Pain Redefined (Deja vs Jackson Day3)

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Last night felt terrible. I didn't have as much nightmares, but I also got less sleep. At least, my sleep wasn't as good. I felt like complete shit. It took forever to fall asleep, and then I woke up as soon as I actually got to sleep. I am thirsty as hell, and I haven't eaten in a while. I just have to push through it. I have to survive. I need to get water soon. I have to do that. Just need to make sure I find some. Stupid bloody wherever the hell I was didn't have any. Better get some wherever I am.

I don't know how far I walked last night, but I know I made it into a new zone. It's definitely different. The rocks make me feel puny. The more I look up, the more I think something's going to fall on top of me as well. From a big, wide hole to a narrow, skinny hole. Great. At least I'm not claustrophobic. Now does it have water somewhere? Might as well start looking. No use in just standing in one place.

Not entirely sure which way to go, I decide to go away from my old destination. Screw that place. I really hope where I'm going has no more monkeys. Luckily, the sides didn't get closer to each other. Not like they would move. Can the Gamemakers make them move? Holy shit, please don't let them do that. I really don't want to be crushed to death. I don't even want to imagine it. Nope. Just keep walking. Focus on finding water. Just go.

I don't know how long I've been walking for before I finally take a break. I feel slightly dizzy, and my head feels as though it's a balloon: light. Take a break, Jackson. You need one. Don't slip and hit your head somewhere. Don't die too early. Only one person died yesterday. Make it to at least the top 10, not the top 18. Okay? You got this. Shit. What's that? Movement ahead of me catches my attention. Is that another mutt? Bloody hell. Why must I have to deal with two mutts in a row? At least it's not another tribute. I'd rather kill mutts than tribs. "DIE, YOU MONSTER!" I pull a javelin out of my bag and chuck it as hard as I can at what I have to kill.

tKqVvmJRjavelin
15128 -- SPEAR IN STOMACH -- 9.5 damagejavelin

[*]

Deja Hatcher
Thirteen | Female | District 3

I'm lost. Surrounded by the trees that make me feel safe. An odd such feeling to feel saftey from something that isn't truely alive. They breath in my carbon dioxide in exchance for their oxygen. They provide me shade and I provide them with company. The trees and I are becoming one but for as long as I have traveled, I don't see much difference in where I am going. "Circles." I state matter of factly as I finally rest my back against a large. I've come farther up the hillside of the moutains, to the point where it started to bend, as I saw the other day. I am not going further away, but instead further into. Rocks litter the ground in which I walk and along the way, my crutches hitch a few times, threatening to dislodge me from my only walking apparatuses. I keep walking though, through the mess of trees and from here to there. The lights deminish quickly, leaving me to walk in the dark but out of fear, I keep moving hoping and praying that I don't meet a pig again or worse. "Where do I go?" I beg, looking up to the sky. I follow what looks like looming storm clouds and eventually, I find somewhere to stop. I snuggle up against something, pray for safety and then sleep. Morning comes, and my surroundings have changed dramatically. No longer surrounded by trees and plans, but large surrounding blocks of stone. One way in. One way out and it's so tiny in comparison to my previous location. How did I get here? When did I take a wrong turn? I take my time walking since there is hardly any room to use my crutches without hitting the edges of the path, but I am fitting just snuggly. A turn up a head doesn't allow me any chance to see anyone or anything. Only that the sound of footsteps appear to my ears just moments before something happens. I barely have enough time to gather my weapon out of my bag. I drop the crutches, relying on my amazing balance to keep myself upright and then no sooner do I turn around, I hear the voice and my blood runs cold. Shocked, I just allow it to happen with very little deterence but I try to block the weapon. Instead, a low grunt of pain escapes my mouth as the javelin sinks deep within my stomach. The voice makes me follow the javelin's path to the thrower and there stands the one that actually dragged me out of the blood bath when he was barely even alive himself. "Ho... How could you?" I blame him, and my face distorts into a mess of pain as the spear is pulled out and away, allowing blood to soak through my shirt. "No... this.. Atticus. Please..." I mutter and grip tighter to the morning star that is the only thing receiving the messages of pain. I look at him, tears stinging to my eyes. "You... saved me. I almost trusted..." I grunt again with a sharp intake of pain and without even another thought, I realized that I had lowered my guard around him. He really was meaning to kill me. I fight against the agnoizing pain to seek revenge for him hurting me.

