That's a Big Beastie // [Gangsters vs. Mutts Day 2]

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

HARLAN ELLISON

Hibernation was such a delight. Now that the skies had warmed, he found himself waking more and more often, just to enjoy the sun on his thick fur. He'd slept so long, he'd forgotten if there were any others like him, or if he was the last Grand Sloth in the land. No matter. So long as the tar pits were cool, and the sun was bright, and there were tasty morsels -

Oh yes.

There were tasty morsels.

[Harlan attacks Carter Laws; spiked blunt]

PW5Xpnj9mspiked blunt

[MISS -- 0.0 damage]

RANGER

On the morning of the second day of the 80th Games, Ranger found herself in unfamiliar territory. She'd been out exploring, reconnaissance to find the best hidey hole, when the forest had given away to bushy hillside. Her nose had pricked up at unfamiliar scents. Delicious scents. Only someone had beaten her to the punch.

Ranger stretched her legs, growling first at the giant, lumbering thing, before turning her attention to the prey.

[Ranger attacks Carter Laws; knife (teeth)]

knife

[Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage]

GINA

She'd been up early to frolic with her littermates when the wind shifted and brought the smell of breakfast. Gina and Lyla broke away from the pack, their soft paws making not a sound as they approached the Tar Pits. For a moment, they hung back, watching the larger muttations size up the tributes. Then slowly, with tails wagging, they descended behind another.

[Gina attacks Larceny Theft; knife (teeth)]

knife

[Shallow Cut on Right Shoulder -- 3.5 damage]

LYLA

Lyla had tried to sleep in, but her brothers and sisters simply wouldn't allow it. Up up, they said! Today will be a great day! She grumbled until Gina pinned her, swatting her chin playfully. They couldn't say no to the call on the wind, such was the power of their breeding. Lyla followed Gina and her hungry stomach to the Tar Pits, ready for a snack.

[Lyla attacks Larceny Theft; knife (teeth)]

knife

[Severed Right Ear -- 8.0 damage]

spiked blunt·knife·knife·knife

[Arrows]

<><><><><><><>

I've always felt more sheltered in the shapes of the shadows. When night comes crawling through the sky stretched branches of the living sky scrapers, my mind melts into an alert sense of ease. My ears are perked yet my body is bending into a state of rest beside a nearby trunk. Even in the cloak of darkness, no nature other than the giants roam these woods. Not a single cricket sings its song. Not a single owl hoots hovering somewhere slightly out of sight. Not even a mouse manages to scurry and scuttle through the fallen leaves of the forest floor. It's as though this world's will of life exists solely in the heart of these trees forever reaching for the heavens. Perhaps this was their punishment for coming so close to the Gods, an eternity of nothingness. Alas, now they are not alone and instead stand as witnesses to a fresh slaughter summoned by the same vehement Gods. 

From my side, my sister stirs despite it being my time to watch for lurking dangers. I'm certain she too feels the same pull to life beneath the lost light of the missing moon. I am curious as why the sky seems so muted by an undetectable source of light, but I am sure such a question will come to be answered in time. For now I focus on the flicking face of Auto as her eyes shutter into slits, a sign of her undeniable presence away from her realm of slumber. As much as I long to adventure with her through the arena allowing our atrocities to bring full fear into the faces of our opponents, I am well aware such actions are more risky than worth it. So with a sarcastic roll of my eyes I set a slight flick across the tip of her nose. 

"Get more sleep. Our job is in the morning."

Sure as thunder follows lightning her voice follows mine. An obvious sentence of denial slips from her lips, but in this moment I won't submit. I'm sure she knows as much as I do that with our current states of slit skin and bruised bodies, we need rest in order to fight with the fiercest fires of our existence. I wonder what we would have doing this night back home among sewer stained streets and empty alleyways. What ways Father would find to exploit us, to control us. Yet as anger floods my veins thinking of the man of our making, I know she sees him differently. Despite the damage he's dealt and the scars he has left staining our skins and our souls, a brightly burning fire of desire to impress him lives inside her center. She finds euphoria beneath the wings of the devil while I find eternal damnation. But as much as I despise acceptance of such beliefs, there are moments like now where it can be beneficial. 

"Don't give me that crap," I say with a tone sewn together by teasing, "If we don't sleep we can't prove ourselves to Him. So sleep."

The words taint my tongue with unrelenting bile, but I control my urge to bite them back. Although she knows my stance she is well aware such sentences only ever leave my lips in times of absolute seriousness. So the slits of her eyes shut and she ventures back down a road leading her to the lands of her dreams. I question whether she sees similar scenes to myself when welcoming the kiss the of sleep. Does her mind amalgamate with my visions of swirling star dust and circling winds of golden glory? Does she find herself in a state of rapture before the pandemonium of a world where she can reap treasures to the tantamount degree? Does she see herself as more than a mortal girl beaten by her Father? Does she see herself as something more, something freer? Because I do. I see it every time, an ever lasting reminder of what happens when love transfigures into betrayal. 

By the time fatigue finally begins taking possession of my figure, Maxwell is rising from his own time of sleep. Out of all those with me among these trees of life leeching abilities, he is the one who remains an unaccounted for integer. The equation of success which has been spawning in my psyche since the second Auto was called for a sentence in Hell desires definitions for all its variables. And in this present moment Maxwell is entirely undefined, however, there is something I innately like about him. There is a hunger to know more, to learn. And I suppose a scene like this where the world lays writing in darkness and uncertainty around us is as good as ever, even if its short. 

"Are you afraid at all?"

The question is simple but also complex. On a base level, it asks easily whether a certain emotion is present in his current emotional space. But dig down deeper into the heat and the heart of the question, there is an interest to know whether he holds confidence towards the terrors to come. I remember Father asking me the same question as I stood stunned before a bleeding boy not much older than myself. He had stolen from those who stole, a thief among thieves. His punishment was to be beaten into reconciliation. At that moment I was afraid and uncertain of my actions, but since that day, since my decision to accept the world and to survive within it, I haven't been. 

