on top of the world {feast, day five}

[lance]

Welcome to the 76th Feast, tributes! Some rules before u get started:

1. A GM (me) will begin the feast, with this post here.

2. Feasts require an introductory non-attacking post. ALL tributes must post an introduction before the fighting can commence. Every post in the Bloodbath or a Feast must be either an intro, an attack or a flee. This should be posted no later than 9pm PST on Tuesday, August 8th.

3. Posting order will apply, as will the two attacks per round rule. Posting order can be found in the anthem

4. Two deaths are required before anyone can claim an item or flee.

5. After the two required deaths, tributes may continue fighting or select an item and flee as they wish. Tributes that opted to double heal require three posts to flee.

6. When fleeing, tributes must select one item from the list. There is only one of each item, so once an item has been claimed by a tribute, no one else can take it.

The list of items is as follows:

1: One flower crown, complete with yellow, purple, red, and white flowers
2: One jar of tar with a delicate gold ribbon wrapped around it.
3: One skull-shaped glass bottle of tequila, comes with a porcelain salt shaker and a bag of limes.
4: One medkit
5: One life-sized pocket whale plushie with a red gift bow taped to its head
6: One large tupperware of what appears to be an actual feast: seafood stew, oysters on the half shell, fried mussels and some biscuits with cheese sprinkled on top (feeds three, will become useless after two days if not eaten bc seafood)
7: Two needle and threads, the threads themselves are sea-foam green and turquoise
8: One watercolor set with an 80 page teal notepad (dotted)
9: Two halves of a coconut, you can spy milk in the hollowed out shells, equipped with plastic straws sticking out of them (water for 2)
10: One dark colored tincture, reading the label will reveal that it’s hemlock essential oils (poison)

[solo]

if you must fight, fight with yourself
and your thoughts in the night
if you must work, work to leave
some part of you on this earth

Henri always told me scars were a good thing to have.

(But why? Don't they mean you got beat up?)

He'd laugh and shake his head. Problem was, he never actually told me why they were a good thing. I think I get it now. My scars show that I've fought and lived, that I don't go down easily. And sure, they're not scars yet. Just scrapes across my face and arms. But they're ugly little things, and I'm certain they'll live tiny white lines across my skin for the world to see. Let them see it. Let them see the marks on my body, let them see that I am not afraid.

The anthem echoes across the arena and I lift my head, leaning back wearily against the tree behind me and scanning the stars above. His face appears, bold and sudden, seeming to rock the earth beneath me. I set my hands down on the ground to steady myself. I didn't think...I don't know what I thought. I swallow hard and turn my head. Light flickers and I know they're switching through the faces of the dead, but I don't care to see them anymore. I count the fluctuations in the lighting around me and gather that four more have died. One was named Glacia. One was named Kaiser. My fingers start to shake and I wring them together, hoping it'll stop.

What were his last words? They're somewhere in my mind, dark, faded, unable to make themselves known despite how far I reach into the empty space.

The thing that scares me is that it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Killing him, it was easy, when I knew it meant I might get to go home. I guess I always knew that it would be easy. But now, with the moment fresh in my mind, the emotions shock me to my core and I'd rather be thinking about anything but this right now.

Motion from a few feet away catches my attention and I jump. My fingers crawl to my sword, but then I realize it's just Ree.

I'd rather be thinking about anything but this right now.

Without really thinking, I push myself to my feet, arms quivering slightly under my own weight. How can I be so weak? It's pathetic. I frown and try my best to brush away the thought, instead making my way towards my ally. There's a clear spot on the ground, taken up mostly by his resting body.

"Hey," I nudge his shoulder with my foot. "Move over." I can't quite make out his expression in the dark, but I can hear rustling, and his form shuffles over so that there's space for two. I need a distraction. Anything to get my mind off the thrill, the adrenaline, the blood on my hands and the uncertainty of whether it's mine or his and the--

No. Not now.

I lower myself down to the earth beneath me. My body finds a place next to his, heat radiating off of him despite the fact that we're not quite touching. I lean my head back and pear up at the stars through the foliage above us. I can't help wondering if they're real. Absently, my hand wanders up to my cheek, tracing the scabs that have begun to form across my face. I run my fingers across them and and press my lips together.

"They messed up my face." I grumble, words spilling out before I have a moment to think about them.

He catches me by surprise when his own hand brushes mine away and his thumb grazes my cheek. My eyes are adjusting to the light and I can see him looking at it. I watch, trying to decipher what he's thinking. But none of this seems to fit together. He doesn't fit together, I don't fit together, we don't fit together. We're shattered vessels in a torrential storm and I'm not even sure we can make ourselves whole again, let alone each other.

"Still looks fine to me." his voice breaches the silence between us, soft and tired, but seemingly honest.

I lie still for a breath. And then I laugh, pull away ever so slightly, and the quiet snow globe around us shatters into crystalline bits of glass. "I think you need glasses."

"No, what I need is a hit before I trip and fall on my own damn spear."

My laugh fades and turns to a frown. "Don't say that." I shake my head, a pause hanging in the air. "Don't waste the time you have left."

He's quiet, thinking. The silence rises to a deafening cacaphony in my ears before he speaks again. "If I wasn't wasting it what else would I be doing, watching people die?"

His words crack at the foundation beneath me and I need a moment to get my bearings once more. I shrug. "I guess we don't have much of a choice here if we want to live."

The boy from Three turns to look at the sky. I didn't realize he'd been watching me until he wasn't. I mimic his actions, narrowing my eyes at the vast expanse above us, still pondering it's reality in this cut-out paper world where we're supposed to die. "Y'know, I wish we weren't meeting like this."

I laugh, albeit half-heartedly, logic pulling through any imagination I have left. "We wouldn't have met otherwise." And I almost wish it could've been that way.

A strange, foreign nose rolls through the air around us, and it takes me a moment to realize that he's returning the laugh. Laughter doesn't belong in graveyards. It shouldn't be here, yet there it is, weak and quiet but there. "I guess you're right, I'd be getting high in some street somewhere in Three and you'd be doing, well...whatever District Elevens do, I guess."

I shrug for the second time. "Most of us pick fruit all day." Another pause. "Izars like to cause trouble though. Or at least, the ones I've met."

I glance sideways. He seems thoughtful, peering through the trees. The like of eye contact with another human leaves some small hole in my already shattered existence. "I like fruit, and trouble under the right circumstances." A weak smile pulls at the corners of his lips. I watch him, memorizing the way his cheeks move, the directions his muscles pull and where his skin tightens and relaxes. I haven't seen a friendly smile in what seems like ages.

"Well, there's plenty of trouble here for you." I glance around, as if searching for something, then smile faintly in return. "Fruit, not so much."

He's looking at me again and my twitching fingers lie still. He's worried, about...damn. I'd almost forgotten.

"You okay?"

He means well, I know he does, but his words dig and twist in to me like a white hot knife. My brows knit together and I look away. "I'm fine." Without my permission, my body shifts towards him, head on his chest and stomach pressed against his side. "Let's not talk about it, okay?"

"Okay." his voice hangs in the air. Then his arms are closing around me, and for a moment I tense, wondering if he'll try to strangle me before I become a threat to him. But he's gentle and relaxed, exhausted and unaware of the graveyard around us. "We won't."

A long breath escapes my lungs and my muscles loosen. My eyes close and I realize how tired I am.

"Good night, Ree."

(wip cause i'm trash i'm so sorry more to come as soon as physically possible)

---

[ Raquel Izar enters the Feast ]

if you live darling one
just l i v e
just l i v e
just l i v e

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

der innerer reichtum der leute ist wie licht bunt
durch farbglas hereinzuscheinen
the inner wealth of the people is colourful as light
to shine inside through coloured glass

In the anthem that night, Glacia Eon's face appears in the sky. No matter how much she tried to brace herself, nothing could prepare her for this.

WIP at this part, I just woke up but gonna try to finish this later tonight - don't want to hold this up more

Emberly Lowe takes her allies' hands and trains her eyes on the sand. The firelight flickers onto the ground, warming the sand the way the sun does in the daylight. And she wonders if tomorrow will be the last day she ever sees the sun, if tonight is the last night she ever sees the stars.

"No matter what," Emberly says to her friends. "I'll be here with you, until the end." The end — she does not necessarily mean death when she speaks that word. The end; when they are all dead or when they finally have to betray one another.

She hopes to never see their faces in the sky, but knows that if she is too see her family again, it is something she will have to endure. Am I strong enough? she wonders. Perhaps she isn't, but she should be, shouldn't she? Emberly Lowe has now killed someone; like Clementina, she has taken a life in the name of survival. But she does not know if she can do it again, let alone survive the aftermath.

(If she is too see her family again, it is something she will have to endure.)

After Emberly makes her tallies into the back of her photo, she shivers knowing that one of the marks is a kill she made. Tonight, she adds four marks; eleven more tributes will die.

- ★ -

"I promised you until the end," Emberly says to Raquel and Ree as her hand grips on the hilt of The Queen. (Deep breath — in . . . and out.) "I meant it."

this intro is a WIP so I don't hold up the fight ayyy, will fill this in tonight

[Emberly Lowe enters the feast]

das angenehme tägliche leben ist
wie ein warmes kerzenlicht
the comfortable daily life
is like warm candle light

. . .

"vogel im käfig" ("bird in a cage") by hiroyuki sawano.

[gamemaker kelsier]

when i see you the whole world reduces to just that room

I stood there for a long, time, long after Emberly and Ree and Raqul left.

I stand and stood there, on the beach, black sand at my feet and waves crashing with the heaviest sound that I've ever felt on my soul and I felt very alone all of a sudden. Very alone.

At my feet was a bundle of bandages and a sewing needle, as if they could replace my dead friends. The needle kind of looks like Lace I guess, long and thin. It glints in the sunlight, pretty. The bandages would be Kaiser, tight and safe.

There's blood near my feet and I watch it, thick there on the black stand, seeping in and staining it. Kaiser and Lace lie there quietly, doing nothing at all. The wind from the ocean brushes over their cheeks and skin, making their hair and clothing move gently, like breathing. It's kind of like breathing. They aren't breathing though.

God, death is fucking weird.

I thought that it would feel like they're still here with me and it kind of does but it doesn't all at once. I feel Basil still, somehow, strangely, like a burden on my shoulders. She's heavy, accusatory. Vibrant.

