my throat. 'Atlas it's so cold.' (Like that night on the balcony.) The very memory is a weight sent crashing into my chest, shattering my lungs and stopping my heart."

- atlas white, district nine male [ [nyte] ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"Her heart was racing because she wasn't certain his was beating."

- bailey truus, district ten female [ Arrows ] in darkness doesn't hide death


"Even though I feel like death, I put my chin up, without giving the girls so much as a painful exterior. Bailey knows better though because she doesn't hesitate to wrap her arm aroun me, too. We go off into the distance darkness beckoning me to indulge into it's hollow mouth."

- kizzy turren, district ten male [ * ] in darkness doesn't hide death


"Hushed words whisper from their lips, and again Iona discovers herself speechless. Gratitude, apologizes, and so much more begs to collapse from her tongue, while none do."

- iona holbrook, district eleven female [ Cameo {RIP Charlie} ] in darkness doesn't hide death


"Crusader?

Tears burned his eye sockets. His hand lowered, and his guard was dropped for only a moment. I miss you, brother. I'll be joining you soon. Heavy thoughts raced through his mind, and the only image remaining visible was his deceased brother's face embedded into his mind."

- weaver rhodes, district eleven male [ Knuckles ] in darkness doesn't hide death


"Every cloud has a silver lining, but I can't put my finger on it. I'm too absorbed in the pain I feel for Percy and the pain I feel in myself. I'd been on the receiving end of lesser blows, lesser blows from the potatoes from Ten and Eleven. A beaten body surrounds me—perhaps these blues and purples are a reflection of my true colours—and there is blood dripping from my neck and hands.

Bloodied knuckles move to the wounds to try to stop the hurt, but I made it out alive—Percy has a delicate but decrepit heartbeat.

It barely beats."

- petra vipointe, district twelve female [ D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza] ] in sinners and saints, it's the price we pay


"They arrive. Two corpses traipsing through a field of dried blood and the fresh imprints the dead bodies have left. One towers over the other, one limps while the other drifts. They look at home. Two corpses traipsing through hell.

'Not me,' whispers Cedric to no one as he presses himself against the walls of the Cornucopia, praying that the shadows will tuck him away for what’s coming. 'Not for me.'

Here, the living and the dead are the same."

- cedric lane, district twelve male [ chelsey ] in all my friends are heathens

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

[googlefont="Homemade Apple:400"]day two.

"She even dropped the name 'Shore' as soon as she could, opting for something much more—earnest.

Fucks sake I'm an ass."

"I was a soft kid; I preferred playing dress-up to playing swords, wearing satin gloves to wearing chest plates. Four. Of course my family helped me through it. They beat the weakness out of me with iron fists. Five.

Before yesterday I hadn't cried since I was ten years old."

- justice fray, district one male [ arx!! ] in you can call me monster


"Bang.

His blood splatters against the side of her face, bloodying the boundaries of the kingdoms he'd made against her lips. She falls, gasping for breaths she had never deserved in the first place."

"'Don't leave me.' It calls from the darkness.

That was its mistake. They already had."

- achilles muto, district two female [ pogue ] in thicc succ


"This was her truth, and truth was like the morning dew—only those who dared to live among the quiet and still heard it."

"Travers had never believed in destiny, but there was something to the fact that she had been placed with these two. They had changed her, brought her out anew, and lit the fire now burning in her stomach."

- travers, district two male [ marguerite harvard d2a (zori) ] in paint the sky red


"Sunset, sunrise, these things were not part of this hellish arena where fire and brimstone reigned over the darkness, they were all but a distant memory now. There was no sun to shine upon them, no moon to signal that it was time to rest; time had no hold on this dominion, what with no distinguishing passing of time but despite this its chaos still lingered. She could feel the tide of it, pulling them deeper into oblivion."

"Her scream numbs the silence, filling the world quickly with sound but to Hypatia, she can't hear it; silence and a white searing pain engulfs her for a moment and she feels like she is Icarus and that she'd flown too close to the sun; but rather than falling from grace, the fire gives her strength."

- hypatia anning, district three female [ ali ] in give me a bone here


"Without looking - without being able to look - you know there is blood welling up from three small red lines in the flesh of your arm. You growl, the rumble shaking deep in your chest. Around you is cold stone equal to the cold stone of your figure. This one creature was nothing to fear, and it should instead fear you."

"There. You moved to face the sound, raising your weapon once more. With the way it struggled to get the right speed - the off-timed beats of its wings and the faint sounds of pain letting you in on the fact that it was having trouble - you knew that it was already heavily wounded."

- ross wolfe, district three male [ Kire ] in i don't flirt


(to be determined once scout's day 2 fillers are filled in)

- scout krigel, district four female [ L△LIA ] in & every map is blank


"He's fond of the girl he doomed to die, but he's only got one sister and he's already lain down his life for her. When it comes down to it, Roger knows he's too selfish to be fonder of someone he's known for a week than of his own life.

But with no danger lurking, it doesn't mean he won't offer her a piggyback ride away from this hell and into the fresh one that awaits them."

"No matter — even a hell beast must have a finite amount of blood, if only the career boy could manage to spill it."

- roger strangways-teach, district four male [ aya ] in & every map is blank


"I do not want victory. I only want to survive the day."

"I want to be gone from this conflict, because every drop of blood leaked reminds me of washing my own father's crimson blood staining my shirt away, only to toss the shirt away because it wouldn't come off.

The blood never left that shirt, and I shall let no blood leave my body."

- emmery johnson, district five female [ jess ] in paint the sky red


"The night moved on, sorrows forgotten in the darkness of the arena. A sudden want to mourn the death of the two fallen hits him, but it’s too late. He has to live for them. For the fallen. A living corpse mourning the death of two."

"The games were eye opening, even if it meant facing death head on, Minos would do it again no matter what would happen, as long as he got to feel the light again. Percy and Renee had fallen to the darkness, but with Daniel next to him, he wouldn’t go, unless Daniel dies or Minos dies protecting Daniel. Someone deserved to live, and it definitely isn’t him."

- minos vallanso, district five male [ Tom ] in give me a bone here


"Darkness.

It surrounds me on all sides. It sits in front of me. It threatens to devour me. I lay there on my back, staring up at the dark sky, the world spinning around me. Blood runs from my side and I'm not sure if I can get up. I'm not sure if I can move anymore.

I'm not sure if I want to."

"I'm brought back from my dream and my eyes find hers, wide with fear. I shake my head slightly. I'm not sure what's going on, all I know is that my head won't stop spinning. 'I don't want to be cold anymore,' And I can almost swear that the ground disappears underneath me."

- lucrezia eckhart, district six female [ gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ ] in thicc succ


(to be determined when rave writes stevie's dp, as rave was absent for day 2)

- stevie masinova, district six male [ @fabulousraven ] in untitled thread


"The only blood being added to this mess is yours."

"Even thought I know that I won't be the one walking out of here, if I can make it one of them I can die in peace. I want to give them the chance to escape from the darkness, even if it means making myself stay in the void."

- iris flower-oak, district seven female [ pup ] in paint the sky red


"Nothing to remain in the once filled with life. We have no difference in life or death in this place because all of the life inside of it turns to death."

"The cave gives no stars, no stories to learn or be told during the night. It's blank. No emotion, no story. Just a damned ceiling of rock."

- daniel tate, district seven male [ thompson harvard - d2b - arc ] in give me a bone here


"Renée Perdris was beautiful even in death, even in an image magnified many times its original size. Her face was no longer broken and mangled, her eye no longer a bloody socket, her skin no longer marked with the edge of a sword.

She thought that the Career girl would prefer it that way."

"For a moment, all she felt was shock. She, Natalie Brandt, seamstress from the cursed eighth District, had just destroyed a muttation with a single blow.

Then, shock gave way to elation.

A grin broke out across her face, the first real joy she had felt since the Games had began."

- natalie brandt, district eight female [ lance ] in give me a bone here


"They walked away from Percy with heavy hearts and cannon fire in their ears. It echoed into a rumble, like Hell’s heartbeat was thumping overhead."

"His mouth was dry and empty of words, but curses replayed over and over in his head. 'This isn’t happening,' Atlas said. Denial was an ugly, pitiful thing, yet he could sympathize with it whole-heartedly."

- machaon amador, district eight male [ Python ] in you can call me monster


"My cheeks are hollow and stained with salt, tears no longer dare to crawl down sunken skin as I gather my bag and leave the bloodstain that was once my friend behind. A piece of my shattered heart stays with her."

"It wasn't supposed to be this hard, I wasn't supposed to feel a damn when they died but instead I am consumed. By grief, by rage. By fear that is sweat dripping onto my tongue, tainted with a sweet iron scent.

'Don't worry Stevie.' I murmur, eyes locking onto the monster instead of him. 'We'll take care of these two, you just rest.'

And a canon's blast is fired upon deaf ears.

He's going to be fine."

- atlas white, district nine male [ [nyte] ] in you can call me monster


"Bailey's dreams shook with chaos erupting from not just the 73rd games but the 68th alike. In every face that flashed through the misty landscape pain and horror resided within their irises."

"She had seen enough death than she ever needed. Enough desolation to leave her senses destroyed. If Bailey had to witness another death of someone she cared about she wouldn't ever resurface from complete numbness."

- bailey truus, district ten female [ Arrows ] in itsy bitsy spiders . . .


"We move quickly, not wanting to stay in one place too long and as we do, we become blinded by the complete darkness that envelopes us all into its devouring mouth."

"Think... if we reach the end... and there's light at the end of the tunnel, are we still alive?"

- kizzy turren, district ten male [ * ] in itsy bitsy spiders . . .


"If you go towards the light, that means you’re dead."

"And the greater concern is whether she’ll be a burden on her team’s safety in the days to come. She grins meekly in return to the Blonde’s heroism, until her vision collapses in shame."

- iona holbrook, district eleven female [ Cameo {RIP Charlie} ] in itsy bitsy spiders . . .


"He closed his eyes allowing the entire darkness to crawl across his body. But he knew sorry wouldn't cut it.

Darkness devoured him. Most of his time was spent patching his battered ally while the others cared for themselves, however, Weaver understood their desire to survive."

"This game had gone on too long, and he wasn't about to let them live it down."

- weaver rhodes, district eleven male [ Knuckles ] in itsy bitsy spiders . . .


"A single glance to the sky and there are no stars to guide me. Empty sky, empty mind; I feel myself in every part of this world. In the black, I find insecurity. In the echoes, I find my curiosity and in the fires that burn, I find my serenity."

"No colour is found in this madness. It's metallic and monochrome; a madness embodied in the colours I find within myself. Darkness had managed to eclipse the light in my heart and create a scene of a beautiful tragedy.

A beautiful tragedy where lights only leaks and never flows."

- petra vipointe, district twelve female [ D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza] ] in thicc succ


"He misses home, oddly enough. Even weirder is the fact that home is nothing but a fortress of his mother’s shadows, or coal mines coughing up hollowed out boys, or a moth-eaten bed that feels too big. But, even hell can make a boy long for darkness and emptiness if it means he won’t have to feel scared."

"Ruby-red drops bloom from the gash, like a faucet with a leak. His right hand moves to touch the wound, to stain its fingers with its own blood, as if to see if it’s really real."

- cedric lane, district twelve male [ chelsey ] in sitting in his nowhere land

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

[googlefont="Homemade Apple:400"]day three.

"Alright, babe, I think we should establish a safe word before this gets out of hand. How about 'peach cobbler?'"

"It's easy to taunt when it's all I've been taught. The head of my axe is dripping with blood and when I look at it, I feel like I could actually be sick. So I don't look at it. I pretend I don't know who it belongs to, and I pretend I don't care."

"Of course it was only for a moment and I ended up the loser anyway, but in that moment I finally felt what it was like to be better. And it feels exactly like--

'Ah, fuck!'"