"I think I could be. But I won't be," my eyes looking towards my sleeping second half, "I can't afford the luxury of fear."

Our midnight moment ended shortly after that with my head heavily joining the fallen leaves on the forest floor. As always, I embraced my ascension into the ethereal dancing among the celestial constellations. I spin through furling flames of solar flares and fly with wings of golden grace. I live as angel of the cosmos weaving through an endless universe of mysteries and color. I exist entirely as a boy who is able to play knowing no limits of necessity or suffering. For a brief instance, I am just a jovial child of the heavens untouchable by the pains of reality. 

But these dreams die with the ascension of the sun.

In the hours of morning, our steps take far into the forest. My eyes watch our every step and search for any abnormalities. I already know there is one girl within this world with a brain as sharp as a sword and strong with skills of trapping. Although I have not seen Bette since entering this arena, I have no doubt she is utilizing every inch of her capabilities. She is a variable in my equation with an incredible potential for the destruction of the desire to steal the crown. She is absolutely intriguing and undoubtedly deadly.

A scent foreign and harsh comes over our pack's proceedings with a whirl of disgust. I feel my body lurch in response but refuse to release the few morsels of food still fighting off an unreal hunger within my stomach. Soon the scenery shifts to match the dreadful smell of decay. Trees turn to ruin and forest floor gives way to black bubbling death. Tar pits, natural and more wild than that of the items wielding by fire blessed warriors. We've reached a region which is nothing short of the Gods' hearts exposed here on earth:

Black and Destructive.

"Well this place sucks," I say turning towards the others with a look of annoyance angling my face, "You'd think Glamour would be the first person to not have such an ugly area in his arena."

Perhaps I should have thought more about dissing a God in his heartland for as soon as I do danger erupts. Teeth tear at my flesh and suddenly I am stumbling back with a hand pressed heavily to my head. An ear once there now lies in the stomach of one of the beasts. I pull out my sword turning to Maxwell with a short scoff.

"Still can't afford it," a smirk of pain tilts my cheeks upward as I look towards the thief of my ear, "Auto, let's go."

Then I drive forward without an inch of fear.

<><><><><><><>

Larceny attacks Lyla // LongSword
vytsi|6rWsword
{Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage}

sword

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

<><><><><><><>

The euphoria of pride glides the edges of my lips in a manner never consumed before. Countless of times the success of satisfying Father upon yet another accomplished mission would spark an abundance of confidence within the likes of my irises; while such achievements never tickled the muscles of my cheeks like this does. A tiny bird cradles against the alike petiteness of my frame, without a flinch on my end for a second attempt at capturing it. A sarcastic comment coils in response from my other half, while a bird of his own doesn’t follow suit in his arms after his temptation for his own. Gently the tips of my fingers comb through the small black feathers upon the head of my new friend.

“And this one I won’t kill…” Assures from my lips rather questionably, in reply to his reminisce on the mouse companion I simply felt like experimenting on a few years back. “Unless I have to.” Corrects my previous statement with a shrug, and an obnoxious honk blurts in a distasteful reaction from my new friend as though he understood me. “That we’ll have to work on, or you will have to die -“ My words halt their warning in question to this new thing’s name. “Con, I’ll call you Con.” Innocently establishes from my facade voice of sweetness, as if no threat to his life had just been made… Though a threat to all of ours lingers upon every corner, crevasse, and tree - literally.

The skin of my fingers tighten around the handle of my stumbled upon weapon, in warning of the intruders. A threat brews both physically and verbally before us, pluming my knuckles into a pale shade in instinct to respond brutally to their boldness. A hand will be lost if placed upon this stranger? “You wanna-“ Begins to growl from my core, before Larceny’s grip upon my wrist pauses me from my swift, rash reaction. Without a word he’s right, as per usual, these people aren’t worth the time. Especially when the gifts of our foolish bravery distracts us from such an unnecessary mess.

Broken skin mends to the best ability, while the souls they package are beyond repairable. Aid flourished before us in desire for our greedy pickings, and gnaw to kiss away the external scars of our futures. Not once does my hold loosen upon my true prized possession however, the blackness of my Con. Even when we lay for the night, he tucks himself away within the bloodiness of my existence, unbothered by even the bickering of two halves.

Eyes crinkle upon my features at Larceny’s demand to gather more sleep, as if any had truly been claimed - true slumber would be inevitable once the mission had begun. “Our job has already started, and won’t end now for a while.” Correction spews across my tongue in a battle against his wisdom. Perhaps he is the brains upon our union of whole, while it’s not as though I lack all intelligence. But the snap that returns from his determination furrows my brow in worry for his overall knowledge, in more then solely wisdom.

Gentle accusation appears to weave from his words, though certainty of such is not precise. Would Him be our Father, or the original head Game Maker? Or someone entirely different? And if the first were to be it, had he been aware of the lack of distaste I pertain for the man who created us - and all that we are? Not even another whisper curls from my throat, as I succumb to his demand with a hopeful assumption it’s due to the deep marks scarring my body, and sleep’s chance of healing.

Another annoyingly overbearing honk alerts me from my restless attempt to sleep. Automatically two of my fingers clamp around my alarm clock’s beak, unpleased by his rude welcoming into the realm that’s already cruel on it’s own. “Listen, Con - you better stop with that damn honking or you will be breakfast.” Promises in a tone that makes his grey eyes widen in comprehension. And sure enough the hidden sunrise to follow doesn’t breach any pleasantries either. Walking barrels us in a silence of appearing determination, as if a location and meaning carved an X into the treasure map of our existence.