Lace too now, her soft voice calling out for me across the sand and me, just standing there like an idiot, letting Emberly Lowe cut her down.

Kaiser, that sharp edge in his neck, eyes emptying faster than the blood from his neck.

Basil.

They all trusted me to help keep them safe, at least for as long as we could. I was supposed to help them make it to the end and then I was supposed to die. I'd known from the start that I was the throwaway, the ally choice because I was small and useless. It would have been fine, if it had been me.

"Don't you think?" I ask.

They're both dead so they don't say anything at all.

I sit down there, staring at their still chests. Basil's body might as well be there too. I can see her on that sand, hair spread around her head. They're all just sleeping.

"Don't you think?" I ask softer.

I put my face into my knees and stay like that for a long time. I don't know how long but I don't watch when the plane comes to take away their bodies. If my pants are slightly soggy from salt then I don't pay any attention to it when I lift my head, but it aches. I sip my water, trying to combat the pounding. My cheeks are burning, eyes weary from tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I'm a little bitch, a pussy. Only little bitches cry, a Seraphim gets back up and keeps going.

Maybe I don't deserve the last name.

Maybe that's why my parents stripped me of mine. They could see this in me, this cowardice.

They're all dead because of me, because I couldn't do anything useful. They're dead because I put my bat down when I should have been fighting for their lives. Yesterday I fought with anger for Basil's death. Tomorrow if I'm to get vengeance it'd be better if I just killed myself because I have no illusions that this isn't my fault.

My fault.

I think about the training center and Kaiser fucking me. I couldn't feel anything well after, staring up at the ceiling, as he lay beside me, muscles taught and body glistening with sweat in the dim lighting. How numb I felt, like my legs weren't attached to me anymore but someone else instead.

That was my virginity, gone.

I don't regret it at all. I'm kind of glad that someone so fiercely alive was the one to fill me up and then recede like the ocean's tide. I don't mind that I'll never touch him again, that his heartbeat is gone from me because for awhile I had it. For a moment, brief and very simple, it was mine. I felt his heart against my chest and even though Kaiser Frey belonged to everybody else, he belonged to only me for the briefest of seconds.

I reach my hand into my pocket and take out the wilted leaves I took off Aline's body the other day, a disgusting scavenger in a ravaged field. The act had made me feel dirty even then but now I carefully put the plant into my mouth, savouring every bite. I wonder if Ree is eating his right now too, if he likes how it tastes. Mine taste like barely anything.

I bite my tongue, hard.

Blood in my mouth, it tastes too much like the other day. Aline's blood in my mouth.

I look down and my shirt isn't recognizable anymore, it's so covered in blood.

I stand up then, the sun already beginning to set. My feet begin for me, Ash, Lace's Koala wandering along behind until I stop and wait for it, scooping it up to sit on my shoulder beside Bitch.

I carry Lace and Basil with me, weight on my shoulders.

Kaiser is gone, nothing left but the feeling of his lips against my skin.

I wander across the sand, towards the line of trees. My feet hurt and my back aches, neck tired from holding up a head that isn't so certain that it wants to be held anymore. I walk along the beach until there is not beach left and then I step into the shade of the line of trees, too cool in the setting night.

My feet, dogged and determined, they go, ever onwards.

"I should just stop walking, Mason, shouldn't I?" I whisper it to the branches high overhead, heart dripping for my eyes that have become too empty to fill again.

I should just lie down here, let myself starve. I could watch my own end from a comfortable spot in the undergrowth, feel my bones settle as I slowly starve to death. I don't deserve the life I was granted here today, don't deserve the freedom of moving my feet. I wonder if Kaiser and Lace are already in coffins, already on their way back to nine. Will they build them again? Make them whole for their families? Or will their funerals be closed casket.

I consider who will greet my dead body at the end of it all.

Certainly not my parents.

Maybe Tate or Nemo.

Maybe both.

"Please say you'll be there Mason. Please say you'll be there to greet me?"

I'll never know what he would say in return.

I don't know how mad at me he is for what I've done. I don't even know if he misses me. Maybe it's presumptuous to even assume that he's watching me right now. Maybe there aren't even any cameras on me. I don't know.

It's comforting to talk to him, to go on loving him like this even if he'll never love me in the same way.

I was stupid, naive and it hurt.

Crushes are stupid.

The sun falls and soon it's nearly too dark to see. I don't seem to care, my feet take me forwards anyway, seemingly searching for death.

Sounds begin to fill the night air in the darkness, but not the right ones. I expect animal noises but only get the strange trumpets of the anthem. It's as if they've turned down the sound of wildlife in order for the anthem to be properly heard, only to further underline the knowledge that we are in a cage.

I can't help watching as Lace and then Kaiser fill the sky, one after another, their cannons so close. I stand still enamored by their presense, and my knees almost give out. Pure want fills me up from the top of my head down to my heels and I just want them, my friends. I want them back. My empty eyes water in pain and even though I carry no physical wound, I somehow feel like I'm bleeding out too, like a cup, runneth over, I'm overflowing, drowning in it.

Something rustles in front of me and I go still, feet stopping by their own decision. I know that I should go hide, that I'm in no state to fight anyone. I can't help thinking that it might be okay to be cut down here. It's not too late. I could die today too and then maybe this hurt will go away.

Adelaide comes tumbling out of the bushes, hair wild and expression akin to mine and I remember that she's alone too. I remember that we're both the only ones left. She shuts her eyes then, going still somehow, stiller than I've ever seen a person become.

“Someone once told me self is a sea, boundless and endless. I bid you feel the ocean within yourself. Know that you are never alone and your grief can only make the ocean deeper.”

Her voice is different again, back like when she pressed that colour to my skin and changed her stance, like someone important. Her eyes open then, and I step backward unwillingly, a strange electric fear making my veins jump. “And if that doesn’t help, you can always punch something, right?”

"Right?"

The answer seems to be good enough.

She flashes a cheeky grin at me then and strides past me, deeper into the trees. I stumble along after her, a strange sort of fear keeping me on her heels, afraid that if I lose sight of her I'll fall back into the silence and I don't want to be alone with them anymore, my ghosts and my thoughts. I don't want to sleep alone tonight.

We stop after awhile and I sit down on the soft forest floor, watching Adelaide leap around, trying to catch more koalas. She's got a growing pile there, in the clearing and I'm not sure what her aim is. I wonder if it's a method of distraction, same as mine. If she focusses on hunting koalas, she doesn't have to think about her dead friends. If I focus on her, I don't have to think about mine or the guilt on my shoulders.

I watch her until she stops, tumbling down gracefully into a heavy sleep and I don't move for a long time, eyes trained on her. I'm afraid that she isn't really here, that this moment doesn't exist. False security and hope, I don't know if I can bear it anymore.

It's the first night without Kaiser's breath on my neck, without the soft, comforting sounds of Lace asleep.

Basil lights up like a fire in my skull and I curl up, tears spilling down my cheeks again, helplessly.

I cry until I'm nothing.

I sleep lightly, arms wrapped around Ash. She sleeps heavy in my arms, quiet and soft like Lace always was.

"Titus, help."

She calls out for me in my dreams and I stand there, doing nothing, feet encased in cement. I raise my arm to help her but Emberly is too fast and I'm too slow and Lace is dead because of me, again.

I wake when Ash moves, mouth nibbling at my fingers, Bitch tugging on my sleeve, Johno nearly sitting on my head.

My backpack is starting to smell from the dead bird inside but it can't smell worse than me.

The koalas are leaving, slowly but surely, all in one direction. I sit up, confusion wracking my brain in the early waking stages. They've never done anything like this before, always compliant to simply sit still, like massive furry paper weights. Adelaide still sleeps soundly and I can't help feeling relief. She didn't leave me alone with the ghosts.

I feel her new blessing on my back, tugging my upwards again and even though I could only have gotten a few hours of rest at best, I feel strangely refreshed. I flick my brain off, deciding to focus on the retreating koalas rather than the absence I feel inside of me.

Gently, I push Adelaide on her shoulder.

"Addy, wake up," I say softly, "I think they want us to follow them."

She rises all at once, so different from a sun but like a shooting star.

So we go then.

[Titus Seraphim enters the feast]

[*]

"Sleep tight." Wendell whispered, watching as Cam and Wal had taken to their regularly scheduled sleep routine. Little sleep had allowed the twelve to catch more than afew hours a night save for the first night where sleep was non-existent. He stayed awake, watching out for the surviving two members of his alliance. He would have to keep them alive if he wanted to do the same. More than once, he thought about betrayal, but somewhere deep within that hardened heart of his, he regressed from his internal needs. He plaited with the scenarios in the dark of each night with visions of their blood as he took their lives - one step closer to the end. One breath closer to making it harder for each and every tribute in this arena to come to terms with the moment they would meet with Wendell's unforgiving agenda.

He scoffed at the idea and their lives remained as intact as they had when they were first brought into this life. His hand had not touched them in a harmful way yet. Then again, the days had flown by and despite the addition and subtraction of another for one day, he kept the original two alive.

"You're lucky... tonight. You won't be lucky." He murmured as the anthem lit up the sky and the faces of the dead emerged. Three sets of eyes watched with him. They didn't know Lorenza as he had -yet he didn't know her that much either. It seemed that she was the only one who actually tolerated him for the most part and accepted that he was the ass he had always been. Stolen liquor is what brought them together, and drunken minds took them away.

Drunk with rage, he recalled how Muscles was the one to completely sever her life line right in front of him. Even though her death meant nothing to him, just as McCarthy's had, he still felt something from the look on her face as he neared her body, extracting the koala from her naked body. She'd died just as she had came into the world. She gave the viewers what they wanted to see. Her agenda had been fulfilled.

His was still occurring.

As the Koala mourned, clinging onto his back still, the faces still reeled by. He waited to see the face of Rory yet again for the final time. But the clean picture, smiling, wouldn't keep him from remembering the image of the finger flipping him off nor the look of death as he cut into him - saving him just moments from death to give that honor to someone else.

He kept himself from being a murderer. That honor wasn't what he wanted. As long as his hand had contributed to the moment that their breaths would cease, he was content. His handy work would always be reminded that he could torture a soul into death, yet let them suffer until someone else was kind enough to finish what he had started.

He was no king as previously deemed, instead - he was a mercenary.

