never say goodbye {f.o.h vs. lost boys} Day III

[Arrows]

    It comes as a wretched realization, a rancid reminder. He does not see the sword slyly slinking through the shadows. He does not notice the small steps sprinting suddenly towards him. All he knows is the icy kiss of metal’s cruel teeth to his skin. All he knows is that moment before darkness and death engulf the illumination of his gentle eyes. All he knows is that the silent stalking shadow with a sword swift and shaking is the final figment of his existence, of his life.

    My mind melts to December. Winter wind nips viciously at our noses. My siblings shake and shutter from the grueling gusts praying for a scent of spring to soon be carried on the back of a breeze. Terror taints our eyes as they lie frozen, fixated on the body of a boy not far younger than us. Lifeless he lies beneath blankets ripped and ragged from the price of poverty. Alone his eyes stare towards the shining stars which seem so far away from one now lost into darkness. I pray for his venturing soul searching somewhere through the dimensions for a new home. In front of a sniffling sobbing sister I close his eyes to set him into eternal rest. He was a reminder as well, a reminder of the nearness of death.

    A stifling sob freshly formed on the lips of innocence snaps me free from my past. Disbelief and terror cling to the skin of Ollie, a silent shriek thwarted in her throat by tension. Before her lies the epitome and the apex of what the Hunger Games are, a game of death. It doesn’t cross my mind before the first wells of water begin leaking down her rounded cheeks, that this might be her first encounter with death’s demands. Despite the despair and shock stirring within my own chest, I rise above the waves of harsh emotions. I grip tightly onto the life raft that is only a twelve-year-old girl. I put her needs before my own devilish desires to completely crumble and shatter succumbing to sorrow.

    Small and swarmed in sadness Ollie slumps to the side of the boy she barely knows. Her hands heave in short shifts as pleas for a return of life to a depleted body. I am numb watching how such wickedness can be sewn into the heart beat of life itself. I watch for seconds which seem like centuries before I break down my barriers. I slowly settle myself to the scarlet stained forest floor. I let my hands hold his head softly before taking Ollie’s hands next in my own. I bring her fingers, small and without scars, to the neck of the chilling corpse once known as Gabriel.

    “Do you feel that?” I say soft with my voice trembling terribly. “When it’s still like that, when there’s no beat. We don’t wake back up. He’s not waking back up.”

    Ollie’s body breaks bent by the heaviness of such a cruel lesson. Tears threaten the stern sanctuary I’ve made my face but I do not let them find the freedom to fall. Instead my body moves. My arms extend around the center of sobbing that Ollie has become. For the first time since rising out of our old world into this new one of wickedness, her small figure is frail and lacking will. Like a wounded bird fallen to the forest floor, she needs another to bring her upon their back and into the safety of the sky. I bend before her wrapping her wings around my neck and her legs around my waist. As I rise with her now fastened to me, I falter but do not fall. She is heavy and my body yearns for the relief of the cold water, but for her I push the pain and the panic aside.

    “We need to get the hell out this place, now.” I say looking towards the pool of spilling scarlet Cesar has become. My teeth tilt slightly against my lower lip. “And when we get away from here I’ll help fix you up.” The words nearly bring bile bursting from my mouth. Instead of focusing on them, I focus on the soul still sniffling tucked away against my back. “It’s okay Ollie, you’re allowed to cry because sometimes things are sad. Today things were sad.”

<><><><>

    Morning stirs shock into my spine. Suddenly my eyes are wide and reeling at the discovery that I actually fell asleep. My eyes radiating a beam of panic find the calm yet startling stare of Cesar just several feet away against a tree. His words are short and simple, and surprisingly comforting despite the danger his presence produces. “Everyone has to rest at some point. I watched out last night.” Although my heart is threatening to combust within the confines of its ribcage cell, my head dips in thanks towards the career I once thought of as a Beast. Perhaps there is more to a trained killer than one would imagine.

    Ollie wakes last with her head of blonde hair spreading in all directions across my lap. As she sits up from sleep I use my hands to slip the golden vines hovering over her face off to the side. Her sobbing has stopped, but still I can see new pain has now tainted the purity that once protected her spirit. The longer she lives as I live and breathe for, the more dipped in the dismay of darkness she becomes.

    An idea ignites inside my mind as I ask Ollie to turn away from me. It takes only a few minutes of muscle memory to give her lovely French braid, a braid just like Kestrel’s. My heart heaves but the smile on my face doesn’t fade or falter.

“You are beautiful my little golden princess.”

    I’m not sure how much longer after that we leave the black barricading branches of the tree behind. A singular entity expands into an entire forest filled with life leaping from every creature to every crevice. Soft songs spin through the air launching from the beaks of birds sitting high atop the branches above our heads. The serenity of the scene is so captivating I almost miss the cacophonous contrast of approaching danger. Twigs snap, critters scuttle, leaves rustle. An arm maneuvers Ollie behind me drawing the attention of my allies and my other adjusts a spear into my hand.

    In silence, I watch as our inevitable encounter grows ever closer. I listen as the cacophonous symphony of steps becomes ever louder. I go cold as the careers and a boy from three emerge from the brush. We have been found by the hunters, but we cannot become the prey.

    The spear shaking in my hands angles towards the boy from One. His demeanor is deadly and his group powerful. Every internal instinct tells me to run except for one, the one that knows our only chance at survival is striking first. I have no choice but to listen to my own logic, but I wish it wasn’t so terrifying.

Dove attacks Volkner Meinhardt // Javelins

r7lZ7dKyjavelin

{SHALLOW CUT ON BACK OF HEAD -- 4.5 damage}

OOC: Title credited to J.M. Barrie in his novel Peter Pan

javelin

[Knuckles]

should've stayed, were there signs, I ignored?
can I help you, not to hurt, anymore?
we saw brilliance, when the world, was asleep
there are things that we can have, but can't keep

For a split second, time ceased to exist, and the boy from six stood frozen in place watching as the lifeless body collapsed against the ground. Sorrow filled eyes locked on Gabriel's hoping, praying, begging, for him to move, but Zeke was met with the same lifeless stare he saw so many times before.