- justice fray, district one male [ arx!! ] in take all the courage you have left


"She sees rotting hearts and melting skin, shattered obsidian obsession and sliced through eyeballs. The shell of a man walks through her dreams, haunted by the shadows she has so long found comfort in. They wrap around his skin, stabbing fingertips into his veins, marking their territory on the bones that creak and crack beneath their pressure. Wordless, he wanders, shadows falling from his body like rain drops, like scattered flower petals.

Like blood."

"It's on the second heartbeat when the rage boils up like blood, seeping out from her wounds like wildfire, burning away every imprint a man's hands had ever left on her skin. It spreads and spreads, lighting the tattered satin sheet angel wings that hang from her back. Her vision goes red, images of the pool of blood hissing and screaming at them flashing through her mind."

"That's when they come, the memories.

They're bloody and corrupt, conceived beneath the glare of shadows and satin bedsheets, of harshly lit training centers and strobe lights bouncing against stripper poles. Her mind swirls in the shadows, frost blossoming along the surface, turning to blood and giving way to an array of ghastly blues and death soaked purples."

- achilles muto, district two female [ pogue ] in take all the courage you have left


"And she thought, how lucky she was to have such a dream before waking. Would that it could have lasted just a bit longer, she would have died right then and there to have never woken up.

The smell of blood is putrid. But what of the world around them? Two more faces came in the sky last night, ones she never met. Would people think the same of her?"

"She had willed herself to volunteer for the games and it had been so; she had willed herself to change and she had done so; she would survive this fight, and it would be so. That was what the others couldn’t understand—despite her short stature, that she was far younger, that she was dripping blood and close to death—no one had a will comparable to Travers."

"'The last thing you’re going to see is my eyes before you die, Eleven.' It was not a threat. Not a promise, either. Just the truth—because Travers was living nothing but the cold, honest truth from then until her final breath."

- travers, district two male [ marguerite harvard d2a (zori) ] in tempest in a teapot


"The wind screamed, and it screamed hard, moaning gutrally as it erupted from whatever place it was birthed. It screamed and tore towards them, knocking them down suddenly. Hypatia held her hands infront of her face as she felt the war of invisible force knock her backwards, sending her tumbling backwards into the dark."

"A shock to her system, she freezes as she watches a trickle of blood begin to ooze from the gash, the blood bubbling up from the depths with in, but the moment surpasses quickly when she realizes where the tribute is headed."

"Her face flood with whiteness, eyes widening in complete horror as her mind continued to do countless equations and in her wild panic, her mind kept on coming to the singular conclusion that she was now facing her oblivion. Teetering on the edge of the event horizon, she held her breath as she watched her star throb as it struggled to keep itself together. At anymoment gravity would win, and the star would collapse in on itself and she would die."

- hypatia anning, district three female [ ali ] in eye of the storm


"In the dark the cold clings to you again, surrounding you like the shadows that block all sight. The air smells faintly of smoke, like a large fire burned in the distance and only traces of the dark clouds wafted down the tunnel toward you."

"There were no options other than to fight and kill to protect yourself and your territory. The blade was no longer a strange weapon in your hands, it was an extension of your arm. A large claw, a sharpened tooth, it would cut into this beast as the beast had cut into you."

"Icy limbs lost their frost and became supple and fast. The lava that spewed forth would consume everything before it in a matter of moments. This thing would be the first to burst into flames, you would make sure of that."

- ross wolfe, district three male [ Kire ] in two growling beasts


"Death's ballerina moves with the kind of fluid grace that only comes from a complete lack of control. Broken foot grinding into itself as her full weight is forced upon it, she throws her head back and bellows a scream a thousand times larger than her skinny little body."

"Death is starting to feel appealing, but blood is family and there is so very much of that here. What there isn't is one left leg or another. For someone who isn't really her brother, she and Roger are starting to look an awful lot alike. Truly, awful. It seems that the less of him there is, the more he belongs to her... undeniably."

"Fucking Ripred you stupid, dumb-faced whoremonster, why won't you just jump off the hellfire cliff already? I'm tired of trying to turn you inside out, you ridiculous roach-mongrel of a blubber gutted wormhole! Go drown in unicorn piss! Or eat glitter until you sparkle-shit yourself to death!"

- scout krigel, district four female [ L△LIA ] in ache to come home somehow


"Done is done. Fingers don't grow back. It's permanent. All of it — the Games, the wounds, dying — it's all permanent.

Rocking his weight from his knees to his heels, he sinks backwards. Kneeling upright has his back aching, and so a sigh accompanies the relief of slouching. It's all permanent."

"Flecks of dried blood and a hellfire howl expel themselves from behind Roger's beard as his momentary distraction takes him by the knee and upends him. Gravity is — as it has so often been these past few days — the enemy, and Roger Strangways-Teach has just lost that war."

"Yesterday, when he lost his thumb, he realized that every wound suffered in this hellscape was permanent, that being here was permanent — and yet, it hadn't quite sunk in. This is what he signed up for. Roger is going to die. He volunteered to die.

And what for?"

- roger strangways-teach, district four male [ aya ] in ache to come home somehow


"When daylight hits, I've had enough.

The smell of blood, flooding my mouth and nostrils and making it painfully hard to breathe, and the scent of something I've been afraid of since childhood - it hurts. Not the physical kind of pain, but mental pain, and it stabs at me through the entire night."

"It's not like yesterday, when I saw the boiling blood and felt my mind break down and my sanity drop to an all time low. This time I feel giddy as the blood oozes from the shallow cut I formed on the girl's face, and it scares me - it scares the humane part of me, and feeds the insane side, giving it strength to continue."

"It's useless. We're all corpses anyway. There's no point in talking big then going home in a body bag the next day."

- emmery johnson, district five female [ jess ] in tempest in a teapot


"The morning after the fighting started, Minos woke to his own cold sweat. Memories of his twin dead, the blood pooling around his body. His mother’s screams echoing in his skull. Another joined them, Renee’s hollow eyes floating out onto the golden liquid."

"The wind’s whispers sends a chill through Minos’ spine. A world of chaos was before him. A world of death was what he was in. Life didn’t exist. Everything was dark, everything was dead, and everything was out to kill one another."

"To be someone he could lean on for support emotionally, but this was the Hunger Games. A place where secrets killed you. A place where secrets would be kept until they fell into their graves. Corpses fighting one another carrying the weight of their sins upon their shoulders."

- minos vallanso, district five male [ Tom ] in tempest in a teapot


"'He's really gone, isn't he?'

My words are barely more than a whisper as I remember that last piece of home. As I realize I have nothing left."

"But for the first time in a long time I do not cry. Instead I stand there and grip my axe a little tighter, my lips forming into a straight line, determined to somehow make it out of here alive.

Even if I do, I know I won’t leave without any scars."

"My grip on my axe tightens and I turn back to Justice, looking him up and down, trying to savor the moment. I flash him a quick smile.

But on the inside I’m falling apart."

- lucrezia eckhart, district six female [ gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ ] in take all the courage you have left


"We left the stench of blood away that morning, staring up towards the dark sky at one point, just to see who had fallen, to see how many more we would have to kill to leave this hell and go home."

"I didn't realize that meant literally stabbing someone in the back. The girl, Iona I think her name was, I struck fiercely before an arrow came flying out of the wind, striking her dead in an instant. She was a human being too, why do we need to fight like this? I think sadly to myself."

"I had hoped that she would be different than the standard career, that she could spare a nice thought for someone else, but now I realize she is no different than all of the others.

That means she doesn't care about me, or Em, or anyone else."

- iris flower-oak, district seven female [ pup ] in tempest in a teapot


"This is prison.

No person, no mind may grasp escape from this cell without a scar. People dream of escape, breaking free of the shackles and chains that make us remain in the cell."

"I once thought that I’d never play their game. But, things change. summer ends. a new leaf falls, and it turns over a new color.

Red."

"Summer's normally a yellow and blue,
but this year it'll be painted red. The universe will become the fire of the headaches that burn my nights."

- daniel tate, district seven male [ thompson harvard - d2b - arc ] in tempest in a teapot


"'Really, mate? The Bloodbath wasn't enough for you?' she says smirking. 'Well, if you really want to be on the receiving end of my flail that badly, then I suppose I can oblige.'

She swings in retaliation, but she had forgotten about the interference of the wind. Her attack, swung into the wind, was promptly buffeted by the gusts, knocking it off course and causing the strike to pass harmlessly in front of his face.

Your move, bitch."

"'Cute, Ten, real cute.' She never had been good with names to begin with, and the boy had flown under her radar even before the Games had started. He wasn't some big name Career like Fray or Krigel.

He was just another lower district kid who happened to have luck equal to her own.

And that made him beatable."

"'Don't you dare lay another hand on her, you son of a bitch.' she growled more than spoke, voice steely cold. The wind buffeted her cheek, blowing her hair out to one side, but she barely noticed. Or cared, for that matter.

'This has gone on for far too long, Ten.' she continued, tightening her grip on her weapon. 'This ends. Now.'

And Natalie Brandt swung."

- natalie brandt, district eight female [ lance ] in eye of the storm


"Now, when he opened his eyes to watch the anthem, there was nothing except darkness. The stars weren’t shy like they had been in the Capitol; they were smothered. He would never see a star again before he died, and that fleeting thought plagued him with a sunken frown."

"The bones would shift further, his foot would swell, and then infection would slowly devour him from the inside out. What a stupid way to die.

He watched Justice carve a scar into Lucrezia’s back, and realized it didn’t matter. If he didn’t die then, he was going to die now."

"There were parts of him that perished with her, and others that had buried themselves deep inside the chambers of a shackled heart. Chains and locks kept these pieces barricaded, but they had never gone. Everywhere he went, he drowned in the earth that cushioned Lucia’s casket, and he drowned in the vacancy of her still blue eyes."

- machaon amador, district eight male [ Python ] in take all the courage you have left


"They were sleeping. It would be easy. Poetic, even, to end their lives with an ally's blade. I sat for a long time, thin streams of blood staining bare legs. I gathered every bit of courage I could manage, sucking in a breath of bitter air. My eyes were closed, I couldn't watch this.

And I cried because I didn't know what else to do."

"Say, Achilles. If I die, you owe my that kiss."

"It's not enough to stop me in my tracks- to spare the poor girl because it is either us or it is them. And I really fucking want it to be them this time. I'm not losing Justice, I'm not losing Machaon, not so soon after Stevie. Really, I'm only delaying the inevitable."

- atlas white, district nine male [ [nyte] ] in take all the courage you have left


"Years upon years had passed since Bailey had ever felt this essential to someone. At one point Esme found solace and safety within Bailey's arms and now Iona had found the same haven."

"The Capitol stole children from the safety of their homes instead of protecting them. Winds stole precious allies from vice grips. It was always about take, never about give."

"Bailey had a job to finish before she relinquished herself to total failure. She had failed at protecting those she cared for, now all that was left was to be what every game maker wanted. A tribute with no reason to live and no regrets to give."

- bailey truus, district ten female [ Arrows ] in eye of the storm


"If it's my blood you really want, then my blood is what you'll get. You'll just get it when I decide to give it to you."

"For a few mere moments of my breath, I almost forgot that I had the Truus with me. That she had not been swept up by the wind just as my other two allies had been. At this moment, I am curious, and worried to death about them, but worry can linger later."

"Painful breaths suck inward with a wheeze, alerting me to the damage still. I know, at this moment, if I do not do something to protect myself, then I'll surely be the first to perish among my alliance. We all need to survive."

- kizzy turren, district ten male [ * ] in eye of the storm


"Then suddenly the glistening weapon demolished their final enemy…well for now at least. And all she can strive for is to remember how she delivered that last attack."

"Arms encircled her, but the familiar structure of her District Partner conceives no startle. Instead she immediately envelops her scrawny arms around him, pleading to not misplace her Home. He is all she has left from there."

