this cannot be real ; ee/ee+ls/rb+ia/ck [ day 1.5 ]

[ghosty]

E L E T T R A .

Fear; the bitter taste of fear was what seeped into my mouth. I've lost my sister. The corridors were silent, other than the beating of a strained heart in harmony with its' mirror; it's not used to the weight of fear. It weighs down my steps to nothing more than a labored shuffles along the ground. Fingers writhed down my wrists, wrought out from horrible whispers in the back of my head. 

{ bang, bang, bang shouts the cannon. iris, helios, brooke. }

Just Elva and I in this corridor, at least she's the only other thing that I can hear. My mind wanders to the promises on the rooftop just last night. It feels an awful lot longer than that. Elva's fingers remain just a breath away from mine; I promised that I'd never let her go. 

I couldn't bare to lose another sister; Elva was my strength. If she was to go, it'd be like looking into a mirror and seeing nothing other than darkness staring straight back. We share the same heart, Elva and I. No one can survive without half a heart. 

Heartbeat thunders inside my chest: Iris is wandering alone in a a maze of corridors. Elva and I escaped unharmed, falling through the trapdoors into this horrible maze. I don't want to think about how badly she got hit, if she got out... if we'll see her again. 

I place my head against the wall; finally something solid in this place of chaos. Cursed even. It feels like a dream; all too vibrant to be real. Oh, so much do I want to wake up and realise that this was all just a horrible dream and I'd be back at home, with Elva, Iris, Jeq sat next to me at the table like nothing had ever changed. That the Hunger Games was all just another horrible dream.

Yet, it seems too real. The cannons echoed down these halls, and if I strained, I could still hear them through the towering pathways above me. I don't want to hear them any more: I dread to think who they are to represent. 

"We have to find Iris. She can't be safe in this place. Any ideas on how to get out of this damn maze?" Stolen glances to the paintings on the walls, repetition. I remember what I learnt when i was little; repetition is never natural.

Footsteps slowly pace towards us -- too hard for Iris. Around the corner.

"Elva, don't let me be like our parents," the words tumble soundlessly to the air. I never wanted to hurt someone, yet in this place. it's the only way to wake up from the nightmare.

I swing around the corner.

[attacks lazarus stroms, unarmed]
hulDp1otunarmed
[5009 -- Thrown to Ground -- 0.5 damage]

unarmed

[Python]

The bright half of her world was pulsing – one fist colliding with her only functioning eye, knocking her backwards. Crayons rolled beneath her body and stars danced across her vision like a taunt, decorating a vast blue backdrop with flying whales and other creatures that didn’t belong in the heavens. It was a dream world created from dust, brought into what was a seemingly impossible reality. Despite the swelling under her eye, it was almost calming. But then she was up again, stepping over the scattered bodies with bloodied skulls. This was not a dream, no matter how pretty or wondrous the atmosphere was. This was the death games that made everyone’s hearts shiver in terror. She scrambled past trails and trails of crayons until she found Ingran. If the devil was real, it was in that boy’s eyes and she was not one to tempt something venomous. However, she trusted Jano’s judgment, and they had already agreed upon the alliance. Even if her twin wasn’t here, she could not betray him. ”Ingran, we need to go!” She would not show her fear to him. They set off, feet scraping against unstable bricks. The two crayons rolling in her tote bag did not seem worth her time. If weapons and supplies were not here, they had to be elsewhere. Somehow they would have to reach the edge of the roof, and – They dropped. The impact was quick. There was no time to scream, only to feel her stomach rush into her lungs and knock the wind out of her. It reminded her of the times she missed a step and fell from the ladder of their treehouse, landing on her tailbone and cursing from the shockwave of pain. This was no different, tile against bone. The harshness made her nerves shudder. She grunted and climbed to her feet, knowing that bruises would not be enough to hinder her. There was a maze of staircases spiraling in every direction. Tributes were somehow walking along walls and hanging from the ceiling, defying every part of nature she thought she knew. They were inside of an enormous house, everything made grandiose and puzzling more so than the Capitol itself. What type of arena was this? She didn’t know where to go, so she climbed the closest set of normal stairs and found Ingran again. ”I need to find my brother,” she started, hand gripping the wooden rail of the staircase for dear life. Her stomach was still turning from all of the plummets she had taken. One more, and she might vomit. ”How about we—“ She mused aloud, but Ingran was sprinting ahead of her. There should’ve been a plan set in stone to find a way out of here and start exploring the lands for Jano and Asriel. Instead, Ingran had thrown himself into a second fray. Another cluster of tributes clashing by the staircase. She knew she could abandon him, leave him to indulge in his violent tendencies so she could find her brother. But it felt too early to start betraying her own values. The Games was a place of lost morale, but it was only the first day. She could wait. So with fists clenched, she followed suit.