Deja Attacks jackson with her morning star - to defend herself against broken trusts
i0E47O|Wspiked blunt
14044 -- BROKEN RIGHT FOOT -- 6.5 damage
spiked blunt

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The javelin flies through the air and impales my target right in the stomach. Hell yeah! Would have been better if I could have killed it instantly. My small victory falls short as soon as what I thought was a mutt speaks. " Ho... How could you?" My blood turns to ice and I freeze up. Everything goes numb. It's... it's her. The girl from yesterday, the one I just saved. What do I do now?

She mumbles something under her breath, something that I highly doubt is important to me. I'm so sorry. "You... saved me. I almost trusted.." The words carry a heavy hit to my gut. A giant brick fell onto my chest as sadness rises up to it. All of a sudden, a pain in my foot appears alongside everything else. Damn, she must have attacked me. How'd I miss that? I guess I can't really say sorry, can I? It won't matter, but at least I can still try? Right?

I feel a tear slip down my cheek as I realized that I had betrayed someone I had just saved along with my foot being crushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you. I--I thought you where something else. I'm really sorry. And i know i probably can't do anything about it. But all I can say is sorry. I have to survive. I have to win. I know you have to as well, and I'm really sorry only one of us will fulfill our promise. I really didn't want this to happen. At least, not this soon. Maybe we'll see each other in another life." I feel a couple more tears be shed. Why do I feel so bad? I don't even know her name? I should at least introduce myself if anything else. "Oh, and I'm Jackson Samuels, male tribute of District 6. I am forever sorry this had to come down to this."I pull out another javelin to use as a spear this time, hoping to make this battle end quicker than it has to.

gPqYnMFGspear
3161 -- Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damagespear

[*]

Deja Hatcher
Thirteen | Female | District 3

He's eighteen years old, I remember that fact about him. I had to study their ages. I am the youngest tribute these games by three years. All of these tributes outrank me in so many ways. How is it really fair that someone like me is forced to battle this person. He's practically an adult. All I know, is that trust will never be built up again; ever. How can I when someone who pulled me out of danger, kept walking for miles to another location and down stone steps when he was on deaths door himself, saved my life. Only, he's not trying to save me this time. He's ready for vengence. Maybe, does he hate me for shooing him away when I told him to get lost? I got rid of him because I couldn't make sure he was safe and this is what I get in return. I was right. "I hate you..." I mutter as the spiked weapon goes down onto his foot with so much power that I can hear it breaking as the point of impact was made. I clench my jaw up. I hear him howl an apology. He thought I was something else. He's sorry? How can he be sorry? He threw the first stone. "You have to win?" Is all I can hear and repeat. He'd rather take on someone that's four years younger than him, without the needed skills or strength and claim a life without remorse? How can he sleep at night with that kind of conscious? Then again, I've not met many decent people who have clear thoughts at night. My past keeps boiling up. Those people were perfectly find injecting my body with poison, rendering me incapable of daily life. They were completely fine taking me far away from home and keeping me in dingy conditions and against the odds. I beat those odds though. I can beat these odds, too. "Oh, and I'm jackson samuels, male tribute of District 6. I am forever sorry this had to come down to this." My eyes grow big. I know what's coming next. Only, he won't know me. I will not tell him anything about myself. He'll have to find that out for himself and suffer for the rest of his life with only the look on my face of a victim of his treachery. "You'll meet me when I'm ready to die." A second javelin appears and I bite deep into my lower lip and try to dodge the edge of the spear. It makes contact, slicing a nice cut on my thigh while I hop away from him. It's a knee jerk reaction to start swinging the star in his direction. If he has no remorse, why should I?