"No, Iona could never lose Weaver. The chaos begins to fade, and undesired separation is singly what they’re greeted with."

- iona holbrook, district eleven female [ Cameo {RIP Charlie} ] in tempest in a teapot


"His eyes narrowed as the waterfall of red fell from his hand.

But his mind wasn't there."

"His teeth gritted, Weaver turned as the voice of another unknown man ran in. Every word was lost in the wind, yet the storm wasn't dying any. Give 'em hell.

But the tiny girl from seven, a volunteer, someone much braver than Weaver ran forward stabbing Iona in the back. Blood boiled inside his body, and every part of his being went stiff."

"The cave walls he had worked so hard to build up came crumbling down,

down.

down.

A blood curdling scream grew from the pit of his stomach before finally sliding off the tip of his tongue filling the air around him."

- weaver rhodes, district eleven male [ Knuckles ] in tempest in a teapot


"There's still a shard of passion which cuts me from within, but it isn't enough to keep me stable for the entirety of this fight.

This is my fall, I can tell."

"I am terminal, I am Twelve and I have to pull my weight more so than ever because Achilles isn't pulling hers.

'I'm never going to leave you when I die, Eight.' In heaven or hell, life or death; I refuse to let him get away with my murder.

'Can you live with that?'"

"Religion is just a figment of my imagination; it's been set alight in an arson attack and it's crumbling and falling—

—another thing turning to dust.

I inhale; the bitterness of decaying hope and the sweet taste of a failing past."

- petra vipointe, district twelve female [ D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza] ] in take all the courage you have left

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

[googlefont="Homemade Apple:400"]day four.

"Even with the broken arm, the crusted blood, and the other bits of pain I'd rather pretend don't exist. I feel good; these could be the same stars from back home.

Except they're not. And this isn't home. And in this place, peace and beauty don't last."

"I know I'm supposed to think 'glory.' A story of glory, a story of honor, a story of a hero. The victor. But as the lights stick in my vision and plaster themselves to the backs of my eyelids, all I can seem to think is that this is a horror story. Our horror story, my fucking horror story."

"But it carries like a warning and I turn just in time to slash a blade away from my back.

My eyes catch on Scout first who has already moved on to swinging a sword at the creature roaring at us. Gold ink twists through my memory as I recall the night she invited the familiar names to join her. She had meant it to be a night of ranting, but all I had done was admire the curve of her hips and smoothness of her legs--- damn. I really did like her left leg."

"'So, uh, where's the peg?'

I point my axe to his lack-of-a-leg with a grin.

'I can chop off that mess of a hand for you,' I smirk. 'I'm sure they'd sponsor you a hook.'"

- justice fray, district one male [ arx!! ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"she does not sleep that night, icy blues wrapping around her obsidian skin, injecting needlepoint fingertips into her veins, adrenaline and death pumping through her bloodstream. For as hot as the arena is, she turns to ice against the dirt, watches the fall of Percy, of Petra,

of herself-

reflect against her skin, blurred and shattered beneath the dull glow that emanates from the cave walls."

"In the middle of her heartbeats she hears it, the melodic beeps echoing around the clearing, the red light slowly making its way down towards her. She sits up straight, supporting her dehydrated, starving body with her palms as the package lands to her right.

She should have never expected gifts, not after her performance in that battle.

Instead, she finds a mockery."

"If they are glass then she is the hammer that shatters them, bringing her body down full force into their, pressing skin against skin, lighting fires and melting the ice they flee from.

And then, just as quickly, she snuffs it out."

"This mutt was royalty, spinning staffs in his hands, judging others based on their sins, wearing a crown headset as if he was a god.

No, all Gods fall.

This beast is no different."

- achilles muto, district two female [ pogue ] in lasciate ogni speranza


"Travers stared at Emmery and Iris, her only tethers left to the world. They had been nothing but honest, and loyal. Never once questioning what it meant to live for another, she saw more courage in the two of them than beat in her heart."

"She took a breath—there were just thirteen others left, almost half now dead and buried. She returned to who remained, because repetition bred confidence, and pressed to think of them all."

"Death stalked her yesterday but she had not believed she would die. Again and again she had thought and believed, had faith and deceived herself that—there was unfinished business, still more for Travers to do."

"And in that moment, where fate was so fluid she could feel it brush her fingertips, Travers turned away from what was easy—the boys bickering behind her—to the dragon at her front."

- travers, district two male [ marguerite harvard d2a (zori) ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"Stomach turning in hungerhatredhorror, it clenches with more emptiness than she knows what to do with. This place will swallow her up before she figures out how to be full again. When the electric blue dawn arrives there is nothing within her except a few muddled pieces of teenage angst and Roger is little comfort, wracked with his own misery."

"The light evolves. Cave drawings come to life and dance around them and both Scout and Roger's cries are muffled as the screaming of mutts and tributes, of the living and the dead, cry out all around them, stoking panic in their guts. They have nothing else to chew on and it possesses them . . ."

"Fire fades, the cocoon of smoke releasing her in time to witness Roger take a swing at the only other person here Scout feels closely connected to. "Roger, no!" It's impossible to reach him in time to stop the attack, but she tries anyhow, her panicked sword catching the incredible bones of a god by accident."

"Adrenaline convinces her she has grown wings from her back because how else could she suddenly feel this high? The air whirls and the Pegasus Queen swears she is not pretend, she is real and this dragon is her captor and her fellow queen all at once."

- scout krigel, district four female [ L△LIA ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"If Roger had expected this, he would've refused. Would've refused all of it.

The pirate doesn't stack up well against District Two, District One. One-legged, nine-fingered, hauling around — or being hauled around by — the only person in here who's in as bad shape as Roger. Ragged and red-eyed, covered in a shell of crusted blood, not a single kill to his name —"

"Fight one thing at a time. Don't be an idiot. Don't be unlucky.

He'd already failed that last bit."

"He'd never been brave. Every act of dauntless heroics had been born of sheer stupidity and a reckless disregard for his wellbeing — which had never been any less than well.

Roger Strangways-Teach is human, so cowardice comes easy."

"Roger doesn't want Justice Fray's stupid fuckboy smirk to be the last thing he sees before he dies."

- roger strangways-teach, district four male [ aya ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"But if either of us die, I do not want it to be at the hands of the other. I won't stand for that.

Morning comes faster than I'd like, and I know we'll just set off again, on a new journey for a new fight, and I don't know where we're going and I don't know who I trust anymore. Travers and Minos, at each other's throats - if it came down to that, what would I choose?"

"On the first day, it was the cornucopia, exposing us to the fiery inferno we'd die within - on the second day, it was my nightmare come true, the pit of boiling blood, bubbling and releasing an aroma that still hasn't fully gone from my senses, and on the third day, it was the howling storm, where I plunged my knife into the flesh of a boy whose name I didn't even know."

"There are others here, and familiarity hits me - I've been in this situation before, with other tributes around me, and I know that even though we're faced with a beast eventually all blades will turn to each other and we will engage in war.

A war I have no part in."

"So I take responsibility. I will aid the others in slaying the beast. I will refuse to hurt any other person, not like yesterday, not when I stabbed the boy from Eleven and watched him fall to the ground, life quickly escaping his eyes."

- emmery johnson, district five female [ jess ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"A sorrow in the air as they approached the blonde girl who kept him stable in a place of instability. Minos pushed forward. His words lost, the only thing he could get out is a question, ”Hypatia? Where is she?” He knew what the truth was just by the look on her face."

"No one could be protected from the unimaginable. The hellish arena was out to kill them all, he knew that, but no one was safe."

"Minos was weak, a man who had already killed before, couldn’t even hit anyone. His blade’s failed to even touch a body in a terrible way. And it was pissing Minos off. His sins hide upon his back, and that’s when it hit him. They were weighing him down."

"Swords, sharpened horns, knives, axes. The game they were playing was hell, and the only winner of hell was death and the devil."

- minos vallanso, district five male [ Tom ] in lasciate ogni speranza


"I have been taught a lot of things.

I have been taught when to hold my tongue.

I have been taught when to sit still.

It is rare that I would do what I was told. But I have learned things here as well. I have learned what it’s like to lose. I have learned how to suffer even more. I have somehow learned to be strong. And even though I almost never listen-

It seems here I have no choice."

"She’s the last thing I have here. She’s the only reason I’m alive. The reason I haven’t fallen apart.

She’s all that I have left."

"But when my blade finally cuts deep into the beast I can’t help but smile. I was finally able to make a difference, be somewhat of a help. Maybe Achilles will keep me around for a little longer now.

I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not."

"But now I know. I’ve seen it. And I can’t help but grow a little more scared.

I can’t help but to gain a little more respect.

She’s the reason I’m here. She’s the only reason I’m alive.

And I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to repay her."

- lucrezia eckhart, district six female [ gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ ] in lasciate ogni speranza


"Roger appeared to want to destroy the beast as much as we do, but Justice seems to be intent on taking out my friendTravers. I can't exactly call her a friend now, no. "

"Justice goes off an totally ignores me. He's more of an hottieass than any tribute I've seen in these games. Same with his allies too."

"Now is not the time to be launching my self at a much hotter stronger foe and act like a hypocrite. Now is the time to act.

I look up at the dragon again and grimace.

'Oh look, a dragon.' I say, keeping my voice slightly annoyed.

'Im gonna kill it.'"

"I look back up at the dragon and my trembling arms raise the spikey bat, and I speak in a low voice towards it, 'Swing batter batter batter swing.'

The little mantra a friend of mine used when I was little rings through my voice, and then I swing."

- iris flower-oak, district seven female [ pup ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"One by one, they would fall within this small center that's driven by bloodshed. The limp bodies that used to be breathing and moving around lay there with no escape from the clutch of death that overwhelmed them."

"t was then, in the hell that surrounded them with no hope of rest, that the plague had infected his mind. The disease brought such immense pain emotion. It brought fear, brought hopelessness."

"Pain was something new to the male from seven, and it was almost like a new toy that a child got for their birthday. It was something that they pleasured and wanted to touch right away."

"He wanted to stop right then and there and tend to it immediately, but Daniel was often never one to take a break from trying to live. Hand clutching the bag, his mind was focused on preventing his breathing moments to falter."

- daniel tate, district seven male [ thompson harvard - d2b - arc ] in lasciate ogni speranza


"Had this been any other day, she would have attempted to break the tension with a sarcastic jab here and a playful smack there.

But this was no ordinary day."

"Then another voice shouted, and her blood ignited in fury.

'I killed Hypatia Anning.'

She recognized that voice, clenching her teeth as the mental image of a girl with mismatched eyes flashed across her mind, and before she knew it she was yelling, pouring her anger into a single word.

'Truus!'"

"Despite the very real threat that the beast posed, she couldn't help but smirk.

Even artificial life had a sense of humor, to an extent.

'You don't say?' she retorts back, smirk transforming into a feral grin. 'It's not like we're playing a game that can have multiple winners.'"

"She had already failed to save one ally from the blade of Bailey Truus, and Ripred be damned if she was going to fail a second time.

With eyes blazing and heart burning with righteous anger, Natalie Brandt struck.

For Hypatia."

- natalie brandt, district eight female [ lance ] in lasciate ogni speranza


"Death was not always quiet.

Sometimes it sounded like a whisper; the last breath of a dying old woman, when she could stare at a white ceiling and believe it was angelic. Sometimes it sounded like a heart monitor abruptly falling flat, footsteps echoing as nurses hurried to check on the source.

This time, it sounded like blood squelching and flesh tearing. His sword drew a gory red ribbon across the girl’s chest and she dropped like a domino, luring death to brush his skeletal hands across her cheeks."

"'I might be mentally deficient, who knows,' he grumbled, and he could see that the career’s anger was justifiable. It’s my fault, he thought. He was a coward. He would rather turn his back to their biggest threat – a monstrosity of a mutt – than face it with confidence. Everything about its existence sent chills through his bones. It wasn’t a living, breathing creature, but a robot carved of realistic skeletons. It didn’t feel, it didn’t bleed, and it sure as hell wouldn’t die."