Instantly he was thrown back into the hospital setting, and a young girl laid on the table as doctors, nurses, and medics worked relentlessly trying to save her. A family stood somewhere in the distance begging for a miracle, but what they didn't realize was miracles didn't exist in Panem. Zeke pressed on her chest over and over as the doctor kept delivering shock after shock. Several drugs circulated through her lifeless, cold body, and even when the doctor called it, the desire to stop working never once left his mind.

A gut wrenching sob infiltrated his thoughts, and Zeke found himself looking at the young girl from ten. A bleeding heart crashed against the ground, and his head slouched forward - What have I done? Had they just ran away, had they just left his allies alone, none of this would've happened, but blaming them was wrong because his blade was the one that took Gabriel's life.

His face remained clear of every emotion, but his heart was crying. It tore at his soul. Being trained to heal someone didn't make a difference when someone was too far gone, and seeing the distraught Ollie only tore him further from the world. It was the same way telling a family member that their loved one was gone. The pain, the screams, the light leaving their eyes as they realize someone they cared for was gone. It hurt more than anything, but she had Dove at her side comforting her. That was something more than he had.

Seeing death over and over every single day was enough to change a person, but actually taking the life of someone drew the line in the sand. In this moment, Zeke couldn't help but wonder if this was what Teddy was talking about. Zeke's entire world revolved around healing and helping others, yet he still didn't hesitate when it came to killing. Ollie was in need of comforting, and he could tell by the way she was crying, and Dove tried remaining strong, but her trembling voice told him otherwise.

Soon they're all running, and he followed behind moving rather slowly, and even when they were tucked away at a resting place, Ezekiel didn't move.

A parachute landed beside him - What would anyone want to send me? His heart was heavy, and it became even heavier when he saw the knife resting inside. The sword had done well for him - why did he need the knife? Almost instantaneously a light turned on inside his mind. Removing the duct tape from his backpack, Zeke slowly crept towards Cesare who had a bandage wrapped around the stump, and the bleeding was stopped. Yet he still was pale, and didn't look so good.

"Here." Gently placing the knife against the bandage, Zeke duct taped the knife to the missing hand. "Just in case you need it." And then he moved away carefully placing his back against a tree. How did anyone prepare for something like this? Why would anyone volunteer to murder innocent people?

It was nothing like his life back home now that he claimed the soul of another.

---

Somewhere through it all, Zeke realized he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep because when his eyes opened later it was a new day. Cesare was resting against a tree keeping watch, Dove was consoling Ollie, but Zeke was just sitting there doing nothing. Mending a broken heart was nearly impossible, and it wasn't the first time someone died in front of him - death was never easy. And now it was another day, and more people had to die, and truthfully, he wanted nothing to do with it.

Holding the sword in his hand, Zeke simply followed everyone else. Leading the way was difficult, and perhaps falling behind was the easiest thing to do right now. Looking someone in the eye and explaining why someone died just wasn't his strong point. Everyone had strengths and weaknesses. Everyone fell. Everyone struggled with life. Watching people die became part of his life - it changed everything about him. The way he looked at life. The way he talked to someone. The way he made himself look like a cold hearted fool on the outside.

All he wanted was the chance to wrap his arms around his dad. To have that comfort meant the world, and right now it wasn't there. Nothing would change what had happened. Nothing would fix the pain lingering inside. The broken heart kept beating, but the will to live was slowly crawling away. Reminding himself this was simply a game that only one would win didn't change anything. It didn't make what happened any easier, and now Zeke was placed in a situation he never imagined possible - returning to the hospital would be difficult especially when someone died.

A heavy sigh left his chest as trees grew larger. His chin dropped to the ground, but the twigs snapping, and Dove stopping motioning for Ollie to get behind her caught his attention. Somewhere up ahead something was coming. The grip on the sword tightened, and Zeke watched the spear in Dove's hand, and he watched as it flew through the air at the figures emerging from the distance. It was just like the day before, and he knew someone else would die.

He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes momentarily, but when he opened them, Zeke knew a fight would begin. His only hope at the moment was to make it out of this alive with his allies following behind. Even then it all felt impossible in a world where only one would win.

Table by Calla <3
lyrics: One More Light - Linkin Park

Ezekiel attacks Volkner | Sword
iTW4DICCsword

{results: 1158 -- Stabbed in Eye -- 40 damage}sword

[lance]

AKIRA

SOKATOA

Your sleep came fitfully, plagued with nightmares of grotesque pale worms that stood fifty feet tall and devoured anything and everything in their path. You stood, rooted to the spot, invisible to their eyes but powerless to do a thing to impede their progress.

You'd wake up sweating, chest burning and breaths shallow, as one by one lives were snuffed, screams shifting in tune from indecipherable white noise to the piercing screams of those you held dear. Feverish you might not be - the stash of medical supplies and aid from Bella and Volkner had prevented early infection from setting, though you remained wary given how much bacteria tended to fester within the mouth of a beast such as that.

But though the night was warm and muggy, and sweat dripped down your brow in a sheen, you felt no signs of the dull leeching ache of infection, no reaction at all other than the soreness that surrounds broken skin. The wound itself had been decent in size, and had circumstances been different you figured you might have worn it proudly like a battle scar once it had healed completely.

But it took more than a week for such wounds to heal completely, and should you make it that far a gash on the chest would be the least of the burdens you would have to carry.

Once again fate tempted you, making you sovereign of the land of the living while your compatriots flirted with death, snores marking the fact that the nightly ritual was undisturbed for all save yourself. And once again common sense beat back the inevitable, for only two were dead out of twenty four - you'd thought it folly that only a single face had shone across the sky for the second night in a row, and yet the anthem did not lie. The girl from Eleven and the boy from the reigning champions, though most years Twelve was hardly worth worrying over. With any luck, this year would return to the status quo when it came to them, and if the worst case scenario came to pass, then that was one contender out of the fight before he ever got to you.

But twenty one still breathed in the air that you breathed, still made their own claims to the crown. And this was a game of crowns that could suffer no pretenders.

But for now you would honor your pact of cooperation, stand strong by the trio of sentinels that carved their way through your shared enemies, and prove your worth so that life might still move the one hundred and ten pounds of flesh and bone that consisted of you instead of scattering to the four winds like so many before it.

