crowned killers // {K&M} Victory Tour

[Arrows]

Indifference illuminates the center of his eyes. Casualty cripples his past but somehow life lifts his hand. The menacing click of merciless mechanics shoots shock down Kirito's frozen figure. Sue's finger flips the trigger and in a burst the bullet built for devastation drives deep through Kirito's skull. A shout of anguish erupts from the confused cacophony of Kirito's mouth as in a flailing frenzy he falls from his chair. 

Sweat stains his skin, another fresh mark of reality creeping into disarray. Fresh doubts of the strength of his sanity seeps into his mind. Even now escaped from the mind-made-madness, songs of shadows sour Kirito's ears sung by a chorus of children alive in melody yet buried beneath the earth in actuality. With everyday another inch down the ladder into darkness Kirito falls. With everyday another step further down the path winding towards the renewed cell containing an evil escaped and named nearly ten years earlier.

Kirito has little chance to turn his trembling into slight shuddering by the time he hears the empty applause following the conclusion of Mackenzie Pryce's speech. Again District Seven has achieved ascension from hellish horrors created by the Capitol. In a sway of sickening guilt, Kirito realizes how little his heart hangs for his own buried brother and sister of the 79th arena. This year his mind had kept him occupied within an arena of its own. Alas, he knows quite a bit about Mackenzie. He seems like one of the more human victors, a lot of the tributes in his arena did. 

As bodies begin to bludgeon into the Justice Building, Kirito walks calmly towards the newest member of an endlessly growing monarchy of murderers. Gently he taps him on his shoulder, Kirito can't name how many times he's witnessed the jumpiness of a newly crowned victor. It's one of the hardest challenges, returning to the world which watched you slaughter for survival. 

"The weather's great in the evenings here," Kirito offers a genuine smile, "Care to join me for a walk? Get away from the noise and the eyes for a while?"

[umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]]

dust the dust up
off your shoulders
you’ll come round
and be h u m a n again

He was only on the second leg of a lifelong race against time: he understood that. There was no leaving that arena, there was only returning to it for as long as he lived, watched as others followed his footsteps or failed to do so. It was horrid and cruel, and the worst part of it was that he knew none of these people were happy to see him alive.

This was the Capitol's way of taunting them all: We won again; you lost. Again."

He hated being reduced to an intimidation tactic, hated the experience he'd had in Twelve, watching as Cassia and Gabriel's families wept and mourned, wished that Mackenzie had died so that their loved ones could've come home. Perhaps Mackenzie's penance for surviving was to simply wish he hadn't.

Not too long ago, District Eleven had been lucky. Jacquelyn said the air of expectation was still very much alive after they managed to get so many victors in such a short amount of time. She said they still had hope for better things, that the Capitol had been keeping a close eye on them. He'd been worried about what that meant for him, the lone person who'd prevented yet another victor from joining their ranks.

But, just as with Twelve, he'd climbed onto a platform in front of them all, delivered a speech about how soon their tributes were taken. He could have apologized for not saving them; he'd been present for both of them. The girl in the bloodbath and the boy in the feast.

Jacquelyn and Jacinta both suggested he distance himself from them as much as possible, take as little blame as he could manage, so he did.

He stood backstage afterward, his hands shaking from nerves, or anxiety, or something equally stress-inducing, surrounded by a team of peacekeepers. It was strange to think they would've given their lives to protect him when they worked for the people who'd tried so hard to kill him.

Kirito came as a surprise, managed to squeeze past his guards and start speaking before one of them had the chance to catch him by the arm.

"He's fine," Mackenzie said, and the guard let him go. He then looked over at the other victor.

"And I would love to."

Maybe a walk would be enough to outrun his demons, if only for a bit.