table by elegant

[attacks Elettra - unarmed]
btbkONLvunarmed
Bruised Left Knee -- 2.5 damage

unarmed

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

E L V A I N A .



you go to sleep with the fishes
there's no room for you here
there's no room for you here
wrap your teeth around the pavement

Just as we fell from the sky, we fall from the roof and tumble into the mansion below. The floor opened up from beneath us and we plummeted down down down and into a house likely ten times larger than mine. I quickly regain my footing, as does Elettra — but Iris is nowhere to be found.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM, scream the canons from somewhere above that set alarm into my body, rolling with a raw momentum from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes in a sharply frigid wave.

It only seizes me further; fear clutches my heart in an icy grip as we walk through the labyrinth of larger than life-size corridors, only to find no answers and dark dead ends.

"We have to find Iris. She can't be safe in this place. Any ideas on how to get out of this damn maze?" says Elettra.

Before I can even part my lips to speak, footsteps pound against nearby floorboards, sounding like gunshots in my ears despite their actual faintness. For a moment, hope sparks in my chest with the thought that it could be Iris, but then I realize that they are too hard and heavy to be hers. If Iris were approaching, I doubt we would hear her at all.

Elettra looks at me with grim intensity, and my gaze fires back at her. We don't need to say anything to know what the other is thinking.

"Elva, don't let me be like our parents," she tells me, and swings around the corner. I don't hesitate to follow with my fists raised.

It is easy to forget who you are. I've kept my identity tucked within me, held tightly within my mind — with every step I say, You'll never be like your parents, with every breath I say, You're a girl who stands firmly on her principles.

In the yellowed newspaper photos of her that I saw, I can derive that my eyes are like Rosie's. The saturation sucks out the color from the photo; I'll never know what color, if they were sky blue or forest hazel or copper brown. But I can see how utterly empty they were — just like mine.

I would like the view the tributes that appear before me the way I view my parents — like monsters. But I know that's not what they are; they're just kids. But in this moment my vision morphs. It is difficult to see them as more than foes — they are faceless to me, their images blending into the background to surrender to the only things that matter to me: my sisters. In my head they are painted in smudged black oil pastels and Elettra and Iris are sharp figures outlined in gold.

My eyes find Elettra's to remind myself why I fight. That is how I find the strength to rush forward with my hands balled into fists, but I stop dead in my tracks as I watch the fist of one of the other girls, who has dark curls and an eye patch, collide with Elettra's flesh in a blow that will likely leave a mark.

Any hesitation I might have had to attack another tribute dissolves in that moment, and I feel nothing but contempt when I charge towards her at breakneck speed. Brows furrowed in distress, I growl quietly but harshly, "You!"

I wait for the fire, for the heat of the rush of adrenaline through my veins, but it does not come. There is no fire within me; only steel.