No, tonight would not be the night. And nor would several nights to come, you decided.

Such a thought brought weight to your eyelids once again, though it would be the warm rays of the dawn that would come before the sweet nothingness of the void.

---

You found yourself surprisingly alert during the ensuing trek than you had expected, given your wound and your less than ideal sleep the night before. But your strength remained, and with it came your wits. The silent agreement that none should stay in the same place for too long was unanimous, but moving had its own dangers right alongside staying put. But, if one thing was constant in this arena, it was that one was never truly safe. Not even you, with half the Careers in the arena forming your own personal entourage.

That remained true even as you made your way through parts already traveled - though the woods had surrounded the little hole in the ground in all four directions, you had figured they could only travel so far before giving way to something new. The Cornucopia, at the very least, had been proof of that.

Still, you would not miss the trees once you broke free of them. There was a reason that the predators that lived in similar environments had grown so accustomed to stealth and trickery in order to catch their prey, and you knew firsthand that a boy of the urban environment like yourself had no place being a predator in such a place.

So you kept your newly discovered polearm at the ready (you'd given your sword to Bella in the hopes that she'd make better use of it than your own untrained form had), eyes flitting from bush to treetop in search of danger. Some might call it paranoid; for you that's a compliment as opposed to an insult, for no thing is too small to worry about when death is on the line.

So when the spear emerges from the underbrush and nicks Volkner's helmet, it is not so much a surprise as it is a confirmation of your suspicions, even if it did make you flinch.

Together you turn as one to see the culprit - a girl, one you remember as being from Five, already arming herself with another spear. Behind her runs a boy, no doubt the latest in Teddy Ursa's attempts to create a bloodstained legacy for himself, sword in hand and hot on her heals.

But you're looking further, for two against four is a suicide mission even with the element of surprise, especially when it's two from the middle district leading the charge. And you find them not five seconds later, one of the most mismatched pairs you'd ever seen frequent a Games.

On the left is another Career, Volkner and Andy's counterpart from Two, and no doubt just as fearsome as each of them in his own way. On the right is a little girl, the twelve year old from Ten that boasts the claim both of being the youngest tribute in the arena and one of a handful of combatants smaller than you at the same time.

You know you're not one to talk, given that you're literally a short scrawny boy from Three surrounded by a trio of mismatched Careers, but you never did expect to see a pairing like that in this arena, much less many others. The stories of Aranica Petros and Dru Charlesburg seemed more fairy tale than fact, and you never took Cesare Crocetti to be a Hayden Harvard or a Euley Sarasin when it came to letting heart rule over practicality.

But such facts were irrelevant. You were under attack, along with your allies, and conflict once again ignited. Only this time, it wasn't giant worms that you would be striking at.

You've seen enough Games to know that when Careers found each other in the Arena that it was usually each other that they sought as opponents instead of the stragglers. Cynthia Rose Delgado had challenged Rhaegar Hammerfell, Kaiser Fray had struck out at his opposite number, and different groups of Careers had crossed blades several times in Games prior to that. No doubt these thoughts were echoing through the heads of enemy and ally alike - no doubt Cesare meant to meet one of his counterparts in a duel, no doubt Bella or Volkner were itching to cross blades with him in turn.

Neither side would expect a scrawny boy from Three to make the challenge in their place, darting past the vanguard to the back lines to strike not the child but her fearsome guardian instead. But you had a habit of doing the unexpected, and here would be no different.

So, polearm in hands, you dart out of the way of the charging boy from Six, rush past the spear-wielding girl from Five, to make a charge at one of the only people in the arena that had been trained in this very art.

Behind you, you hear Volkner shout. No doubt he'd taken the bait that the boy from Six had dangled. No matter; in engaging them in battle, that left little to no chance of you being stabbed in the back.

Now all you'd have to do was make sure to not let the same befall your front.

inspired by briar

akira attacks cesare; glaive

9VaL7THaglaive

13055 -- Severed Left Ear -- 8.0 damage + 1.0 blades

glaive

[maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte]]

[presto][/presto]

"The future can't
be real, I
barely know how
long a moment is"

nyte is out for the night (haha) so i'll be fillering in her place uwu. she'll fill it in sometime tomorrow! ~xoxo hacker lance

bella says nothing, just kinda screams internally @ volky getting stabbed

[attacks dove elsu -- sword]
GSxND5wksword
[stabbed in bicep -- 8.5]

sword

[gamemaker kelsier]

[presto][/presto]

"some miracle man
must have
shot me while
i wake"

How many times did the sun fall down before getting back up? Violet told me the sun rises everyday, just because it's cloudy it doesn't mean it's gone but I think that might be a goddamned lie. I tip my head back against the dirt floor as Bella wraps my leg up. The ceiling is full of roots and it stinks like dead worm in here but we're all only half dead.

Four worms hit us that hard, how the hell are we supposed to survive people?

I know that people are scared of us. I heard whispers in the hall about the career pack. I didn't realize they were about me until later. District Four Male. That's me, but I'm still a waste of space.

"Would you be doing better, Vi?" I whisper.

Guess I'll never know.

I know that everyone probably thinks I'm crazy though. I can't even get through a fight without panicking. I can't do anything well, no wonder my dad told me he wished I was dead. The first time he'd spoken to me in years and that's what he'd had to say to me.

Yeah, well I wish I was dead too!

I was reaped a week later. Guess daddy dearest got his goddamned fucking wish.

"Fuck, Bella, I'm so stupid."

I say it like it's news.

In the night I go searching for Volkner. I don't know why. He's tall like Violet, I think if I slept with him it'd be easy to imagine that my head is on Violet's chest, that my hand is entangled with Violet's hand. I also just like the way that he looks at me, like I'm something curious. Kind of like that he wants to cut me open and see how I work and I'm a little bit ok with that. I think I must be a little insane but that's been established.

He doesn't smell like Violet.

It doesn't work.

I don't work. In my thigh, there is a pin point of fire that the rest of the world burns inside of and I can feel it slowly eating through my leg. Maybe I'll die here. Right here in the night, head resting on Volkner's arm.

I pull out Violet's letter and I read it again in the dark, brushing my fingers over the paper, touching the water stains gently. His tears. His tears over me. "Didn't anyone tell you not to cry over spilt milk?" I whisper.