Further sarcasm carols in a humorous harmony from Larceny’s angered melancholy tune, insulting the Crafter of this Game we’ve been forced to play. And as if truly offending the Master himself, four legged enemies embark from the unknown with a vicious vision of payback. Before my eyes manage to even adjust to the situation at hand, one claws it’s teeth across my Brother’s shoulder - while the other swallows one of his ears entirely.

“Auto, let’s go.” He instructs without a wince of pain appearing in his tone. The tip of his sword carves into the one who dared such a brutal consumption, and without thought I follow suit - determined to retrieve the priceless chunk the wolf dared to steal from the masters of thieving.

<><><><><><><>

{Auto attacks Lyla ~ Spiked Blunt}
0m1u6BEPLspiked blunt
{14149 -- STABBED IN BACK -- 9.0 damage
(Spiked Blunt) +1 for Strength}

spiked blunt

[Tom]

<><><><><><><>

Night descends quicker than Carter would have expected. Shadows creeping up on them as the tall trees cover them from the sky and the pitch blackness eats away at them. The temperature drops with a chill to his teeth flashing a memory of camping the backyard in the middle of fall with Jack and Mitchell when they were younger. The time they spent fully awake through out the night telling scary stories and playing card games until the sun rose above. If only he could go back to those times where smiles felt genuine and not shrouded with inner pain. Pity on Jack's face and the irritability in his tone coming to life after Mitchell's death.

A sigh falls from his lips as Auto, Lars, and Max do their own thing, leaving him to his cards and under a tree of his own, back pressed hard to it with eyes scanning the area. Flipping reds and black over and over again with ease as the calming sound of flickering cards eases him in a place where no ease exists. Grounds him to the reality that death is at every corner, which is why he stays up and on his own for now. No need to worry the others, not on this night. The guilt of bloodbath filling his chest up as he can remember the blood of his allies who didn't deserve the wounds. Carter Laws was meant to be the threat, not the Thefts or Max. Bette's words in the hallway before Caesar Flickerman got his way with him rings in his ears.

I suppose we'll have to watch out for you.

Eyes were meant to be on him and never the others. The threat was himself with his deck of cards and axe wielding hand. Guilt feeds at his chest as he glances up to the twins talking and Max doing his own thing. In his heart, he can feel the uneasiness of wounds as he glances to where they had been. Now covered in needles and bandages to heal those spots, he gulps at the sight of Max, Lars, and Auto. They were injured because he couldn't protect them. Mitchell had always been better at that. Taking whippings for Jack. Protecting Desi, Asha, and Jenoah from dying in fights back to back. Sacrificing himself for the hit of a yeti, knowing it would be deadly. Knowing that meant Carter would be alone once again.

No tears come out, but his throat grows tighter as he shuts his eyes tightly, fingers splayed through his hair as he tries to catch his breath once more. Carter was useless in every way, just like the people who used to shove him told him. An eleven meant nothing if he couldn't hold down his stomach right after shoving trainers away from his body. He's not dead yet. He's not six feet under. He's still got life in him to push forward and protect them for as long as he can. A deep breath and his eyes catch the sight of the Ace of Spades. Indigo lips pursed together as he stares at the card with a long glare like it could vanish from his grip at any moment. Every heart comes with a spade, eyes glance over the Ace of Hearts and then to Lars before going back to his deck. Every diamond has a club, eyes glance at the Ace of Diamonds and then to Auto before he pulls the Ace of Clubs and looks to Max and back to the four aces in his hands.

With every Joker comes death, but the sky doesn't light up this night. Death's grip doesn't get anyone for the first day and he doesn't know whether to feel relief or disappointment. Shuffling the aces back into the deck, he puts them away into the box with Mitchell's sloppy handwriting in marker on the side. Fingers traces the letters that spell for Carter on the box. Putting the cards above where his heart is, he pats them before leaning back further and staring up at the trees reaching for the heavens.

Just like those trees, Carter reaches up towards the sky like he could reach for the leaves of the tall trees and pass them to the skies above and touch the stars. Dance among the stars with galaxies swirling about him and Mitchell could find him once more, questioning why he's never learned how to dance. He'd tell him that it's because his brother never taught him and they'd both laugh. Raisa Mortuus would visit in spirit, speaking to them and spreading information to the rest of the Laws, but death wasn't meant for him yet. Carter Laws was born to live and lives to die, whether it be throwing himself on the metaphorical spear to save the Thefts or Maxwell or just give up in the end for someone who deserves it, he can't help, but feel the tiny wings of hope spread on his back with the reminder of home in his chest and the words of Aranica Petros in his ears.

...you won't be alone.

As his eyes glance to the forms of Auto, Lars, and Max respectively, he can't help but feel the swell of his heart and the memories of how Mitchell's allies mourned him. Would they do that for him? A deep breath as he takes in their features with every second, knowing he's not as close to them right now, but he needed this moment to catch his breath. The Thefts with their bright blue eyes filled with the wonder of young children and yet the deadly quick hands that even he couldn't comprehend at times. Maxwell Temple, who is the prettiest boy he's ever met, despite the bruising and cuts upon his skin. Dark eyes that hold some pain that he's seen time and time again in twelve. A small smile fills his lips as he reapplies his indigo lipstick, putting it back in his collar afterwards before turning around and watching the blackness of the rest of the forest.

Unlike the night before, morning comes with the shrill of the fucking honking bird that belonged to Auto. A groan from his lips as he pushes himself off the tree, stretching his muscles and letting the bones crack up his back. Not the most comfortable sleep he's had, but definitely not the worst. No one wants to remember the time that Jack and him sneaked into the mines and came out the next morning covered in black. A chuckle falls from his lips as he remembers that day, despite his dislike for Jack right now. The annoyance of the bird is met with Auto's threat upon her tongue.

"Listen, Con - you better stop with that damn honking or you will be breakfast."