"Welcome to the fucking Hunger Games was right. He would have to do things he didn’t want to do, see things he didn’t want to see, and die a way he didn’t want to die. There was no golden crown in store for him; it was melting somewhere with Stevie’s blade. The Hunger Games would drive him into killing, just as it had yesterday. Why? Fear of death, longing for life, human instinct, all of the above."

"There was red in the career’s words as well, and red blossoming from the scratch he left on their shoulder. 'I don’t want anyone to live but me,' they admitted, and Machaon couldn’t decide whether to feel impressed at the bold honesty of the statement, or disgusted that a human being could think this way."

- machaon amador, district eight male [ Python ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"Atlas White is not coming home and so every man and every woman I kill in this arena is a goddamned waste.

I don't know how to stop.

I'm an addict after all."

"I didn't watch the faces stain Hell's gate, I didn't want to know.

Reality sunk in when they filled my lungs with satin. Suffocating and rich, soft in its attempts to wrap thick tendrils around my throat. Machaon coughed and my eyes shot open, urgency filling my veins with more efficiency than any needle could. We ran until we couldn't see a damn thing and then we ran some more, eventually finding enough comfort in the hazy darkness to fall asleep."

"I am a flash flood. My connections are engraved upon broken skin just as fast. When we drank wine upon the train and laughed about nothing at all. When we sat upon the balcony and screamed quiet sins that were all too similar. That was when she stole a piece of my heart. She was a child but she endured- pressed metal to skulls just as I so often did. Percy was in every way, shape, and form a better me.

And they killed her.

She could have made it home, to people who gave a damn whether she came back or not.

But they killed her."

"'Hey Mach, think this asshole remembers they killed your ally's district partner or did they assume we were all gonna hold hands and sing nursery rhymes?' I scoff, heaving my weapon at the dragon again. 'Welcome to the fucking Hunger Games, Two.'"

- atlas white, district nine male [ [nyte] ] in a whirlwind reaching down


"A feeling riddled with the same wretched question, were they alive? A question no one should ever have to ask. "

"Whatever small sliver of hope and humanity which remained valiant against a storm of numbness shattered as certainty left Bailey's questions answered."

"Within the steady palm of Bailey's hand her horn felt heavy with their weight upon it. Coursing through its steel was Iona's sweetness, Kizzy's bravery, and Weaver's strength."

"Judgement was upon every monster which remained struggling here in the shadows, yet they wished Bailey to be the condemned. She couldn't burn out just yet."

- bailey truus, district ten female [ Arrows ] in lasciate ogni speranza

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

[googlefont="Homemade Apple:400"]day five.

"There is a saying back home—("Act like you've been there before.")—that is preached to the younger careers. It's for tough and unseasoned kids who think that hooting and hollering about winning a fight is the best way to go. The kids that won't just keep their mouths shut. The kids like me.

I have to pretend or my family will figure it out.

The anthem flashes before me and I see Heathcliff's face all lit up and all I can do is point and scream for joy. Because I'm a Fray and that's what I'm supposed to do. Chop off an arm, sever a leg, end a life—smile for the camera. I'm playing more than just the Hunger Games in this arena. And more than anything, all I wish I could do was cry."

"'Want another kiss, Five?'

I kiss the blade of my axe and smile.

'This one is for you.'"

"And I know I shouldn't give a flying fuck what he says, but somehow, his next words piss me off.

'I think to make you pay for your damage, I’m gonna take the life of Nine over here.'

And as his blade catches on Atlas' arm, I--

('My middle name is Sodomy.')

--I just really want to end his fucking existence."

"I don't want--I mean, they do have to die. But I--

'Is that what you two have been doing while I sleep? You could have at least invited me.'

I laugh. It's the middle of a fucking fight and I can't help but laugh. Genuinely laugh, not the fake kind, and not the kind made for the camera and microphones to hear. Real.

And I don't want them to die."

"Fuck all what my parents want, what my district expects from me—I just want to run. Of course I know that isn't an option. At least not really. Looking like a coward? Acting the way everyone here seems to expect me to by betraying my allies, leaving them for dead? No. I can't do that. I can't do anything but swing an axe.

'Machaon! Justice! Atlas! Just kill me already. End my life already, or are you too weak to do it?'

I shove my way past Natalie, her blade catching again on my arm. But it's only a scratch. And it'll take more than that to slow my rage.

I'm not sorry, Five."

- justice fray, district one male [ arx!! ] in tear stained hearts


"It is the first night that she does not dream of anything.

They leave the pool of gold broken, leaning into one another, their sins splattered across the cave walls. The shadows claw at their ankles as they hobble through the arena, dust and dirt spraying up from beneath their feet."

"She'd see their shapes form the corners of her eyes, watch their chests split and their eyes shatter, watch them fall, watch them disappear as soon as she looked. For all the ice that had gathered against her skin, they churned fires in the darkness, spat flames and lost hope into her flesh, burned their memories into her backside, etched their words against her skull.

It was the worst at night."

"She'd stay awake until Lucy's breathing became rhythmic, until the sound of water droplets falling from stalactites hypnotized her, until the shadows that rested in her bloodstream rose to the surface and took hold of her eyelids, snapping them shut. It was in the dead of the night that the dead came alive, that she watched them shatter over and over agin against backdrops of blue and purple, white and gold, red seeping in from the edges."

"She lost count of how many times she watched his eye split, reflecting against the glass.

Of how many times Percy's chest split open, bloody figures emerging from the fire in her eyes, frosted oceans snuffing thats same fire out.

Of Petra's body crumpling into the dirt, the way she felt her soul twinge at the site, felt the steel burn itself into her hand, imprints of Petra's voice plastered into her memories."

"'How does it feel?' Lucy's curiosity is what kills her, the way it laces itself into her words. She has to remind herself that this is a survivor she is talking to, that has proved herself more human than she ever would be.

This is someone who had to die for her to live.

She shrugged."

- achilles muto, district two female [ pogue ] in blood streaked skies


(will add when scout's fillers are filled in)

- scout krigel, district four female [ @ lalia ] in blood streaked skies


"He isn't sure how he isn't dead yet.

By all accounts, he should be. Roger Strangways-Teach may have jested about being all right through gritted teeth, but by no metric is the pirate anything that resembles okay."

"A glaive slices through the fray — (would that it were the Fray, but the smirking fuckboy is nowhere to be seen, so Roger can't serve justice to Justice today) — and slashes him across his arm. (Singular.)

He teeters, but keeps his feet. Foot."

"'Easy there,' he wheezes. His stomach clenches and churns, Scout's foot threatening to make a comeback. 'I still need that one.'

Roger leans into Scout, pivoting on his toes, to swing his sharp horn back in the direction that he was facing before. His resolution from yester-million-years-ago echoes, faintly. Fight one thing at a time.

He can barely manage that much. But he'll try."

"'Regret it yet?' he asks her, teeth gritted in pain but not malice. If he feels anything for the girl who wandered into his room in the Training Center all those nights ago to ask him a question — the one he's just stabbed — it's empathy. 'Volunteering?'

Roger doesn't stop fighting. He can't.

'I do.'"

"Roger's thoughts rewind to the train, the bloodbath — to the sobbing, bleeding mess he pulled from the carnage. He can't see the scared girl that spent the night after the reaping sniffling into the pirate's beard.

Roger isn't sure when it happened, but at some point over the last few days, Scout Krigel stepped into the roll of his protector and not the other way around."

- roger strangways-teach, district four male [ aya ] in blood streaked skies


"First it was Renée, falling in the bloodbath after suffering a wound to her eye. Then it was the three of us, Travers, Iris and I - we fought alongside each other, like any allies would. I refused to let them grow close to me. And I was right to do so."

"But I won't be a memory, because nobody will remember me - unlike the other tributes, who have families, mothers, fathers, siblings, friends, maybe even lovers. I have none of the above."

"I look upon them and wonder which one will be the one to kill me - "Don't have negative thoughts, or you'll have negative results" is what my father once told me. So with these negative assumptions, I know that my fate is sealed."

"If I go down, I'm not going to go down quietly - I've seen the others die and each death I've witnessed, they mean something. I want mine to mean something, even if I'll be forgotten."

"They acknowledged my existence, but I have grown stronger in the past few days. I want to take them down, but I don't know if I can - but, like my father always told me, you don't get anywhere if you don't try.

His words in mind, I turn towards the boy from four and strike."

- emmery johnson, district five female [ jess ] in blood streaked skies


"The life draining from her body, sins repent for everything she had done. Minos had judged her and told the fate what she wanted to hear, that Bailey Truus was a girl whose death was set in stone to happen that day. The world would forget Bailey Truus, like they’d forget Minos Vallanso."

"Minos feels the need to ask if he really was living. No one truly was living in the world they were in, only the dead come to the Hunger Games. Only the dead truly make it out of the arena. Only corpses find the comfort of death upon exiting the arena, with nothing more than broken bones and bloodied bodies. Minos was nothing more than that, a corpse to be with a bloodied body."

"The silent tears running down his face and a smile that only death could take away. The world was full of darkness, but there was so much light that nobody could see around. Lights that glimmered beautifully upon the world they lived in. With Darkness, you truly realize how much more precious the lights are. The storm was still raging, but it’d be over soon. Nothing but destruction and memories of the mess it caused. Minos Vallanso was the storm. Daniel Tate was the king. Natalie Brandt was the savior. And this was their story, but soon one would end. A story of the lonely boy fighting for his friends."

"The story wasn’t ending yet, but the climax had hit. Words written upon the pages, telling of the tale of Minos Vallanso. A man who tried to keep it all together for them, not himself. The most valuable lesson he learned was in the final moments of being alive with them. Love and compassion was the answer to life’s greatest mysteries. Minos Vallanso stood before them all, head held high, tears gone from his face. He was no god, only a kid with a knife."

"Death lurks around the corner waiting for Justice or Machaon’s next strike to end him. And he would accept it with open arms. He spoke again, out loud to whoever, his body felt on fire already, blood dripping down his neck. 'Machaon! Justice! Atlas! Just kill me already. End my life already, or are you too weak to do it?' As his eyes set upon Justice Fray, the man whose lips had touched his own, he struck with all the strength he had left. A final thought stuck in his head, I’m not sorry, Fray."

- minos vallanso, district five male [ Tom ] in tear stained hearts


"Death.

My every waking moment.

Every time I close my eyes.

It surrounds me.

I have never gotten a break. Not at home in Six ( My parents, Amerika, and Jequirity immediately come to mind. But there are no more tears. I am stronger than that now. ) and I have certainly had no break here. Everyday has been filled with more and more blood.

It stains my clothes. It stains the arena floor. It stains my soul."

"I know that if I somehow manage to make it out alive I will not leave the same. I have already changed so much. And I’m not sure if it’s for the better. I do not believe I would be able to look at myself in the mirror.

And that scares me beyond what words can describe."

"So I lay there awake, wondering when Death will take me.

We walk and walk until we finally find ourselves back at the start. This place is filled with memories I never want to relive, but no matter how hard I try and push Percy from my mind she finds her way in. And the pain of her death crashes over me once more. I feel as if I may fall, but then I see them approaching."

"She leaned on me as we fled with our bags, and I bore her wait rather well. She had carried me through the past few days and it was finally my chance to carry her.

I had a feeling this was going to be the one and only time."

"'Bitch,'

My hand reaches up to my jaw and I can tell it’s broken. I turn my head back again to face her. The girl from Seven, I can’t even remember her name honestly, but I can tell she’s the one who ruined my face.

'That fucking hurt,'"

- lucrezia eckhart, district six female [ gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ ] in blood streaked skies


"Just the flash of Justice's weapon, delivering it's own special sort of violent justice to my ally. I held a special fondness for the boygirl from two despite her acts and words of violence. She just wanted to kill and maim and destroy, but yet I still ached to see her gone. Now it is just Em and me, trying to survive."