Deja Attacks jackson with her morning star - for having no remorse.
6VLi6ztMspiked blunt
14115 -- DEEP GASH ON BACK OF HEAD -- 9.0 damage
spiked blunt

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My moral continues to plummet at alarming rates the more I continue to try to fight and survive. Ripred, out of everyone in the arena, it has to be her. But why? I'd face anyone else. Anyone, but her. She's so young. And I even saved her. I betrayed her. "You have to win?" I fight back more tears as I nod. I have to, for family. For my friend. There isn't any point in saying it out loud, because I know she has friends and family at home. Somebody she cares about. I might never know if she does as she hits the back of my head. I become dizzy as my eyes continue to water. KEEP THEM TEARS IN THERE, DAMMIT. DON'T YOU DARE CRY.

"You'll meet me when I'm ready to die." That's fair. I attacked her first. Why should I know who I should kill? Shut up. She has a right to remain quite. I think. Doesn't matter whether or not she does. She is her own person. Right now, she's someone in the way of winning, and sadly I need to kill her.

I stand up straighter, wiping away the wetness away from my eyes. I barely hit her last time, and I'm sure as hell not making that mistake. "If you win this fight, could you at least tell my family that I loved them, and that I wish I could have seen them again. Please do that for me, if nothing else." That's also assuming she'll survive this fight, and these games as a whole. I really hope she does if she does beat me. I lunge at her again, doing my best to get a critical hit on her. "Good luck." Please do some good.

|1rqHPZBspear
3043 -- Deep Gash on Stomach -- 9.0 damagespear

[*]

Deja Hatcher
Thirteen | Female | District 3

Fearfully, I attack back, more forcefully than ever. My morning star swings harshly against the back of his head. I felt the connection and then I can see the quick reaction from him. He's biting back tears and its so evident by the look on his face. He's in pain, but he should have thought about that before he launched his first attack without realizing who was on the receiving end. What's done is done. I've done enough to him for this swing and hopefully to show him that I mean what I need. Maybe now, he'll stop messing with me? "If you win this fight, could you at least tell my family..." Tell them what? That you fought a brave fight against someone you betrayed? Someone that you probably considered an ally even though I didn't. You had alternate plans when you pulled me from the wreckage of blood and broken bones. You already had this whole thing planned out, I'm sure. Followed me for a day to see where I would end up. How is it that you met up with me at this exact moment? "Sure. Only if you do the same for me. Tell my brother, Quincey, that I never meant to leave him alone. Tell him that It was not my fault before. It's not my fault now. My blood will be on your hands. Do you really want.." My words get cut off by a call of good luck right before he jabs his javelin straight toward my stomach again, and then the deep gash meshes with where he stabbed me only minutes ago. My life blood has decided to leave me, making me feel faint. My head swimming with confusion and my heart driving itself against my ribs. "Jackson. Stop! Please..." I finally beg him, looking at him with something that I would consider pleading although my hands still grip the handle of the star. I hop once in his direction, acting as if I were to fall over and I make a beeline once again for him. He's not going to give up but neither am I. It's a fight to the death and one of us will go back home today. I can only hope, that Camille won't have to see me go home so soon despite her wanting me home as soon as possible. "Back atcha."

Deja Attacks jackson with her morning star - for she's not giving up just yet.
fBV3x84Pspiked blunt
14078 -- DEEP GASH ON RIGHT FOREARM -- 8.0 damage
spiked blunt

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Right before impaling her once again, she began talking about someone she has back home. So you'll tell me who you care about, but not who you are? That makes no sense. Then again, nothing in this arena makes sense. At least she has somebody back home. Hopefully I'l remember whatever she just said. Regardless of what makes sense, I know that I will tell Quincey once I win. If I win.I won't let you down.

