eye of the red storm {ree vs teddy; day 7}

[kousei ♚]

Come sunset I have managed to halt the slurring of my words and instead draw my focus onto the blurring of the words that mark the pages of our story. It sits in the back of our mind, dormant like a molten lava and magma chambers but on the precipice of eruption.

The stars show us their faces -- Hero and Cam.

The echo of Cameron's cannon is all too prominent in the forefront of my mind. The glaive that rests less than a foot away from our tired forms kissed her skin and licked her blood yet the sin of blood on my hands feels as hollow as the promises I carry on my tired shoulders. Before the end came to fruition, me and Hero shared a moment of juvenile delinquency on the rooftop around a can of spray paint and yet the distant memory of my ally's face in the sky on the third day leaves that moment moot. Beneath my quickening heart rate and the tremors passing through my muscles, I manage a smile at the thought of him not finding a key to the cage we kill to escape.

A man who takes, a boy who swings true; I feel no sympathy for the wicked. I turn my gaze up to Emberly, wondering if she feels the same way. A twisting satisfaction within her chest that one of the ones who left Clementina's body mangled beyond repair won't see the light of day again, followed by the disappointment that it wasn't one of our blades who brought this fantasy to reality.

But his face in the sky hammers home the realization that I may not be polarized but there is a final chance to bring fantasies brought to light while my mind remains in the stars to fruition. Perhaps we could bury reality for good if we tried hard enough.

Emberly looks up and our eyes lock for a second; she sees me unable to sit still and I wonder if she feels the pain I feel that comes with the burden of sobriety.

She moves towards me, I'm too tired to resist --

(she'll be the end of me)

-- she takes me in her arms.

I fall into her lap, like collapsing tired into my pillow after a long night out, like my face meeting the surface of a soft carpet because anything is better than sand.

For a split second she's home.

"I- I-"

(-- I'm sorry,

I want to die,

I don't want to leave you,

I'll miss you)

She cuts me off with comfort. "Close your eyes, Ree. I'll keep watch for a while."

Perhaps I was wrong when I said there wasn't the slightest chance of a beautiful thing growing in here. Perhaps there was a point to leaving pieces of myself scattered in Raquel, Emberly and Clementina, perhaps I wasn't an idiot for letting them leave imprints of themselves in me. Wasting training time painting pretty pictures, wasting rolls of supplies closing their wounds shut -- there was a point, there was a purpose.

I sleep in her arms and dream of home.

I awake red hot spasms and instinctively reach for the spot where my glaive lay.

We bring ourselves to our feet, staring at each other and unsure of whether to call the other friend or foe. Nothing but the beginning of a storm and a whole country watch over us but I do not dare break the fragile peace held together by silence. "We have to leave each other now." She pulls her photograph from her belongings, I always found it strange that she chose to carry blood tallies of the dead so close to her. Perhaps I was wrong, Emberly Lowe was focused, grounded to the reality of the situation within the arena and never losing track of who was left. Yet I almost find the idea cold; there is nothing to distinguish the names or numbers of the people who have been tallies. If she was to leave this arena with her pulse intact, I would be no different from a Lux Pelotte or a Wendell Gordon on that tally. "We promised until the end, but I just wish that the end was something else. But I suppose we decided a long time ago that this couldn't last — doesn't make it any easier, though."

I don't let her leave; not while she still hasn't crossed the boundary from friend into foe. I grab her hand, holding it within mine and my words are broken. Thank you Emberly, for everything."

"I suppose if we ever see each other again, it'll be on the battlefield. Good luck, Ree."

She keeps tallies of dead boys and dead girls because she has something worth fighting for but I never thought to ask if she had more. A boy back home, a friend waiting staring at the television screen; I was too concerned with sustaining my own illusions. I'm not fighting so I can ruffle Kinsey's hair one more time, any woman I ever found I let fade away beneath chemical rage and a lack of attraction, I was never so much as visited by the multitude of family members who I buried beneath smokescreens.

So I pull out the token of my sin; the pack of cards I used to feed my addiction and watch wealth fade and my greed flourish and I press it into the palm of her hands. "Think of me whenever you see a smoke cloud." I'm tired of carrying pieces of three when I could be one.

We walk in opposite directions and with the first part of the storm comes solitude.

I keep walking through the rain beats down on my head, soaking my clothes and only adding onto the pressure of thousands of promises. However, while the eye of the storm remains foreign to me, the sense of solitude is not. Nights spent with my back pressed against a wall with a joint clenched between my lips or a needle in my arm; it was easier to endure while I was high.

I'm drawn to the outline of the huge volcano that was dormant until the fifth day where Adelaide labelled me as the bringer of fire. The lingering thought in the back of my mind is that there's something to salvage there from the feast or something we missed when we claimed wealth on the first day. I just need to find a place that's familiar.

Trembling skin and a sinking mind; I do not stop on my path to the top.

I take a cautious step along the dome when I notice it's practically solid, a layer forming where molten lava once sat. I take my steps with caution, not daring to fall into a trap should anything rupture.

I spot his outline before I recognize his features, amputation shielded with a wooden leg, stripped of his shirt and just as drenched as I am.

A Capitol elevator, a golden spear, a dying girl -- I could never mistake Teddy Ursa even though we near the end.

Desperate boys losing parts of themselves; I know this clash can only end in a red storm. I nod towards him, speaking so he can hear me above the environment.

"Looks like you've seen better days, Teddy," I say, circling him with my glaive hefted and its anticipated bite sharp. He said I'd put my weapon through his chest on the second day if he touched Raquel, although he only wanted to fight for a friend. "But you're still breathing, for now at least."

And while they may be the beginning of the end there is still a chance for me to sacrifice pieces of my pulse so I can break free from this bitter reality.

("If you die, i'll make your afterlife hell.")

"You still not a violent person?" Two steps and the promise of death between us is tangible. "Because I am."

I move under the cover of thunder; I'll run this entire storm red.

[dars]

[ree fer attacks teddy ursa; glaive]

2OKTKvXmglaive

[13159 -- Stabbed in Bicep -- 8.5 damage]

glaive

[Tom]

[presto][/presto]

► ► ►

They didn't speak that night.

Only glances and sorrow filled looks were shared as the sky grew darker and darker.

Teddy knew what would happen in the morning. They knew that the good times would have to come to an end. Only one could escape the eruption that would kill seven others, but Teddy still wanted to hold onto Chester like his life depended on it. Though, it already depended on Chester. Teddy hasn't been able to carry himself at all. There's been moments where he can see his blade about to cut down someone. Day two, it had been Raquel who he had left within an inch of her life. Day four, it had been Lorenza, where he had missed her by swiping the air next to her. Day five and six, he had cut Walherich down twice near death. He can see their faces in his head still as he had cut them up.

There's so many faces that they all seem to blur together like a single face of the dead that needed to be at peace. Even the demons like Wendell Gordon deserved some sort of peace. Eyes glance to the peg leg as he feels the wood softly against his fingers. He doesn't do anything else but remember Cam's words of the day before.

And maybe I'll finally be able to sleep without nightmares

Without terrors of the night to cut away at living with emotional wounds that never fully heal. That's the one thing that he hoped she had received. A final sleep where there's no nightmares to haunt Cameron Dialate anymore, but he couldn't promise that he wouldn't lose his own. Nightmares and the terrors that cut at his emotional state linger in the confines of his mind and he can feel the words of the day before in his own voice.

I wouldn't miss you, Cam.

Oh how wrong he had been about that.

Even if she had killed Rory Benstaloe, he couldn't help but miss the night on the roof where they talked about their homes. She had told him not to visit Five, but he would if he made it out. It wasn't beautiful, but it still held the home of Cameron Dialate who had amazed him through the time he had seen her, until the day she died. He already heard the anthem in his ears that blared to life with music.