[Elva attacks Castor Karmichael; unarmed]
44Ae8Fvdunarmed
[5162 -- Gash/Bruised Left Wrist -- 3.0 damage]

'cause your body's a message
send my regards to hell
fall upon your knees saying
"this is my body and soul here"

unarmed

[gamemaker kelsier]

My teeth crawl out of my mouth through my lips, enamal and ivory scales taking flight like birds. I bite down, hard, drawing blood. Four crayons are stuffed into the belt of the jeweled panties I wear, the only thing protecting my skin other than the thick black fur coat. It's quickly becoming too hot. My skin cries out for a moment, a cool down. Castor runs ahead of me from the cornucopia and I watch her back recede. She gets so small that when I raise my fingers I can squish her between them like a bug. I wonder if Jano would be interested in fighting me if I killed her. She turns and looks back at me, fear in her expression and my lip curls back in disgust at her weakness. "Ingran, we need to go!” It would not serve me well to betray her here. Like it or not, she's the only person here who will fight with me. I let out a heavy sigh, annoyance heavy in every step I take. Someone punches the back of my head and I ignore it, only stumbling slightly. I catch up to her quickly and we run together, falling in unison when once again, the ground opens up beneath our feet. I soar for a moment, suspended in the air. I twist, catching the fall somewhere between my shoulder blade and back in order to lessen the impact. The colour of my coat is thick and furry, it acts as a cushion. It works, barely. Pain shoots through my shoulder and I grit my teeth, ignoring it for the most part. I climb to my feet, the strangeness of the world I'm in growing. I wonder for a moment if I've been drugged. Sometimes being high used to put my mother on the ceiling. Tributes run in a frenzy around me in literally every direction. Some jump down the walls, others run along the ceiling, each on an endless set of stairs. A room like this might drive someone mad. I experiment carefully, stepping off of my staircase to land with a thud on the one that seemed to be running along the wall horizontally. When I climb to my feet, nothing has changed, I don't feel like I am sideways. There is no sense of down and up anymore, I'm caught in limbo. For not the first time since I've fallen into the arena, a strange sort of joy sets in behind my collarbones, beating like a drum there. I don't know what it is, if it's excitement or wonder or some other bullshit. I haven't felt anything like it in a long time. I vaguely remember being three years old and wishing that my closet would take me somewhere else. Castor comes around a bend in the stairs, finding me. The only problem is that she is above me, or perhaps I am above her. I crane my neck back and stare. The top of her head is strange, little brown curls come out and cascade around her neck. Her hair doesn't fall the way it should if she were walking upside down but neither does mine. I jump back onto the staircase I came from and then land with a thud on the step beside hers. Some tributes seem to be lost and confused at this mode of travel but the stairs remind me of a dream I've had. It feels like dejavu, like I've been here before. I might just be inside of my head. Castor begins to speak but I see something past her, someone running towards us. I push past her, I'm having too much fun. I was worried it'd be boring but maybe I'm not the only one here who wants to have a good time. I go to meet them, raising a fist. [Ingran attacks Raven] rtSlfotRunarmed [5139 -- Broken Right Hand -- 6.0 damage]

table by elegant

unarmed

[umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]]

R A V E N ;

Eyes opened, closed. Chest rose and fell.

Knuckles ached.

Blood rushed through my veins in an uncomfortable way, reminiscent of the days in Gavin's spot, when calloused hands made their mark on the nature that swore to overthrow them like they had my poor, poor brother.

Not again.

They came and they stole. Now, I was going take it all back and bring it back home.

---

Dreams were tricky things. I had dreamed once, in middle school, that a friend had stolen my gloves. They weren't anything special, simple faux fur and leather most likely. But still. They were mine, and she was supposed to be my friend, but she had stolen from me. I spent the majority of the next morning fuming about it, thinking about the things I would do and say. Maybe I would call her a bitch and demand she give them back. Maybe I would slap her in front of everyone, embarrass her. Because she stole my gloves, and that was simply not permissible.

I did not eat breakfast that morning, or comb my hair, despite my mother's pleading. The only things I could think of were those gloves, how not having them would mean my fingers were going to be cold. And it was all my friend's fault.

It wasn't until I was leaving that I saw them hanging out of my coat pocket. Now, all because of this dream, I had not gotten to eat breakfast. Because I had lost my grip for reality, I was going without.