Yet, Rory's face faded but the image still imprinted upon the starry sky. Dark eyes twinkled as the night sky grew black. Sounds of sleep emerged from his allies and peace overwhelmed him. Silence screamed at him.

"Fuck it..." He growled, standing to attention and walking off to ease his troubled mind.

Sleep came to him, thirty minutes prior to the call of the wild around them, and the voice of the gamemaker shook him awake. A feast was announced and like or not, they were forced to attend. Arthur nuzzled his nose into his neck, clinging to his new owner. As ugly as the thing was, the animal made Wendell more aware of everything going on. He had no quarrel with the bag of fur and thus, seemed to enjoy the company.

"I won't eat ya..." His attempt at an apology exited from his lips even though he knew the creature wouldn't understand.

All at once, familiar faces and tributes came together, and his fingers latched onto the voulge harder. Faces, several recognizable to those he had forgotten about, had been forced to attend the feast as well. It was the bloodbath day all over again, but this time, there were only twelve.

"What's up Teddy. Muscles." He whispered, eyeing his foes from just the day before. His mind drinking up the images of their fallen comrade all over again. Today, he would see them fall as well. Aside from them, his vision swam by the rest, acknowledging each one that still remained.

"Too bad we all can't live." He taunted the wind, then peered to his allies. "Let's save our own skins guys in place of theirs."


[Wendell enters the feast]

[kousei ♚]

We are everyday robots on our phones
In the process of getting home
Looking like standing stones
Out there on our own

Excess of fears and fallen bravery -- Kaiser Fray hits the ground before he has the chance to find his voice.

My spear leaves a red crevice along his forearm, a red notation for desperation after I told him to leave us and he didn't; the look in his eyes told it all so I pushed nights shared around the mouth of a bottle to the back of my mind and struck out as hard as I could. The same motion, the same fluidity and the same awkward hands, he should've killed me for my transgression of simply wanting to save my own skin and the beating heart of my ally.

I blink, expecting to feel Kaiser's final bite along my trembling porcelain flesh.

Raquel's sword found its home through the side of his neck and he hit the ground like a stone, career density and all. No time for a mournful gathering around the fallen, I turn on my heels and grab Emberly be her shirt. "We have to fucking go, now!" I scream, interrupting her split second moment for mourning because I question whether I have the stomach to train my eyes on anymore blood scattered along the beach. I pull her up and I barely manage a glance at Titus for longer than second and I know he's been reduced to a pillar of despair, we leave him and the pain in my chest trumps any psychological scar reopened by withdrawal.

I run away from them because I don't know what else to do.

('You fucking mess.')

A mess, a torn man, a broken man -- what's the fucking difference?

The burden of reality and the absence of colored smokescreens has already taken it's toll and I feel my self clicking, cracking with every sob held back and every involuntary twitch of muscle. The outline of Kaiser Fray's body in the sand quickly becomes more prominent than any bottle of alcohol shared with him, arrogance and killing intent be damned, the very sight of the weeping red flood from his neck leaves scars in the back of my mind. "Fuck this, fuck this, fuck-" I stumble, cutting myself off when I'm forced to thrust my spear towards the ground and catch myself from hitting the sand face first.

I don't know why, tributes from District Three were never renowned for their strength, dexterity or agility for that matter. I sure as hell ain't no Atticus Manor, calloused fingers tight around a spear or an axe and turning on his ally at a moment's notice. Putting his spear through someone's neck in a blaze of red glory and cutting down his district partner and leaving her to bleed in the dirt.

I'm just Ree and I struggle to even handle the weight of sobriety.

Perhaps this fact is why my family of countless numbers never even set foot in the justice building when my gravestone was already built in preparation; no fantasy of a goodbye hug, no thought of a "I'll miss you son," or even so much of a fucking 'good luck'. It hammers home the reality of the disgrace I've become and always will be. Tributes from District Three were never known for their entertainment value, only their tendency to fade away into a footnote of a greater person's victory.

The stars replace the sun and the sobriety chaining my tired feet to the ground become no less loose and no less light. We decide to rest for the night and I allow myself to hit the ground and roll over to face the stars. A week ago I might have called them beautiful and traced the sky to find constellations while I allowed my inside to succumb to chemical rage. I could stay true to myself, never caring if anyone thought I was an idiot for smoking or an even bigger idiot for spending high time looking at the stars with hallucinations dominating my peripheral vision.

Perhaps it's the pressure of sobriety speaking but these stars aren't beautiful, they may as well be hallucinations.

Can anything beautiful exist within here?

A place where I'm forced to give in pieces for something I never appreciated, sober or no. Where sobriety becomes reality and I struggle to even hold my spear steady as my insides bleed shades of pain I spend time taking a stranger's savings away to keep at bay.

There's no distractions and no escape routes. There's no chemicals to sweep me away into a euphoric fantasy. I cannot shut my eyes and try to remember a time where it didn't hurt to simply exist. I push the memory of Lux's hands against my skin because Clem's mangled corpse makes an appearance in the corner of my eye, the hole in Kaiser's throat is more prominent than any bottle and the days of that picture with Titus are long gone, shattered with the thrust of a spear and many sword strokes.

So I let myself shake in silence.

The sky reaffirms that inescapable fact that Kaiser and Lace are dead, along with Kaiser's district partner and Rory, Emberly's district partner who we encountered on the second day. But I remember him as the boy on the rooftop who shared a hit with me and we escaped reality together; good thing he got to try it before he went I suppose. A guy that angry needs a break. "Well shit," I whisper to myself, there's only twelve of us. I keep trembling.

I feel Emberly's hand against mine and the trembling stops and I look down. "No matter what, I'll be here with you, until the end."

"It'll just be the three of us, until the end." I say back, loud enough for the two of them to hear me through this screen of death and despair we crafted over the past four days.

Emberly sleeps but Raquel doesn't.

"Hey, move over." I feel her foot against my shoulder, and I'm jolted back into full awareness so my body shifts over through the sand so there's enough room for the both of us. She lowers herself in the space created and she's just so close, I see her sword at her side, the point through Kaiser's neck and the red patches on her skin. I push them to the back of my mind and focus on the constellations in the sky, mentally telling myself she won't put that sword through my neck. She wouldn't.

I count twelve tributes still moving, eleven tributes between her and home and I'm one of them.

What if she spills a red fountain from my skin without so much as hesitating because she has to.

Her hands move and I almost shut my eyes in anticipation but she speaks so nonchalantly and so casually that any caution dissipates before it has time to fester. "They messed up my face." She grumbles and I almost laugh with a tinge of bitterness. We sit upon piles upon piles of bodies, corpses and skeletons and the I'm just laying here, gazing at her face.

It's a good face, despite what she says.

My hand moves without thinking, thumbs brushing over the marks on her cheeks, the scars slow scars blocking waves trapped beneath her skin from spilling. "Still looks fine to me." I say without thinking, caution shielded beneath exhaustion despite where we are. She almost looks surprised and I don't understand why. "Still looks fine to me." She says and all of a sudden I become aware of the twisting in my muscles, the pain of a solar flare within my chest.

Glasses, grasses -- what's the difference anymore.

"No, what I need is a hit before I trip and fall on my own damn spear." I say honestly, vision fading to anything in the surrounding.

"Don't say that. Don't waste the time you have left." She responds, clearly not amused but I'm too tired, too broken to even care anymore.

I can only speak without a mask, only the truth.

"If I wasn't wasting it what else would I be doing, watching people die?" I say, Rhetoric's head rolling across the beach only two dares prior.

"I guess we don't have much of a choice here if we want to live." Her words ring true, I want to go home.

I let my eyes drift to the sky, vision drifting beneath the weight of concept; any of our faces could be peering behind those false stars next. I don't know how much I care anymore. Ree Fer; never mighty enough to stand on a mountain of corpses. I know I'm just delaying the inevitable -- ("You fucking mess.")

Y'know, I wish we weren't meeting like this." I say mindlessly, I wish I never met any of them I think. I wish I didn't see what I saw, how hands can go from binding the weeping wounds on my back to leaving someone bleeding out in the dirt. How a supernova that gives can go to a black hole that takes in an instant.

She laughs in response. "We wouldn't have met otherwise." She replies and I wonder if she feels the same way as I do.

I laugh at the symmetry of our thinking because it's nice to smile at a time when they come so rarely. "I guess you're right, I'd be getting high in some street somewhere in Three and you'd be doing, well...whatever District Elevens do, I guess." I wonder if she has anyone back home waiting for her, silently begging for her to stick that sword through my chest eventually so they can see her again.

Willing me to die.

"Most of us pick fruit all day." She pauses, letting the sentence hang. "Izars like to cause trouble though. Or at least, the ones I've met." I can only imagine; I can't remember half the names of most of my family anymore.

I just speak the first thin that comes to mind. "I like fruit, and trouble under the right circumstances." I manage a weak smile that tugs at the corners of my lips. Smiling; I'm getting good at it again.

"Well, there's plenty of trouble here for you." I spot her looking around before her faint smile cuts through the darkness. "Fruit, not so much." Unfortunately. I wonder if Raquel would kill me for a piece of fruit.

I spot her fingers twitching, death prominent in her hands.

Oh.

"You okay?" I ask almost automatically, stupid fucking idiot -- never noticing when it counts, even when I'm fucking sober.

It just hurts when she burrows her vision away from me, like I said something wrong.

"I'm fine." Before apologies or reassurances can fall from my lips she moves towards me head rested against the rhythmic rise and fall of my chest and front pressed against my side. "Let's not talk about it, okay?" And for a second I'm stunned into silence at the warmth against my skin, the hurricane rested on my chest.

"Okay," I say, arm wrapping around her automatically and pulling her close. "We won't." I say, every breath pushing fear from the back of my lungs and into the air as she grows heavier and heavier.

I think it feels better than being high.

"Goodnight Ree."

I sleep with a solar flare trapped within my chest and a soft hurricane against my skin.

- ★ -

I am jolted awake by the blaring of the engineers to our madness, and although I do not remember her name I remember the voice of the pretty picture who put this together. Gamemakers, turning us into pawns in their entertainment, puppets to bring their madness to life -- fantasies should stay fantasies.

The word 'feast' rings through the arena and my blood runs cold.