Humming his agreeance to her words before he feels his indigo lipstick still in place and a bit dry, but not that annoying yet that he's gonna smear it. A chuckle falls from his lips before he lets himself speak gently to Auto about her new pet, Con. The honking birds were obnoxious, just look at the failure he had committed the day before at catching one. A pushed away thought as he makes his annoyance of the early wake up known to the Theft.

"Jesus Christ, that bird better not do that every fucking morning or it will lose it's head."

Letting his words fill with sarcasm and humor among them, he watches everyone else wake up for the day before they begin to move into a land of blackness and the hot winds that goes through his body taking the chill of the foggy redwoods out of his mind. How strange the arena was with weather that changes the moment you walk somewhere else. Lars says words that others would think about in the land of blackness with heat surging around them and the ugly sign farther away from them and all Carter can do is shrug. Kinkade was an interesting man, but there were two gamemakers and his guess the other one was a lot less flashy and more practical than Glamour. Snow probably thought it would even out Glamour's in over his headness. A chuckle before he speaks out loud about the area.

"Useful is more of the descriptor I would use for this place, Lars. The black stuff is tar, easy to put on weapons and easier to light on fire. Could be very deadly and quite pretty too."

Eyes glance to Max as the sound of irregular steps comes to his ears. Glancing back to the creature that's too big to be a wolf and too much like a caramel color to be a bear that's charging him. Feet and instinct take over as he sidesteps away from the sharp clawed hand that comes at him, but only for him to find the teeth of some other wolf-like creature getting him lightly. Pain flourishes to life, but he doesn't scream and instead grunts as he swings his axe forward in a protective stance. Two wolves end up taking chunks from Lars and he can feel the panic in his chest set in as he stares at the wolves. Lars speaks about Auto and him going on the offensive and he can feel his heart begin to beat in his chest. The pack of cards slapping gently against his heart as he lets the panic fall. Feet move forward as he lets out his own words to Max and the Thefts.

"Fuck you, mutts. No one gets to hurt them."

Gritting his teeth, Carter moves effortlessly forward as he brings the axe to his lips giving the blade an indigo kiss on the side. No one got in the way of his family. Laws looked out for one another, blood or not, and they were now apart of the Laws family. They were now his friends. They wouldn't let him die alone and he wont let them die here. Fury in his veins as he watches Auto and Lars strike one of the wolves. Auto doing more damage to protect her twin brother and all he can do is feel the strain in his chest as the cards on his heart reminds him of how he couldn't do that for Mitchell. Words fall from his lips to Max before he lunges forward with his battleaxe.

"C'mon, Max"

If he couldn't do this for Mitchell, he would do it for Lars, Auto, and Max.

They were his family.

His friends.

His aces.

And he wouldn't let mutts get in the way of his family, not ever again.

<><><><><><><>

(Carter Laws attacks Gina ~ Battleaxe)
b0q4pItHtaxe
(Shallow cut on left thigh - 3.5)

axe

[lance]

<><><><><><><>

I arise with the fall, a system set in motion since well before I'd gotten my skin torn open by a group of ferocious warrior women, well before I'd spent my afternoon having my wounds tended to by Carter of all people - and truth be told, I never expected him to be the sympathetic type - and making a contest of trying to catch one of those honking fucks that everyone always coos over. Auto had won that, spoiling an otherwise uplifting reunion.

But nah, I wasn't upset, not really, even if it felt good to just be a kid again when my death is right around the corner. Yesterday was probably the last chance at innocence I'd ever get, complete with trying to catch birds and even stumbling across another pair of tributes with not murder in our eyes but peace. One had gotten fucked up nearly as much as I had, and for that alone I had to sympathize.

But that was then, and this was now. After Larceny on the watch list, I wake to him still conscious, his own duty not shirked. Which, for a fourteen year old, was pretty impressive.

For a little while, we sit in comfortable coexistence, the night strangely peaceful amongst the trees. The forest itself was almost as eerie as it was beautiful - I was no expert on wildlife, living in a heavily urbanized district for my entire life and all - but I was reasonably certain that even at night, such places were supposed to be full of life and noise.

Here, the only living things were the trees, the four of us, and the small flock of lost honkers.

"Are you afraid at all?" Larceny's voice is soft but sudden, the question likewise unexpected. When I turn to face him, there is no fear in the young boy's face, only a steadfast resoluteness.

"I think I could be. But I won't be," he continues after a moment, eyes drifting to Auto's sleeping form. "I can't afford the luxury of fear."

This kid is like me in the relationship, I realize with a start. The serious, slightly more mature twin taking charge and willing to do anything for their sibling.

Perhaps that had been why I had found myself drawn to the unlikely pair from Three, the two who reminded me so much of myself and Jordan. The two that very well could have been us, in another time and another location.

"We're on the same page then, in that case," I respond after a moment's contemplation."Fear is as much a weapon as any blade in this shithole, and the second you let yourself get ruled by it you might as well already have begun your descent into hell."

Our silence resumes, and it is not long before Larceny takes my place in slumber, leaving me alone with the undead forest and my thoughts.

It's a wonder that I'm still sane when the sun peaks over the horizon.

---

I open my eyes, and the landscape has descended into bloody chaos.

Sounds are muted, as Larceny and Auto team up against one of the four muttations sent to no doubt prove our worth in battle. The former has blood flowing freely from a hole in his head, and yet he still stands strong, keeping the beast's attention focused on him as his sister lands a direct hit on its back with a giant mace.

Carter likewise has engaged with the second beast, axe and teeth flashing against the sun as neither leaves a significant mark on the other. Beast number three is larger than the two engaged in battle, so I immediately count that one out in terms of engagement - I didn't come here to gain the title of giant mutt slayer, after all - and the fourth, strangely enough, seems to be lagging behind, immediately placing its threat level at the bottom.