The first face was the one that he could have guessed died. He had seen the eight that survived the giant chicken fight. Hero Marvray looks down upon him like a fallen warrior from children's tales. All Teddy could do was hope that Hero had been given a quick death in a place that was his home. The blonde hair that he could still see in his mind seems to glimmer like the gold on his spear. The words of Hero Marvray comes to his mind of the lunch where they had eaten together.

The fear that Teddy had when he met the guy giving him a strength to speak to others.

My own folks, they thought I’d be heroic.

"I hope you went out heroically, Hero."

The last face was the girl with red hair that would never leave his dreams that night.

No matter how hard he tried.

All he could hear were her words of no more nightmares in his nightmares.

---

They wake up together. Arms around Chester as he pushes his face into his neck and feels like he wants to cry like he had done when Chester had carried him away on day four. All good things come to an end. Their departure from one another was going to come any second and Teddy could feel it under his skin. It's a chill that runs through his spine and never goes away. The gentle downpour of ran soaks his skin wet and leaves the chill inside of his chest. They get up finally and Teddy can feel the chill on his skin.

It's cold, but refreshing upon his skin.

It keeps him on the edge of reality for the seconds that seemed to become hours, until Chester speaks up.

"Don't take this in the wrong way, but I truly hope I don't have to see you again because I don't want to hurt you."

They stung like the wounds of day four that still ache in the cold rain. He's soaked from the rain, but it doesn't matter to him anymore. Dirt that was once upon his skin seems to wash itself off. He's never felt cleaner, but he wants to cry. He wants to tell Chester that they could still stay together for one more day. He's afraid of what that would do to them though. He's afraid of the way Chester seems to serious about hurting him. He's afraid of running into Chester.

It should have been Teddy instead of Rory.

Things would have been easier for them than for Teddy.

"I don't want to see you again. Stay safe, big guy."

The words hurt upon his lips. His heart feels like it's sinking into the pit of his stomach as he knew what this meant. There's clouds above that sends more rain down upon them. His hand moves his hair from his eyes as he meets Chester's for a moment. The intense want to hug Chester just one last time echoes through his chest, but he shouldn't do it. He would forget about leaving if he did that. Chester deserved to get whatever he wanted. They needed to separate or they would have to fight one another, sooner or later. ALl he could do was wait for Chester to speak first.

"One of us needs to make it home, and that's all I hope for now."

Chester deserves it more than he does.

Teddy only had fragments of what he knew of his home. A dead mother. An abusive mother and father. Two friends who he didn't know the names of. There's an empty home that wait for him and a job that he doesn't even know if he could do after all of the thing she's been through so far. The whole district was watching him by now, even if he wasn't as great as past tributes. He still made it farther than the District Six tributes of last games. They had watched them as it had been the only thing playing at the hospitals. His ma had told him to ignore the screams from the little electronics that hang.

That's what he had done, but now it felt odd that he was thinking of being on them.

All he can do is nod to Chester in approval.

"I guess this is goodbye, hopefully. Thanks for helping me survive, don't forget me Chester."

It came out calmer than what he had said before. Teddy was forgettable like many of the others in the past that people couldn't remember, unless it was ingrained into their heads. There's one thing that he hates the most about himself. It's the memory that still lurks deep in the confines of his subconscious that never comes forward, unless it was a simple thing. After remembering what his parents had done to him, he could understand why his brain tried to make him forget it all. He understood the function of why it was never pushing for him to remember everything.

Chester's serious words ring in the air. The small sound of Chester's voice wants to make him cry once again.

"I'll never forget you, Teddy, for as long as I live."

It's all he could ask for. The two boys that he remembered didn't remember him. They hadn't looked for him like the memory would have suggested, but it was still all he could do was hope that they had and just not been able to find him. Teddy can feel tears pricking at the sides of his eyes as he moves a hand to wipe them away. A smile is forced upon his cheeks as he speaks to Chester.

"I wouldn't forget you either, now you better leave before I start making this a cheesy and emotional moment."

There's a forced chuckle that leaves his lips. Chester turns and begins to walk away. His feet echoing in his ears, until they stop for a moment as Chester turns around. There's a smile upon his face and Teddy gives a small wave of the hand, until Chester disappears from his view. It takes a moment for his emotions to come out. It felt unreal to him that Chester was gone. Teddy was alone like he had been day one. Ring gently pats his chest with his paw. Mo nuzzles deeper into his shoulder. The pocket whales do what they can to nurture him, but he can feel the tears coming out softly.

There's one thing in the world that he hated.

The one thing that he's had to do multiple times over the past few days ever since his name was called up.

Saying goodbye to everything that he's ever known.

"Goodbye, Chester."

---

Tears were saved for another day as he marches along to the bottom of the volcano that seemed to not be covered in lava anymore, but there's still caution in his steps as he climbs it. The rain hits his chest and hair more with the open air now. He feels soaked in the storm, but there's nothing he could do. His shirt kept the peg leg attached to his body. Wendell's glaive was still out there somewhere with the memory of Teddy's leg getting cut clean off on it. There's a second when he remembers Wendell's laugh as the blade cut it clean off. The curse that came from his lips as he felt even angrier than before.

He remembers running down the volcano on day one where the fear in his heart seemed to give way to loneliness. Rhetoric, Rory, and Chester had let him in with them. They had faced killers and creatures alike. Only two of them survived the attacks to make it to the final eight people. Seven people stood in Teddy's way of going home. Adelaide Thores, who still set his skin on fire. Ree Fer with the memory of being stuck in an elevator playing in his mind. Lux, the girl he only knew to be a career. Chester, who he didn't want to ever see again for his own sake and his heart. Titus Seraphim, who held himself high and made Teddy want to fight more than hide. Emberly Lowe, a girl who had told him that fighting was the only way in the games. Walherich, a man who could live on with the wounds upon his skin.

He was one of the eight that survived through it all.

He wasn't in the best shape like the rest of them.

Legless, beaten up, emotionally drained, and tired of failing. Teddy wasn't the man who was afraid on day one. He wasn't the man who held back his words in order to survive anymore. All he could do was try to prove that he belonged there. He had sent a letter to the ones in charge, but he needed a chance to try and fight, but they already were at the point. The point of kill or die.

The climb was tedious and cautious as he noticed a shell forming bits of lava that still sits upon the side of it. Once he reaches the top of the volcano, he can see what was once lava. There's a moment when he gently puts his foot upon it to make sure it wouldn't break. The sound of rain in his ears only sends a chill down his spine. The place was safe, but felt lonelier than anywhere else.

He's cautious in his steps around the dome of the lava. The shell felt solid enough to hold him, but he was still worried that one wrong move would break the surface, plunging him into the molten rock below. That's until the rain stops being the only noise that he can hear. Footsteps is all he can hear. There's no point in trying to hide. The end was near and even if Teddy was to hide, it would only prolong the fight.

The other tributes is easy to recognize. Adelaide's district partner, Ree Fer stands before him like a giant with a weapon that he's seen before. Wendell's glaive sits in the hands of Ree Fer and he can feel his pulse pick up at the sight of it. There's a flash of the elevator, the angry face on day two, and the memory of smoke. Raquel would have told him to not attack and that's what he did instead. He let his guard down hoping that they wouldn't have to fight. There's nothing he can do, but stay silent.

The words sends a chill down his chest.

"Looks like you've seen better days, Teddy,"

Teddy raises the golden spear now as he circles him like a predator. A giant among men, but Teddy knew of the pain that Ree Fer could cause to him. Teddy knew of the wounds that Ree Fer had caused on others. He's seen them with his own two eyes. There's a moment where he thinks that maybe the Fer boy would back down and move past him. He wished that's how it could have gone, but there's only eight left.