Not even a second to exchange a nervous glance with my allies, we're swarmed by fabrications of innocence Emberly and Raquel carried since the first day. The koala's, innocent beasts, make us move and we do, the three of us together while thousands of colors and thoughts swim around my mind at the possibilities facing us at the cornucopia, the giant volcanic structure in the center of the arena where they lead us.

I don't dare to ask my allies if they're afraid, it seems like it would be a stupid question anyway.

We find ourselves in the center of it all with nine other tribute's in our way. I spot Titus in the corner of my eye and my chest swells. "There's only one way this is gonna end," I say to Emberly and Raquel, keeping my eyes trained on the gifts to aid our survival.

"I promised you until the end," Emberly says, her hand dropping to her weapon and my calloused fingers tighten around my spear in response. "I meant it."

I'm desperate, death fills my bones and the hunger for a euphoric fantasy overrides any semblance of rationality I clung to by a thread. This isn't how we're supposed to go and this isn't how I picture 'the end' when me and Emberly spoke the night prior; on this volcanic structure, sobriety a ball and chain around my ankle as I drag myself across this plane in a desperate attempt to regain what was lost and numb the pain that leaves my chest hollow.

I just need the final fantasy coupled with euphoria and colored smokescreens that drives me to keep my pulse steady and my heart thudding within my empty chest.

How could I forgive myself if I fell with chains of sobriety tethering me to the ground?

(I won't)

We’re everyday robots in control
Or in the process of being sold
Driving in adjacent cars
'Til you press restart

[ree fer enters the feast]

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

{ walherich cnáimhín ; "i know i'm only passing through."

Walherich knew that this unity wouldn’t last forever. It never does, and it can’t. It’s come down to what he’s counted to twelve. Twelve people. Eleven more have to die before he can even get a shot of even glimpsing home. Unity had never last in this embodiment of graves. It was like a permanent tattoo. Something that defines you for a short amount of time and you wear it on your shoulder. People can see it. They can read it. They can wash it away by a simple swipe. It’s your name, your group. It’s what claims your loyalty.

no wonder alliances break apart so easily; water can break them apart.

The male glanced over to Wendell.A scowl appeared on his face for a second, but it soon went away as he looked at Cam. Looking at her brought upon a frown. So he looked down at the camera, back up to the sky. The male looked all around him and it felt quiet in that odd sliver of the night infesting his thoughts. Head had been placed on his knees and his arms wrapped around his legs, hugging them close. It was a serene scene that he was fond of but gave little to no thought of. The night was something that enveloped him easily, and that he let them do. It gave him an escape from the world - a short break.

Not that he gave much thought to that escape, though. Who’d ever question escaping their nightmares?

-

The morning was separate from normal. Which meant that something not normal was about to arise. He wasn’t sure what. Was Wendell going to die today--

{good.

A voice inside of his head whispered a praise at the idea and he shut the praise down immediately. He may not care for the male, he may not even like him. That doesn’t mean he has to wish death upon them. They were his ally and that means they were protecting him (or they were just using him to protect themselves). You don’t need to agree with everything they say or do. Why should you? That’s two totally different people and two totally opposite brains.

{no shit, dumbass. you two fight more than a couple.}

Okay, fine. Walherich doesn’t give a damn about Wendell. He wouldn’t give a fuck if they died. Ever since day one he’s had a problem with the man and the moment he leaves Wendell is the moment he throws this damned - this horrid tooth necklace away. Why would he want such a thing? It was literally the teeth of his enemies. Wendell was obsessed with carving things out of the bodies of others and it was quite frankly disgusting. Whatever though. He was a killer so Walherich couldn’t expect much other than that, couldn’t he?

A voice jolts throughout the arena, a voice familiar to the one he had heard in the past. They were inviting everyone to a feast of sorts. It seemed like an invitation and that they didn’t necessarily have to go. However soon after the announcement had concluded, koalas had started jumping down from the trees nearby and guiding us. Directing us. Moving us to a new spot, and it was clear that they wanted some more action in this graveyard today.

Hopefully, Walherich wouldn’t become the next skeleton to enter the graveyard.

{or as some would say, let’s hope nobody bones me.}

He learned a few terms from his father and found it a nice choice of words to use for this situation. It was just breaking bones. Totally. Or that’s what his father told him when he was seven and the male believed it ever since. He held a childish grin upon his face as he entered the small circular landform that could be landmarked by the cornucopia standing in the center with a large table.

{let’s bone some bitches.}

He didn’t know what he was doing, because he wasn’t him. Death does things to you. It changes you. In ways good or bad, really, and it depends on how they take the death that’s been presented to them. For Walherich, death prepared him for more. It prepared him to claim it.

"Too bad we all can't live. Let's save our own skins guys in place of theirs."

At least they could agree on something now. Doesn’t mean he didn’t hate the bitch anymore though.

[wally enters]

[Knuckles]

C H E S T E R .

Watching Wendell walk away from him was probably one of the hardest things he had done. It wasn't about losing a friendship. Twelve was the enemy, and Chester had the chance to strike him down. And he would have had it not been for Teddy waiting. The risk wasn't worth it because in that very moment someone needed him. Teddy was more than just another tribute, he was a brother, someone Chester cared for almost more than himself. But he was sure he would see Wendell again. If they didn't meet up anytime soon, perhaps his face would flash through the sky as the anthem played.

Taking a deep breath, he walked away keeping his eyes wide, and his ears tuned in listening for any sound of the man returning for a fight. Chester did tell him to go ahead and kill him, so why not take him up on the offer? It would've been as simple as that. Pretend to walk away, then turn around when his back was turned. It was the perfect plan, but that didn't happen.

A sigh of relief escaped his chest.

Navigating his way through the forest after the moon slowly appeared in the sky was becoming slightly difficult. It was nearly impossible to figure out where he was and where he had been. But living in the forest back home in seven made it a little easier. Figuring out which trees were what, finding the paths, all of that aided him.

The night sky hid the smile twisting across his face when his eyes finally rested on those of his friend, but soon his heart sunk deep into the pits of his stomach -

"Wendell's right you know. You should just leave me."

From the sound of it, Teddy had heard them talking, and he heard Wendell's proposal. The idea of leaving him never once crossed his mind, and yet he felt like had no other options right now. Why abandon Teddy when he needed him the most? They had been through so much.

Was it all for nothing?

He took another deep breath trying to keep the mask spread across his face. Only once had he let it slip away, and even then he didn't mean to.

The thought of leaving Teddy was crushing him. His heart was bleeding, but now it clawed at his ribs begging for an escape. It felt as though the world stopped moving, and time froze. Trying to find the words to say wasn't easy. Agreeing would make him the man he swore to Wendell he wouldn't become, and staying would make him the man who was loyal to his friends. "I'm not leaving you to die, Teddy."

Even if it killed him, Chester would help him. Teddy deserved a fighting chance, and giving that up wasn't worth it. He helped Chester find himself, and he made the brute of a man realize life wasn't filled with angry, hateful people.

"You should leave mt to die, if it means you'll live, Chester."

The weight of the world slowly pressed down against his shoulders, his knees buckled, and if it wasn't for the cane holding most of his weight, Chester would've toppled over. When he volunteered, it had been about winning. About claiming the crown at the end of the game. And now it was so much more than that. He found friends for the first time in his entire life despite being placed in a hostile environment.

Yes, Teddy would have to die for him to make it out alive, and Chester knew that. But now wasn't the time to separate.

If he left Teddy, and his face appeared in the sky, Chester would never forgive himself.

Why keep him?

Why not throw him to the wolves?

Everyone deserves a chance.

"I can't lose you. Not now. Even if I die, I want to give you a fighting chance."

It felt like his words fell on deaf ears. Was it that hard for Teddy to understand? Was there an ulterior motive Chester wasn't aware of? He turned down a deal for a whole alliance to return to Teddy. Even if it only lasted another day, Chester needed to know he was okay. Leaving him somewhere in the rain forest hadn't been his ideal plan, but it happened, and the thought of something happening to him while he was gone, tormented him.

Nothing happened, though.

"I never had a fighting chance in the first place, big guy. I'm from District Six. We don't exactly have that great of odds anyways. I'm as good as gone."

It was day two. The fight carried on, and he took blow for blow, but he didn't give up. Even when he thought he was as good as dead, he carried on. Not for himself, but for those around him. They needed him just as much as he needed them. But none of that mattered anymore. People had died, and Chester lost track of all the cannons and faces in the sky.

Rhetoric died standing up for him.

Rory died keeping a secret.

Teddy was there. He witnessed it all, but right now, Chester felt himself falling.

Sliding down a tree, he placed himself on the ground next to his friend. Not because standing was getting hard, but because maybe it would help him out more. Maybe making eye contact would do some good. "Brothers don't leave brothers behind."

Leaving Rhetoric behind when she fell tore at his soul. Leaving Rory behind devoured him. They were his family inside this awful place. Family didn't matter in the dog eat dog world.

"I deserve to be left behind. I couldn't hit anyone. I couldn't save Rory like I couldn't save Rhetoric. I don't deserve you."

A brick slammed into the side of his face.

I don't deserve you.

Every hair on his body stood tall as he loosened his grip on the cane. He was just a helpless boy sitting on the ground wanting too much. The words hurt much worse than they probably should've, and in the blink of an eye, he was the small child sitting in his parents house. 'I wish you were never born!'

After all they had been through, it was for nothing.

He didn't understand the meaning of it - why was Teddy doing this? Did he want him to run away and pretend like they never met? Perhaps Chester was the biggest mistake to the puzzle all along. It was his fault Rory died. It was his knife that spilled Dandy's blood. It was his attack that caused Lorenza to fall. It was his district partner that killed Rhetoric.

It was his fault his parents hated him.

It was his fault they died.

And now he was stuck in the same situation as before.

Maybe I am the worthless mistake like mother and father told me.

For the moment, all he could hear was the rushing of wind in his ears as several emotions tore through his brain, and the honking of the birds didn't help the matter - they only seemed to make it worse. A lump sat awkwardly in the back of his throat, and no matter how many times he swallowed, it wouldn't go away.

But he had to break the silence before it stayed that way forever.

"Teddy, please listen to me. I'm not leaving you behind You've taught me friendship. Yes, Rory and Rhetoric are dead, but me and you are here. We're alive. As long as we're both alive, I'm going to fight for us both. For me and for you. In honor of Rory and Rhetoric." His voice wasn't as strong as he wished for, and for the second time the mask came off. It wasn't worth fighting over. It wasn't worth begging with the stubborn man like he begged with the bird. It wouldn't matter. Nothing would change.