Divide and conquer is usually a good tactic, but in this case the sooner we can cut down the numbers of the enemy, the better.

But there's no need for me to lumber after Carter, to place myself in harm's way so soon after I'd nearly been chopped to pieces the day before. My gaze drops briefly to the spear in my left hand and the mini axe in my right, two of many weapons I'd claimed the day before.

So many decisions, and my gaze returns to the beast engaged with Carter, and I notice a shiny, if small, cut on its left leg. So little time.

A decision is made, and I heave. To be fair, I have always been left handed.

<><><><><><><>

maxwell attacks gina; javelin

jLLo9tAYpjavelin

15160 -- SPEAR IN CALF -- 8.5 damage

javelin

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

HARLAN ELLISON

His first attempt came up empty, which was not so unusual for Harlan. Sloths, you know? And he was proud of his heritage. But right now, he could feel the slowness of his movements warring with the delectable smells of the tributes. He flexed his claws, eyed another piece of prey, and gave it a second try.

[Harlan attacks Auto Grand Theft; spiked blunt]

7wr4mvT_spiked blunt

[BLOCK -- 0.0 damage]

RANGER

She'd been quick to get the first attack in, but now there were other contenders. She gave a little yip to the big lumbering thing. He didn't so much as look her way. Now, Ranger bears her teeth, snapping as much as the Sloth as the tributes.

[Ranger attacks Auto Grand Theft; knife (teeth)]

knife

[Deep Gash on Right Bicep -- 8.0 damage]

GINA

While the other two beasties worked out their pecking order, Gina had her paws full. The tributes were clearly determined to separate her and her littermate. She would not have it! She gave a little howl of pain as her blood spilled onto the arena.

[Gina attacks Maxwell Temple; knife (teeth)]

knife

[Block -- 0.0 damage]

LYLA

Lyla echoed Gina's pained howl with one of her own. This meal, was it worth it? Should they turn back for the rest of their pack? As Gina positioned herself for another attack, Lyla nudged her once, as though to say - are you sure? But Gina was always sure when it came to a possible meal.

[Lyla attacks Maxwell Temple; knife (teeth)]

knife

[Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage]

spiked blunt·knife·knife·knife

[Arrows]

<><><><><><><>

Thunder tears through skies heavy with the weight of water as a song of swiftly coming shock. It is the war drums hammering heavy beneath the gavels of the Gods before their judgement arcs in anarchy across the abyss of the heavens. It is the prelude to a symphony of intense illumination, blinding to all those of its audience. In this moment on ground black as the heart of humanity, I am the thunder to my sister's strike of lightning. In harmonic convergence we unleash the superior synchronization that has been forever embedded within our genetic design. Two bodies, one heart and one mind. Twins of terror. 

Hell hisses as we stand unwavering before its horde. The heart of Hades inhabits the protectors of his repulsive dominion. They snarl and snap hungry for the blood of freshly offered sacrifices. Their teeth tread against our skin and their claws contort our appearances, but we do not back away. Before the behemoth of Goliath David did not falter. With a stone in hand he slayed the enemy before the eyes of the watching world and the God of his existence. Our battle here on this broken earth spewing taint from its decaying depths is no different. We stand on trial before the Gods of this realm and we do not relent in our resistance to their challenges. Not even Hell on earth can stop our efforts in attempting to secure survival. 

Red runs in rivulets down the tilt of my chin and across the curves of my cheeks. Metal mingles on my lips as the iron of my blood glosses their exterior in a coat of scarlet. Pain pulsates from what was once my ear in a rhythm rhyming with the quickened hump of my heart. Overhead I can hear the voice of Father drowned in disappointment for such a sorry sight. His tone is twisted in knots of anger and sewn together by words of hatred. At home his hands must be wrathfully wreathing wishing for a neck to constrict around like a snake thirsting for a kill. But here his hands cannot reach me, cannot control me, and for that I smile. Although my pain is persistent, my freedom is exhilarating. 

My moment elapsed in euphoria ends ignited in remembrance of the battle before me. Wolves drive against their hunters and blood blossoms over the skin of Auto. Like me, her body now lies scarred by the hunger of the active Gods of this existence. Does Vepar see similarities in us too painful to want to allow us to last long? Or is he challenging us, seeing if like true split single soul our strength in combination is strong enough to overcome opposition? Or maybe this is just the Hunger Games, and one rule is absolute above all: there must be death. Whichever reasoning remains the root of this battle, I don't care. It's a test, an obstacle to overcome towards taking the crown. Thus, I will do what it takes to succeed. 

Amid our own waging war, a canon cries out as the slamming gavel of our Gods in decree of a stolen soul. My body is still in a moment of recognition that somewhere inside this arena another now boards a boat to cross the River Styx. Perhaps it is Bette, bested by her own intellect. Maybe its Lex, falling before Carter and I ever have our chance to keep true to our promise. Whoever it is, they have now wilted from the world of the living and taken up roots in the realm of the dead. If I truly felt anything other than the numbness I acquired as armor in order to survive, I'm sure it would be pity. But of course, I only notice nothingness. Just as I can't afford to be afraid, I can't afford emotions for an unknown fallen face. The present job must always take precedence. 

"I'll take the right, you take the left!"

My words are short but straight forward. My steps sprint towards the right flank of the thief of my ear and one of the servants of Glamour and Vepar. Auto branches off in counter to my actions and in this moment I take a second to survey the others. Their strategy seems similar and it appears their opponent is in similar shape as well. We each have opportunities, and as a thief I know better than to waste an opportunity. My fingers furl around my sword feeling it as an extension of my desires. I wield it as the physical form of my determination to survive, my drive to achieve victory.