Am I crazy?

I don't know anymore, I don't have anything to measure myself against. Home seems so very far away and I am so very tired. I can't remember which way is up, if there is one. I need a purpose but I don't have one.

I stare at Akira in the dark, watching him sleep. He fidgets a lot, not resting well.

I wonder what he dreams about.

The last time I dreamt it was a dream about the ocean and I was drowning. The water was cold but it was peaceful. I was happy. Now I'm just drowning here, gulping down air in vital moments when I should be fighting for my life, reduced to nothing but a fish out of water. I don't know how to tame myself, how to stop the always burning panic. At home I just smoked weed.

There's no weed here.

There's no alcohol to numb the pain. I have nothing. I am nothing. In the darkness I could melt into the ground and disappear for good. There's nothing stopping me from taking a knife while everyone sleeps and ending it all here, in this dark underground.

I consider it for awhile, thinking quietly about how I could slip a knife from a pack and be done with it all before anyone was the wiser. The idea calms me. I sleep.

In the morning, we walk.

We don't know where we're going of course but there's nothing else we can do but walk. My thigh burns beneath the bandage and I feel like I might be sick. I'm hungry. I'm hungrier than I've been in a long time. Suddenly food is the only thing that I can think about. Pitiful, I'm pitiful.

The self hatred is getting sickening too and I start to hate myself for hating myself.

How quickly does one go insane? I want to know.

Did it happen over the course of a couple of years or was it all this week? Maybe.

Maybe I'm too much in my own head. I don't hear it when a spear comes whistling through the bushes and I certainly don't see it when a body jumps out of the underbrush and stabs a sword right through Volkner's head.

It makes a meaty sound.

And Volkner falls.

Like a little boneless puppet.

I stare down at him for a moment.

There's blood gushing out of his head and the sword makes a weird sound too when it leaves his body.

I think he might be dead.

"Volkner?" I ask calmly, "Are you ok?"

He doesn't say anything and my ears pick up a vague booming, like a cannon going off. I wonder if it's for Volkner. I wonder if he's dead.

"Akira?" I ask, "Is Volkner ok?"

He'll know.

I let Volkner sit for awhile and lift my spear up. For once, there is no panic yet, though I can feel it building in my chest, pressing my tongue to the bak of my throat. Once realization sets in, I'm sure it will burst forth but for now, I'm ok.

I have to protect Volkner.

[andúril harvard attacks cesare with spear]
GFQU3_y1spear
[Deep Gash on Right Calf -- 8.0 damage + 1 strength]

spear

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Cesare Crocetti

How am I alive? I don't know the answer to the question, but I know I'm hurting. Every part of me is trying to shut down as the blood continues flowing from my hand. I've never felt this bad of pain before. Broken bones hurt, but they were still there. Still attached to my body. But even now I don't know what to do. Ollie's been crying, and I simply roll my eyes. Apparently there's more to Zeke than meets the eye. He's fought bravely, and I'm glad he's by my side. Dove seems strong, and even she wants to help me. Quite frankly I don't care. It would benefit them all to leave me behind and die, but they don't, and that's on them not me. I'm still perfectly capable of fighting even with one hand. Zeke for whatever reason decides to tape a knife to my stub. I guess it's there for a reason. I don't know.

But soon the daylight turns to night, and everyone else is drifting off to sleep. Well, I don't. Someone has to stay up and watch. Someone has to make sure we don't get under attack. For a while it seems like Dove will stay awake too, but even she falls asleep. I take out my water and decide to drink it because I need something. Something to keep me awake. Something to keep me going, and I think of the iodine tablet Zeke handed to me, and I drop it in my water. I don't know how it'll take to clean it, but I give it some time. I think of my family and of district two, and I just hope I'm making them proud. I hope they see me as a fighter and not as a weakling. I'm trying so hard, but I'm getting nowhere. Everything is falling apart, and I don't know if I can keep this up. If it wasn't for Zeke, I would probably be dead right now. A fact I don't want to share. But then my waters ready, and I guzzle it all down.

Morning comes, and Dove is up first, and I can tell she didn't want to fall asleep. "Everyone has to rest at some point. I watched out last night." For a moment I feel she'll attack me, but she doesn't. Zeke wakes up next, and then Ollie, and for whatever reason Dove plays with her hair, and once it's done we're all on our feet moving. The healer falls behind, and I wonder if he's truly a coward. If he's going to run. Something has to be done. I take a deep breath as I grip the axe tightly in my hand. All I can do is hope I make it out of this alive. Dove stops Ollie, and I watch her toss a spear through the air, and then Zeke takes off, and I watch his blade pierce the eye of another. My eyes open wide, and I watch his lifeless body fall as a cannon echoes through the sky. That healer is quite impressive.

But I've watched too long, and I'm screaming as my other ear crashes to the ground. What do they have against me and my ears? Are they trying to tear me up piece by piece? I don't know, and I can't even make sense of anything right now. My mind is racing, and I start laughing uncontrollably. The pain is unreal, but I am a career, and I refuse to cry. I refuse to let someone steal my pride away from me. I barely miss the pain slicing into my leg, and I turn around hoisting the axe into the air. I like fighting. This is my life, but I never knew it would bring me this much pain. The training academy really needs to step up its game if it wants to prepare us in anyway. They may be stealing me away, but I won't let it stop there. I take a breath, and I lock my eyes on my prize.

79th Hunger Games

[googlefont="Oswald:400"]

Cesare attacks Anduril | Axe

|Nbk|y8Waxe
11045 -- Shallow Cut on Right Shoulder -- 3.5 damageaxe

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

ollie

A peaceful harshness fell upon the eyes of one enemy, a blankness that’s unable to be described in mere words. Brown eyes of innocence widened upon the pure face of Ollie in disbelief, confusion, unwilling to comprehend what had occurred - though truly she knew all too well. The boy from twelve had performed the unforgivable by piercing his weapon across the Blonde’s friend; yet still, her heart crumbled at the outcome he deserved. Tiny knees wobbled in the absorption of it all, the brutal reality to where they’ve always been for two days. Those very legs stumbled in a rattle over to the lifeless existence, and shaken palms ventured to the Stranger’s chest in a plead to revive the irreversible demise. All threats had to be eliminated. She had to remain strong. Yet neither she was capable of grasping anymore.