So why stay?

Why care when Teddy didn't care?

Why make himself fight for someone who didn't want him?

Teddy was a brother, and Chester refused to give up on despite all that was happening.

"I'll fight for you. I'll be your shield. Sacrifice me for yourself if it comes to it."

Something inside him snapped. A shield wasn't what he wanted. Even on the first night when Teddy offered it before, Chester refused, and he sure as hell was going to refuse it now. If anything he would use himself to shield Teddy. The kid deserved it so much more than he did, and even if he was adamant about not receiving the help, Chester would make sure he was safe. Teddy had done more for him in the few days they had been together, than anyone had in his entire life.

That bond didn't deserve to go to waste.

But right now it felt like it was falling apart.

"I'm not sacrificing you to save my life. Rory died because he was accused of killing Dandy. He died because of me. I should be dead. Not him. Me." He tried keeping himself together, but his words cracked because it was the truth. Chester should've died in Rory's place, but he was alive. "You're my brother no matter what, and even if it kills me, I'll have your back forever."

By now, Chester should've realized his attempts were futile - they weren't going to work. Teddy had already made up his mind, and it was up to Chester to let go. To move on. To pretend like this was for nothing.

How?

How could he forget something like this?

Simple - he wouldn't.

"You have a better chance of getting home than I do. You'll need to let me go at some point, Chester."

He was done fighting. Done trying to convince his friend otherwise. It wasn't going to work, and the statement was true - Chester knew it, but right now he didn't need to hear it. Why give up on someone who gave him a life? Hope? Friendship?

"Right now I got you, and I won't let go until I absolutely have to." He sighed, "Can you do the same?"

"Yes, I can do the same."

It was a simple agreement, and Chester left it at that. Nothing else was needed.

When the anthem played, he actually paid attention. Lorenza and Rory he knew would appear, but he didn't expect to see the Fray boy. They had a name to uphold, and Chester was simply amazed that two careers died that day. One died the same day as Dandy - if he did his math correct only three remained, but his math wasn't the best.

Teddy, however, wasn't doing well.

And when he cuddled up to Chester, he didn't move. It wasn't like the first night when he fought him away. Right now it was something he needed. A small sense of hope that the bond wasn't broke.

Chester stayed awake all night long keeping watch so nobody would hurt him or his friend.

But as the sun rose into the sky, it wasn't the sound of tributes that startled him. No, it was the sound of a gamemaker inviting them to a mandatory feast. Bad things happened during feasts. Plenty of people died, and apparently the death count wasn't up to par. Or maybe they were mad at the chicken from a couple days ago.

Still, Chester sat frozen until Teddy rose.

Dark eyes watched as his ally put on the peg leg. It wasn't the best thing in the world, but it offered him a chance to walk. Crawling into battle didn't work out for some of the past tributes, but that wasn't the case now, and carrying Teddy into the feast would only hinder Chester's work. Just like Wendell mentioned. But he put the thought away.

Leaves shook, and branches cracked, and all around him, his gaze landed on hundred of koalas. Their purpose was unknown, but then Teddy suggest following them. Perhaps it was the best to follow them. Maybe this was the gamemakers way of telling them they were moving too slow.

Step by step he climbed the volcano.

Back to the beginning, and this time it was for the half time show.

"We shouldn't have followed them, Chester."

He couldn't agree more, but before he had the chance to speak, his eyes locked on Wendell then bounced from tribute to tribute.

"What's up Teddy, Muscles."

Each breath caught in the back of his throat. They were in for a treat, and no matter what happened right now, Chester couldn't run away. It was too late, and the idea of fighting in a feast scared him as much as the bloodbath did, but he pulled the mask across his face and gave everyone a blank stare. Nobody needed to know what went on inside his skull. The thoughts the emotions. All of it only tore at his soul -

Something soft and wet pressed against the side of his cheek, and his entire body went stiff. "Just in case, if I die here." Chester glared at Teddy before taking a step away.

What the fuck was that? He wanted to ask, but some words were best left unsaid, and this was one of those moments because it would show weakness, and with all the other tributes gathered around, that was the last thing on his mind.

table by briar <3

Chester enters the feast

[pup]

{ cameron dialate ; "'cause i wanna know that i'm steady on my feet."

As we fall asleep, Wendell watching over us, I shiver in fear for another sleepless night, the dark circles under my wary eyes growing larger and larger as I stay still, struggling to stay awake and appear asleep with Wendell watching over us. I can't let him kill us in the night. I can't let him kill us in the night. I can't let him kill us in the night.

My shattered mind repeats that over and over again, my eyes closed and yet wide open as I keep my breathing steady. Walreich looks as though he is doing the same as I "drift to sleep," but I know that he wouldn't trust Wendell to watch over his dead body.

The anthem roars to life, and I can't bring myself to look at the sky I was so close to being a part of. It was too close, and I can't bring myself to look at the face of my victim, the boy I killed.

In District Five, killing wasn't necessary. In here, I have killed over and over again, with each strike my mind fracturing a little bit further to the insane abyss that has encompassed everyone since the countdown to death began. That same abyss that threatens to swallow everyone whole like the phantom that had reached into our minds during the bloodbath, warping them to turn us into animals.

Patricia had told me to become a vicious animal.

I have become worse.

I killed Gregor, running away from his body laying cold in a boat. I killed the creature that attacked us, it's hind wrapped around my shivering body, it's heart that Wendell tore out stuffed unceremoniously into my bag. I killed Rory, the boy who threatened my life while taunting the bully. I shouldn't have killed him. I should have let myself be killed if that meant the possibility of Wendell gaining one more enemy.

I'm not sure my life is worth letting Wendell go back home to where he will torment more. When he is dead, my corpse can rest easy.

Speak of the devil.

I hear him muttering as the anthem ends, his words like cold fire scorching my mind as he repeats how we are lucky to be alive.

I should be dead.

I'm weak.

---

The morning comes, a bright light in the darkness reaching my sleep deprived eyes, my orange hair burning unlike my slowly dying body.

I stay quiet as Wendell and Walreich speak to each other. I don't know why they let me hang around this long. It would be easier to slice my head off and get it over with, but I think Wendell likes toying with his food before he eats it. Throwing the heart at me was just a part of his game, and my display of viciousness as I skinned the creature to wear around me is obviously not enough for him.

There is an invitation.

I don't want to go.

I go, following my allies who I thought only a few days ago to be actual friends.

They aren't, though.

I am a meat shield, a means to an end.

I guess I will do what I do best today, take damage for them, to have my body sliced and torn open just like yesterday, so that they can remain safe. I don't want Wendell to be safe, though. My only purpose now is to make sure Wal can go home. I know I won't be leaving this paradisehellhole anytime soon.

---

I see them.

They are all here.

My fellow walking corpses.

My fellow tributes.

My enemies.

I nod to the witch, remembering her failed seance to bring back the boy I killed. "Heya, Witch." My voice is soft, raspy from dehydration.

"You! You’ve still got your life line intact, do ya?" Her voice is more lively than mine, obviously protected from the damages that I have gone through. I wonder who her meat shield is.

I can remember as I cut my hand in the training center, my life line was cut, and I know as I stare into her brown eyes that the witch's prediction was right. It's my time to die. As long as Wendell doesn't.

My green eyes travel farther down the pack of tributes, all rearing their weapons just like me. My cutlass is a gleaming reflection of the slowly rising sun as I raise it in protection. I can see other tributes eyes locked onto my wounds from yesterday. I am the weakest, and they can sense that.

I know the witch knows that I will die today.

I see him standing nearby, he's still alive from yesterday. "Thought I wouldn't be seeing you this soon." I say to him. If I die, I hope Teddy survives so that he can go back to district six, so that he can survive the restless nights that he spoke to me about what seems to be ages ago on that rooftop.

No more nightmares.

Just rest.

It will come to me soon enough.

I see Hero, the boy from four.

He taught me to swim, but I know I am beginning to quickly drown, water filling my lungs ever faster.

Wendell taunts them, and I feel a shake of panic.

He wants to kill them.

I know that even if we survive this, he will kill me soon enough.

Maybe I should start kissing everybody goodbye.

There's still that chance, though, no matter how slim as the tributes sniff the air like a pack of sharks closing in on the blood, and I can't float to the top to escape them any longer.

^{[<333 ty briar]}

[Cam Dialate Enters Feast]
GL y'all <333

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

ADELAIDE

Hero Marvay tells me a story of a gentler life than I’ve ever known. When he speaks, I close my eyes and I think I can hear the waves lapping. But then he asks about my life back home. In the darkness behind my closed eyelids, I can see it all – the smoggy air, the alley I lived in for a year, the rescue I so willingly took, the vial of poison tipped back over my mouth. I open my eyes to brilliant sunshine and a view of the entire tropical arena where I’ve buried my friends.

“Not much different than this, wouldn't you know it?"

Hero presses me. His voice is drowned out by Nob and Komala’s claws clacking. They’ve found my purse. I sigh. It will be a mess if I don’t stop them soon but there’s something in the rhythm of the waves, the intensity of Hero’s eyes that makes me stay put. The Fates' hook and lure is so strong I can barely stand it. Even the claw against my cheek has started to burn. "I don't think this is the part in the story when the Hero finds about Her past. You'll just have to ask me again tomorrow, Hero Marvay. Don't come to shore tonight. I'll keep watch for you." I drop the lobster claw and chase after my koalas.

A-tumbling they go, rolling end over end down the face of the mountain. I throw what’s left of my things in the canoe and look once more over the caldera. The sun is setting. I’ve no goodbyes to make today.

I jump into the canoe and zip meerily down.

My tangled hair knots behind me and tears stream from the corners of my eyes.

The canoe skims along the Flows, glancing off the edge and ditching me into a thicket of weeds. Nob scurries just ahead, carrying the Hawaiian shirt I’d been airing out. By the time I pounce on him and make Komala show me where she’s hidden my ‘treasures’ it’s night again. The roll of the drum precedes the show.

I am not at all prepared to see his face again.

Kaiser Fray, the boy I spoke to.

Kaiser Fray, the boy I cursed.