From then on, I admitted to myself every morning that-- "It wasn't real. It was just a dream."

(This place made a liar of me.)

Staircases on the ceiling, fish in the clouds-- my head begged for me not to believe it. Usually, when my eyes were open, things like this ceased to exist.

My brother smiling down at me, and my fists pounding into his chest because-- "You'll be gone when I wake up! So go!" And now I was left to wonder if this place had the power to show him to me for real.

"Laz!" I called, my hand reaching for his, "This way!"

I thought, perhaps, if I could focus on everything else, I could push my brother away. But that was quite difficult to do when he was the reason I was here.

I was halfway up a set of stairs when the gravity completely changed and I was lying on my side, the wall to my right now the floor.

"This place is ridiculous!" I hissed, trying to regain my footing with six inch heels. A realist's nightmare, honestly.

I thought I heard Laz warn me from something, and I was stupid enough to hesitate. The result was a crack against the back of my hand. I felt my pulse in it, which meant it was probably broken, which made me fucking furious.

"Seriously?!" I looked back to Laz for a second. "Put up your dukes, big boy. Let's see if you fight as good as you kiss."

I saw the sisters from Six, minus one. Had she died? Didn't remember. Actually, I didn't even remember seeing her.

Tragic.

"Weren't there three of you? Where's sissy?"

{ raven attacks elva; fists }
wMA_35cMunarmed
{ Black Eye -- 3.0 damage }

 [ rave ]

unarmed

[pogue]

L A Z A R U S

He is five years old, with twigs for limbs and a mind as vast as the sky that watches him from above, wonderlands and fairytales twisting and turning in the landscape around him. Now, he is a daredevil, scling mountains and tightroping across canyons and- he breathes, placing one foot in front of the other as he walks along the fence post, weight shifting as he presses forward. 

Unsteady, the sole of his foot hits a nail and he recoils back, raising his leg up with tears in his eyes. 

Down becomes up-

and he falls. 

---

Up becomes down-

and he falls. 

He hits a stair with a thud, his head slamming off the wood and octopus clutching around him. Vaguely during the Bloodbath he had hoped that the squishy fuck would be something of a support if he were to get hit in the head- he was wrong. 

Vertigo fingertips tighten around his body as he stands, shaking his head from the impact and taking a moment to survey his surroundings. It is chaos, more than fish in the sky and blood pools at his feet. Down is up, up is sideways, left is right and right is non-existent, tributes bodies slamming into staircases and floors and ceilings alike as they tried to escape the mess that they were thrown into. 

He wonders for a moment, reaches deep back into the void of his mind and thinks about if he had ever imagined anything like this as a child, before everything went black and red like roses-

"Laz, this way!" 

Raven calls his name from above, her heels are pressed to the ceiling and she is teetering, trying desperately to regain her balance and he grapples onto a stairway to his right, pulling himself up before slamming into it, groaning from the sudden change in gravity. Fuck. This place was an imagination gone awry-

He hadn't had much of an imagination ever since they brought him back, steel pressed to flesh and sword stuck in his spine. He gulps, making his way to Raven, eyes filled with fire and lip split. Blood trickles down his chin and he is rabid, vision red and body trembling with annoyance. 

"This place is already on my nerves." 

He mumbles it, just loud enough for the walls to hear. His words hang heavy in the air for a moment, sour with anger before his eyes widen as he sees a figure dart towards them-

"Raven, watch out!-" 

It's too late, he's too late and white knuckles press themselves into her hand, like glass shattering she recoils and he, in his moment of surprise feels hands press against his side with all the force they could muster. 

He stumbles sideways, Octopus on his back recoiling as he nearly topples over the edge of the staircase to his left, barely managing to grab the railing before he falls. 

If he fell, would he fall up? 

Shut up and fight, he swears the creature on his back mumbles. 

"Put up your dukes, big boy. Let's see if you fight as good as you kiss."