Golden hair of scruff and mess wobbled as she shook her head in denial to Dove’s words and even proof. The porcelain skin of fingers, that Dove gently placed against the boy’s neck, curled back as if Ollie’s simple touch would prevent his breath from returning. His skin was still warm, radiated more heat then her own petite, clammy hands did, while she reluctantly knew it’s wouldn’t remain as such for much longer. Tears finally broke through the stubborn shield of her facade, to drift down round cheeks in a plead to refuse this knowledge of reality - except that no amount of salty droplets would alter this truth. And with that understanding, her sob grew more and more violently with every passing second.

The game would not pause with her however, and with that she did not refute Dove’s need for them to carry on. Resistance didn’t breach any further as the older girl maneuvered the Blonde upon her back. Welling features buried between Dove’s shoulders, seeking to concentrate on the last remaining softness of Five’s pajamas. Crust of dirt spotted the fluffy onesie, an oder of blood and cruelty even perfumed it, yet it was as comforting as Dove herself. The eyes of fading innocence never peered from the cushion of protection, to see Ces’s own eyes rolling, or Zeke’s emotions of guilt - and even her ears tempted to mute her from the situation.

One final statement was swallowed however, as she’s automatic to clench Dove’s tone nurture. “It’s okay Ollie, you’re allowed to cry because sometimes things are sad. Today things were sad.” If only she knew a game would scar everything with a tattoo of being sad. Perhaps she does.

- - -

Numbness returns as it had before. Optimism flickers to darkness, while darkness doesn’t even remain. The alluring environment welcomes Ollie back into the cruel reality, while not even the vision from the youth can reflect on such a sight. Could anything contain the bliss of beauty, when blood and death may paint it at any given time? Devastating wounds decorate the fierce and strength of the group, known as Ces - and the voices of Ollie’s siblings echo their desires for her to be strong like him. But how could she be when even him, the strongest she’s ever met, can be touched by a blade? Her gaze transfers to Zeke, who’s messages and company brightened her time in the Capitol - but even he has been carved with sorrow over an action he had to perform. The paralyzing nightmare of a game can not be grasped upon a screen at home.

A slither of joy craves to kindle when Ollie’s eyes transfer over to Dove. Hope seems to beam from her features, while pain must surely dwindle behind. But despite it all, she offers the youngster a taste of home. Five’s delicate fingers brush through the Blonde’s locks, Memories of sweetness tempt to shield Ollie, while a successful escape is far from permitted. Even still a smidgen of a smile spreads across her lips in gratitude, and the reign of silence follows throughout.

Perhaps she was a golden princess at one point or another in her past, while here no such title can be afforded. Her hand clings to Dove’s once more, in her plead to be just that for the one from Five - while her other palm clenches her weapon, to be the tiny warrior her siblings need her to be…who Bella Rose would want her to be.

The peace of quiet thoughts scurry Ollie along to maintain with the others, though her heart jumps and complies to Dove’s force to position behind her once again. There was no protest to what was approaching, though she comprehended no warnings herself. And sure enough, threats emerge from the unknown once more, just as they had yesterday, and the day before that. Blades release automatically, while the Blonde is left frozen in a desperation to wish this cycle away. No luck. No surprise. And the rhythm repeats once more.

Another death. Another cannon. But stillness doesn’t follow this time.

“C…Ces…” Blood spews from him just as it had before, but she knows he can’t conclude the situation immediately… no one could. Danger threats across Dove as well, but Ollie knows that Zeke will protect her just as he had seconds prior and yesterday. Perhaps numbness will coax the Blonde until her final breath. Perhaps she’ll never be a princess again or a warrior ever. Surely she’ll never compete with the ones amongst her. But maybe, just maybe, she can protect them. And with her need to be a warrior, she protects the only one she knows - with everything, if anything, that she has.

{Ollie Brooke attacks Anduril ~ Flail}
T7XVHOSvflail
{12162 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
(Flail)}

Accuracy Reroll

flail
{12131 -- Broken Right Collar Bone -- 6.5 damage
(Flail)}flail�flail

[Arrows]

Boom.

Shutters shriek mixing in a corrupted chorus with the cries of a child. Pleas of forgotten promises persist from my lips leaking with the begging of a girl not ready yet to become a woman. Refutation rattles the rafters already swiftly shaking in the brutal breeze. Figures both Fatherly and Motherly do not give in to their daughter's desperate demands. Instead they thrust me forth from the safety of my seed into the full blossoming of womanhood. A small rose that had no time to create thorns to protect itself and the other seeds still surrounding it in the soil. 

"Akira? Is Volkner okay?"

A small soul with heavy hands pulls on the hems of my make shift shirt. "Dove? Does this look okay?" Kestrel's question brings a smile soft to my cheeks despite the terrible tiredness pulling my eye lids down with gravity. "You look beautiful little bird." Her eyes ignite with energetic illumination, a spectrum of splendor conducted by a compliment. Steps soon stop such a symphony of joy as a face familiar but foreign turns towards the doorway. Mother's eyes meet mine after viewing the dress I made her youngest daughter for the first day of school . "You truly are lovely." She says before leaving once more with me sitting as Mother in her place. 

"C..Ces..."

Terror trickles over my mirror images' complexion forged by the fever she is fighting. Small running rivers seep down her skin while wells of water replenish her mouth from my cup. Sickly she hardly handles words being whispered, so in silence I search the skies and vacant heavens for mercy. I am not a believer, but this night my body bends and bows towards any possible celestial sentience. Amid my foolish forming of prayers I swear I hear what will be my second  half's final sounds. "D...Dove..." I will her out of worry and a shattering soul that I cannot show to stay silent and rest. I'm still not a believer, but the next morning her fever finally broke. 

A sword slams into my leg.

A sudden scream splits my lips.

Around me an area of intricate and delicate design has become the formation of a putrid plague. Trees once lush with life and brimmed with moss now stand sprayed in scarlet. Among the wrangled roots of the ancient living towers death drips from the face of the boy from One. Another soul sent shivering down to the depths of eternal darkness. Another soul seen through the eyes of a stunned starving girl from District Five. 