All the words shoved in my mouth suddenly taste of bitter poison. My stomach cramps. I try to fight it but the words, the curses, they have to come out. I lean over the side of the canoe and wretch spittle and stringy bile.

I should have taken my vow of silence for him.

I pinch my lower lip with as many fingers as I can cram into my mouth. I shut my eyes against the tears and for a moment try to remember the taste of Kaiser Fray; it's the only life I can give him now. The tang of blood and a little wash of sweetness. I kiss my finger tips and fling them to the stars.

Though the anthem is long over, I turn my back on the sky and drag my canoe. I cannot go to the sea; Hero is there. I cannot go to the Flows or Forest or Springs or Beach; Teddy and Lux are there. I come quite suddenly to a halt. Perhaps there is only one place in the arena where I can be alone and I’ve just abandoned it.

The weeds give way to soft earth and a boy I know all too well. The Fates claim me, force my mouth open and yank the words from my lungs: “someone once told me self is a sea, boundless and endless. I bid you feel the ocean within yourself. Know that you are never alone and your grief can only make the ocean deeper.” I wheeze, suddenly freed of their puppet mastery. Now there’s just a boy, and me. The giddy feeling of freedom fills me head to toe. “And if that doesn’t help, you can always punch something, right?”

“Right?”

I think he knows me, truly. I grin. “Well then!”

I’ve found my second wind, as they say. The Lost Boy trails behind me, the koalas ranging ahead. I’m so pleased to have found someone else, even someone who has – no, not that path, Adelaide, there lies ruin – and I feel so full and happy and light and joyful and when I stumble, I simply let myself fall to the ground into a deep sleep.

"Addy, wake up. I think they want us to follow them."

Boom.

I push against the earth, wobble a little as the lobster attached to my calf changes my balance, and then rise to my feet. For a moment I don’t know where I am – I hardly even know who I am. And then the Lost Boy comes into focus and I recognize the sound of Komala keening. As soon as her beady eyes find mine, she scuttles up the mountain side.

I look up at the lip of the bowl and grumble. “Whatever lesson you’re trying to teach me about not second guessing myself or staying the course, I don’t want to learn it, Charlie.”

I step behind the canoe and push. Titus helps, some, and sometimes he wanders away. I don’t think he quite knows himself any more either. It’s too tiresome of work to talk and I haven’t seen Nob all morning which undoubtedly means my purse is lighter (and oh I have to admit I’m worried about the little bugger, too) and suddenly the canoe dips over the lip and we’re confronted with – everyone.

“Hero!” I squeal, all sense of decorum lost. I grab Titus’ hand and drag him right over. “This is, uh,” I drop my voice. “Quick tell me your name.” As he does, I look over Hero’s shoulder at none other than Luxa Pelotte. I release Titus to take a step towards her. I want to touch her face, to feel her tether, but I know she will take another one of my fingers a penance. “Did they take his mask, too?” I whisper, my heart beating a little softer. I'm very careful to look at her, only at her, because I do not want to see the boy standing not far from her -

“Heya, witch.”

I blink wide blue eyes at Cam and then suddenly I remember. “You! You’ve still got your life line intact, do ya?” I can’t help but smile at her. Maybe, just maybe, she’s proof that I haven’t been wrong about everything.

THROES

[Adelaide enters the Feast.]

[Tom]

[presto][/presto]

► ► ►

All he can remember is Chester's words of stopping somewhere for the night.

The pain echoes in his skin like a wave of pain that finds itself going over each nerve end in him. It's different from any sort of pain that he's ever felt. All he wished for was the ability to feel like he was moving his toes again. He wanted to fell the dirt under his left foot as it stepped onto the ground. Everything changed when Wendell's form had come into their lives in the arena. His heart beats as Chester moves into the forest again leaving him all alone with his koalas and pocket whales.

Curse ignores him with an exaggerated sniff. Ashe looks confused as she wraps more into his neck. Ring just clings to his chest, tighter like the world was going to give up on them. Mo pats her hand into his neck as if asking if he's okay. He wasn't okay. How could he ever be okay? All he does is let out tears. He bites his lip barely as he leans back against a tree of sorts, the sweat on his forehead slowly falling down. The blood that was coming from his leg stops slowly as he winces still from the exposure to air.

Pain.

It's all he could feel now.

His bottom lip is bitten into by himself to ease whatever pain he can. He's already taking his shirt off to try and put under what's missing just in case of the excess blood that comes out of him. He groans in pain for a second, but tries to stay quiet. People could be anywhere, waiting for him to make a sound to impale him with a weapon. Cut him open with a blade. Smash him in with every blunt object they have. All he could do was groan quietly as he watches a sponsorship come to him.

It's like the capitol heard his cries of pain.

"Fucking thanks."

Ma would have smacked him upside the head for cussing. Though, maybe she would make an exception for him if she could see him missing a leg and shaking in pain and sorrows, she would let him. Just that once though. All he can do is open the medical kit with supplies inside and begin patching up what wounds he can on his own. The pain subsides for a moment when he can feel his own heartbeat in his chest echoing against his ribs and leading to a throbbing in his head.

That's when he can hear Wendell and Chester, not too far away from where he was. It only took a moment for the words to sink into his ears. An offer to go join Wendell's alliance, but Chester refused for Teddy. He refused for a District Six who didn't have a fighting chance in the slightest. Chester was growing too attached to Teddy like Teddy was to Chester. Tears seem to come to his eyes, but he quickly wipes them away as he knows what he has to say to his friend, his brother, and his savior.

The words leave his lips with a small voice.

"Wendell's right you know. You should just leave me."

Death would come for him, one day soon. There's no saving Teddy from dying twice. Escaping death twice is as unlikely as it is for Teddy to win. All he can do is feel his hands playing with the edge of his open shirt. Chester needed to not grow attached. Chester needed to learn that he'd be okay without Teddy in the end. Teddy needed Chester to use his death as a reason to fight and not let go of himself. All he could do was listen to Chester tell him what he would expect.

"I'm not leaving you to die, Teddy."

There's a choked silence that comes to his throat. Eyes wander up to the tree he's leaning against. The green glows with the setting sun and the bark is hard to the touch, but he doesn't care too much. Chester was breaking inside. Teddy could feel it. Tears threaten to leave Teddy's eyes, but he's cried too much. He's broken in every way. All he could hear was his mother's voice in his ears. Worthless.

It's all he could be, even when fighting for his own life.

He still wants to know who he was.

The good things that he must of had in his life.

He wants to remember.

"You should leave me to die, if it means you'll live, Chester."

Live, Chester. Just live.

Ever since they called his name, Teddy knew what would be in store for him. Death and pain. The struggles of the other tributes on his shoulder. The one thing that he hadn't expected was the friends that he'd make in the games. The people who held him up and kept him from falling into whatever pit of despair there was. He was fighting for them and for his past self. He might of been worthless to others, but to everyone else, he was something more than just a pathetic boy who lost his memories.

He was a fighter who gave it all when it came to dying.

He's escaped death once.

He's escaped a fading memory once.

He would escape death for another day, if it meant Chester gets the chance to live.

He'd be Chester's shield like he promised to be day two.

"I can't lose you. Not now. Even if I die, I want to give you a fighting chance."

Chester wouldn't die. Chester wouldn't die before him. Chester was going to live. He'd make it out of their hell and into the real world where he could be crowned as a victor and live a life. He'd have kids, a partner, and a home that would love him. Nothing would change his mind. A fighting chance was all Teddy ever wanted, but without a leg, there wasn't much chance left.

Heron Kimberling may have made it out without legs, but that was a one in a million chance.

No one else has. Bran Wolfe had perished in the 62nd. Ivar Hammerfell couldn't escape the swarm without his legs. Teddy Ursa would just be attached to the list of people who didn't have legs that never managed to make it out of the arena. He wanted to believe that Chester could give him a fighting chance, but it was him who needed to give Chester a fighting chance.

District Six was a loss. Tributes that come from Six never made it out. It's been decades. District Six's that never made it out. Some had come close, but no one could make it out of the arena. He'd die like the rest of them. He'd join them in whatever afterlife came after life. He was screwed from the start because of his number. There's no escape for District Six.

"I never had a fighting chance in the first place, big guy. I'm from District Six. We don't exactly have that great of odds anyways. I'm as good as gone."

The big guy comes to the ground to his eye level. Teddy feels his skin shudder in company, but he ignores it. He feels his eyes water for a second, but forces himself to stay composed. There's nothing that Chester could do for him. He was a lost cause that held a name that only few would remember.

Chester then speaks straight into him like he could feel Teddy's soul stirring. It's almost pleasant, if it wasn't for the feeling of pain in his left leg, where he so badly wanted to move his toes, but there wasn't anything there. All he can do is stare at Chester as he listens to his words.

"Brothers don't leave brothers behind."

Teddy doesn't know why anymore.

He doesn't know why he's doing this anymore, he's only tearing Chester apart on the inside. He's tearing pieces of what he's helped create within Chester apart by the seams. All he can do is slam a hand into tree behind him. He lets tears come to his eyes as he can remember watching Rory fall. The way that Rhetoric had fallen. He remembers how Lorenza had fallen and he cheered in his head. The faces in the sky would only stir up more in his chest.

"I deserve to be left behind. I couldn't hit anyone. I couldn't save Rory like I couldn't save Rhetoric. I don't deserve you."

He didn't deserve him.

Chester deserved to live and if that meant Teddy had to die, then Teddy had to die for him. All he can feel is the desire to not give up in his chest and he wouldn't. He'd fight as long as he could. Fear of killing someone still deep down in his chest as he was never the violent type, but in their world, he had to be the violent type in order to survive. He's learned this from the leg that was now gone. A reminder of the fuck up that he had caused. Lorenza had been the start of his downfall. What would come next, he'd never know. All he did know was that Chester had more of a chance than he did at going home.

"Teddy, please listen to me. I'm not leaving you behind You've taught me friendship. Yes, Rory and Rhetoric are dead, but me and you are here. We're alive. As long as we're both alive, I'm going to fight for us both. For me and for you. In honor of Rory and Rhetoric."

He'd fight for them all, but he couldn't let Chester get lost if Teddy died.

He couldn't let Chester suffer if he was gone.

"I'll fight for you. I'll be your shield. Sacrifice me for yourself if it comes to it."