<><><><><><><>

Larceny attacks Lyla // LongSword
nJDuW0Vnxsword
{Miss -- 0 Damage}

Accuracy Re-Roll
sword
{Deep Gash on Right Thigh -- 8.0 Damage + 1 from Blades}

sword·sword

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

<><><><><><><>

The demonically crafted beasts intrude upon us with vicious intent, while the likes of us bite back just as brutally as though born to do so. A mashup of misfits union together in a manner never expected by even myself, bringing half towards their concluding demise within seconds. Revenge licks upon them unforgivingly, dividing them between us to ensure their ending. A smirk unravels across my features at the sight of Maxy and Carter battling against one, as though they were a set of twins themselves. The edges of my lips expanding even more at the unexpected pristine brew of the four of us together. Questions formed before on the reason behind our agreed teaming, and now all answers are met.

Another obnoxious honk barrels from my new companion, in the worst of times, while he flutters to the top of my head - my attention unaware to his warning. The smell consumes my senses before realization strikes on where my step placement has landed me. “Fucken shit-“ Foul language curls across my tongue with a rather literal meaning. It feels as though a layer of skin within my nostrils burn off from the overbearing smell of the feces that now coat my shoes. And to the add a perfection cherry on top of this crappy ice-cream sundae, the sadistic mutations refuse to escape from our raft of revenge.

Avoidance manages to prevent the odd Creature’s attempt at a chunk of me, it’s features and existence foreign and bewildering to me - while it’s fingers’ fangs are denied piercing me. Another divine wolf does manage to glide it’s teeth across my exterior, carving deep towards my core as though desperate for a mere bite of nutrients. Had these animals been starved by the Capitol’s strive to enhance their precious game? It’d be cruel, though in a moment such as now it doesn’t gain an ounce of sympathy from myself.

Time doesn’t halt with the consequences of the Capitol implanting upon my own skin, nor should it. A canon booms in the distance with a threat of what could be, and my mind’s unable to wander in thought of who’s life was just claimed. Larceny’s instructions boom through the horrid raft of smell that’s overtaking me, and automatically I comply to the plan he’s setting forth. Attention returns to the first monster our eyes set upon to demolish, prepared to destroy them one at a time.

“Ya’ll better go find your next meal elsewhere, or we’ll be frying you guys up for lunch!” Warns in a promise that surely we’ll keep. A festering wound lingers in infancy upon one of our target’s legs due to Larceny’s return rage. Much and more mingle upon another of a similar texture due to Maxy and Carter. My own weapon retrieves to a preparation stance in starvation for further blood, and strikes in determination to protect this unite of warriors.

<><><><><><><>

{Auto attacks Lyla ~ Spiked Blunt}
kRfFJmLiSspiked blunt
{14133 -- BROKEN LEFT ARM -- 6.5 damage
(Spiked Blunt)}

spiked blunt

[Tom]

<><><><><><><>

Mitchell would be disappointed.

Not for the fact that Carter's followed his brother's footsteps into the arena, but for the fact he couldn't do any better than a shallow cut on the wolf. A weaker hit than the one done to him by Lex that still stings if he moves his leg the right way. No worry in his skin for it, but his worry is bleeding onto the twins and Maxwell Temple. Family doesn't run from one another. Family sticks up for the other, unlike Jack Corradi-Laws' cowardice. Legacies aren't born in a day as Carter would know. Indigo lips pursed together as he can feel the weight of cards on his heart, a legacy of his own starting with Mitchell and going on with Gabriel and now Carter's got his own turn at the Laws legacy. How many Laws does it take for there to be no more tears?

The answer wasn't clear, but he wasn't going to let it become a statistic in the capitol's book next to the name Laws from Twelve. An eleven was attached to his name, but all he felt like was a four at best. A four because card tricks can only get someone so far before the games takes over and human instinct kicks in. Then a deal of stubbornness is all they would have left. Lips pursed as he watches Max glide next to him with pale skin glowing in his vision. The warm wind moving rips of the slacks around. Only one thing could be said about the boy, despite the fact that love doesn't exist when death could come any day. Hormones on a high from the thought of death. He still gives in to the thought of just how much he wished to see more of Maxwell Temple's beauty. Teeth bite softly into his cheek as he focuses back on the creatures that now strike.

Distracted by Maxwell Temple hadn't been a good idea. The coyote mutt strikes hard into Auto while the wolf on it's last leg strikes Max and his teeth bite a little harder at his cheek as he feels his feet slow and his breathing come heavy. Chest rising and falling with the heat of the tar that lingers in the wind. The ugly sign in the distance looking nothing more than an awful light in the day. Auto and Lars seem to have more guts than he anticipated as they just strikes again and again, until the first wolf collapses to the ground dead. A honking heard from Auto's dumb bird as he gives a small smile for just a second before he buries it down into his indigo kissed axe that reflects his face back at him.

Sweaty hair on his forehead from the heat of the warm wind striking his skin like a comfort and a discomfort. Warm like the dry days of Twelve when the smell of coal rises to the air hiding the stench of the starving dead children that lingers in Twelve. Lars and Auto are unique in the way they move. So young compared to Maxwell, but they still carry so much more in their skin and from the looks he catches in small moments, there's more to them than just thieves. All he could feel was wanting to know more about them all. More about the twins and their bond together. More about Maxwell and his family from Nine. More about the beauty of Maxwell Temple. More about those serious stares from Lars and that monotone voice that he gets from the guy.

Feet take over first as he thinks of everything he wants to learn. Mind pushing thoughts and questions of his allies in his head giving him more determination to fight. Fight like this was his last because death still lingers in the arena and under his nose. Raisa Mortuus had told him Mitchell couldn't wait to see him and he was going to make his brother wait. Mitchell could wait until the world ends for him. Carter knew that much. Mitchell had always been way more patient than he had, but Carter had the fire in his chest. The fire of sticking to himself and doing what he wanted to do. And right now, he wanted to learn about his friends. Learn the ticks that means their nervous, learn the ways to get them to smile, learn the way to see the true person behind their eyes. All he can do is pull back his axe for a wide swing. Words upon his lips as he strikes.