The panic now pulsating from my perception of injury muddies my mind. Thoughts compiled of long complicated chains become short simple instincts of survival. Danger, although with one drawn away by death, roars in rage and loss. We struck first, but the lion is not yet dead. Like crocodiles we must punish it for venturing into our water ways. In such a poetic phrasing, the thought of having to continue to try killing these other children seems almost bearable. 

Steps shift from my side as Ollie engages in the dangerous delirium. I begin to break for her hand but Raven's rough voice suddenly stops my motion. You can't do anything if you're dead. The thought makes my grip around the chilling cold of my next spear immensely tighter. This entire time I've been battling to protect the purity of innocence itself, but in order to keep doing so I must also ensure my own survival. 

I turn now towards Ezekiel, perhaps the strongest bolt of lightning in this horrific hurricane. His face forgoes him from hiding the shock now staining his skin from a second kill since becoming a tribute. He once thought himself a healer, but now finds himself the very thing which frightens me the most as well. 

A killer.

"Zeke." I still say hoping to outweigh the depths of his despair. "I need your help, please." He's saved all of us once already, maybe he can save us again. My stomach turns as my spear aims towards my attacker.  I am not a fighter, but I am survivor. 

Dove attacks Belladonna Ruze // Javelins

oVZlvV5Zjavelin

{Block}

Accuracy Re-Roll
javelin
{SHALLOW CUT ON CALF -- 3.5 damage}

javelin�javelin

[Knuckles]

should've stayed, were there signs, I ignored?
can I help you, not to hurt, anymore?
we saw brilliance, when the world, was asleep
there are things that we can have, but can't keep

A lump sat awkwardly in the back of his throat the moment he felt the sword pierce the eye of the unexpecting career. The weight of the deceased rest on his hands, and a cannon echoed before the body even crumbled. Another light went out because another family had to say goodbye before it was time. Another life gone by his hands, and Zeke didn't know what to do especially when the district four male asked if he was okay.

Just moments after his mother died, Haley asked those same words; "Zeke, is she okay?" It brought tears to his eyes, yet he refused to let them fall. All he had to offer his younger sister at that time was a hug, but he couldn't hug the man who just lost a friend. Even in the hospital, Zeke gave the family a comforting moment. He was there for them, but this was different.

No, he's not okay.

I'm not okay.

Am I?

A broken heart clawed at the prison walls begging for an escape. Every breath caught in the back of this throat. Weak knees wobbled, and even a growling stomach couldn't change the fight raging on within. It took a spark, and now a flame was growing. A pit sat in his stomach gnawing at his insides while the world spun rapidly making it almost impossible to stand. This wasn't what he wanted - killing was the last thing on his mind, but in a world where only one survived, it had to happen.

Nobody could fault him for trying to keep his allies alive, but more importantly, Zeke wanted to make it home to the one man who loved him more than anything. His father was waiting for him no matter what the games did to him, and right now a hug sounded so nice. A nice warm embrace to let him know that it would all work out. But it wouldn't work out when the lives of two innocent souls rest heavily on his shoulders.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the air - Zeke didn't even have to look to see who it was because the laughter followed. Cesare was in trouble just like he was the day before. Killing one of the careers didn't matter because the others were alive, and they were a threat. The career boy from two wasn't the most social person, but his life mattered - he wasn't just another light that would leave, and Zeke wasn't ready to say goodbye to one of his own regardless of how much his broken heart bled.

Heavy eyes locked on the ground. Why look someone in the face when he was simply there to kill them? Zeke didn't want to watch the life leave their eyes. It was different helping a person in the hospital pass into whatever world awaited them, but sending someone there when they were perfectly healthy didn't add up, but that was the hunger games. It had to happen.

Another scream crashed into his mind, and his eyes lifted from the ground to find Dove standing alone begging for help. Ollie was helping Cesare, and Dove was alone trapped in the midst of it all. But even then, Zeke couldn't bring himself to move. Cement replaced his blood making his body heavier than it already was.

"Zeke, I need your help, please."

Not even days before Dove called him out for being a monster for simply trying to live, and now he wanted his help. It didn't make sense. Why would they want help from someone who carved scars into their body just a couple days before? Why would anyone want help from a cold blooded killer? It crushed him even more, and the weight pressing on his shoulders grew heavier. Yet he couldn't bring himself to speak. A simple nod of the head was all he had. Cesare had Ollie, the young, brave warrior by his side while Dove had the monster.

Table by Calla <3
lyrics: One More Light - Linkin Park

Ezekiel attacks Belladonna | Sword
CXVImYGusword

{results: 1116 -- Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage}sword

[lance]

AKIRA

SOKATOA

Reach is foreign to a boy like you who doesn't stand a centimeter over five foot six, and yet the polearm feels so natural it's hard for you to believe that it isn't an extension of your own body. Metal cleaves through flesh and cartilage like it would air - the resulting cry of pain shocks you as much as it likely did your target as a mound of flesh and blood lands on dirt with a sickening plop.

Bile raises in your throat, and you're suddenly grateful for the fact that no food has entered your stomach in the last two days, for if it had then you had no doubt that it'd be returning from whence it came in force. When you retch, nothing emerges, and for that, at least, you can still claim some tenuous grasp on your pride.

A cannon sounds, too loud and too close to be anything but coincidence, and you steal a look to the group you left behind. You'd known that Bella was fierce and Volkner savage, so the sound doesn't surprise you as much as it likely would have.

But eyes rebuke ears, for while three do indeed stand where four once had, it is two heads of black and one of brown still standing, blond laying on the dirt with a mask of red where seconds ago there'd been only pale flesh and two chips of ice.

"Akira?" You're grateful that Andy is your ally and not a viper in the grass, for if his attentions had held the slightest hint of maliciousness you'd have four fangs sinking into your ankle right then and there. "Is Volkner ok?"

A rhetorical question had anyone perhaps Andy himself asked it, and yet you do not blame the sincerity of the question, for disbelief and shock is running rampant through your head as well. When you'd heard the indignant shout, you'd turned your back fully with the belief that your Career companions would deal with the threat while you struck the core, never thinking for a single second that the duo from the middle districts would strike a kill in the midst of three Careers.