"As the morning drew nearer, I watched the pirates from district four, knowing that even though they are in no condition to fight, they might have the small instinct to go straight to violence as I have seen in all other careers. I saw it in Justice, slightly in Ren, and in Travers."

"Then I see the girl from two swinging at Emmery, and all hope of friend ship is gone. I feel a burning rage engulf me. Emmery is one of the nicest people I have met out here, and she will be the one going home if I have anything to say about it."

"I feel the scream threatening to burst out of me. I attacked them, they attacked her, they killed her. It should be me getting struck down by those around me, but not her. She didn't deserve to be killed like this. My mind goes blank and I feel pain surrounding my vision."

"This girl from two, this monster like all other careers had been the first to attack Emmery here, so she is responsible for the pain I am feeling now along with that girl from four who I had considered a friend.

It was supposed to be Em who went home, but I guess now I will have to do it for her."

- iris flower-oak, district seven female [ pup ] in blood streaked skies


"That night dragged on for what seemed like ages.

She died for evil. It wasn't for revenge, it definitely wasn't in pure bloodlust. It wasn't to keep charging forth in this arena. It wasn't because they were threatened with death and had to defend themselves. It wasn't anything that could have been an excuse for it. Because one could kill millions of people, and that revenge would have never been worth it."

"Daniel soon found himself speaking for the first time in what seemed like forever. 'Minos, the only thing I'm praying is that you shut the hell up.' The dude was acting all high and mighty, when really, he was getting his ass whooped."

"All of the fighting and speaking going around confided him, got to his brain and he couldn't focus properly to get a good attack in. And he felt selfish because of that, the never ending rage that pumped with liveliness inside of his mind. It pumped a sliver of bloodlust, some feeling of fear, some want of protection. It slowly started to dissolve in a way, and he became slightly stunned from his mental battle cry."

"And in that moment, Daniel became scared. He was never good at showing emotion and telling people how he felt, and this made that fear of showing it worse. People would be waiting for him to say something like a “I feel the same way,” but he couldn't do that. Sure, there was a spot for Minos in his mind, but Blanche was the person back at home. Getting caught up in romance here was a silly thing because only one of them escape. He had Blanche watching with his kid, hell, maybe even kids coming in the future. The knife that would've lodged itself in her heart might not be able to be patched up. Some wounds are permanent and can't be fixed.

A broken heart is one of them."

"He spoke to them with the small sliver of confidence he held within him.

'I would say the same to you, but you seem to be doing great at that.'

Machaon also said that and then tried to attack Daniel, which was kind of silly in his mind. Through gritted teeth, he filled in the spot that just had lost and swing at Justice.

The best kind of justice, really."

- daniel tate, district seven male [ thompson harvard - d2b - arc ] in tear stained hearts


"Achilles had killed her before it could go much longer, and just like that, the blazing wildfire that had been Bailey Truus was just another lifeless corpse on the ground.

Bailey Truus was finally dead, but her burden was not Natalie's to carry.

She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that."

"Finally, her words found her.

'I'm sorry too, Mach.' Her voice is quiet, lacking either the ice or the fire that had coursed through her countless times since she had stepped foot in the arena. 'I can't speak for the actions of my allies, nor for their words.'

She gripped her horn tighter. 'What I do know is that your Career buddy is the one that started this fight, and that you were the one that joined him.'

Her voice wavers, but just a little. 'As I said before, I don't want to fight you. Truly, I don't.'

And she means it."

"Well, you're not wrong there.

Was it self defense when she had killed Kizzy to stop him from striking Hypatia? Was it self defense when Bailey had struck her down anyway?

It was all too confusing to ponder on the battlefield."

"Mach finished by darting off back over to where Minos was, attempting to bash her ally in a bit more. The attempt was ultimately futile, but Natalie could tell that he was fading.

Don't you die on me now, Vallanso.

She strikes out at Justice again, dragging her horn across his other arm this time to little effect. C'mon, Fray. Take your attention off of him.

Please."

"She felt the cannon before she heard it, and her heart stopped.

She couldn't look, as if not seeing it with her own two eyes would somehow deny it, but the rational part of her buried deep within knew that was a foolish notion.

So she turned, just in time to see Minos Vallanso collapse to the ground.

His descent was different from Hypatia's, quick and heavy and so final and she-

She paused, closing her eyes to stem the welling of tears building up in them.

In.

Minos was dead.

Out."

- natalie brandt, district eight female [ lance ] in tear stained hearts


"He had enough of this already; the thought of Lucia’s vacant eyes, Petra’s severed hand, and Ross with a bottle of whiskey next to his corpse. He refused to open his eyes and see their ghosts hovering above him. It wasn’t real – a mind trick triggered by poison, and he would not play this fucking game on top of the one he was already part of. The Capitol could have his body, but not his mind. The dead would not return to him in any form but memories.

As much as he missed her, he did not want to see Lucia again"

"'Last time I checked my heart was still beating,' he lied, because it was pounding against his ribcage like a pendulum hanging by one string. 'And that means I’m living. Maybe I’m not living a life of hope, but I don’t think anyone here is.'

He could lie to himself about hope, but reality always reminded him that there was none. Machaon was dead. It didn’t matter if he sat on his knees and prayed to a false God or the Gamemakers, and it didn’t matter whether Natalie was right or not."

"'Well that was a disturbing image,' he said, and he was determined to ignore the snarky comments because he was never one to see the humorous light of any situation. Death was grim. Any moment now they could kill Atlas or Justice and he didn’t want to walk away from their corpses. If he could run and cower in the corner so he didn’t have to watch them die, he would. But even he was not stupid nor frightened enough to submit to that."

"Suddenly they weren’t numbers anymore. They could speak to each other as equals, as human fucking beings. He was pretty sure that didn’t matter anymore, but it mattered to him. 'End my life already, or are you too weak to do it?'

He was. He always was, and once again Justice had to leap in and compensate for his failure. He struck Minos down and fulfilled that last wish. It sounded like more of a desperate dare, but either way he was gone. Just like Percy, just like Stevie, just like Petra, and just like Heathcliff. The wheel continued to spin. Who would it land on next?"

"'I’m fucking tired,' he gasped. It wasn’t only physical exhaustion, but a state of mental fatigue. He was tired of death because it had followed him since the day he was born. He was tired of swinging his stupid hammer and battling with nonexistent wind instead of saving his allies’ lives. He was tired of fighting for what felt like nothing. Maybe it wouldn’t be nothing, and one of them would survive. Maybe not. Maybe their pain was pointless and he was a puppet after all – but for the capitol, not for the career who was losing blood by the second.

It was quiet without Minos, save for the heartbeat throbbing between his ears and the heaving of his lungs. Every breath felt wasted."

- machaon amador, district eight male [ Python ] in tear stained hearts


"The silence is unsettling, heavy as the ghosts sat on our shoulders when I sleep. It is all encompassing, leaving no room for words as I drift into an uneasy rest. When I die, it will be alone. I have Machaon and Justice until I become an inconvenience, until I become weak. Their hearts are made of stronger stuff- of bedrock-lined obsidian and I am nothing but a means to an end. A tool with a hammer slung over broken shoulders."

"Babyface throws me a bone- quite literally. It sails past my face and onto the ground somewhere behind us, clattering to a halt just before the bank of the acid lake. His composure is nonexistent, his words are fire and brimstone come to warn us of the end of this world.

It's fucking hilarious.

Go fetch, Asshole."

"She was a small thing, something I knew I had to protect and so even when consumed by my own mistakes I sewed a smile to my lips and told her everything was fine. Everything would be okay.

And I did my best to make it okay, even when nothing was.

I guess that's what I'm doing now. Because, fuck, I'm terrified. I'm in pain and I'm trying to kill a guy whose name I don't even remember. It won't control me, not emotions so painful and real. It is nothing like the rage that sent adrenaline coursing through my veins- forced my heart to beat a thousand times faster than normal. There's no euphoria to be found in despair."

"Babyface falls, a cannon rings and I am deaf. Numb. Beard's blade kisses my skin again and I want to scream, biting the inside of my cheek so hard that I can taste blood. For a long moment, I close my eyes and allow myself to be consumed. Pain is a sobering reminder that today, I could die.

And if not today then tomorrow."

"There is a bond between the three of us, one that has grown with every drop of blood we worked together in spilling. I don't know for how much longer we can manage this- sticking together, fighting together. We all can't go home.

But I don't think about that."

- atlas white, district nine male [ [nyte] ] in tear stained hearts

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

[googlefont="Homemade Apple:400"]day six.

"'Sorry for punching you,' I say groggily, nothing above a whisper.

He shrugs and I let my hand fall from his arm.

'I’m over it.'

Needles tear through my skin, thread pulls the jagged and bloody flesh back together, bandages turn from bright white to a deep red. I twist my head to look at Atlas.

'Sorry for yelling about the dick on my face,' I mutter, managing to get the corners of my mouth to curl. 'It was actually pretty funny.'

My vision may be blurry, but his smile cuts through it.

'Fuck yeah it was hilarious.'

I chuckle for a moment before the pain cuts back in. I grimace and groan and let my head fall back against the ground. I fall asleep to the sound of silence."

"Justice wouldn't hit someone while they were down. And he would've loved to be friends with Scout. And he wishes that none of this was happening.

But Justice is just a scared little kid, trying to live up to the expectation of his one and only idol—

Fray.

I press my boot into the blade of her axe and kneel down to close the distance between us. I swallow the lump in my throat before I look at her.

'And your name isn't Krigel, Scout,' I say, managing a twinge of a smile before it quickly falls from my face. 'But we're gonna try to kill eachother anyway, aren't we?'

And it's as simple as that. I stand and I pick up my axe and I wait long enough to give her a chance to stand. And I don't know why but I want someone to know—'My favorite color is the soft pink you see in the sky when the sun sets.'—so I tell her.

And then I swing.

Because the name Justice and Fray will always go together, no matter how hard one tries to escape the other."

"She is the only person I've met in this world that proves that there is hope for me. And her blood is dripping from the blade of my axe.

I've grown used to being let down, numb to the pain of disappointing everyone. But snuffing out the only light I've ever seen throughout my years of wandering in total darkness? I don't-- I'm finally going to break. And it's going to be the girl whose best insult is something along the lines of—'You lizard-eared scumbucket!'—that does it.

I'm fighting tears now. My eyes swim but I don't let the tears fall. I brush my thumb over the tip of my nose, the purple stone sliding off easily. The corners of my mouth twist into a smile and I raise my eyebrows.

She says we could never have been friends.

'Are you sure?'

And I don't mean for my voice to break when I ask, and I don't mean for it to come out all raspy and out of breath. But my heart is twisting and my throat is tight and the rhinestone tickles on the tip of my nose and I just want to go home and for this to end so I can go back to pretending that nothing bothers me and nothing hurts.

And I wish I still had hope.

And I wish I didn't have to take someone who shines so brightly and plunge her into eternal darkness."

"She struggles to stand again, and I wonder just how many times I'll have to shove her to the ground before she stops getting back up. How many times will I have to watch her fall before the gentleman buried deep, deep inside finally decides to catch her?

She sways and I take a few steps closer with an arm outstretched. But she steadies herself after a few shuddering breaths and a bit of concentration.

And then I watch as her fingertips brush over the tip of my nose, taking the purple gem as they go. And she holds the bead of plastic to my lips and says, 'Make a wish.' And I'm convinced she truly is a fairy from another world here to grant me a single wish. Or perhaps she's more like a falling star, hoping she can make someone feel better before she fizzles out.

'I'll even friend zone you if that's what you want.'

And I really do laugh then. A spluttering, barely containing myself laugh that slips through my lips. It brings more tears forward with it."

"And I feel a single tear finally fall free.