Only eight left and if they wanted to go home, they'd have to kill one another.

"But you're still breathing, for now at least."

That was the truth. He had been broken and torn piece by piece, until he wanted to scream, but he still was breathing. He still had a pulse. There's still life in his body. There's still a fight in his soul. All he could do was stay silent as he holds the spear defensively as he watches Ree Fer speak once more.

"You still not a violent person?"

Death's red storm looms over him as he can still feel the words and the attack that would come from Ree.

"Because I am."

The glaive cuts into his bicep with red that comes forth. He can feel the blade escape his skin. It stings, but he's been through worse. He's suffered worse wounds in the arena than a blade getting stuck into his bicep. All he can do is pull back and hold his spear out. He finally speaks to Ree Fer without fear anymore. He'd drawn the first bit of red that would go to the storm. The rain cleans the wound and he can see red mixing with clear as it drips down his arm.

"Ree. I thought you were gonna put one of those spears through my chest?"

A small smirk pulls at his lips before he lets it disappear behind the serious look that comes to his face. He can think of them in his mind. Rhetoric. Rory. Kaiser. Basil. Raquel. Cam. They all were counting on him to go farther than they could ever go. Chester was counting on him to keep fighting for his life. He's hidden behind his ally for too long. He's hidden behind everything for too long. That's how he knows he's not violent. He's patched up Chester, Rory, and himself too many times before. They hadn't forced him to be someone that he wasn't. He wasn't violent, but he was surviving. Surviving meant more than killing did in their world, but he knew sooner or later he would have to show the gamemakers that he could do it. He would have to kill or die.

That moment was now.

The cold air sends a chill through him as he thinks of everyone that he had outlived.

"I'm not violent. I'm resilient, Ree. I bounce back when people think I can't."

He holds the spear steady as he blinks for a second. His heart is already pounding in his chest as he moves closer with eyes staring at Raquel and Emberly's ally. They had been separated from their other member. They must of had the same thought that Teddy and Chester had. There's a moment of the rain that hits the ground as he listens to it.

That's when he speaks out.

"I can't die here. I'm sorry, Ree. I don't want to do this, but you've forced my hand."

The clouds cover over head. He's moving as quick as he can. He's swinging the spear with grace. There's a moment when everything stills and he can feel his heart beat.

He strikes with gold as the rain still sounds in the distance.

"I'm not afraid anymore, Ree."

A pause as the rain hits the ground.

"I'm not afraid to kill."

--

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

(Teddy attacks Ree with Lance of Approval [Spear])
Un67OLNlspear
(Shallow cut on left bicep 3.5)

spear

[kousei ♚]

My blade buries itself deep within his bicep and all he does it remind me of words I'd kept at the back of my mind behind waves of pain. "Ree. I thought you were gonna put one of those spears through my chest?" My face twists into a grimace when I pull the blade out of his arm and watch the blood spray across the ground, dripping down his arm and rinsing with the rain.

On the second day I had met this boy when a beach became our battlefield, mentality still fresh and body still whole. I'd called him out for what he was, a violent person although he claimed the contrary. Perhaps it was the sight of his golden lance through my friend's chest that began turning my mentality fragile, or perhaps it was the fresh scars I left along his friend's skin that did the contrary to him. I swore I'd end him if he killed Raquel and yet he only left her on death's doorsteps and I took on the heavy task of putting her back together again.

Only to see her face in the stars three days later when the smokescreen lost its previous thickness.

I've always had a questionable moral compass, sustaining rancid addictions by having other people gamble their wealth into my hands because I've never given a fuck about anything beyond my fantasy cloud, and I find myself wondering if I could take everything Teddy has in one stroke. When there's no one to protect, no one to kill for but myself and the hope of seeing another sunrise and losing myself in another forged euphoria.

"I'm not violent. I'm resilient, Ree. I bounce back when people think I can't."

I clench my jaw and roll my shoulders. "Well isn't that just fucking wonderful." And the acid in my lungs is all too real when I step back and we circle each other once again. The only thing between us the intangible storm that we'll bleed to escape. "I can't die here. I'm sorry, Ree. I don't want to do this, but you've forced my hand."

(he raises his spear)

The wound he leaves along my arm is an anchor.

I stumble back, grimacing at the line of crimson that weeps from the wound and only mingles with the rain as it runs down my arm. I do not scream at the sight of my blood hitting the ground in drips and spatters, my hand just flies to the wound as pieces of myself stain my fingertips, like the paint me and Emberly shared in the training center. "I'm not afraid anymore, Ree." I step back when he pauses. "I'm not afraid to kill."

I wonder if Atticus Manor was afraid to kill.

I forgot to ask, between the drinks he downed on the train and the drugs I found in the training center I never thought to hold a conversation on anything that could've been relevant to my survival. I never saw him as an idol or a king, just a man with a bloodied axe and a bloodier spear, but I still wondered. I wondered if he was afraid when he crippled his ally and watched him fall into his early grave, I wondered if he was afraid when he cut down his district partner so he wouldn't have to join her in the graveyard that eagerly awaited their new inhabitants.

I suppress a tremble in silence and the quiver in the face of death; I'm afraid.

I never sewed bravery along my sleeve for all to see and I never proclaimed to the world that I was a man without fear and I never dared to think I could cut someone down and be happy about it.

I never dared think I could put a spear through someone's chest who I proclaimed as a friend.

"Raquel was resilient and Raquel was brave," I say, edging towards him in anticipation for his next movement as I judge for an opening. "And look where she is now." I say, the cold bitterness in the back of my throat a tattoo in the air between us. Bitterness at the thought of her becoming nothing more than an afterthought while she sleeps in the stars while he tries to cut me down, bitterness at the fact I said goodbye to someone who held me when I needed her most only a couple of hours ago.

It's not a lack of fear that's kept me alive this long, it's desperation. Desperation to see another sunrise, desperation to breathe something other than stars in the sky and fresh air within this fabrication of survival. Desperation to be anything but sober; two weeks ago, the idea of taking my last breath while I was anything but high was a concept that drove me to the edge of madness.

Now, it's a possibility that ignites a red fire within my dying veins.

The rain smacks against my blade, rinsing it of the blood from his veins and I raise the glaive without hesitation when I face the possibility of becoming something despicable. "A lack of fear won't stop you from dying without a voice."

[dars]

[ree fer attacks teddy ursa; glaive]

pcEQn8iOglaive

[13151 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage]

Accuracy re-roll; day 6

glaive

[13100 -- Deep Gash on Stomach -- 9.0 damage]

glaive�glaive

[Tom]

[presto][/presto]

► ► ►

The cut that he had left on Ree had felt so pathetic that Teddy could feel himself give.

Feet stumble upon the solid shell of the ground. The eyes Ree Fer carried hadn't looked like they had when they first met. There was more to Ree than there had been to Chester too. They weren't the same, but Teddy could feel the sorrows that Ree Fer faced upon his skin like it glowed from his body. There's not a moment when he wished that he could have just ran into someone else. Anyone else who he could have had more of a chance against. He's tired. He could feel it in his body. He could hear Cam's voice in his mind as he remembered of her saying she wouldn't have nightmares anymore. There's a moment when he thinks back to all of the days before.

There's a moment that he can hear coming from Ree.

"Well isn't that just fucking wonderful."

The words hang upon his skin like a cut into the reality of the situation. Teddy could hear the violence in Ree. The steady beat of two heartbeats where only one would remain. Sky clouded above with two stubborn men that wouldn't give up on themselves. Teddy had to fight. He has to keep going for the others. He has to prove himself or he'll end up just being a forgotten memory of Six. There's nothing to him that anyone would remember. Chester would forget. Laide would forget. Titus would forget. Emberly. Walherich. Lux. Ree Fer would forget about who Teddy Ursa was. No one would remember who he was if he were to die there.