The next thing that comes out of her mouth stuns me a little. "Jackson. Stop! Please..." With tears still being fought back, I stare at her. What? She's pleading? Should I stop? Should I let her live? Her next action cancels out what I thought I might do as a sharp pain reaches into my right arm. Well, there goes that for letting her live. But maybe I should, though. This is all my fault anyways. I should never have attacked. But I did. What happened to surviving?

I know that I'm going to have to make a quick decision one that I had already thought I made. I'm going to either have to kill or be killed. I didn't realize how hard it would be until know. You just had to beg, didn't you? I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you'll have to leave Quincey. Or kill me. Not like you'd feel bad anyways for killing me. You'd probably feel great killing me. I'm sorry. I nod at her final remark before attacking her again. Maybe it'll be better to kill than to be killed. I get to have a full life, right? I'll get to live. Not knowing if that was inspiration or fear, but I use it to try to power my next attack.

nnF0No6Hspear
3114 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damagespear

[*]

Deja Hatcher
Thirteen | Female | District 3

Those eyes of my potential murderer tears through my soul. The crooked part of his nose stares me down with his height compared to mine. He stops momentarily when I beg him to. I try to get him distracted enough that he puts his guard down just like I did when he pulled me out of the first moments in this hell. I should never have given him that chance but I may have found a way through his weak spots. It played in my favor over a year ago. It took a while to get the desired results, but I don't have days or weeks to get through to his weaknesses. I have moments. Seconds. A mere blink of a eye before death could come knocking on my door. I"m not about to let him decide when I die because it's not right. I can't let others make these decisions for me. I will not let him win just because he thinks he wants to. Problem with that is, is that I'm the only one who thinks that way. It's written all over his face right before he moves again. He has a distinct movement to his body right before he decides to attack. He's a thoughtful individual much differnet than anyone else I have seen in the arena. He thinks before he hits. He contemplates the actiosn that he will respond to. Even if it's only seconds between each hit, he takes that time to think all the things through. So, when he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, it's noticable when he moves his right elbow up. His muscles tense up in his neck. His eyes become darker in hue. He's really trying to kill me. And he goes for me again. I put my hand up to block the onslaught of his attack, thankful that the only thing he had access to was my arm. New blood seeps through the cut. The skin divided in two. I've felt worse than this and I would merely consider it a simple papercut. Sure it burns, but it hurts worse coming from him. I can't explain why. His deceit is almost as bad as my brothers hatred when I finally was found and rescued. How he deserted me. How he said he hated me for what happened to our parents. I had left him alone but he didn't realize it wasn't my fault. It was the Steins. They were the ones to snatch me from the people who loved me and caused their inevitable demise. Yet he blamed me. Now this guy, Jackson, was blaming me for being in his way. My lips purse together, pinching with nerves. "HOW DARE YOU?" I scream at him. "I just want to go home. I'm all my brother has. He only just forgave me for abandoning him. He is alone... again! This time, he knows I will be dead instead of looking for me for months, Jackson Samuels. Do you want to know why I am so afraid to tell you who I am? Huh?" I ready my weapon in my hands. The grip being iron around the hilt. It swings slowly, shaking almost as much as I feel my body is. "I was captured a year ago. I was taken into hell by someone I thought I could trust. You... you are no better than them. I have to live. I need to be there for my brother because when I was gone my parents died. I have no one else but him to live for. And you think you deserve to live. You think you deserve to go back home? Quincey deserves to have me back home. I can't do that to him again. If I have to hurt you to make sure I go home, I will Jackson Samuels. It's all I have to give him. Please don't make me feel like I don't deserve to go home..."

Deja Attacks jackson with her morning star - for her, it's personal.
Nfax5XrSspiked blunt
14024 -- BROKEN LEFT FEMUR -- 7.5 damage
spiked blunt

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I'm disappointed in my attack, barely doing any damage to her. No need to dwell on it. Maybe next time. That's what you get for getting distracted. Just focus more. Don't let her get into your head. I push my thoughts out of my head. I try not to feel bad for hurting her. I know what needs to happen for me to survive. Then pain hits up through my left leg. DAMMIT, THIS HURTS! HOW IS SHE DOING MORE DAMAGE TO ME THAN ME TO HER? This isn't right...