Raven taunts him and he grunts in response, pulling his body up from the edge of the railing and cracking his neck-

"Gentleman in the sheets, killer in the streets, right?" 

He charges up a wall, taking advantage of the change in gravity before pushing off, sending himself flying towards the boy from six, knuckles white-

and vision red.

{Attacks Ingran -- Unarmed}

QklXDjWTunarmed

{Tripped -- 0.5}

unarmed

[ghosty]

E L E T T R A .

Violence -- it is not who I am. I am the opposite of that, as far as can be from it. But I did not come in this place to die; no, I came here to help  Elva. I am not panicking, I am not scared. I am brave.

Such a shame that it was just a stupid little lie. 

This is just like those stupid little brawls that I always used to see from my window at home; just people caught up in the wrong situation. But that, that was where the similarities ended. I am built like a swan, not one of those brawlers.

Not a brawler like our father was; I've seen those posters, in newspapers in the chest. I've seen the mess that they've made. I never want to be like them.

It's a good job I was never afraid of heights; the floor never seemed to end in this place. If I was young, perhaps I'd think it was endless. Here, I wouldn't even doubt that. The walls were the floors; the floors were the ceiling and hell, I wouldn't even be surprised if the windows were water.

And I, in this place of nothing other than nightmares -- I was violent.

The boy; the one I hit before clattered to the ground. Like tiny marbles on a stone-clad floor.

Opportunity calls.

I stamp.

[attacks lazarus stroms, unarmed]
feALw3VTunarmed
[5077 -- Bruised Head -- 3.5 damage]

unarmed

[Python]

She could see them; twins. Two halves of a whole, a mirror on the wall. She remembered their infamous last name – Eckhart – and the tragedy that was their foolish bravery. Three girls tempted into volunteering for a game with one champion. Castor had her own reasons, but what were theirs? A story similar to her own? One desperately following their other half, a refusal to abandon their side even if it meant certain doom. And what about the third? Was she just suicidal? Guilt bubbled up like toxic foam, burning through heartstrings. She was inflicted by the same curse, destined to make her brother suffer or watch him die, perhaps both. In hindsight, all of it seemed pointless. Throwing one’s life away to a monstrous murder design. But without context, there should be no judgment. She didn’t know their lives, their backgrounds, their family, just as they didn’t know hers. Only the gamemakers had witnessed her story, but she couldn’t hope that they would ever understand. They were pretend deities thrust upon their own golden pedestals. No empathy, no humanity. Void of anything but materialism. That in itself sounded like an empty life. Castor knew why she was here, choosing the lesser of two evils. She knew why Jano had insisted upon following her, and now the consequences would be hers to endure. These twins had to know that too – that only one of them could survive. It was her reality too. Water spilled across the staircase, emptying a portrait’s ocean and sliding beneath bare feet. She slipped and crashed into one of the twins she had been aiming for, foot colliding with her knee. She grunted and stood up, grabbing the staircase as a clutch. She had no sense of direction; was she upside-down, sideways, or right side up? Gravity had become an illusion. Even the portraits were alive, and she knew then that nothing in this place could be trusted. Others joined the awkward brawl, one toppling Ingran to the floor. She had one moment to recognize Raven, until one of the twins lunged at her. Castor raised her hand to block it. ”Is anyone going to back away, or is this gonna turn bloody?”

table by elegant

[attacks Elettra - unarmed]
bSd1jdqEunarmed
Bruised Back -- 2.5 damage

unarmed

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

E L V A I N A .



fall and begging, pleading
"you've got the power and control"
don't pin it all on me
don't pin it all on me

Fists fly everywhere — it's a storm of chaos between four, no, five, no, six tributes total. I hardly think about who they are or why they fight; that doesn't hold any importance to me while Elettra's safety could be at stake. I do not think — my body flows with the violence tearing us apart, with my sister's movements to counteract the others.