He wouldn't remember who he was if he were to die now.

Useless.

The mother that he could barely remember ringing in his head. There's another memory that lies on the tip of his tongue. There's a flash of a hand that comes down onto his face from the memory. It was the first time that he had ever been hit by his real parents. He could barely remember running off somewhere else to hide away. There's still so much that he he wanted to learn, but there's a sting upon his cheek that never disappears, even after the quick memory fades away.

Rain mixes with his hair and he has to swing it out of his eyes again. They still moved like a grace dance between predator and prey. Blades gleaming with red from the other. Never in his mind had he expected to be there where the fear of killing someone was swallowed down into his chest and aches like the world was dying around him. Ree's words cut himself from his mind quickly.

"Raquel was resilient and Raquel was brave,"

He looks for an opening as Ree speaks. He needs to break away or else he will become like the rest of the District Six's in coffins, where the restless finally rest. Raquel. He missed her more than Ree Fer would ever know. They had a bond that was like siblings if Teddy had to consider it anything of the sort. Titus had killed her, but there's nothing Teddy could have done. The man with the baseball bat had killed many. Teddy had killed none.

The words come back with a bitterness that leaves an awful feeling in Teddy's stomach.

"And look where she is now."

If they were anywhere else, Teddy would have tried to comfort him. Teddy would have told him that somethings can't be helped as they never know when they die. Teddy can feel his skin crawl as he feels Ree growing bitter by the moment. It's saddening to see. It's saddening to see someone so broken, just like Teddy was, but in different ways. He frowns out of sorrow for Ree Fer and speaks like the world depended on it.

"When did you become so bitter?"

Teddy lets himself move to the side as he can feel his heartbeat. It's still there. He's still alive. Death still looms over them like the clouds above. Death hides like the molten rock below that threatens to char them to ash. Hands shake slightly as he can feel Ree Fer deep in thought, but also on guard of Teddy. There's a focus and a bitterness to Ree Fer. A Hardened soul that had been put through hell just like himself, but they were clashing like two storms.

"Do you really think that she'd want you to be like this?"

He clenches his hand and jaws hard for a moment.

"Cold. You're so cold for being a bringer of fire."

There's a pain that cuts into his stomach. He hunches over slowly with pain, but he still continues to get up. Karma seemed to think that he deserved to feel was Walherich had felt for the past two days with a blade cutting into his stomach. It's almost like Wendell was coming back to haunt him in the form of that glaive that gleams with his blood for the second time int he past three days. Words fall from Ree's lips.

"A lack of fear won't stop you from dying without a voice."

He's afraid of death. He's always been afraid of dying since the day he began to work at the hospital. It always was an event full of emotions that fills the room with a cold air like the eyes Ree Fer looks with. There's a sorrow that would fill Teddy's chest at the sight of death. It never got easier. It never gets easier as it weighs down upon chest. Everything got heavier with time and his body feels like it's giving in on itself with the wound into his stomach.

"Then kill me. Kill me, just so you can get fucking high for the rest of your days."

There's a silence in his eyes as Teddy thinks of Rory who had spoken words that had hurt, but still died to Cameron Dialate. There's nothing more that Teddy can do, but speak and try to fight back. There's a moment when he knows this will be his last stand or the first obstacle in his way, it was up too their blades to decide which it is. Teddy speaks up again, no longer with the caring eyes that he had on the first few days.

"You'd kill anyone, just so you can go back to old habits. Don't you know that we're all fighting for something. What's your reason Ree? Tell me that."

There's a moment when he's about to swing his spear, but he stops himself as he gives him a half-ass smile as his heart hammers in his chest. Rain and blood mixing as it falls onto the shell softly. There's a moment when he wants to cry out to the world of how annoying it was to make it so far, but still get cut to bits by Ree Fer who carried Wendell's blade.

"I can't remember shit about my past, but if there is one thing I remember. The bitterness only leads to a bitter life."

There's a small smile that pulls on his cheeks as he moves, looking for an opening to strike at Ree Fer. Adelaide's partner was good. Almost as good as some of the people that he's fought before that he managed to survive through. There's a pause as he thinks of the deaths that reside on his shoulder. Rory. Rhetoric. He couldn't save them. He couldn't save anyone. He couldn't do it, but he was gonna try to save himself. It's what they had wanted him to do. It's what they would want now that he's on his own. They would have told him to get his head out of his ass and continue to fight for himself.

Another sunrise. Another sunset. A single person in his way.

"Bitterness never got me anywhere. You'll learn that soon enough. Raquel would be disappointed."

He swings like the beat in his chest would end in just moments.

Teddy Ursa wasn't afraid.

Teddy Ursa wasn't brave.

All he could ever be was a man who couldn't remember.

Useless.

--

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

(Teddy attacks Ree with Lance of Approval [Spear])
GoRfNi0cspear
(Stabbed in foot 8.0 +1 for spear +1 for rivalry -1 for SD = 9.0)

spear

[kousei ♚]

"When did you become so bitter?"

My skin crawls at the ending of that question, the red chills running down my spine.

There's a whisper of satisfaction that sounds in the back of my mind when my blade runs across his midsection, a nod of my head that signals that this is right -- what I should be doing. I reel back, biting back anger and resentment at the way his question of arbitrary value hang in the back of my mind. His words are glass, cutting deeper than his spear a few moments prior and running a river of red that is synergistic with the cold bite of the storm that accelerates the decay of rationale, I'm left watching pieces of myself scatter to the elements piece by piece.

It doesn't hurt anymore, not the words that follow or the rain pelting my skin or the judgement he lays across my withering shoulders but the words he spoke before my blade bit his skin still echo in the back of my mind."Do you really think that she'd want you to be like this?" He says and he sparks an ignition I buried dormant beneath the soil of my skin, a storm that mirrors this one, a cold fury within my heart like the warm rage of this volcano.

("You gotta win this thing, alright?"

Perhaps the gamemakers will grow tired and bored of watching two nobodies hacking at each other with weapons they possess equal skill with. Perhaps they'll trigger the volcano like they did two days prior and leave us as nothing more than ashes to scatter in the dirt back home. Or maybe they'll have had enough of stoner boy with no talent to show and decide to rupture an organ deep within me and watch me drown in my blood; any of those would be easier to stomach than Raquel's disgusted gaze burning holes in the back of my soul.

"Then kill me. Kill me, just so you can get fucking high for the rest of your days."

"Oh fuck off, Ursa!" I sneer, as if judgement of a man with only three limbs can outweigh the judgement of the legions that disappointed faces who carry the Fer name on their sleeves and all its tragedy. As if his bitter judgement can weather the storm that comes with no one even bothering to look me in the eyes one last time when death's bony fingers dug into my shoulders to scatter my soul into the grave.

"You'd kill anyone, just so you can go back to old habits. Don't you know that we're all fighting for something. What's your reason Ree? Tell me that." He carries on as we continue circling each other, openings for strikes nothing more than white needles lost within the storm. I'm inclined to ignore him because that's all I've known how to do, bluff and ignore.

("You're a fucking mess."

"Disgraceful."

"Waste of space.")

Yet I speak anyway because I feel like I have to. I'm not fighting for the Fer's, who left me to rot in the Justice Building because I wasn't worth their time, I just want to go home. I don't want to look down and see slits on my skin, scars on my heavy soul and holes in my weakening flesh. I don't care for coming home so Luci can kick me when I'm down, or to find Kinsey and have him run into my arms. There's no girl waiting back home for me anxiously and the closest people I have to friends probably don't remember my face because we were always lost within intoxication. Yet Adelaide and Raquel's voices are like loaded guns pressed to the back of my skull. "As if you know anything," I say, clenching my jaw to stop my voice from breaking. "I'm carrying a whole lot of promises on my shoulders and I sure of hell aren't breaking them for you."