"Just die. You'll see your friend in another life, puppy."

A small smirk as he knows it's the truth. The wolves will hunt in another life.

After all, he was born to live and they were born to die.

<><><><><><><>

(Carter Laws attacks Gina // Battleaxe)
8eJCB21aeaxe
(shallow cut right calf 3.5)

axe

[lance]

<><><><><><><>

My aim is true - the spear lodges itself in the muttation's leg, and holds firm. That can't be pleasant to live through.

I watch as combat unfolds, observe as I remove my jacket - and honestly, who decided that clothing me in an entire suit in this weather was a good idea? - leaving nothing but my slack-shorts and the uncomfortable shoes that came with the outfit on my body. Oh well, clothes are overrated, and I'm sure someone at home would enjoy the show.

Hah, who am I kidding. Unless skinny white boys are in right now, I suppose, I can cross that attempt at sponsorship off the list. Not that it really made it there in the first place.

But I digress. The twins, despite their lack of years, work together as a unit, engaging in a dance that is clearly one born of habit and repetition as they dance around their chosen target. Larceny slashes it across one thigh, while Auto shrugs off a gash from the third mutt to smack her target on the opposing foreleg, causing it - and the mutt - to collapse.

One down, three to go.

Its sibling is none too pleased at this outcome, as it launches itself at me with some pipe dream of revenge clouding its senses. I'm not quite sure if pain is clouding its judgement or just plain stupidity, but it does not take much effort to avoid the creature's teeth as it tries to take a bite out of my leg.

Carter tries to take its attention off of me, and perhaps trying to capitalize on the spear in its leg he sends his axe towards it as some sort of followup. But whether the mutt is quicker on its feet than we both expected or his aim was just off remains to be seen, for the beast manages to avoid any great injury.

That leaves my fate in my own hands. The thought tugs at the corners of my mouth - after all, wasn't that the philosophy I'd deemed most necessary when it came to survival?

Well, either way, putting down a mutt with my own hands surely wouldn't hurt any chances that I might have on the outside. And worst case scenario, it would make for some neat bragging rights.

For a second, I debate grabbing another spear from my stash - for the first one did do sizable damage - before deciding that, for the moment, I was fine. So instead I shift my remaining weapon - the throwing axe - from my right hand to my left, and without a second thought I throw.

Who knows? I think, grin growing wider. Sometimes axe-idents happen, after all.

<><><><><><><>

maxwell attacks gina; throwing axe

XnvvGAWEOthrowing axe

10032 -- Miss -- 0 damage

accuracy reroll, day two

throwing axe

10037 -- Axe in Chest -- 9 damage

throwing axe·throwing axe

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

HARLAN ELLISON

Harlan realized before the others that the pack they faced worked together. They spread out, flanking the two smaller wolves, attacking their flanks. One fell, then the other. Some times death worked out that way, if you had a pack. He didn't, strictly speaking, although there were other Sloths in the area. He took in a deep breath, whuffling it out. One had died recently, too.

He gave a little snort as he charged forward.

[Harlan attacks Larceny Theft; spiked blunt]

JLk6bNYwsspiked blunt

[DEEP GASH ON RIGHT FOREARM -- 8.0 damage]

RANGER

The little wolves let out some pitiful yelps as they perished under the coordinated onslaught. Weak, foolish little things. Still, the claws this pack brandished were sharper than hers. She hesitated a moment, wondering if it was best to try again another day, before the great sloth lumbered past her in his charge.

Well, if he could manage another round, so could she.

[Ranger attacks Carter Laws; knife (teeth)]

knife

[Deep Gash on Left Thigh -- 8.0 damage]

spiked blunt·knife

[Arrows]

<><><><><><><>

Two hounds of Hell submit to eternal slumber beneath a storm of steel. Blood bakes the black of the earth a shadowy scarlet frosted over by our leeching life. A stare tethered to a stone soul watches as the demons wither from our wrath. I wonder whether this absent life of no emotion is equal to any other tribute's. Does anyone also feel entirely at ease when their blades bear into the flesh of other living beings? Do they smile too when their opposition lies in devastation? Probably not, I am a sadistic boy half of one whole. I'm probably alone in this state of existence aside from Auto. However, it's probably better that way. It makes me unafraid to steal the most sacred of possessions, life.

Pain pulses over many inches of my bleeding body, yet my eyes angle towards Auto. She seems in better shape than I am but still I know when it's time to escape. A window driven by the deaths of two enemies has opened, and as thieves not utilizing such windows can prove to be fatal. As much as my own internal instincts implore me to take flight first, I need to provide cover for Auto's own escape. I then will have to hope to join her shortly after. But I am already well aware of the flaw with this plan. Anger and refusal will plague Auto's entire entity, therefore, I must add another variable to this equation.

"You have my back and I have your's?"

I say with my eyes looking towards the most intact of us all. Carter has already proven his determination to stand beside me and now I know I need his help. If we combine our strength and our minds we can manage to keep the window open, to find a way for us all to get out of here alive. But it comes with known risk, another round of assault for the safety of our allies. It's a risk for my sister, for my other half, there is no sense of hesitation in my mind. Luckily, it seems there isn't any in his either.

As my fingers furl around the strength of my soul embedded in my sword I utilize the final variable. Maxwell stands strong and at the ready, but he can get Auto out. He's already found her once and now I'm trusting him to keep her safe and away again. Sometimes even the closest of souls must spend seconds apart.

"Maxwell, get her out of here. We're right behind you."

My eyes flash and my weight shifts. Despite the pain, despite Auto's screams of denial, I find focus. I find the meaning of this moment. I fight while she flees. I volunteered while she was reaped. I came to protect her while she came out of an unlucky draw. Now, I will do what I came here to do.