'I wish--' I swallow the lump in my throat and try to catch my breath. And my hand shakes against hers and I wish, wish, wish that wishes did come true.

'I wish you'd tell me a fairytale.'

And I keep my eyes closed as I step back and I take deep shuddering breath. And I hope she can hear what I really mean when I say 'fairytale.' Because as I swing at her again I need her to understand what I mean.

Please, Scout. I wish you'd tell me a lie.

And this time as she crumbles, I make sure to catch her."

"The fair maiden. The sunset on the ocean, the sprinkles on the cupcakes, the light at the end of the tunnel, the only idea I’ve ever fallen in love with, and the only person who can guarantee that I’ll be okay.

I let the axe slip through my fingers and wrap my arm around her waist. I press my cheek into the back of her head. I take a deep breath and hope to taste the ocean on my tongue, but I can’t smell anything beyond sweat and blood. But that’s okay because at least I know this isn’t one of my desperate fantasies. At least I know she’s human, that she’s real.

I try to disappear into her breathing, let the rise and fall of her chest simply carry me away to somewhere new, somewhere safe. Because even though she struggles to stand, I have never known someone so steady. My fingers find the back of her neck, lacing themselves into her hair. And I think I could stay like this forever, letting the closeness and easiness of--this to consume me.

'And the fair maiden?'

I ask, breathing my question into her head.

'Is she gonna be okay?'"

- justice fray, district one male [ arx!! ] in merchants of soul


"Being apart from her other half feels strange, as if only now has she truly lost one of her legs. This is when she realizes she is no longer whole.

Parts of the pretty girl from Four have been carved away: flesh, bone, little pieces of her that once keened and laughed. Now she blinks and wonders what she sees. The water here is wrong, foul within and foul without, and yet she sees herself in it. Nothing lives in this ocean, although it is full of bones and evidence of former life. She isn't alone.

Paling at the sight of another face in the mist, she steadies herself upon the crutch of her sword. The weapon holds her up because she couldn't manage without it; it is part of who she is now, a leg and a tooth all at once. Here, she and Roger have slowly been eating themselves alive and she is so hungry, even though thoughts of it make her hate herself. Part of her heart is named Fray and she swings her sword at it, hoping it takes a bite out of his flesh the same way the choice to sever her quiet ties with him cuts away another piece of herself. 'Neither of us are supposed to be here.' Maybe they will both be lucky enough to die today. Death no longer seems as scary as what happens if she continues living.

When she takes her last breath, she does not believe kindness will be the last thing she sees."

"But I can't stop.

It's why she attacked him. She doesn't hate him, doesn't want him dead, doesn't want him hurt, even. The opposite. Scout wants Justice to live forever because he is everything that she is. They deserve to be as immortal as their names. It isn't fair that they're being torn apart piece by piece, as if being sold for parts. All she wants is for the boy in front of her not to be here in this horrible place and that's why she can't stop.

The world spins with her logic as she realizes that swinging her sword means she's unstable. Everything holding her up gives out and she goes crashing to the ground as Justice swings his own attack at her. "I don't want to know you! I don't want to know your name! I was never supposed to know your name!" The pain of collision swells in her voice as she yells, voice edged with the threat of hysterical sobbing. Rolling onto her back she makes the mistake of looking up into his face, of looking into his eyes and wondering what he sees right now. 'We would have been friends or — who knows.'"

"'I didn't want to know that,' she lies as if faking bravery. There is no realization — there never has been — that she doesn't have to fake what she actually has. 'That's such a girly color,' she murmurs and can't stop the corner of her mouth from tugging itself up into half a hidden smile before whispering even more quietly, 'you should see it when the sun sets on the ocean...'

He cuts her sentimentality off, despite leaving her body mostly in tact. A cut wells up on her arm and the small blow that inflicted it is enough to push her off balance again, her sword swinging at him once more and not entirely by accident. With a shriek of pain she hits the ground hard, head cracking against stone and one of the stitches popping free that mended the absence of her leg. The small slash on her arm can't compare to what she's already been living with. 'I couldn't have been friends with you,' she hisses through grit teeth, letting the the agony make her sound harsh enough to hide what she really means: she would have been too nervous, too full of butterflies to talk to Justice in a normal life. A million imaginary conversations would have played out in her head, about his favorite color and stories about their siblings and joking how the world could never handle them getting married and having kids someday because the world is not ready for that kind of genetically flawless hair, but in reality she'd have turned shy and hidden her face in her sketchbook as she walked away. She wouldn't have wanted him to see her cheeks turning his favorite color, only the way the air around her might sparkle as she walked away."

"A unicorn spontaneously combusts.

Tears threaten Justice's fairy tale-approved eyes and the world of pretend within Scout's fluffy, bedazzled heart falls apart at the sight. The inexplicable garden begins to wilt and the breeze within the nothingness dissipates. "Are you sure?" She shouldn't feel certain about things that have never happened, can't ever happen, wouldn't have happened no matter what because their paths couldn't have crossed in any alternate universe. They were too far away from each other, separated by distance and District walls, and so it's ridiculous to feel close to him now.

'So sure,' she whispers in the wake of his axe gashing her arm open as if determined to truly see into her. However, the false malice is gone as she looks into an expression that so closely mirrors the aching of her life this past week — pain different from lost limbs and festering wounds. Her hand lays itself across her stomach, fingers stretched out upon the sketchbook strapped to her torso with dirtied scraps of bandages. It's badly concealed, but hiding it is not the point, despite keeping her hand drawn comic books secret for as long as she can remember because cartoons aren't cool. She just wanted to be able to hold on no matter what. Harper always told her they were drawn too beautifully to be embarrassed about, but she knew it was something that couldn't ever fit into other people's ideas of who she was supposed to be. Too old for fairy tales and too pretty to be such a dork, Scout wound up suppressing so much of herself that she never felt like she'd become who she was. All sparkling surface, no depth. 'You don't look like the kind of guy girls want to be friends with. Do I not look like a girl anymore?' Instead of her missing parts, her fingers clutch a book that proves Scout Krigel is the girliest girl in the history of all girls ever, her voice laced with the kind of nervous lack of confidence that has always bumbled her honesty. 'Would you have looked at me and thought: I wanna be friend zoned by her.' She pauses with curiosity and an amused smile. 'Did you?'

It's easier to tell the truth when she thinks about how she's probably about to die."

"This is it. This is all she's got.

The truth is that Scout has never known how not to friend zone everyone who ever hoped for a little bit more from her. This is a girl who knows how to be wanted, but who doesn't know what wanting means. It's not stupidity, just naivety and the self-preservation instincts of her innocence. She knows she's always been too pretty for her own good and that people think things when they look at her, she knows a hand reaching out to grip her waist is an attempt to pull her closer, and she knows that there's something about skin that makes people... something. What comes next has only ever been her secret confusion as she made excuses and slipped away like fog through the world's fingers.

It was easy to close her eyes and smile, spinning in circles around bonfires and laughing into the shoulders of a crowd that passed her along as if maybe she'd decide she fit within someone's embrace if only enough people tried. Sooner or later one would feel just right. Countless eyes would watch as she danced, thinking look at her, look at that girl, I'd sure like to —

Something."

"Pulling away from her, Justice doesn't look as Scout stops fighting her tears and lets them fall wild and free. She's finally starting to figure out what happens next. 'O-once,' she whispers shakily, 'once upon a t-t-time —' Something is what happens next. Stubbornness keeps her eyes open as he swings his axe at her and she knows she couldn't avoid this even if she tried, so she stands there and watches the blade, watches his face as she cries out when the weapon bites into her hip and Justice knocks her off her feet all over again. It's not that she's given up because she only has one leg or she'd have died in the bloodbath the moment her foot was broken. It's that she doesn't want to run away. She wants to be here. She wants.

Speaking of fairytales, Scout falls for Justice and he catches her.

Sword clattering away, the only thing holding her up now is the arm that reaches out and pulls her to him. Exhaling a heavy breath of relief against his chest, he is warm and soft and, unlike the ground or other people's expectations of a Fray, he isn't made of stone. 'There was a,' the trembling in her breath tries and fails to be laughter, 'a fair maiden, the fair-fairest maiden in all the land... like sooo pretty. There's no way y-you've ever,' she turns her face into his shoulder, hiding all the wounds and new scars marring her, 'ever seen a girl this pretty.' Maybe it's because she's smaller than she used to be now that some of her limbs have been cut away, but it turns out she fits into someone else's arms just fine. 'There's th-this prince too. Nice hair. He's okay, I guess... or... or he's gonna be.' This isn't what she thought she'd find in the dark, but this is it. This is all she's got."

- scout krigel, district four female [ L△LIA ] in merchants of soul


"He'd rather roll around in a pile of sea urchins than move another inch.

But move he must, because the figure in front of him is not the one he's looking for.

'So, does the Devil own your soul? Is that how you're still breathing?'

The question is punctuated by the heavy heft of a warhammer — swung slowly enough that even one-legged, Roger sidesteps the strike without issue.

'The devil's made it pretty clear that she wants nothing to do with me.' Or that she wants me piece by piece.

He casts an eye towards the acid lake, wondering if Davy Jones is still the sailor's devil this many miles from the sea. A pond is not an ocean, and whatever's filling it certainly isn't water — but Roger has been cut down to half a pirate, anyhow, so perhaps it's close enough for him.

'Your hand's probably redder than mine, Nine. The only thing I've done to deserve this was sign myself up.' It was true — Roger hadn't killed so much as a mutt in the week he's spent getting hacked to pieces.

Scout Krigel, a small voice in the back of his head reminds him. You killed Scout Krigel.

No, he hadn't — he'd just kept her from getting saved. Scout Krigel still breathes.

A cannon fires in the distance.

He hopes."

"And she'd made him the cloak that was slung over his stump, had delivered the final blows to the beasts that hounded them, had made an end of the girl from Five for harming him.

When he was a little boy, Roger Strangways-Teach had pictured himself as a hero, a giantslayer, a valiant knight — even a victor, from time to time. It came as no surprise when, at seven, he found an idol in Fitz Ripley.

But the stammering boy from District Nine is anyone but Stark Harper. Atlas White lacked the malice. He didn't deserve to drown in his own blood before he fell face first in the water. Roger would be no hero for giving him to Davy Jones.

And even though the pirate had volunteered to save a girl, he'd done it for the wrong one.

'You have plenty of time to catch up, Four. Keep on going, your hands are already turning red.'

'Hand,' he corrects. 'Your Fray boy saw to that.'

He could never be a Fitz Ripley."

"His forehead is collateral damage, a curtain of crimson covering his eyes, spilling down his face. Everything runs red. Even the false diamonds that decorate his beard have turned to rubies.

'It's funny isn't it?'

The helm of his cloak tumbles to the ground, red and ruined. It's funny how Scout Krigel keeps saving his life, even after they've parted.

'You kill me and then, you become me. A tribute with innocent lives on his shoulders.'

He's already carried one innocent life on his back. Butchered and broken, there is no room for a second. Roger Strangways-Teach could cut down every other tribute in this godforsaken hellhole and he wouldn't feel half as guilty as he does for every scratch on Scout's body. He's turned it over and over and over in his head.

He had good intentions when he signed himself up for the Games. To keep his sister safe, keep her from volunteering on her own. Hell, that other boy — what had his name been? — even got to keep out of this pit. Roger can't bring himself to feel good about it.

'My namesake bore the weight of the world- can you?'

No. He's already been crushed under the weight of one little girl."

"As if the second someone from District Four picks up a sword, a spear, a glaive, they suddenly become something reprehensible.

But when Atlas White hefts his hammer at a girl who hasn't harmed him, it is somehow forgivable. Because he isn't from a place where children are taught how to aim true.

The pirate's honor is a subject he doesn't plan to address — not here. By his count, Roger has anywhere between two minutes and two days left in this hell, and his grey integrity is nuanced enough to demand a lifetime of nights curled up in a tallbacked armchair, lights off, four fingers curled around the neck of a bottle of rum. He isn't about to tease out the specifics of his dignity with a bloodstained boy whose first words to Roger were accusing him of being in league with the devil.