When did I become like this?

"I can't remember shit about my past, but if there is one thing I remember. The bitterness only leads to a bitter life." When did I start to hate his grin? When did I start caring about anything other than fucking or smoking? When did I want to hurt someone so bad?

"I don't care." I state simply, a fact that leaves me weightless.

"Bitterness never got me anywhere. You'll learn that soon enough. Raquel would be disappointed."

I don't move when his golden spear comes down.

But I scream when a burst of red leaves my foot, crimson chains wrapping around my foot and tethering me to broken realities and shattered galaxies with agony. I stumble backwards, every step evoking new waves of pain and I thrust my glaive to the ground to halt my descent to the ground.

I spit on his feet, a mixture of green and white blending with the pelting rain and rolling across his feet.

"Don't speak as if you knew her, cunt," I push myself up, gritting my teeth and stumbling forwards. "You weren't her friend, you didn't know her, you put that fucking spear through her chest on the second day." I bring myself forwards, wincing and grimacing with every step I take towards eruption. "I'm the one who defended her when you and your fucking boyfriend tried to cut her down."

I won't be judged be someone carrying an equal amount of sins on his shoulders as I am. Someone with just as much death lacing through his bones as me. And if he thinks he can pass judgement with every stroke of his spear then the following can come to play with my glaive. I will spill iron galaxies from his skin; I can be strong if I need to.

"So how about you take a look at the who's blood is on that weapon of yours before you try to make me look at myself."

My blade strikes bitter for it's the only thing I have left.

[dars]

[ree fer attacks teddy ursa; glaive]

vVYFb_7Aglaive

[13084 -- Shallow Cut on Left Hip -- 3.5 damage]

glaive

[Tom]

[presto][/presto]

► ► ►

"Oh fuck off, Ursa!"

The name doesn't register right away as he hasn't been called Ursa since he was a child, before the accident. Ursa felt like it was a foreign word that could never be used to describe him. He almost dares to spit out the words, but doesn't. A clash of bitterness and resilience echoes through the storm. All he could do was stare at the man who stands before him. There's pain in his eyes, it was the first thing that he had noticed when he met Ree, but it's gotten worse since before Raquel's death. It's saddening, but the arena is not kind. He learned that from the first day after bloodbath when Rhetoric was cut down by their blades.

The storm moves up above them both, rain mixing with blood to make red. His stomach screams out in pain as he glances at Ree with caution. He's been beaten. He's been broken. He's had more limbs than before. He's still standing. He wasn't fighting for anything like Ree Fer. He wasn't fighting for family like Emberly Lowe. He was fighting for himself. For the ideal Teddy Ursa that still resides back home in District Six. The normal kid who could care about everyone and not worry about them stabbing him in the back. There's so much that he still didn't know about everything. Himself, his family, his friends, his life, and everything else that resided on his shoulders.

He wanted to go to District Ten and Eight to tell them of Rhetoric and Rory. He wanted to tell them that he was sorry for not doing enough for them. He can see a glimmer of Rhetoric behind the storm like her eyes still stared at him expecting him to do so much more for them. He can remember the fire that had resided in Rory Benstaloe that he missed way too much. The Hei Hei plushie's head still missing from the day that Rory cut it off and fixed it. There's no room for a bitter man in a world where beauty still resides. Hopelessness was only a state of mind that Teddy's learned to stay away from.

His words fire from his lips like the revolver Rhetoric had tried to use.

"As if you know anything,"

It starts with him not knowing anything. It was the truth. He didn't know anything, except for who Teddy was now. He knew who he was becoming.

"I'm carrying a whole lot of promises on my shoulders and I sure of hell aren't breaking them for you."

That's not what he had wanted to know. He wanted to hear the words of Ree Fer about what was waiting for him if he were to win. Home. Family. Friends. Drugs. Bitterness. Ree Fer was a mystery wrapped up in a body that cuts into his body. There's a moment when he says he doesn't care. He knew this already. Ree Fer would never care for some guy from District Six. District Six was always a place where victors do not come from to the rest of Panem. They were put off as weaklings who would die in all due time. Basil Isley had been an example of death so early. Lorenza had cut her down and Teddy hadn't known about it until the day after.

"I don't expect you to break them."

He carried promises just like Ree Fer. He had promised to live for Rory and Rhetoric since their deaths. He promised his Ma that if he were to be reaped that he'd try his hardest to get back to her, even if she had passed. He promised himself to solve the mystery of his own name. He promised to stay alive for Chester, even if there was no spoken promise, he said it in his own mind. He wanted to live until he couldn't go any farther as Chester would be in his way.

Ree's words fall from his lips like the rain that gently falls upon his skin.

A sore subject, which was Raquel Izar.

"Don't speak as if you knew her, cunt,"

All this did was brace him for an attack. Spear pointed out with worries stuck upon it's end as his hands clench the handle. Raquel was something else. Raquel had been someone that he knew from training and the time after their fight. He had held back his blade instead of killing her. He had stopped himself from taking Raquel Izar away from the living world, but Ree Fer would never have known any of this as he was off somewhere else when he said the words after the fight to her.

"You weren't her friend, you didn't know her, you put that fucking spear through her chest on the second day."

He's like the volcano below them, boiling hot within an inch of burning the skin of someone else. If it hadn't been for the rain, he would have expected the bringer of fire to light his weapon with the tar of the feast, but he hadn't. Teddy was grateful for that as he listens to the rest of the words on Ree's lips like the bladed weapon that cuts into his skin.

"I'm the one who defended her when you and your fucking boyfriend tried to cut her down."

There's a moment where things pause for a second. Ree does something that Teddy would have expected Wendell Gordon to do. He spits at his feet like Teddy Ursa was beneath him. Like he was nothing more than a man who deserved to be spat at for saying the things that no one else would have said to Ree Fer. If Teddy were to die here, all he would hope is that Ree Fer truly thinks of what he was doing and not the bitterness that lies in his skin. A blanket of sorrows wrapped around the other male's body protecting him from the sins that lie beneath.

"So how about you take a look at the who's blood is on that weapon of yours before you try to make me look at myself."

The blade comes fast like he was swinging with the rain that falls to the ground. It cuts into his hip barely with red that comes down. It was already red enough from his waist and below. Ree Fer didn't need to do that. His clothes stain red with his own blood and Teddy glares at Fer. Everyone deserved kindness, even pieces of shit like Ree Fer and Wendell Gordon, but he wasn't going to give it to them.

"You think I wanted to put her closer to death?"

A pause as Teddy lets out a pathetic chuckle.

"You obviously don't know me. I wouldn't expect you to. I didn't kill her, did I? Titus Seraphim did. I left her alive, Fer. I didn't dare kill her. I knew when to stop, but you. You were trying to kill Chester."

He swings the spear around in his hands as he points it at Ree Fer. He can remember the fight like it was just the other day. He can see the look in Chester's eyes when Ree and Raquel had cut at him with their weapons. Teddy holds his ground as he moves his feet away from the spit that now mixes with the blood and rain on the ground.

"I saw Raquel later that day, but you didn't know that, did you? I spared her life when I could have killed her in just one hit. Would you have done the same for Chester? I doubt it."

He's circling him now on the offensive with his spear pointed forward and his heart beating fast. He's not angry with Fer. It was to be expected from the bitterness that lies deep in his chest. A heart soiled by the seed of sorrows that turns him cold. There used to be a flame inside of Fer, but that had gone out with Raquel's death. Everything went out with Raquel's death. He glares again as he looks at the spit and Fer.

"You're pathetic. Spitting like a child who doesn't get his way. Reminds of Wendell, the man who's blade you wield."