It's amazing how the sheer will to survive can push people to lashing out in mindless violence against one another; something I do not, and will never, share with them. I have a singular objective in the Arena: protect Elettra and Iris. That is what fuels me, not the will to live. It is something I've lacked for as long as I can remember. I don't care whether I live or die, but the reason I have lived for so long without ending it is because of them — because of Frances's vibrant paintings on the walls, because of Elettra's warm embrace, because of Iris's silent smile.

I came here because I wanted to die, but now I carry my sisters until the end.

"Weren't there three of you? Where's sissy?" says one of the other girls.

"Not here," is all I say in a deadpan response, keeping my answer vague. Even if I did know where Iridium was, I wouldn't tell someone I don't know.

"Is anyone going to back away, or is this gonna turn bloody?" Another voice rings out clear in the midst of calamity; it belongs to the girl who is attacking Elettra. My eyes burn into her skin with a fury whose name I do not know — a faceless anger gradually unfolding within my body.

"Why would I stop while you're attacking my twin sister?" I retort back at the girl whose wrist I bruised.

For a fleeting moment my mind flashes back to my private training session, where I declared that I would kill anyone to save my sisters. Does that still hold true now, as I stand face to face with her attacker? Not a monster, but a very girl who has a family back home and people who care about her. I try not to dwell on that reoccurring thought, but it pushes itself back into my head.

"I'm sure we all have people you care about at home, I know I do," I say. "But who I care about more than anything else in the world is standing right next to me." My other half — Elettra. We are a part of a whole, a mind and a heart, two things that cannot function without the other. If she were to be taken from me, I would be a walking half of what I once was.

"So if you intend to hurt her —" I cast a glare at Elettra's attacker.

I finish my sentence with a fist.

[Elva attacks Castor Karmichael; unarmed]
56L3wCzPunarmed
[5024 -- Knocked Backwards -- 0.5 damage]

you've been granted three wishes
say goodbye to your mother, your father, your son
i can hear your pulse racing from here
sitting next to this gun beats your heart in your mouth

unarmed

[gamemaker kelsier]

I hear her bones snap, music to my ears. Human bodies are instruments. I’ve broken her hand and I can feel it under my own skin, liberating. I wonder if I can break more of her. My balance falters for a moment and I’m thudding against the floor. Someone tripped me, but it doesn’t hurt and I don’t care. I stand up again, looking for my original target. Everyone is punching and kicking each other, as if this were a second bloodbath. Except there needs to be more blood. Castor is taking on the twins and she seems to be holding her own. I turn back to the other girl, ready to pounce. I wonder how much of her I can break. Time to find out. (this is a filler/wip til ele gets back I think?) [Ingran attacks Raven] Ja9FjpXkunarmed Miss -- 0.0 damage accuracy reroll: unarmed Gash/Bruised Right Foot -- 3 damage

table by elegant

unarmed�unarmed

[umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]]

R A V E N ;

Iron fist met face of flesh, and I watched as a pretty bruise began to bloom around Thing One's eye. Part of me expected some kind of pat on the back, a sort of congratulations, and though I knew I would not get one, I was a bit disappointed when it never came.

I'll kill her, then. They'll notice me then, for sure.

("Not here.")

It came from Thing Two, only moments before she smacked Lazarus in the back of his head. Pain seared in my left hand, hot steel hissing within my bones like a broken pipe creating steam. His blood pressed to the stone steps, ruby stones finding their home somewhere in the reddest parts of my mind.

The steel and the iron became me, and I would not let bones and blood break me.

I looked at Thing One, and maybe it was fury or spite that made me do it. Maybe wrath was a real downfall for me. Or maybe I had learned to play this game, and I would not let them stop me from clawing my way to the top, but I stared her down as I began to charge, mouth agape with threats falling like poisoned promises--

"Better hope you find her before I do."

Hurt one of mine, and I would be damn sure to hurt one of yours more.

{ raven attacks elva; fists }
NPogjZ|Zunarmed
{ damage }

 [ rave ]

unarmed

[pogue]

L A Z A R U S

He's seeing double.