'I don't care,' he whispers. And it's true that he doesn't. Roger Strangways-Teach has always been bad at putting stock in the opinions of strangers, and he has no reason to listen to feedback from the boy who's three wounds in debt to him."

"'I don't care,' he repeats, more firmly this time. More resolute. After a lifetime spent mediating middle-grounds between his ever-warring family, friends, crewmates, blunt honestly is liberating. He doesn't care what happens to Atlas White after he dies. Doesn't care what happens to Roger Strangways-Teach after he dies. Nothing, probably. Nothing sounds like sweet release after the battering he's taken.

"Or will all I ever amount to is another notch in the belt of a detestable man?"

'Don't know.' Atlas's hammer is slower and heavier with every swing. Roger leans into the staff of his glaive and lets the heavy weapon whistle past him. 'I don't know you well enough to make that judgement.'

He softens a little. 'But that would be sad for you.'"

"'I'll wear it then, for what it's worth to you. Til the day I die.' His teeth are tinted red when he smiles, a chuckle — soft, but genuine — tumbles out. 'Tomorrow, probably.'

His mustache meets his beard again, lips turning downward as he sobers. He doesn't care — doesn't care what Atlas White thinks of him, doesn't care what the boy thinks of himself — but it is a small thing. Roger's never killed a man before. He may be no valiant little tailor, but it may not be the worst idea to etch one in seven blows into his belt. Not as a point of pride, but as a reminder — the one souvenir of his time in this arena that he has control over. 'But I will.'

Like every morning that's come before this one, Roger will still wake up surprised that he hasn't died in the night. (Or, whatever passes for night down here.) Assuming he makes it to sleep (or whatever passes for sleep down here.)

'When I die, that is the end of me, the end of my suffering. It should never be the living who pity the dead.' Roger smiles again, familiar with the sentiment. He's spent the last several days wondering why he hasn't died yet — wishing not here, not here all the while.

'Pity me, then?' he requests. The pirate isn't sure why. 'When it's time.'

The hammer falls.

Like a gavel on a sounding block, the gem-encrusted steel hits his five toes, sentencing him guilty! Roger drops with it, a mournful howl escaping his throat."

- roger strangways-teach, district four male [ aya ] in legends never die


"They say it’s painless.

After you die. When you’re “moving on”.

And as I stand there frozen with my mouth wide open staring down at Achilles’ body, broken and covered in blood, I can only hope that they’re right.

I don’t understand it, why I’m still here. It should be Percy, Petra, or Achilles. I was always the weakest, and I still am, even in their death.

I am not supposed to be here.

I am the girl who was glass, the girl who came here to die.

But now I am the girl made of steel. I am the girl who is all alone.

I have no one left. All that surrounds me is silence and death.

There is no one for me here. There is no one left for me at home. There is no one. And sometimes in my darkest dreams I wish death upon myself. Because at least I know in death I will not be alone, there will be someone waiting for me.

I know that in death I will no longer be in pain."

"Red.

It used to be the color of pretty flowers. The color of sunsets.

The things in Six that I would so delicately paint. The things that gave me a reason to live.

Now I see it everywhere. Now it means death.

Blood. It surrounds me on all sides. Bubbling in pools on each side, covering the ground around me, covering me. It seems as if the blood stains in my clothes will never come out, and that the blood on my skin is now tattooed. Marks of what I have done.

Marks of my pain.

They will never leave me.

No matter how hard I try."

"'I’m not sure what to believe anymore.'

And before I have to even breath, excruciating pain fills my body. I fall onto my side and no matter how hard I try to be strong a scream escapes me. Blood pours out and I see my foot a few feet away. I quickly turn my head, because I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get up if I look at it much longer. My eyes water but I hold back my tears. I finally reach for my weapon. I use my spear to help myself up slowly, balancing on it once I’m upright. I look at him and give a gentle a smile.

'Tell me Machaon, is it worth it? Is it really worth it?'

Because I’m not sure if it is. There’s nothing here. And I’m not sure if there will be anything at home. My fingers tighten around my spear.

'All I know for sure is the God I pray to stopped listening to me long ago.'"

"I have lost myself. And I’m not sure if anyone could find me.

I’m not sure if I’ll be able to find me.

'Nobody. I’m responsible for saving myself and that’s it,'

I can’t help but laugh at him.

'Good luck with that. Nobody can do it alone, no matter how hard they try,'

My mind instantly flashes to Petra, Percy, and Achilles. How utterly useless I was. How they managed to save me. How I would not be here without them. How I would be dead now, if it wasn’t for them.

Maybe I’d be better off that way.

His sword carves its way into my stomach, but I do not cry out. This time I just whimper. The pain is becoming unbearable, I’m not sure how much more I can take. My shirt is now in pieces and it’s not the violet it once was. It is red. Like everything else here. I push my hair behind my remaining ear. I stand a little taller, hold my head a little higher.

'You know, it doesn’t really matter. As long as you can somehow be happy.'"

"I’m not sure if I’ve ever been love. I’m not sure if I even truly know what it means.

To be in love. They say it’s this feeling you get, and you feel unmeasurable joy. They say you just know. That you don’t have to think about it. Your fingers tingle and you feel like your whole world is spinning. My heart longs to feel like that, but I don’t think it ever has.

I think back to when I still had a family. When me and mom and dad would be together. I realize that is a different love. A love that was still ripped away from me. Taken when I was so young, so young that I can barely remember.

And then there’s the feeling I get when I’m drawing. But I haven’t drawn in a long time. Not here, not at home. Not since Jequirity, not since Amerika. Never again.

I have no reason to. I begin to realize as I stand here, my blood pooling, pulse weakening, that I will never be in love.

I will never be happy.

I have no chance."

"Normally I would scream in frustration with how little damage I have done-

but I am too tired to care.

This place has done things to me that I have never thought possible. I came here to die, but the moment I saw the slightest bit of home, I clung to it. I did not think that I would still be here. And now I wish that I never had gotten here. I was meant to die long ago. It was supposed to be Percy, or Petra, or Achilles. Not me.

I was supposed to be dead long ago. I have nothing to back to.

There is nothing left for me. I did this to myself.

'Where do you think home is?'

And his sword cuts into me again. I flinch back from the pain, but I do not scream. There is no point. His blow, though weak, almost takes me to my knees. I can no longer do this.

I am no more. I am dying.

'I’m not sure. All I know is that it is anywhere but here,'"

- lucrezia eckhart, district six female [ gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ ] in all that you will ever be


"I shiver despite the scorching heat in this hell. I shake and cry throughout the night. I flinch and tear up at every sound created. My mind creates the illusion of the voices of my dead friends whispering inside my ear. Ren taunting me that I failed her, Travers screaming at me that I was a weakling, and Em, oh Emmery. Even at the slightest thought of my friend I want to curl up and cry.

All I could hear of her was her body hitting the ground over, and over, and over again. I remember screaming in outrage as I swung at the girl from two, killing her. I am no longer human, I am just a ghost of something that once was human.

My hair is a frenzy, mixed with blood and sweat and other substances that I have picked up in this arena. My eyes are bloodshot and wide open from the restless night in the arena. I am all alone, my mind withering into despair."

"That was when I ran into Daniel, and at first I want to hug him and cry, seeing a familiar face. Then I hear the voices of Ren, Travers, and Emmery whispering to me. He wants to kill you, don't let him. Live for us.

So I look up at my friendenemy, and with tears in my eyes I whisper, 'I'm sorry.' Then I swing."

"This boy is my one piece of home left, and I am attacking it, trying to squash that piece of home I have. I shiver as I feel his axe slice me and I hear the symphony of voices screaming at me again.

Don't show your pain.

Don't show your emotions.

Don't show your weakness.

No, I can't let my weakness show. If I let it show, even for a split second the rest of the horrers that lay down here will be pouncing on me in the blink of an eye, and I need to go home. When I saw Emmery slashed down by Scout, someone I had thought as helpful when we were taking down a dragon together, I vowed to live, but not for me. I couldn't care less if I only had to live for me.

No, I have to live for them."

"I need to make sure that Ren, and Travers, and Em, and everyone else here are remembered, and not just remembered in sparkling television screens or the glittery words from Caesar Flickerman. I need to make sure they are remembered for who they are, and who really hurt them this bad.

That is why, with a heavy shattered heart, I hold back a tear, and slash again at Dan, not saying a word and instead remaining silent. Not the silence I had when I first came to the capitol from shyness. This is the silence from my resolve to make sure that I live for my friends."

"Last night, when I was hearing the voices of the lost ones, gifts came to me. One of those, was a flower crown. And so this morning, I carefuLly slipped my new ballet shoes on along with my flower crown. It befitted a girl with the name of Iris. I had been named after the flower, the elegant gracefulness of it was what I reminded my parents of when I was born, or at least that is what they told me.

Now, I am no longer elegant and graceful, and instead my eyes are hard and battle worn, my hair is clumped together with blood, and like all others here I stink like hell. One because I am in hell. Two because all teenagers sweat a lot and no one recieved deodorant in the bloodbath. The game makers should start putting some in there."

"Anyways, the voices continue to whisper in my head, the flowery petals seeming to keep them trapped in there. I keep holding back my tears, showing no weakness. Evidently, Daniel adopted my same train of thought.

This means he is really trying to kill me just as I am trying to do the same to him.

It makes me cringe, the thought of killing someone else, but I need to make sure that I stay alive. I need to make sure that I keep the memory alive, and I will do the same for Daniel. I won't let district seven, or anyone forget him either.

Then, trying to be the queen the voices in my head are urging me to be, I gently push my flower crown into position, and strike again."

- iris flower-oak, district seven female [ pup ] in back to the trees away from the fire


"If Daniel were to be honest, he believed that she wanted to stay as far away from him as she can. He believed that nobody wanted anything. Hell, he's very comfortable with the idea. He was alone, and nobody wanted to fix that. Even if they wanted to, at what cost? They'd be talking to the dead, whispering to the corpses. It's almost unfortunate that people have to face that. But, that's how this world seems to tell it's tale. With the constant speech to the dead, and they have yet to know where they're going to end up. The night was his only way to think to himself, but now that they're gone, he's left to think for himself.

During the night, a ghost similar to the one he had met on day two had escaped from the walls in its soft and warm demeanor. It bared gifts for him, a stuffed heart and a notebook filled to the brim with music notes and ideas. It was Hypatia’s. Her last story her last legacy in this world she kept. It was then that he knew what he must do. Daniel thumbed through the pages, some of them torn out and left for the wind to carry them away."

"He had to win. Gain redemption for Natalie, Hypatia and Minos. He had to win for Blanche and Stella and Sue. Daniel had to win for anyone, someone in his life. Daniel had to win for himself, to show that he was someone.

So he went to rest, dusted by the determination that danced him. In the morning he met the sunrise, and gathered his barely audible thoughts in unity. The person who he'd face now was unknown, and his only prayer was that it wasn't Iris.

It's unfortunate that he hadn't learned there is no god after yesterday's events.

There, in the flesh was his district partner. Iris Flower-Oak. His only piece of home, his very last hint of the place he grew up in. Her words were quick, forced almost.

'I’m sorry.'

When he heard her apology, it was neglected by him. 'We both want to go back home, you don't need to be sorry.'

Daniel's story had come to it's rising action, so let it be heard; let it be told. In the burning passion to stay alive, he swung at her. He was sorry for attacking, but he wasn't sorry for trying to return home.

Besides, they volunteered to go through this pain, and the pain was only one thing of thousands they'll have to break free of."