Rory's eyes come forward in his thoughts as he swings the spear around himself. The rain drenches him and his hair feels heavy. He feels so clean and so dirty at the same time. The rain was meant to wash away the sins of the day before, but all it did was add new ones to the ones that lay beneath them. Teddy looks back again as he speaks again.

"You're just as awful as him. You preach of who's blood is upon who's weapon, but don't think I forgot about Rhetoric's upon you and your allies weapons."

He's close to his approach, but it takes him a moment before he swings for Fer. Blood in his eyes, Rhetoric in his memory, and Chester in his heart.

"Don't be childish."

Eyes glance to the mixture that lies on the ground. The stars still in his mind as he can see Raquel, Rory, and Rhetoric all there.

"You're pathetic, Fer."

The words of his mother ringing in his ear as he swings forward.

Pathetic, useless boy.

--

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

(Teddy attacks Ree with Lance of Approval [Spear])
1GYPf8bcspear
(stabbed in forearm 8.5 +1 from spear +1 from rivalry -1 from SD = 9.5)

spear

[kousei ♚]

A spasm as muscle passes across my arms and my glaive skims shallow across his hip and the laughter that follows is overwhelming.

A bite back the frustration that follows, broken promises seeming more and more probable as seconds blur to minutes and minutes blur to the moments that hang between the two of us. I swear, there's blood that drips from his arm and stains the ground and I see nothing but death scattered across the floor. It lingers for a second, biting at the back of my mind and threatening to snap my sanity at a moment's notice. I step back, stumbling for a second and catching myself on the bottom blade of my pole arm. "Fuck." And the curse is barely louder than a whisper drowned by the storm.

Lost answers and broken promises, the agony is made no lighter by his words.

"You think I wanted to put her closer to death?"

I don't want to listen because if there's one thing I learned from my bitter crash into this reality at terminal velocities it's that nobody cares what we want. Not when those who wears crowns only care about what they take, not who they take it from. Not when I've watched separation of neck and head, a bullet shatter a boy's mind and foundations I built upon the blood of others come crumbling down with something as stern as cannon fire. His laughter is pathetic but it's mocking, threatening my sanity with every second it fills the air and every overwhelming moment I bleed nothing but iron galaxies and crimson chains tethering my tired form to the ground.

"You obviously don't know me. I wouldn't expect you to. I didn't kill her, did I? Titus Seraphim did. I left her alive, Fer. I didn't dare kill her. I knew when to stop, but you. You were trying to kill Chester."

"I know that, I know-" Impulsive moments and broken sentences, he cuts me off massively and I'm too weak to even feel frustration.

"I saw Raquel later that day, but you didn't know that, did you? I spared her life when I could have killed her in just one hit. Would you have done the same for Chester? I doubt it."

I don't feel anything at his words because I don't even know if the mercy he speaks of is true or nothing but a fabrication.

"A man who threatened to gut me in the training center. A man who threatened to gut my friend in the arena. Chester's rotten through and through, sorry if you're too blind to see him for what he is but I would never spare someone like that, someone who tries to kill people because he enjoys it." And I leave the statement with conviction. Because for all my flaws, for all the oxygen I waste and the chemical storm I put my body through, I would never try and kill someone because I enjoy it. Threaten to kill a vulnerable person because I wanted to see them squirm.

Death tattooed along my back, life's blood in high demand -- I could never put someone through what people like Chester do to others.

Yet here I am, trying to cut down a man for committing the simple transgression of existing and trying to become something I thought was despicable; a man with a crown who only knows how to take.

I won't give everything I have to him.

(A breath and a pulse, it's all that keeps you going)

"You're pathetic. Spitting like a child who doesn't get his way. Reminds me of Wendell, the man who's blade you wield."

I almost tell him to go fuck himself, but through the shades of red binding my foot to the ground I realize that I would be proving him right.

"You think I don't know that? I've spent the last two years of myself smoking, injecting and drinking myself to an early grave for reasons I don't even fully understand. I'm not exactly someone to look up to." I say simply, like it's a cold fact.

"You're just as awful as him. You preach of who's blood is upon who's weapon, but don't think I forgot about Rhetoric's upon you and your allies weapons."

Elevators and hours between bed sheets; I don't forget about the wounds I left on Rhetoric's skin and I don't expect him to either. But his words spark fuels left deep within my skin, like an ignition of the powerless. "You're wrong." I state simply but my words lack my former conviction as I grimace with every step and wince with every movement.

I could never wield the same power as Wendell Gordon.

Once upon a time, despite spending half of my time lost within chemical storms, I tried to at least leave people with the positives of myself. Laughter around the neck of a bottle, sharing a joint on a rooftop, dragging them home when they'd had a bit too much. I never threatened someone with the point of a spear for the simply sin of pushing me to the ground, never tried to torment someone before killing them because I enjoyed it. I could never be a Chester or a Wendell, leaving pieces of myself with people so they could rot and fester.

Until the arena at least, the legion of wounds left on his skin is evidence that one redeeming quality has been wiped clean at this point.

His next words become a blur behind the flashing golden glint in his spear, stripped of mobility, I can only raise my arm to shield the worst of what he can do when he opens my skin and I scream.

I almost fall.

But I refuse to let my back hit the ground because I know the first time such an event occurs it will be the last. Instead, I stumble back and use the back blade as a crutch. I look down, a essence dripping from the gorge left in my forearm and a red rim quickly washed away by the the rain pelting my skin.

"You think I haven't heard this all before?" The cracks in my voice become evermore visible than the pieces of myself he reveals beneath my skin with his spear. A red blur passing across my vision, I don't let him see the weakness sewn within my fading heart. "You think what you say can hurt me?"

I know what I am.

I'm a boy who fucked the killer of one of his friends and befriended the killer of the other. I'm a boy who believes in alternate realities and once believed he was one the precipice of invisibility because he hallucinated that he was better than everyone else. Seventeen years old and it took death's scythe pressing against my neck and skeletal fingers clutched around my heart to find people who I cared about when I scratched below the surface.

And it took one of them dying for me to even believe in myself.

Now I'm here, letting myself break beneath the weight of the only promises I've made and cared about and letting them break at the point of this boy's golden spear and conviction to take everything I have left to offer.

"You may have the moral fucking high ground in your perfect fantasy world, you may kill me but I know that you'll probably follow me within the next two days and that's what'll keep me going."

I take everything I have and scatter my blood in the storm.

[dars]

[ree fer attacks teddy ursa; glaive]

EWzIisU7glaive

[13094 -- Shallow Cut on Back of Head -- 4.5 damage]

glaive

[Tom]

[presto][/presto]

► ► ►

It takes a moment for everything to settle in his chest.

He's not angry. He's not pissed off. He's not annoyed. He doesn't even know what he is anymore. Fer stands before him like a memory of everything that stood before him. Rhetoric's death. His friendship with Chester. Emberly's kind words. Raquel's promise that he needed to find his reason. Rory's death. Wendell's insistent words that haunt him at night. Everything seems to come to a point int he way Fer holds himself up. The gleam of Wendell's blade hitting his eyes as he watches himself in it's reflection.

"A man who threatened to gut me in the training center. A man who threatened to gut my friend in the arena. Chester's rotten through and through, sorry if you're too blind to see him for what he is but I would never spare someone like that, someone who tries to kill people because he enjoys it."

He waits for a moment as he can remember Chester's breath in the cold nights. He can feel his skin against Chester's chest from the night before. Tears that shine in his eyes as he had cried for Cameron Dialate. A comforting arm that was wrapped around him. Chester wasn't rotten. Chester didn't want to kill because he enjoys it. He knew the real guy that was deep down. The man who lets out his emotions differently than Teddy. He doesn't cry. Chester never cries from what he saw, but Chester goes silent. Locking himself away from the world and Teddy had to pull him back out.