He topples to the ground with the boy from six, Ingran, his name lingers against the back of his mind before dissolving into nothing. They hit the ground hard, and he hears him groan in protest before rolling off him, his fists going up instinctively as he gets to his feet, white knuckles fading in and out of view as he glances around the fight around him. 

There's two of them, with fists swinging and forms molded from the same flame, one speaks and he tastes poison heavy in her lungs, swirling and tumbling from her lips, singing the ground and he narrows his eyes, Eckhart. 

Death wish suicide pact, they came into this in threes and he bites his lip as she speaks about  the person she cares about most, rolling his eyes at the afterthought. Sooner or later, she'd be forced to kill them- if someone else didn't get to it first. 

Fingertips scrape against the back of his head and he stumbles forwards, black spots clouding his vision and he can see them, his family, shrouded around the edges of his vision with arms beckoning him towards them-

He blinks and they become his attackers, with sword in hand and words in throat and he sees his sister's eyes, lifeless and fading, hears her voice in his ears. 

"It's me- it's me- it's me-" 

"Fucking bitch." 

He swings wildly behind him, fingers curling around the ghost handle of a knife he doesn't possess, eyes widening and jaw set. The girl dances around his swing, barely ducking out of the way and he regains his footing, eyes darting between the girl, her twin, and the boy from six. Water pools at his feet, gushing from the walls and as he blinks it turns to blood, their blood his blood, splattered against the floors like paint against canvas. He breathes, taking a few steps backwards and pressing his foot into the staircase to his left.

Gravity wraps fingers around his reality and he feels his stomach drop as he's suddenly watching the fight from below, hearing the words of Castor Karmichael ring in his ears 

”Is anyone going to back away, or is this gonna turn bloody?”

He grins from below her, above her, he'd remembered her name because she'd volunteered with a sibling like him, two fates tied together like a knot. 

"Sweetie, I think we've already hit the point of bloody." 

His words hang dead in the air for what seems like an eternity before Raven proves his point, slamming her fists down into one of the twins' heads-

He hears a sickening crunch, and in the back of his mind he can swear he hears the shotgun bang, but it isn't his skull splitting. 

His eyes widen as blood falls up, roses leaking from her head before her body follows suit, hitting his ceiling in a heap and he takes his chance.

Silence, waiting, it is the ugly cousin that Death feels obligated to bring to the hangout. He's seen it before, when he watched a woman die, when Scarlett killed a man. 

His form lurches forward as he climbs the stairs again, the shift in gravity throwing him off and he throws a simple sentence at Castor, nodding towards the crumbled heap of the one of the Eckharts.

"Case in point." 

And just as the silence ends, he swings.

{Attacks Ingran -- Unarmed}

Oy9w8Vlmunarmed

{thrown to ground -- 0.5}

unarmed

[ghosty]

E L E T T R A .

I glimpse myself in the marble clad floor - eye's panicked, Elva was ready for this, as it seemed, but I... I was never ready to be fighting for this. I knew that it would come, that I would be in this place, seemingly fighting for my life. But instead, it's a fist fight; it's not clean like those fights I've seen before. 

It's just a mess of scuffed fingers hitting hardened skin of people already damaged from what just came before. I hear pain, and I feel like that monster I feared. I never wanted to be a monster.

"Better hope you find her before I do." Not Iris; eyes widen. Head shakes move the air around me, disbelief taking control. Words froze on my tongue as she swung; towards Elva, towards my sister. I came here to protect her, I came here to get her home, I came to -- { crack ;; }

My heart leaps to my throat. Elva falls like the leaves I remember back home. Green fades to orange fades to umber-dying and curling into nothing.

"ELVA!"

I feel ice creep up into my skull; it can't be anything other than a nightmare.

Words merely dribble out, "What have you done?"