"HOW DARE YOU?" What? The screaming was completely unexpected and re-distracted me. "I just want to go home. I'm all my brother has." For whatever reason, that struck something in me. I feel anger surge into my body. "He only just forgave me for abandoning him. He is alone... again!' I stop listening to her after this statement as anger surges through me. Well, sorry for ditching your brother in the first place. Sorry for the loss.

I look back at her lips, noticing that they finally stopped moving. "I'm sorry for what happened with you and your brother, that he took forever to trust you again. That sucks. But do you know what? You aren't the only one who has had shit happen to them. I would have given anything to have one person who bloody cared about me, who'd look for me. But what did I get? I got told to shut up, to mold into society, and to just let things happen. I might have bloody died if it hadn't been for my friend at home. I'm not a perfect person. There's many thing I wish I didn't do, but I continue learning.I never meant to do those things to you. I just want to live. I'm sorry for your trust issues. I'm sorry that you nearly lost him. But do you know what? I have my own family to live for. I have my best friend at home. I wasn't supposed to be here, but look how well life listened?" I feel myself shaking now.

"I was so close to not having to deal with this bullshit. I was going to go off and start my own business. I SHOULDN'T HAVE REAPED. I was so close." I felt tears running down my cheeks. "I have my own reasons for surviving, you have yours. There would have been a moment when I would have let you kill me, but that's an old me. I have changed. You would never have known the pain I felt having to change." Not even my bloody family knows. "I have nothing else to say here." Please for the love of Ripred lend me the strength to kill her. I use my rage to hurl my javelin as hard and as fast as I can towards the unknown tribute. "It was nice knowing you, unknown tribute."

bUQZ1v4Njavelin
15056 -- SHALLOW CUT ON STOMACH -- 4.0 damagejavelin

[*]

Deja Hatcher
Thirteen | Female | District 3

A burning sensation takes over my throat. Lungs screaming for air as I feel my stomach tense up immensely with sharp knives taking over. How many times has he tried to gut me already? Why is he aiming for the same spot? Does he really want to kill me so much that he will continue to try to mangle my torso when he now knows that my place is back at the foster home with Camille and Quincey? Words spew from my mouth, releasing evidence of my backstory that only few know about. What I felt when I was gone. What happened in my life and I'm sure that Atticus hasn't even read my second letter to him. Four people know of my capture and I mean really know, but Jackson doesn't care. He spaces out. It's so evident by how his face flushes with anger and that snarl appears on his face. Jackson Samuels has just as much of a backstory as I do and now, his story is out. That's all I need to know. His life wasn't perfect either, but at least he wasn't drugged. At least he had the ability to go out and do for himself. "...I was so close to not having to deal with this bullshit. I was going to go off and start my own business... So, he had aspriations like I did. I wanted to dance forever. I wanted to share my passion with the moon and stars until I couldn't anymore and at this moment, I realize I will never dance again. Is there really anything left for me? If I were to live, and make it out of the arena, what could the capitol do for me? "I have nothing else to say here." My stare becomes a glare as he claims he has nothing more to confess to me. That my ears will no longer hear anything else from him other than just the sound of a grunt when he throws the javelin. I am nothing more to him than an obstacle in his way. And his final words was telling me that I am an unknown tribute. Numbess sinks into my mind. Unknown. I do not want to be an unknown tribute. I do not want to be forgotten. Thank ripred that Atticus will be my advocate. He will become by voice if I do not make it back home. Atticus... where are you? "No..." My stomach is already numb with pain, and what he adds to my many injuries is hardly enough to sacrifice myself and lay down so he can defeat me further, but I do collapse to my one knee, no longer able to hold myself up and willing. It takes everything I have to push myself up and latch onto my weapon. It's taken his legs out. Broken one, and mangled another. He has felt the bite from my weapon every single time and just as he wants, I will forever become unknown to him, but everyone else will remember my name. "Jackson..." I pause, grasping onto my stomach. "my name is..."