"You think I don't know that? I've spent the last two years of myself smoking, injecting and drinking myself to an early grave for reasons I don't even fully understand. I'm not exactly someone to look up to."

All he could think about is how Chester must of been doing. Was he fighting someone? Was it mutts or a tribute? He prays that Chester can handle himself better than Teddy. There's a moment where he's studying Fer with a cautious glare. There's a moment then he speaks like he knew what was right or wrong in the world. A bitter man with bitter words that leaves an awful taste in his mouth as he thinks about it.

"You're wrong."

And it takes a moment, but Teddy is quick to his reply. His hand gripping ever so tighter that his knuckles turn white with intensity.

"No, you're wrong. Chester is not a rotten man, but you wouldn't know. You're the one who cut into him on the second day. You put yourself on his shit list. Chester doesn't enjoy killing. He was broken up about it."

Fer almost loses his balance to the wound that Teddy cuts open. He feels pity for the Fer boy, but this was how the game was played. Emberly had told him on day two that they would have to play the game the way it was meant to be played. They all knew what had to happen. He fought it though. Every day, he told himself that he would only kill to protect, but when he had to chance to. He failed. He failed horribly, which led to Rory Benstaloe's death. He failed Rhetoric because of it too. He couldn't kill Raquel on that day and it still eats away at his chest.

There's a moment of rain crashing into the ground that fills his ears. Blood mixing with the ground, red like the fire that lays underneath the shell of the earth. There's the storm above that lays a peace to the molten rock that had sizzled in a cloud of steam from the day before. Teddy had taken a photo of it, only to leave it behind like the awful things that sit upon his chest like weights. It helped him breathe just the slightest. There's nothing more to it than that. He can see Fer standing before him, blade ready to cut Teddy down like Rhetoric and Rory had been.

"You think I haven't heard this all before?"

He stops for a moment, the glare lifting slightly as he can hear it in Fer's voice. There's a deep sorrow that lies underneath and Teddy can remember the words before. He can see the words that he had told Teddy just moments before. The addictions taking his life away from him, but he had a choice. There's always a choice to make it better. Teddy had made the choice to live with Ma. Teddy had made the choice to go out in a storm to forget his memories. There's always a choice.

"You think what you say can hurt me?"

He bites the inside of his cheek at the want to sigh outwards. His words decide to come forward first.

"No. I don't think they can."

There's a moment when he can remember seeing the druggie in the cafeteria who had tried to swing at a Peacekeeper. Teddy had stopped that. Teddy had saved the sick from getting arrested, but was he any better than Wendell Gordon. There he was. Talking down to Fer like he was better than him. Teddy wasn't better than anyone. No one was better than anyone. They were all on the same playing field with different hands given to them. Ree Fer and him had been given shitty hands from the start.

"You may have the moral fucking high ground in your perfect fantasy world, you may kill me but I know that you'll probably follow me within the next two days and that's what'll keep me going."

The glare comes back now with his words. Teddy had no fucking perfect fantasy world. Ree Fer wasn't out of the fight. Teddy wasn't either. They were on even playing fields with blades that gleamed with red. The storm moves around them with rain coating them. Teddy's chest feel hot as he rubs a hand across it for a moment. He stares at Fer with pity. He's upset. There's a desperation in Fer that he can see, but Rhetoric's blood is on his hands. Rhetoric had died because Ree Fer and them had cut her apart. Her head removed from the body.

He knew what Clementina was going to do to Rhetoric.

"I have no perfect fantasy world. I don't have a moral high ground either."

He clenches the golden spear that had been his friend through it all.

Home seemed so close and so far away. Death seemed closer than home ever did to him. There were so many reasons to get home that Teddy couldn't count them all. The biggest one was that he never got to see Ma since her death. Doctors told him to go home like the shame that he had been. He wasn't on any moral high ground. He didn't have a fantasy world where flowers bloomed and the people he loved stayed. All he had was the dark confines of his mind that shroud the truth from him.

"If I die, then that's what happens."

He moves around him again, feeling the blade cut into the back of his head. Blood coating his neck now as rain mixes in with it. He stares at Fer like the world may explode if he doesn't. The bitter bringer of fire was everything that was in front of him. Teddy holds himself up, gritting his teeth in pain of the wounds. There's promises on both of their backs. He had even told Raquel that he would fight until his last breath. She had told him to find his reason and he had it. He needed to make it for everyone and himself. He needed to learn of his past. He needed to let his present hold him to the earth.

"You may have tried to make yourself forget your present and past with drugs, alcohol, or whatever. I've forgotten everything before, Fer. I don't remember where I grew up. I don't remember anything about my parents, until I stepped foot in this arena. They used to hit me, Fer. They called me useless. A waste of air."

His mother's harsh words ring in his ears. His father's palm across his cheek. He can remember only that. There's no faces to them. There's no recognition of what they looked like. He could only see what they had done to him. A child who didn't know what love and care was. A child who had to give his care to everyone in order to feel whole. It explained so much when he remembered it, but he wasn't a child anymore. He wasn't that Teddy in the hospital.

"I don't remember the kids who I played with. I don't remember what I had in my room. I don't remember the color of my room. I can't remember the faces of my parents even. The worst part of it all. I didn't even know my name, until it was called in front of all the district."

He doesn't know why he's telling Fer all of this, but his heart beats fast. His chest feels heavy. He almost wants to cry, but he remembers Ree's words. He keeps the glare on him as he speaks again.

"If I die, no one will care, Fer. I've accepted that, but I still fight. I still fight because I can't give up on myself. If I die, then I die. I thought I was going to die on the first day in here, so I'm not going to give up. I'm gonna fight until my fucking last breath. Be pleased now if you want if I die, but at least I died for my fucking self."

He prepares the spear as he watches Fer with caution.

"I promise, I won't forget you, Fer, but you better fucking try harder if you want to kill me."

He swings the spear with the clouds above, striking to scatter the storm of pity that resides in his chest.

"Now get up and fight me, fucker."

--

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

(Teddy attacks Ree with Lance of Approval [Spear])
y|eZ19I2spear
(Stabbed in stomach 9.5 +1 from spear + 1 from rivalry -1 from SD = 10.5)

spear

[kousei ♚]

Bitter words spoken are lost between my glaive skimming shallow across his cranium and his spear piercing my midsection, cutting off desperate breaths and leaving my with a bleeding wound I did not put high on my list of priorities three days prior but left scarring the skin of those who found themselves in my way little more than days earlier. The disparity in skill is only made apparent between my last desperate stroke and the final thrust of his golden edge, spilling blood not even worthy of a rank between my fingers.

"Now get up and fight me, fucker."

I listed the things I would cling to tightly when my name was drawn from that bowl; the movement of my muscles, the steadiness of my step, the rise and all of my chest.

I fall to one knee, despair outweighing the luxuries I waived for over two years with chemical rage between my teeth and needles in my skin. Dirt tracks along my skin, spear marks within my flesh -- what's the fucking difference?

I spit at his feet, this time it runs red.

A day ago I would have begged and bargained in the shadow of death. The way it's scythe could loom overhead; now I only spit in defiance of the unavoidable. I parted with my packs of sin only a few hours prior, deciding my days of bargaining with wealth could not save me from the steel in anyone blade or the rancid breath of any mutation; I don't even have a pound of flesh to offer for my life's blood was never worth anything to anyone.

(Except to me)

I want to fall, succumb beneath the weight of gravity and the fatigue that rests on my shoulders and laces its way up my bones. But instead of biting cold asphalt and being met with a face full of blood I want to be met with a face full of Raquel's hair. Emberly's warmth. Clementina's touch. For someone, anyone to take me by the collar and pull me from the early grave I only feared when met with a golden edge.