A shield that would be remembered by them all, but Chester didn't want that. He can feel their bond. Teddy knew how much Chester meant to himself and how much he meant to Chester. That's why he couldn't let him suffer if it came to it. That's when he heard Chester speak.

"I'm not sacrificing you to save my life. Rory died because he was accused of killing Dandy. He died because of me. I should be dead. Not him. Me."

It wasn't true. Teddy should have died instead. Then Rory would have had a better chance than Teddy did. Teddy was the one who couldn't walk anymore, or at least in a normal way.

"You're my brother no matter what, and even if it kills me, I'll have your back forever."

All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Chester, but he couldn't. He couldn't let Chester win and give in to his emotions, it'd tear them both apart in the end. It'd lead to their demise. Teddy didn't want him to suffer alongside him. Chester deserved so much more in the world. Chester wasn't worthless. Chester was worth never seeing anything ever again. Chester was worth every single star that glowed in the sky. Chester was worth dying for.

"You have a better chance of getting home than I do. You'll need to let me go at some point, Chester."

Chester had given him so much in the past. A will to live and fight. A reason to try and get close to home. A reason to survive for as long as he can. A reason to want to make it to the end with him, so he could give him the best gift he could give. First, he had to get Chester far enough to survive. Teddy would have to live that far too, he wouldn't give up just yet, but if it came down to it. Chester deserved to go home.

"Right now I got you, and I won't let go until I absolutely have to."

A sigh leaves Chester's throat.

"Can you do the same?"

"Yes, I can do the same."

---

The sky lights up with the faces of the dead.

It's the sound that he's heard so many times before.

The first face comes across the sky.

Lorenza Aita stares down at him with cold dead eyes. She deserved to die for killing Basil. Basil deserved so much more in the world. She had people back home who wanted her to come home. He had no one left. They were dead or didn't want him. All he can do is run a hand through his hair. That's when the second face shocks him into his shell.

Kaiser Fray is staring down at him.

He can remember the touches on his skin after training self defense. Whoever had the nerve to take him down must be a killer born within the arena. He couldn't even remember who was left in their games. He couldn't remember how many had died and how many had lived. Kaiser Fray was a shock in his skin. He wanted him to live to be able to see he had killed Lorenza. He wanted him to see that Teddy Ursa had helped kill Basil's killer. Tears fall down his cheeks as he moves his hand over his heart for a second as he holds his breath.

Everything seems to be falling, so he was expecting the next face to be Adelaide's, but instead it was Glacia's.

A small breathe of relief comes to his skin as he lets himself remember Glacia's attacks on Hei Hei.

Then Rory comes to the sky and Teddy forces himself to look away. He doesn't want to cry anymore. He doesn't want to forget Rory, but he wants the last image in his head of Rory to be him dying to fuel him for when Cam came for him. There's no escape from the felling of falling in his life. He's fallen all the time throughout his life. He fell when his father struck him. He fell when the injury that caused him to forget so much had come to him. He had fallen when his Ma died in an accident where authorities had no clue of who had killed her.

All he could do was fall, but that's when he moves towards Chester.

Eyes gleaming in the dark as Teddy moves his arms around Chester's torso. His head relaxes onto Chester's chest. Tears come from his eyes as he moves into him more, for warmth and for his own comfort. It's a moment that keeps him grounded enough to fall asleep for the night.

Teddy Ursa falls asleep in Chester's arms.

The stars gleam down at them as Teddy dreams of a time where he wasn't breaking.

---

Morning comes with the heat and Teddy untangles from Chester first.

No need to frighten Chester anymore than he's done before. Eyes catches the peg leg that lays next to him, All he can do is wonder how he should go about it. It was gonna be painful, but the blood stopped on it's own. A clean sever of the skin and all Teddy can think of is taking off his shirt. He wraps it and ties it over his bandages. A shirtless Teddy uses the tree to stabilize himself, the broken leg still hurts, but it's enough that he can walk on it now.He ties the sleeves to keep the shirt tight on his leg.

The peg leg fits to what he has left perfectly.

It was meant for him, but it still stung so much.

It was worth it if he could walk again without any assistance.

Curse and Ashe were the first thing he realized after putting on the peg leg. Both were gone, but he knew they would be. The koalas whined about Ashe being alone since she had gotten there. All he imagined was that Curse, being the eldest and probably the one who has had the most children, took her to the koala village that he had found in the forest. Understanding the reasoning and why Teddy wasn't upset were two different things, but he ignores the guilt in his chest.

It wasn't his fault.

Even thought it pained him, they were safer in that little village than anywhere else.

That's when Chester and him get up to koalas standing near them. They seem to want to lead them somewhere and Teddy lets out a chuckle as he speaks to Chester.

"Let's follow them!"

They follow the koalas up the mountain back to where it all begin. He can feel the heat from the temperature and the lava that hides somewhere. It felt like the land of black glass once again. Eyes glance around as he can see Chester is there with him, but they aren't alone. They never were alone anymore, until night came.

There were so many others. Ten others besides Chester and Teddy. He can feel himself let out a breath as he speaks to no one in general and more to himself. The koalas that had led them there were gone now. All that was left were ten items and twelve tributes. He knew what that would mean. He knew what it would mean.

"We shouldn't have followed them, Chester."

His words are cut off by a voice he was tired of hearing already.

"What's up Teddy. Muscles."

Teddy groans out to the world as he can see Wendell, Wal, and Cam standing there. Off in the distance is Adelaide who avoids looking at him and he understands why. No one would want to look at the thing Wendell has done to him. Wendell had caused his wound. All Teddy could do was huff as he turns towards the male with a small smile on his face. Peg leg making noise as it touches the hard ground. His voice finds its way out.

"You know, just hobbling here. Don't want to fight. I'd rather be taking a nap and letting my leg heal, but death comes for us all, one day."

Cam is the next voice he hears over the place.

"Thought I wouldn't be seeing you this soon."

A chuckle leaves his throat and he still hates them, but he's too annoyed to really care what people will think.

"Thought so too, but I guess Amethyst had other ideas."

Eyes wander to others as he can name them.

Cam. Wal. Wendell. Laide. Hero. Lux. Titus. Ree. Emberly. Raquel. Chester. Himself.

Twelve.

That's all that were left in their games. Twelve people with different beliefs and different experiences.

All he wants to do is not fight. All he wants is a break from the violence that came with the games, but he stays silent. Eyes watching them all as he moves to Chester. Eyes scanning over him, Teddy feels himself growing cautious. All he does is move as high as he can. Eyes scan over Chester's cheek, until Teddy places his lips softly to Chester's cheek.

A whisper in his lips and a flutter of his eyelashes.

"Just in case, if I die here."

He's broken.

He's tearing.

He's weak.

He's not going to give up though.

He's not scared of death, but what's left behind.

Teddy wouldn't let himself go just yet.

He had promised Chester that he wouldn't let go.

Teddy always kept his promises.

--

{ Perhaps hopeless isn't a place
Nothing but a state of mind }

{Teddy hobbles into the Feast.}

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

LUX PELOTTE


 

I lie awake talking to the koalas, slowly kissing goodnight my sanity. Perhaps it's for the best—sometimes the insane are the ones who live. I watch the moon float up into the dark night before slowly drifting off, feeling the fur of the bears rub against my neck and leg. There is a sense of comfort in not being alone; I don't have Jacob anymore and I don't know if I'll ever have Hero again because he could be—

—I don't let myself think about the worst. Admittedly, I know that it is coming and I have to be ready for it when it does, but it will feel too soon. Besides, what if I'm the one who crushes his chest, forcing his ribs to spike his heart? What if I'm the one that makes him bleed out, leaving him to die a cruel death alone where the waves wrap him up and swallow him whole? I shake my head. People in the Capitol would love it; I may be a girl of few morals but I know better than to kill the closest thing I have to home.

My worries are amplified when the anthem's tune rings through the sky. Eyes peeled; I dedicate myself to finding faces that are not Hero's. Steady breaths as the gaunt faces grace the night. One becomes none and Nine and Ten lose half their hope. It's a good thing, for me, at least. Hero is still alive and it means I still have my back covered, it means that the crown is still in reach.

Eyes become heavier and heavier in my head until eventually, I doze off, getting tingles from the gentle pool of hot water and the distant waves caressing the shore.

A loud voice wakes me up. Immediately, I am alert and find myself ready to swing at whatever wants to try it with me this early in the morning. I'm a wreck in the early hours; I glance around for a perpetrator and finds the answer in the sky. It is the voice of the Gamemaker. I want to roll back over and get in a couple more hours of sleep but her words draw me in—she delivers my invitation to the feast and I cannot decline.

I have no choice, but it's okay, I would've chosen to attend anyway.

A small army of little koalas appear from what seems like nowhere, guiding me from the spring into the thick of the arena. Journeying towards the centre, two of my own companions disappear—Amare fades into the forest and I think yes, I hope she fulfils her dream of becoming a qualified nurse. Julia dances away, I swear, she better follow her damn head and not her heart in relation to that crush of hers. I told her that she deserves better and I meant it.

I trace empty footsteps towards death's core until I find myself at the edge of the cornucopia. I remember what my trainer said about feasts; how you have to wait it out and be patient, be calm. But there is a problem: I can't fucking do that when this line of koalas are pushing me out of the dark and into the light. Faces start to emerge whilst I resist their minimal force, but I soon give in and realise that all twelve of us came here for the same reason.

Survival—but it will only be rewarded to some.

I shoot a glance around the remaining tributes. I see Ree and think of being bad a week ago, but I also think of being beyond bad just a few days ago. I murdered his friend and didn't think twice or flinch; it was natural of career to retaliate in such a fashion. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. I took Clementina because they took Jacob, that is how the game works.

I know that murder wouldn't bring Jacob back, not today or tomorrow or at any point in the future. I lost part of the place I belonged that day and so I acted out of desperation and anger; two days on and I taste the blood on my tongue still, mixed with a need to belong again. That is when I see Hero after a day, but after a thousand degrees of separation.

"Managed to survive without me then, huh?" I look him up and down. He looks like he has seen all the seasons come and go within a few hours. Truthfully, he looks a damn mess. "Just, it seems." I chuckle.

A few more faces come closer until there is a small crowd. The crazy-but-beautiful girl from Three comes forwards with one of her friends. I look them up and down too and they don't even look half as bad as Hero does. She comes forwards, eyes locked onto my face and I feel like I'm trapped and there is no way out. Is she okay, is she good?