But the Games had made fools of those much wiser and more powerful than you before, and they would do so long after your bones crumbled to dust.

Mind racing a mile a minute, you think to how you had weaved around the very boy in your attempt to strike where it was least expected. One small wrinkle in time and space, and that could have very well been you with your face on the wrong end of the sword.

Andy's words hit a realization that you have not responded, and yet you have no words in which to answer. "I..." you manage, chapped lips and dry throat cracking in harmony as sound emerges from within, two days of only the barest minimum of use making its mark.

You know the truth. The cannon had sounded, the visual evidence was undeniable. And yet you can't find yourself believing it. "I don't know, Andy," comes the response. A blatant lie, and you think you both know it, but there's no point in panicking now.

Easier said than done, you find, even as Bella moves to pick up the slack dropped onto her shoulders by striking at both of the initial attackers on her own. Lighting quick, the blade that had once been yours sinks into the arm of the attacking girl, and with some reluctance you turn away. She'll be fine, thinks the optimistic part of your conscious. Just like Volkner was fine? retorts the cynic.

You turn, nonetheless, to see that while you had your back turned, Andy had chosen to follow the patterns of history and strike at his fellow Career. And in turn, he'd dealt the brunt of the retaliations. Blood leaks from a slice on his shoulder, and as you watch, the little girl swings a weapon that looks almost too heavy for her to carry, let alone wield, towards his chest. The resounding CRACK that follows causes you to involuntarily wince, and you realize that with each second you stand around worrying, a hundred opportunities for death of both sides just came and went.

So you move, blade once again dancing towards the boy from Two, for letting Andy take the brunt of your sins is not a burden you are willing to give up just yet.

One way or another, you'll finish what you started.

inspired by briar

akira attacks cesare; glaive

514nCPRVglaive

13088 -- Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage

glaive

[maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte]]

[presto][/presto]

"The future can't
be real, I
barely know how
long a moment is"

Companions turn to dust between my fingertips and I cannot help but cling to the ones that remain. He's dead, reaper with fangs bared. We bathe within our failure and my breath catches with every cannon's scream. Fuck. I can feel madness, vines wrapped around my throat and if I could breathe I might scream. Bathed in ignorance the boys I have so foolishly sworn myself to protect ask questions that I cannot bring myself to answer. Will Volkner be okay? We were trained, him and I. We were made of steel, forged in war and yet he lays upon the ground. Dying. Dead. It was not enough.

So I know that I am not enough. Doubt is for weaker men. For those with egos larger than their hearts and I cannot help but taste the fear that crawls down my throat. They strike. Scratching skin, denting armor. I could kill myself more efficiently than they have managed. I wonder, for a moment, if that would be a better idea. Not to give the Capitol the satisfaction of felling me with an amateurs blow.

Like Volkner, oh Volkner. "Poor man." I've never felt something like this. My insides twisting inside, curling in on themselves and I am boiling over. In fear. In rage. I watch as a grayscale world bursts to life, white blood exploding crimson and this must be what its like to live. For once. To see death and to feel his hands upon a throat of one who I had seen simply moments ago. Yes, I can feel my hearts beating. For once. Up in my throat and had I known it would be this excruciating I would have never befriended foolish boys with fire in their eyes.

It's temporary. Oh, I know it's temporary. The walls crafted by my grandmother cannot be felled so easily by petty things such as death and fear. They are made of stronger stuff than glass and I know that as time passes - caught within baited breaths - I will forget how much it hurts to see him die. The shock has worn off, replaced with something much more potent. I yearn to place my lips upon his forehead and wish him luck upon the journey to come.

Perhaps he's lucky. He's already going home. "Oh, Volkner, I'm so sorry."

Vengeance is all that's left.

[attacks dove elsu -- sword]
vAMawlT_sword
[Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage]

sword

[gamemaker kelsier]

[presto][/presto]

"some miracle man
must have
shot me while
i wake"

gonna be bussing all day back to seoul so this has to be a filler! Andy is freaking the fuck out rn though and also worried about volkner and pls someone get this boy a weed ok?

[andúril harvard attacks cesare with spear]
|RU73PGGspear
[block]

[accuracy]
spear
[Stabbed in Stomach -- 9.5 damage + 1 strength]

spear�spear

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Cesare Crocetti

Every part of my being aches, but the pain is slowly going away. Despite the blood gushing from the various parts of my body, it almost all feels peaceful. I'm not afraid of dying. It's never once crossed my mind what happens, but I know that the end is nearing, and I know that I've done the best that I could. It isn't my fault that these career monsters want to chop down one of their own, but I know I'm making my family and my district proud. That is all that I need right now in this moment. Nobody can take away what I've worked for. Nobody can deny that I haven't trained for this. Nobody can tell me that I'm a worthless career. They're all targeting me because I'm the biggest threat here. They know if they don't kill me now, they'll stand no chance of making it out of this alive.

The laughter continues even as the spear pierces my stomach, and I feel my body giving in. The light is leaving, and I'm ready to follow it onto the next world. Training has been tiring, and now that I'm here, I realize how pathetic those career trainers truly are. They haven't paved the way for a career victor in such a long time. Why would I be any different? Blood leaks from the corner of my mouth as I feel my legs growing weaker. I'm not afraid. I refuse to let anyone think I'm afraid. I just want to fight. It's all I know how to do. I want to go down with a weapon in my hand. I want to go down standing showing the world that even as someone tears me apart piece by piece that I'm capable of standing on my own without anyone assisting me. It's amazing that they haven't taken down the one handed career yet.

I look at Zeke, and he's standing so tall and brave. He's done what I've wanted to do all my life. He's taken the life of two people. He's gone from being a healer to a killer and he's only had the training offered in the Capitol. Dove is doing well acting as a mom. Ollie is standing her ground for being such a young child, and it's time that I do something. I want to make my name known to every around. I tighten my grip on the axe, and I continue the quest moving forward. All I can do is make myself proud, and I refuse to go down without a fight. I refuse to let the world take me away until I've done all that I can do. So I muster up all my remaining strength, and I take a deep breath. I'm not afraid, and even though I'm fading away, I want people to fear me so that my legacy carries on for all eternity.