"Iris was broken. He could see that in her eyes, the worried and sad expression that painted upon them. She would slip in and out of the presentation of her emotion for many reasons it seemed, though we both knew why there was little to no emotion being shown. Showing emotion in a fight like this was like a weakness. It wore them down and gave them less of a want or need to keep fighting. It would make the fight slow down and start to drown out, similar like the life that filled the both of them."

"Daniel wanted to just drop everything and walk away because of the fact he was fighting her. He didn't want to kill her and she sure as hell probably didn't want to kill him, but she kept fighting. She was a warrior in a sort,never giving up with what they wanted to do until they finished it. It was almost inspiring in a way. That is, it was until he realized that her goal was to kill him. She never spoke, just like him, and had swung at him causing another scarlet red river get torn open and overflowing to whatever end that it seemed to want to.

But, every good soldier never walked away from their fight. No matter how hard it was to fight them in the first place. If it was home, and they were fighting to preserve their own lives, Daniel would think ‘hell, go for it’.

So, he didn't ask away. He wanted to be a soldier, a fighter a warrior. The axe already wasn't going to do that well, so he figured going to the next weapon he found useful. He clasped his hand around the hilt of the spiked blunt and knew that he couldn't give up."

"These were the few things that he learned about life;
[ one ] life was something people take for granted. someone may think that they'll never die anytime soon or that someone else will never die soon, but they never realize how fast it'll change from that.
[ two ] the sun was something that people often didn't like when it was burning hot and they had no cloud in sight, but without it, life seems almost boring in a way without the light that it gives.
[ three ] everyone's scared to die. it can be blatantly obvious or it can be the slightest of things.
[ four ] family is something you should treasure, because you never know when -if- you're going to see them again.
[ five ] rain is a beautiful piece of art and people often mistake it as something sad or gloomy.
[ six ] love never ends, and love never shows until the other part of that love ends.


[ seven, a personal note ]
sometimes, you need to see the precious things in life like a friend or someone that cares about you.

because you never know when you're going to die.

[ eight ]
you can never try too much.

so, in his fleeting moments of life, he tried to preserve it with one last swing."

"He had a reason of his own that people didn't know; which was having a kid of his own who might not live with a father. It wasn't long before he spoke to her in his irritated and weak voice.

'You say that like you're alone. Like you're the only one who has a reason to fight for home that other people don't understand,' he was obviously flustered by how bad he was losing the fight, but he didn't stop his speech. 'I can assure you on a personal level that you're not alone.'

She wasn't alone in the pitiful of an excuse she had made. But Daniel, not being alone in the misunderstood, was alone. After all, how else did he expect to keep fighting? If he weren't alone, he'd be scared that whoever was alive of his friends was dead at every cannon fire.

He was already prepared for what it would've been like if he survived, but at the current rate of things, he was soon to be wiped away and out of this fight."

- daniel tate, district seven male [ thompson harvard - d2b - arc ] in back to the trees away from the fire


"There was a moment of drawn breaths and stopped hearts. Natalie locked eyes with him and they both felt the same level of desperation, made evident in the fearful but determined glint in their worn gazes. He could see all of Eight standing behind the mighty seamstress; the Square in all its grey glory, the factory workers and their bundled cloths, and lines of parents praying for a victor who could hold her own. If fate was just, she would win long before he stood a chance.

Fate was not just.

The pretty gold of her hair erupted into red and silver. A sickening crack split the bones of her skull like an egg, and an icy coil wrapped around his throat. Eyes wide and jaw slack, he watched her violently drop into pooling blood, voice snatched by every sensation of dread and disbelief in his body. A cannon confirmed that it wasn’t a trick of the eyes – Natalie, the seamstress with a lion’s heart, was dead.

He stood frozen in time, weapon dangling loosely from his fingers."

"Everything was fucked up.

The air felt poisonous, a rancid stench staining the inside of his nose until it fogged the innards of his mind. They were surrounded by oceans of blood that bubbled like water in a pot, and they hissed louder and louder with every step. With one wrong movement either of them could stumble into these pools and melt their own skin off. He could think of no death more horrifying, but the steel glinting in their hands warded off such a foolish thought. They would tear into each other, they would bleed. I could die here. Nothing would prepare him for that agony."

"He claimed not to believe in a God, and he wasn’t sure the girl understood why. 'But then, who will save you?'

'Nobody.'

Justice, Atlas, luck – he had relied on them for so long, and he credited his beating heart to their efforts. Without them, he would’ve died with Stevie among the fire. He would’ve burned to ashes and the Capitol would’ve sent him back in a jar instead of a casket. There was nothing else here to save him but himself. What would a God save him for? What was his life worth? Not more than Natalie’s, or Stevie’s, or Petra’s, or Lucia’s. He had determined that Petra’s life was worth less than his own when he butchered her, but he didn’t really believe that. He was simply performing what was necessary to survive. He knew damn well there was no supreme being to rely on."

"He painted a red smile across her abdomen and blood dribbled out to match their grim surroundings. Jagged rocks threatened them from above and sizzling pools of what he hoped wasn’t human blood hissed everywhere else. The air was hot, humid, and suffocating, burning the odor of iron into his brain. It was organic yet poisonous, a stench that reminded him of deaths in the past and warned him of the deaths to come. He was familiar with death’s shadow, the way it washed the color from someone’s skin and erased the glimmer of livelihood in their eyes. He was familiar with death’s whisper, the way it stole the breath out of someone’s lungs. Now he was familiar with death’s perfume, the iron of oozing blood and putrid, dying flesh.

A pyramid of pale faces were stacked in his conscience. They were all ages, sizes, and genders, most of them taken by sickness. Lucia’s powder blue eyes were the first to stare back at him, the first death he had seen up close and personal. At the time, it seemed that was the worst of it. The love of his life going limp was what left him quiet and bitter for so many years, and now he was having trouble imagining what she looked like. Now it was Percy’s gaping chest and Stevie’s eyes socket staring through him. Now it was the desperation in Petra’s eyes and the determined expression on Natalie’s face that haunted him where he stood. It was their corpses he remembered the strongest."

"'I was happy until I watched my girlfriend die,' he replied, and suddenly he was back in the training center again with Stevie, Atlas, and Justice. Their eyes bore into him as he repeated those dreaded words of his past during a light-hearted game. Leave it to himself and Atlas to make everything grim. 'Now I can’t even tell you what I’m fighting for anymore, because it’s not happiness.'

It was life.

'Maybe there’s still hope for…something.'

And again, he tried to kill her. It would shatter any hope she had left of finding happiness, and he had become a villain for favoring his own life.

Or maybe I’m just fucking human."

"His heart sank because this wasn’t the first time he heard this plea. Patients withering away in their beds like flowers in winter would tug his sleeve and beg him for a sweet release. They were dying anyway, they would always say. Just get it over with. Help me. I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want them to watch me suffer. Just pull the plug. Give me a bottle of pills.

It didn’t hurt any less hearing it now. 'I…I want to go home,' she said, and he wondered what twisted part of her mind imagined death as a home. Or did she believe that a white heaven awaited her? Freedom from hell, a life after life. People wanted to believe there was a paradise after all of this. A place where people didn’t cry, people didn’t bleed, and peace was absolute. A fucking fantasy world, he called it."

- machaon amador, district eight male [ Python ] in all that you will ever be


"So I run. Like the coward I am. I run into the vast darkness until my friend's footsteps are little more than a memory to hold close to an aching heart. I won't ever see them again. Not like this, anyway. Perhaps their silhouettes will be painted into the sky some night- perhaps it will be me looking down at them from that heavenly perch.

I wander until the soles of my feet ache and the stitches upon my broken body throb. And then I sit upon the shore of the acid lake, relieved to find the bodies have been taken away. I'm so fucking tired. The world around me spins and tonight, when I sleep, there will be no man to keep watch. I could wake with a blade through my throat and not even a word to udder in protest.

For the first time since entering the arena, I feel as alone as I did in nine. Sat in an alley with a needle upon my lap, head slumped forward as the world turns into nothing beneath my finger tips. Sat in some random chair in some random house, bottle slipping from between slack fingers and a knife strapped to my hip. Sat in an arena with blood caked to my clothes and not even the heartbeat of another to keep me company. They are all agonizing types lonely, they are everything I have ever known."

"The pain is near unbearable- like nothing I have ever felt before.

Somehow, it's more potent when I am left alone.

If Machaon, if Justice were here there would be a goddamn reason to smile through the throbbing of my skull- to keep on trying for them but I don't care enough now. There's no one to stay strong for and so I spiral, into crimson ink that tastes too much like rotten pennies.

Four is right, there is blood on my hands- enough to turn a river red. There are hopes and dreams- spirits stuck to edges of my hammer. Their screams are turning me inside out, trapping me within my own skull and all I want is to scream.

They sew my lips together.

I never had the right to call myself a good person. "

"'Have you watched your district partner's face light up the sky? Have you lost her yet?' As hard as I try to keep my voice from breaking, I have already shattered. Roger started a chain reaction. Fractures crawl up the apples of my cheeks, down my spine and the pain is near intoxicating. It's all I can think about. All I can bear. My hands are shaking. I can't stop them. I don't try.

'Face it, Roger.' I smile and it splits my face in two. 'No one makes it out of this arena a human. No victor has ever been anything but a monster and a murderer.' I heave my hammer onto my shoulders, holding myself together best I can. And that's not very well. Machaon is a monster. Justice is a monster. It's okay. I never knew them as anything else.

Natalie was a monster. Minos was a monster. There is nothing holy left about us children sat on our hind legs, mouth hung open and ready for scraps to be thrown off the edge of Snow's empire."

"In hindsight, I never stood a chance. Not to defeat him, nor to win these games. The guilt of a thousand lives upon my shoulders would drive me mad before the thorned crown even kissed my skull. I have killed. A man in nine and a girl in this arena. They are here, even now, desperate to drag me right to hell.

'Tell me something.' Another iron tear crawls down my cheek, numbing the pain of his glaive against my throat. 'Will I see her again?' Percy Delacroix, bathed in as many sins as I yet a thousand times stronger. 'When I die, do you think I'll get to see the little girl I couldn't save?' Because she died in my arms, begging for a warmth I could not give her. Her blood is still caked to my shirt, her words to my heart.

It should have been me, in the blood bath. It should have been me who took the killing blow.

'Or will all I ever amount to is another notch in the belt of a detestable man?'"

"It's not a heart that I have grown upon my sleeve, I cannot feel it's beating. It's not a soul, nor the humanity I have lost within this arena suddenly returned. Roger is Death, finally upon me, he is blades shoved through weakened skin. He is my judge, my jury and my executioner. Still, I hesitate.

He wouldn't. Machaon wouldn't. Justice wouldn't. They are men meant to survive, built to last with steel for hearts and I here I stand, soul of ice melting within the shallows of this acid lake.

I didn't mean to kill the girl. I didn't mean do shove my hammer through her skull and yet when she fell all I could feel was relief. That is was her and not Justice. That is was her and not me. Every life I have taken for my own sake was in vain.

Because I hesitate."

"'Promise?' The words are soft, shattering in this blood-stained atmosphere. They crawl down my back like blood, hot and sticky and staining my skin a pale shade of grey. I don't even know if he heard them.

Roger will not die- not today. Perhaps not tomorrow or the day after that. He has what it takes to survive, a soul unburdened by guilt and enough sense not to hesitate to strike a man who killed him. The final page of my story has turned, taking my blood and breath with it. There are still black words to scrawl upon his yellowed parchments.

Petra, Natalie- the souls which I have aided in taking will not welcome me. Not where I'm going. If there was such a thing as Heaven a man like me would be allowed nowhere near it. Not when sin is ink beneath the surface of my skin- gruesome and beautiful and all too hard to ignore.

But to lay down my weapon is to spit on their graves. To tell them that their murder was not a means to an end, an attempt to make it home, but it was for no other reason than to draw the blood of the innocent. And even I am not so much of a monster.

No matter how inhumane I might have become."

- atlas white, district nine male [ [nyte] ] in legends never die