I never had chemicals to run within my veins, but I ignored death's shadow while that pack of cards rested heavy in my pocket. While Emberly could hold me when I shook, when Clementina could pat my back when I was weak and when Raquel could wrap my wounds in bandages and the opposite could come into play. Yet watched two out of the four pillars that supported our structure of desperation quickly proved packs of cards and bargaining power could easily be replaced by despair within my chest and golden flecks within my stomach.

Before he shattered hopes I secretly held in the back of my mind, he almost sounded like he wanted to console me while I succumbed to moments of decay.

"I don't want to be remembered," I cough, weakness a badge pinned to my chest and despair strewn across my heavy shoulders. The odds were always stacked against me, towering to take the shape of black ravens and grey smoke clouds -- I will never find my fantasies again. "I'd rather just--" I cough, pausing, teetering on my heels as I bring myself up. Not quite steady but far from weak.

(--I'd rather just live.)

"I'd rather just be anything but sober right now."

I'd driven myself on that desperation, to bless my skin with needle marks and my lungs with pieces of decay.

I lift my glaive, red glinting in the corner of my eye. "So burn my picture, spit on my grave. Do whatever it takes to forget me."

Once, I'd made a promise to the two who I knew were important to me. A last fragment of home and a dying girl who's hand I held when we both needed it most. I should've known better than to make promises under the influence of grief and despair because such fragile resolve tends to shatter beneath the pressure of insanity induced by captivity within sobriety.

[dars]

[ree fer attacks teddy ursa; glaive]

6dxkKP2Fglaive

[13090 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage]

Accuracy re-roll; special weapon

glaive

[13054 -- Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage]

glaive�glaive

[Tom]

[presto][/presto]

► ► ►

Fer falls to a knee with the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

Teddy almost wants to scream for him not to die, but there's not much he can do. It was either him or Fer. Chester would kill Fer if it meant surviving to see him. Gravity pushes upon their shoulders with the promises to the living and dead. There's pain in his body, but nothing that he hasn't dealt with. He's survived it once before, losing only a leg and not his breath, but there was so much going on. Fer was on the verge of death as claws seem to come for him. It's a quick second as rain just lands around them on the shell of land that they stay on.

Fer spits again, but red comes out instead. It's brutal and Teddy can feel himself beginning to freak out. He's seen death before. He's watched kids wither away into nothing, but a pale body stuck in a world of the living. He's seen druggies overdose and go into shock. He's seen wounds that make a person succumb to death. This was so much different than any of those times. There's nothing that they could have done to heal them. No magical cure to let them live a normal life. This could have been avoided. It all could have been avoided, but luck decided to not be on his side when they drew his name from a glass bowl.

There's nothing more to do but watch Fer as he is there before him, wounded and on the verge of death. He holds his spear like Fer would still get up and kill him. It was still possible. Everything was still possible when playing the game of death. The storm rages on around them and he can remember the night. He can see the shout of a guy who he can't remember. A familiar voice from memories before, but his shout wasn't loud enough. Feet hitting pavement as rain hits the ground.

He's never liked storms. He knows why now that he can remember the incident.

A branch breaks from somewhere. Tears coming down his face, until the wind picks up the branch. It hits him. Hard. He gets tossed around by the wind and slams into the ground hard. He can remember the details of it all. He can remember being so angry. A guess that he could make was that something happened with his parents. He wouldn't know unless he ever made it home. It's where the answers lie.

Ree Fer looks like a broken soul. An innocent man who was unfortunate to get his name plucked from a glass bowl in another place. Teddy was on the verge of tears watching him on the ground. He almost dares to shout for him to stand, but he can't. His voice feels lost as the golden spear gleams red with the blood of Fer. His voice rings in Teddy's ear like a sharp pain that stabs into his gut like Wendell's blade had done before.

"I don't want to be remembered,"

Fer didn't want to be remembered. He wanted to fade away into the stars above. His hands clench upon gold that gleams like the stars. There's pity in his chest as he watches him cough. Clouds above them cry out in their name, death would soon have one of their breaths. Rain drips down Teddy's chest as he watches the Fer like he didn't want to forget him. No one deserved to fade away. No one deserved to be in a blank grave in whatever district where no one would mourn them. Teddy wouldn't forget Ree even if he were to die. Even if he was to fall into another accident and forget everything in front of him again.

He forgot with a storm.

He would remember with another.

"I'd rather just--"

He coughs as he stands up again. Words cut off by the heavy weight upon Fer's shoulders. Teddy's silent, eyes watching him and daring to break down. He's breaking down inside, but Fer didn't need to see that. Fer didn't need to see Teddy break down like a child. He's broken down too many times to be considered strong. There's a moment when he thinks Ree will just collapse onto the ground, but instead his voice finishes the words that he wanted to say before.

"I'd rather just be anything but sober right now."

Sober. Stoned. Drunk. All he could see was the desperation to not be there plastered upon Ree's face. His lip moves for a second down, but he catches himself as he watches the male from District Three. Adelaide's District Partner who she cared about. She would never forgive him. He didn't blame her. He wouldn't blame her for never forgiving him. He wasn't even sure that he would forgive himself if Ree Fer were to die in front of him.

"So burn my picture, spit on my grave. Do whatever it takes to forget me."

All that could be heard is the rain hitting the ground.

The blade cuts his leg with a wound that oozes red. The ground below them both was red with blood, mixing together like a storm of red that lays above and below. He's conflicted at the sight, but he still struck Teddy. He clenches the spear in his hands and moves it around him. His eyes never leaving Fer's form. It feels like the world is upon their shoulders and they'd clash with an explosion. He swallows down the thought in his head where the pity resides. THe sorrows that he felt for Fer.

"No."

It's quick and he stops himself taking a breath of air. Raindrops move down his chest as he let's out a small sob. This wasn't who he was, but he had to fight. He had to make sure Ree didn't make it out for Chester. He had to do it for his allies who had fallen. He had to do it for the unsolved mysteries at home. He had to do it to know who Theodore Ursa was. He holds himself steady as he speaks again, eyes filled with sadness.

"I won't forget you, Fer."

Eyes look down to Fer as he watches the male. There's a beating heart that lies in that chest. There's a breath in the air that escapes Fer's lungs. There's blood that comes from his body. Blood mixing with the water that gently streams down upon them both. He can't handle it all. He backs off for a moment as he speaks again. Words upon his tongue.

"I-I can't forget you. No one deserves to be forgotten. No one deserves the pain of not being remembered by the people who care about them."

Tears finally break out of his eyes, mixing with the fresh water that rains upon them. Salt and clear water mixing together with the blood below. He holds himself tall, but he's breaking on the inside. Emotions mix together as he feels sorrows and pity, but there's something else there. He cares, even if he denied it. He cares about Ree Fer, even though the male threatened to stab him through the chest with a spear. He cared for people and that's what he did. That's until now. He knew the consequences. He knew what would happen if he didn't fight until his last breath.

"Get up. F-Fight me. P-P-Please."

He's shaking again as he swings the blade around himself once more. They dance with blades of gold and silver that gleam in the dark. The stars mixing into them like the cosmos knew that they were going to clash like the storm above. Teddy can feel his heartbeat quicken as he watches Ree Fer. Words seem to slip from his lips as he moves in.

"I-I-I have to do this. I'm sorry, Fer."

Gold clashes against the sky as he brings it down, only tears upon his eyes and words that hang in the air.

Two storms dancing their last battles.

I'm sorry, Fer.

--

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

(Teddy attacks Ree with Lance of Approval [Spear])
HeEQ8YrNspear
(Deep Gash on right thigh 8.0 +1 from spear +1 from rivalry -1 from SD = 9)

spear