79th Hunger Games

[googlefont="Oswald:400"]

Cesare attacks Anduril | Axe

WbLswv61axe
11054 -- Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damageaxe

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

ollie

Uncertainty continues to rattle the likes of Ollie’s arms. To such a point the foreign weapon embraces more awkwardly upon the palm too petite for it’s handle. Would it be due to the horrors of the situation at hand? The hollow pit in her core from lack of consuming food nor water? Was it the nausea suddenly overtaking her being, and if so was that caused by the game or the hunger? Perhaps the reasoning did not even matter, as the effect was prevalent and gruesome despite the cause. Either origin didn’t alter the faulty placement of her aim, nor did it seize her determination to strike once more. Finally the threats of her weapon clash into something other then the void of air, and once more she’s left baffled. Was it metal or bone to clang from her wicked means? Was that even relevant? Did anything truly matter within such a place?

A yelp breaches from Ollie when a secret hole collapses her into the world below. Further weakness cradles her into despair. Slashes of rocks and roots scratch against her exterior, bones ache from the impact, but a plead for help doesn’t follow. Shaken fingers claw into the dirt to release from such an obstacle. A useless label may seek to paint her, while she will do all in her power to prevent such.

Once freed, eyes of purity pierce upon the nearby depleted existence that’s crumbling into the unforgiving ground, as if already succumbing to the nature of decomposing. Why would any reason gain importance when it did not alter the fact all would collapse into demise one day? It’s then that she realizes the second victim to Zeke’s unknown ways, the title and roots he once possessed. The boy from one, who shares a position to Bella Rose’s victim from the former game. But it wasn’t an orphan from the Pound to conquer such a kill upon a Career like Bella had; it was doubtful Ollie ever could. Teeth clench in a continued desperation to swallow this newfound reality.

The violence speeds once more from the reduced speed it contained momentarily. “Zeke.” A voice, as beautiful as a bird’s, sings out for. Instantaneously the chirp is registered as Dove’s, snapping Ollie’s attention to her in fear - as if the tiny Blonde could possibly achieve anything in assisting. “I need your help, please.” It’s the assassin healer that she’s hollering for. Has destruction fallen upon her? Do mere breaths remain in her continuation?

The carve of weapons sound from every which way. The savor, known to the rugrat as Zeke, dashes to Dove’s aid. A minor slash gains upon her by another. A swift glimpse reassures the Five’s decency, despite the slight dangers upon her skin. But it’s the opponents that declare Ollie’s stare - the other Careers, and their layers of armor, that surround them. The companion from the deceased’s district has her eyes set upon Dove, while the other two crave for the opposing Career within the misfit group. One amongst them feels unplaced, as unplaced as Ollie, Zeke, Ces, and Dove are altogether. After a moment it’s realized that despite being submerged between career District, District Three is not amongst them in such an aspect. Yet one from such joins them despite, while his strikes are just as dangerous…while still it’s the true Career from four to implement the harshest of it all.

“NO!” A scream is irresistible from the Blonde, as her trembling, raising volume seeks to halt it all. But it wont. They wont. Nothing will.

The spear digs through Ces’s stomach further then Ollie wishes to know. Eyes pry to shut in resistance, yet they remain wide in her stare despite. “Ces… Make them stop. You can’t leave us.,, Please…” Vision shifts to Ces himself, wondering if that would be the hay to break the back… but it’s not. The evident strength within him continues to reign. Surely his seconds are ticking, but a chance still lingers. Fingers tighten amongst their only hope, the weapon attached to the youngster too small to ever really wield it. But she must. Hope is slim, and she must grasp it while it’s present. Numbness fades. Sorrows dissipates. And the lack of both emotions transfer to another, rarely felt, sensation… anger.

{Ollie Brooke attacks Anduril ~ Flail}
VH15DVfJflail
{12078 -- Broken Right Collar Bone -- 6.5 damage
(Flail)}flail

[Arrows]

It's mystifying, the way the mind alters itself. The way perceptions of peril are sculpted into feelings of caring. He is a beast born with boiling dragon's blood in his veins. His eyes emit intensity and his voice flickers with the flames of his making. Every inch of him is mythical, made as a perfect warrior for all plains. But even dragons with the hardest scales have secret spots of weakness in their shells of steel. I didn't see his until now as their weapon reap pain across his slicing skin. 

From across the bleeding battlefield bludgeoned with bright blood I am merely a witness to his withering. A once celestial being now with his soul being shackled to severe suffering. His opponents ostracize his ethereal existence and sentence him to terrible torture. Yet still within their storm of slicing steel, he battles back with raging roars and substantial strength. Unable to give in to death's dawning, he rides on his wings above the growing pit of darkness. 

While he wages his own war, the battle before myself has not concluded. Swift with seemingly endless stores of strength the dead boy's counterpart is certainly capable of killing a bird of peace. Luckily this bird, although wounded and wilting towards the harsh forest floor, has a knight dripping in stolen scarlet at her aid. He swipes at my attacker driving her off for minute of managing the pain. It pulsates from my leg streaking through my veins like living lightning. My face contorts as I bring myself to stand once more instead of kneeling. The Dove catches itself before driving into the ground. 

As a new spear still fresh and untainted trembles in my hands, a sorrowful scream brought forth from the lips of innocence acquires all of my instant attention. Once standing unscathed by the brutal battle, Ollie vanishes in a frightened flurry into the earth. My heart heaves taking home inside the sudden tension of my throat. I expect the rumbling roar of a canon to christen the air, but no sounds erupt. Instead she crawls out of the hole dirty and barely bleeding, a sight that sends my heart back down south with a sigh. 

With relief of her safety, I am able to look back towards the trained and true hunter I am opposite to. Her eyes hunger with the desire to drain life from my living soul. I can feel my feet faltering, requesting to run but my mind manages to overcome the fear. I am on trial. As my allies bleed and bury themselves into the heart of this arena's horror, I have an option. Remain weak and simply flying above the smoke lines of this hellfire. Or dive in letting my wings ignite with an ounce of bravery. 

I spear shifts towards the danger, and for the first time I'm fine with falling fully into the fight. 

Dove attacks Belladonna Ruze // Javelins

XhBggbkMjavelin

{SHALLOW CUT ON CALF -- 3.5 damage}

javelin