[attacks raven barker, unarmed]
jwc7ZtBFunarmed
[5074 -- Broken Nose -- 5.5 damage]

unarmed

[Python]

Fist against flesh felt like a wasted effort. Pounding bruise after bruise into this girl among a labyrinth of staircases and winding corridors with beating hearts in their portraits, what was the purpose? Nobody knew if the other person had any valuable supplies. They had sprinted across a trap-ridden rooftop and scrambled after crayons, as if their only methods of survival had spilled from a child’s playset. It all felt senseless, empty, so she had opted to abandon the effort with an untrustworthy Ingran at her side. Desperate to seek her brother, they ended up plummeting into this dizzying hell. And now what? Fists, fury, a plan foiled by more violence. She didn’t see the purpose of this, but Ingran had taken off like a rocket. Now she had been added to another’s agenda; kill her. It didn’t matter if she had made friends or enemies beforehand, every meaning of a person’s name drifted away once the Game commenced. Nobody cared about whose bones fractured against their knuckles. At this point, that was only human. But she didn’t want any of this. She had an agenda of her own – find Jano and Asriel. Regroup and map out the game plan. They needs supplies, a campsite, weapons, yet she hadn’t spotted either one of them during the Bloodbath. In fact, it seemed as if they had been missing half of the tributes. This was only delaying them further; a chaos she could not plan around. It wasn’t like Seven, where she could hide out and plot the night’s shenanigans. This was abrupt, demanding quick thinking and reflexes. Adrenaline was merely a guide. Think. What did she want to do? Leave. But she was on her back again, knocked into a staircase by one of the twins. She must’ve had an agenda – protect. ”Why would I stop while you're attacking my twin sister?” She knew she would do the same for Jano, but released her thoughts anyway. ”To save her.” And as Castor rose again, the guardian collapsed. One half of the whole was split with one stomach-churning crack. Eye widened, absorbing half of a horrible world, she stood up. The one boy’s words nearly fell upon deaf ears, because she had trained herself to drown out the worst of prison. She realized this was a glimpse into the future, and felt her heart shrink back into its former cage. Fist clenched, she glanced up at the boy. She could not stand here and listen to the other twin’s desperate shouts. ”Well, it is now.” She was shocked by how steady her own voice carried.

table by elegant

[attacks Lazarus - unarmed]
GFxlmFwBunarmed
Gash/Bruised Right Shin -- 3 damage

unarmed

[gamemaker kelsier]

I watch one of the twins fall in front of me, the world seems to slow as if it knows what is about to happen. The girl that I've been attacking has paid me little mind other than to hiss in annoyance at the breaking of her hand. Her focus was set on someone else. Her hands look small, delicate. The one I've broken looks raw, painful. She still finds a way to take one of the doppleganger's heads in her hands and crush it, senselessly. I watch, appreciation trickling down through my rib cage to fall with a 'drip' into the pit in my stomach. I like that. I like watching a human skull collapse inwards under the force of two hands. It looks good, filling. I turn away from the skull-crusher, interest lost in fighting her. I want to watch her kill again. I look to Castor and watch as she kicks the boy who has been pushing me in the shin. I stare for a moment, a note of confusion hitting me for the first time in awhile. I don't recall the last time anyone bothered to try helping me in a fight. It isn't necessary and no one has ever really cared for me anyway. Most would rather have the killer they work with dead. She is strange, convinced that we need each other. I don't hold the same conviction. I look down at the fallen girl, the fresh crack and boom of a cannon still raw and wholesome in my ears. Her eyes stare wide, unseeing and I understand after a moment that this is the first death in the games that I've witnessed. Not the first death I've ever witnessed. I ponder for a moment why she bothered volunteering, the inability to understand someone else creating a wall towards understanding. I see it in all of them, in the way they turn their head, in the blink of their eyes, the same possession that encases my skin and makes it hard to feel anything at all. The lust for it, the smell of iron thick in the air and the fear in the eyes, in that split second, when your prey knows they are about to die. They're all just as sane as I am. I refocus my attentions to the boy and grin. It isn't just a fight now, friendly fire. This is the games.

table by elegant

[ingran attacks Lazarus]
lgKNzY7Lunarmed
unarmed