Deja Attacks jackson with her morning star - for her, it's time to let him know.
Th4PYaAAspiked blunt
14073 -- TWO BROKEN RIBS -- 7.5 damage
spiked blunt

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A small smirk appears slightly on my face as I watch as my last words hit her. I didn't realize how impactful they could have been, but I'm glad that they got to impact her. If I die, at least she'll remember me. But how many others will? I try to hold on to the anger I recently received, but the last thought recently pushed it all out. Bloody hell. I just had to be a happy camper. Well, at least people will be entertained by this, if anything.

"Jackson...my name is..."Another hit from her wakes me back up, this time with a painful blow to my ribs. I feel two of them snapping inside of me, like two twigs being broken in half. DAMMIT! HOW DOES SHE HIT SO BLOODY HARD? And fuck you. I guess I'll never figure out who you are. But does it matter? It'll only be harder for me to get over killing her. If I even get to kill her? I highly doubt I'll survive this, but I still have to try. Fuck. I'm going to die. NO. YOU WILL LIVE. YOU WILL SURVIVE.

My inspiring thoughts did nothing to help clear out what the depressing thoughts brought in. I realized that I have very little hope in surviving this fight. She bloody broke my foot, my leg, and two of my ribs. GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, JACKSON. YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE HERE. YOU WILL FIGHT. But what if I don't survive? THEN PUT UP A BLOODY GOOD SHOW! I clench my jaw as i reach for another spear. The pain from my ribs hurts more than I'm willing to admit, but I know I have to at least try. My mother didn't raise a quitter. I throw my final javelin in hopes it does something good for me. I'm so sorry everyone. I wish I could have made it back home. Please forgive me.

NRUU_|r5javelin
15194 -- SHALLOW CUT ON STOMACH -- 4.0 damagejavelin

[*]

Deja Hatcher
Thirteen | Female | District 3

Breaking him down for breaking me down. It's an eye for a eye and he deserves it. Lessons need to be learned how I had to learn not to trust someone. Strangers are strangers for a reason and I am not about to be brought down by someone who feels that I am nothing. I let my voice slip out with a cliff hanger. I start to tell him who I am, but my name is forever lost. I withold it on purpose. If that would have been the end, then he would never have known who I was. It wasn't though. Instead, his ribs snap like twigs due to the force of the swing. The spikes bear deep into his body, aiding into the breakages. So much is laying on the line right now. I look up when he flinches. I look up to the sky, and then around, begging the camera's to get a close up on my face. "Atticus. MONSTERS DON'T ALWAYS LIVE UNDER THE BED." I scream out and expect the worse. Nothing feels right now. Did he throw the weapon? Did he hurl it at me? Am I already dead or worse, am I being picked at again? Is my body being used for target practice yet again? What is he waiting on... "Ugg." The javelin misses me in whole, but it still makes its mark, adding insult to injury. How many times will he continue to bite into my stomach and force my blood to be removed from my body. How much longer can I stand without falling over from blood loss. "What... is this feeling?" I question as my fingertips dance across my stomach and warmth coats my fingers. My heart begins to race like no other. I've never felt this. Not when I escaped. Not when I was found. Not when I was reaped. This feeling is new. It feels like home. Something epic is happening right now and I can't describe the feelings that are flowing through my veins and out of my body. The ground becomes painted red with my blood, marking where I am hunched over my knee. This spot is where I will be the deciding factor for this fight. Jackson is broken. I am mangled. We are fighting for the same thing. Finally, tears decide to add to the mix of blood. I wipe the tears from my eyes, painting my skin with my own blood. Tiger stripes for the final moment. With both hands, I grip the spiked blunt in my hand. "I'm sorry, Jackson. My name is Deja."

Deja Attacks jackson with her morning star - for her need to become the tiger.
nkd5CTf|spiked blunt
14084 -- BROKEN RIGHT WRIST -- 6.5 damage
spiked blunt