I'm lost in the moment, her friend and Hero fading into non-existence.

"Did they take his mask, too?"

When she speaks, I don't even hear her but my heart still twists. Her eyes are deep and I'm drowning in them. I was expecting a feast not a snack. 

I find myself after a moment or two, pushing past her to stare at the goods which lie in the middle of the Cornucopia. There's hope, buckets of it, and there is promise too. But above all that: there is life, and that is what I came here for.

I'll kill for it.

Twelve stand in my way. There's Hero and Adelaide, her newfound friend Titus. There is Ree, Emberly and Raquel who seem stronger despite walking on a very fine line with death a few days ago. Beaten and battered, their attitudes are beautiful. Then, I see the faces of Cameron, Walherich and Wendell—I haven't crossed paths with them before but I am quick to check someone when they step out of line, they better not try it with me. Finally, there is Chester and Teddy who look like they have seen the storm come and go.

And then there is me—good girl turned bad girl turned murderer. 

I smirk. The Capitol has done it again.

They've inspired my inner serial killer.

{ lux pelotte enters the feast }

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Hero Marvray

Mind muddled by the booze, Hero set a hand on the lobster that linked him with the tribute across the Arena. Lying back on the sand, he grinned like an idiot for no apparent reason.

"You're here now but where have you been, Rum Rum Hero?"

He wasn't sure how to answer that question, so naturally he said everything that came to mind.

(Naturally.)

"I was on the island, but it seems to be grumbling something awful. I've never known land to do that before, and there are too many people and too many monsters there who keep annoying me, trying to kill me. And no offense, but I figured everyone else would be a bunch of bumbling fools on the water. I'm going to stay here until they make me leave. They'll have to drag me to land, I swear, and -- "

He stopped. This was perhaps the most talking he'd ever done with a stranger, and his face was turning red. Should he trust this lonesome tribute across the Arena? Did he care to worry?

After a brief pause, he decided to keep going. The booze practically made him feel like he was talking to a long lost friend, and it loosened his tongue.

"It reminds me of home, too. I don't want to be too sentimental, you know, because I've got to - " his words jumbled, and he took time to find his way. "I've gotta stay focused, stay alive. But it's like..."

He trailed off, unsure of where that sentence was going. His thoughts jumped around like that, and inevitably they settled in the usual place.

"There are so many things I'm fighting for," he said, trying to organize his thoughts. "Like my Dad - he's this bitter man, you know, and I don't want him to lose anything else. We lost my mom, way back. She drowned. She was always so strong, but the water took her anyway. It happens. I know, it's surprising, but it does. Sometimes the current's too strong for us."

He wanted to run away from the thought, so he surged forward with his memories.

"Then there's Villain. He was at the Reaping with me, and oh god he was nervous. He thought he was gonna be picked, and I kept telling him, 'Dude, you'll be fine, everything will be fine.' We were looking really suave, see, and I stole Villain this fancy hat. He looked good, really good, and I told him that if we were looking so cool, nothing bad could happen. Well, clearly that didn't work out, because here I am. I feel like I lied to him, and I don't like feeling like that. I never lie to Villain."

[-screaming I ran out of time to finish this, so this is a WIP.]

[solo]

if you must fight, fight with yourself
and your thoughts in the night
if you must work, work to leave
some part of you on this earth

One by one, tributes appear, until there's nine, ten, eleven...twelve of us. We're all here. I scan the lot, cautious, grip tightening around the hilt of my sword.

"I promised you until the end." I glance sideways, Emberly's soft voice ringing clear in my ears. Her own sword is held tightly between her small figures, determination written across her features. We're an unlikely bunch, the three of us. But we're fighters. We don't intend to go down easy. "I meant it."

I give her a nod, however cheesy it may be. Anything to get us through this day.

But what happens after today? What happens when we're down to the top eight, or seven or six, and I can't afford to stay with the ones who have kept me safe all week? I don't know. I don't want to think about it. As much as I hate the idea, I know I wouldn't hesitate to run one of them through if it meant I'd get to go home. The thought sickens me and I shove it out of my mind.

Instead, I focus on the present, on the eight tributes we are facing, scattered across the red dome of the Cornucopia. I focus on the adrenaline and the rush and the excitement, despite knowing where I get it from. I never wanted to be like him. I never wanted his bloodlust, his sadistic mind, the way he fought without mercy. I do not want to become Iago. But right now, I'm not sure I have a choice.

I'm distracted by a familiar mop of brown hair, caring eyes with too much compassion and not enough will to survive. Has he made his decision yet? I'll have to ask him about it later.

"Teddy." his name slips past my lips and I take a step forward, forgetting for a moment that he may not be as friendly towards me as he once was. I stop, caution taking priority even though I'm lowering my sword. I have to remember that he's not the only one here. I have to remember that any number of these people could be my enemy, likely the majority of them. But we have a chance. I've been beat up pretty bad the last few days, but I haven't stopped fighting, and I don't intend to stop now.

"I don't suppose we can be friends again?" I smile weakly, tilting my head in the fashion of a curious dog.

My gaze flickers over to Chester. He might've been my friend, perhaps in another life. Now I'm not so sure how he feels about me. "Good to see you Ches." a respectful nod and I turn my blade away from them. I don't want to make any more enemies than I have to.

Instead, I turn to the others around me, the ones who I know would tear me apart the second they get a sense of vulnerability. I spot the girl who killed CLem, and despite not having a deep connection with her, some small flame burns inside of me. I hesitate, unsure what to do at this point. No one has moved and I don't want to be the one to start the fight.

But then there's motion in my peripheral vision, a flash of red hair, and I don't think I have a choice. I lash out on instinct. Timid prey suddenly turning defensive, blade flashing in the sunlight, hungry for the blood that will get me out of this place alive. 

[ attacks Cam Dialate | sword ]

Q0YUVAB0sword

[ result ]

if you live darling one
just l i v e
just l i v e
just l i v e

sword

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

die sehr weite grüne erde
das reiche schöne wasser
the very broad green earth
the rich pretty water

Several others quickly emerge from the fringe of trees and begin to close in on the clearing. A feast — that is what this must be. Emberly's thoughts begin to swim and adrenaline shoots through her veins and builds within her, a flame quickly kindling into an inferno.

She doesn't take a moment to examine each of the tributes, but she catches a glimpse of Wendell, Cameron, and Walherich. On the other side of she and her allies are Teddy and Chester, both who she has faced before. Emberly remembers Rhetoric, how she plunged her sword without a second thought right into her foot, how her blood erupted into the air and spattered onto Emberly's shirt. She still has the blood stains to prove it. Rhetoric had fallen to the ground, and then Clementina —

her heart seems to fold in on itself at the thought of her fallen ally.

Emberly glances down at her shirt. It was once a peachy-pink color, but blood almost completely now covers the frontal side of her shirt. Her backside remains untouched, giving it away that her shirt has not always been deep crimson with black flowers. None of the blood on her is even her own. She has not bled in four days, but she has spilled the blood of others numerous times. She knows that most of the blood is from those she tried to save — McCarthy, Clementina. But with a sinking feeling, she knows who else has stained her shirt.

Rhetoric, Hero, Glacia. She had washed Lace Eon's blood from her blade and her hands, but she could never get it out of her shirt or out of her mind.

Death is something that is not easily expelled. Emberly knew better than most, now.

"Tell . . . tell West . . ." the words of a dying girl echo through her mind, a lost voice that would never find its home again. Lace is gone, and even if Emberly could have heard what she wanted to tell West, it wouldn't change anything.

She wants to be like Clementina — a savior, a guardian, someone who takes life so that others can live. When she killed it was not selfish; she had killed for Ree, for Emberly, and then for Raquel. Emberly wishes that she could lie to herself and force herself to believe that she had killed to save Raquel. But she knows deep down that she did it for selfish reasons, too, that she felt so desperate to go home that she would commit an act she could once hardly comprehend.

Murder. Her mother once told her stories of killers with twisted minds and crooked grins, how they showed no remorse even when they knelt at gunpoint to be executed. And she was one of them — a murderer.

That fact has slowly been tearing her apart on the inside since the moment Glacia Eon's canon fired.

Beside her, Raquel speaks to Chester and Teddy. Emberly finds herself amazed how calm Raquel is, how strong she is; not long ago, Teddy and Chester had tried to kill her.

Emberly nods at Teddy and looks him in the eye. She remembers him as a soft boy, soft like her. She wonders if he has changed as much as she has.

(Deep down, perhaps she is still the sweet animal nurse from District Ten. But right now it doesn't feel like it, not when Emberly's spirit is shattered into a million pieces.)

"I'm sorry about Rory," Emberly says. She remembers with a pang in her chest seeing his face in the sky. "He wasn't my friend, but he was from home." Her voice is as soft as ever, still gentle and sympathetic, but like yesterday, there is something so empty about it. Empty, like the depths of Emberly's once shining copper eyes.

But even with guilt and grief crushing her in a heavy dark wave, Emberly knows what she has to do when the tributes appear in the clearing.

She glances at her allies and then looks back to the other tributes, sweeping her gaze across the clearing. "This isn't going to be very pretty," she says, almost under her breath.

Death does not discriminate — if it did, Gregor and Clementina and Kaiser would still be alive. Perhaps she would be in their place.

She couldn't have come this far for nothing; she will not accept it. Emberly Lowe has taken a life, destroyed and torn apart her innocence. If she dies, Lace's death will be nothing. It is the price she pays just to live another day, a price she must keep paying if she is to go home.

Home — rose-gold sunsets, her family, peach sundresses, long horseback rides through the trails . . . she holds those memories close to her as she draws her sword. Clementina once kept Emberly strong, but it has been two days since she died. She still has Ree and Raquel, but slowly, she begins to latch onto the only thing she knows she can truly rely on — herself, her own inner strength.

There is no shoulder to lean on anymore.

[Emberly Lowe attacks Cam Dialate; The Queen (sword)]
1nnBq5D6sword
[1095 -- Deep Gash on Right Forearm -- 8.0 damage +1 blades]

die grandiose natur sorgt immer noch für ihre kinder
hoffentlich können wir es irgendwann verstehen
the magnificent nature still cares for its children
hopefully one day we'll be able to understand it

. . .

"vogel im käfig" ("bird in a cage") by hiroyuki sawano.

sword