I will fight for our survival.

<><><><><><><>

Larceny attacks Ranger // LongSword
80yNOvUzJsword
{Severed Hand at Left Wrist -- 9.0 Damage + 1 Blades}

sword

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

<><><><><><><>

Consequences kiss from the likes of my weapon against the foolish Capitol creations. The briefest whimper coils across my Victim’s fangs in her journey from this unforgiving realm. The canine of a similar coat joins in the cries of her own exit out of this cruelty - brought there by the hands of our determined teams. And though the strength of our force strives to perfection, merely half of the beasts are overcome by such. An odd existence remains with a ton of blubber protecting him, and without a scratch upon him. A large wolf of far more fierceness lurks with drool practically dripping from her fangs, and again not even a single slice marks her fur. Blood of the unfortunate begins staining my weapon, while much and more will have to follow it.

Words exchange between my other half and the bravery of the District twelve male, in manners bewildering to myself. There’s surely a hope that all of our backs are covered by each of us, while it’s confusing why Larceny would question such during a crucial moment as of now. But the next words to curl from his lips slap an understanding across my cheek in the most brutal form. Automatically my vision snaps to Max in warning of not following my Twin’s demands. There is no abandoning a mission. Already two days ago I had prematurely left the opening battle, punished by the return of my Brother in poor form, and for the eternity of my existence I shall never forgive myself for that. It’s not permitted for such to ever happen again. But a choice is stolen from my grasp.

The persistent arms of Max enfold around me against my rejection to the plan. Immediately screams burst from my throat without a single care over who might hear. Instincts thrash my body against the hold, pleading to be released - or draw the attention of the mutations over to us in revenge against their heartless plan. But Max remains his clench of me as though I weighed nothing, and the beasts are too preoccupied by the others to even notice us.

“Let go of me fucker! You little piece of shit! You have no right!” Profanity continues to sing from my vocals in desperation to return and change Max’s mind. “We cant leave them! We cant! Let me go now!” But no level of of cursing convinces him. Con begins honking in response to my own yelling, while he achieves nothing more in protest. The damn bird doesn’t even peck at my captive holder. And without choice Larceny and Carter are taken my line of sight, and ability to protect them.

<><><><><><><>

{Auto Grand Theft Flees}

[Tom]

<><><><><><><>

Barely a cut into the wolf's flesh as Carter watches it bleed. The indigo is now slightly covered in blood, but it's beautiful in a violent and bloody way. Not as pretty as Max, but he doesn't dare say that. Finger tips tighten on the handle as he hears the animals approaching. Maxwell cuts into the wolf, tearing it's life from it. Death was there taking those animals to the next life. They could hunt in the next world together and love one another. A deep breath as his chest heaves at the exhaustion in his bones, despite only cutting them barely. Words can't come together to explain the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Glamour Kinkade be damned, he doesn't agree with this care of animals. Animals that were supposed to be like the birds chirping in District Twelve or the dogs wagging their tails happily. In the arena, Tributes and Mutts were made for the slaughter. Death was coming for them all.

Pain bursts into his leg like Lex had done to him. Blood now coming from the wound and staining his slack as he flinches barely. The cards in his pocket hitting his chest as he yanks himself backwards from the animals. The doglike creature looks satisfied with the gash in his leg, but he can only feel the fear in his throat. No, he was supposed to be brave. He was supposed to be like Mitchell and face hell straight on with no feelings. He was supposed to tear down mutts, but right now all he could do was feel the pain spread. All he can do is gasp for a breath. A gasp that's filled with a little bit of pain and frustration. Words hit his ears.

"You have my back and I have your's?"

Lars has his back. Eyes glance to his friend, the thoughts in his mind threatening to peer out and then he looks to Max and Auto, both of which are injured just as much or more than him. Something in his chest gives as the weight of the cards comes down on his chest. The crushing feeling of worry that slides into his throat making it harder to breathe. Panics weren't allowed for now. Counting down his cards in his mind, he takes a deep breath of air. A long sigh coming from his throat as he can see Lars' idea pop up in his own mind. Words sent out to Maxwell like he trusted the guy to protect his sister. Carter would trust him with his sister. God, Carter would trust him with himself and that was even more than with his sisters.

"Maxwell, get her out of here. We're right behind you."

The sword comes down hard into the beast as Lars cuts deep into the creature. A holding of his breath comes as he notices the beast moving still and his heart tightens at the sight. Eyes glance to Auto and Max as he thinks this could be his own chance to tell Max. If he were to fall here, this would be it. They will leave Lars and Carter behind to deal with the mutts or escape. The thief and the boy with an eleven to deal with the creatures in front of them. He doesn't look, but he lets his voice speak out as he holds his axe tighter.

"Get out of here, Max and Auto. We'll be there soon."

Silence as he takes a deep breath and looks back giving them both a smile that isn't fake.

"Don't worry, I promise to bring him back, Auto. And Max, don't worry, I'll make sure to tell you how pretty you are when we get back."

A wink as he focuses back on the creatures letting his heart pulse faster and his axe pointed at the mutts. Feet take him and he's terrified, but he needs to make through with his promise. Laws don't break promises. Mitchell didn't and Carter would follow his legacy. Everyone deserved to live. Everyone deserved to create their legacy. Everyone deserved to have family and he wasn't going to let some creatures tear Lars away from Auto. Like Jenoah, he would pray to a false god and swing with everything he has. The charge was faster than he expected as he swung the axe forward.

He won't let the mutts get past.

He won't let them get to the prettiest boy he knows and the person Lars needed the most.

Not today and not ever.

This was his promise.

Carter Laws was born to protect them.

And he wouldn't let these mutts get past him.

<><><><><><><>

(Carter Laws attacks Ranger // Battleaxe)
eJ|QuJ3TBaxe
(Deep Gash on Chest 9.5)

axe

[lance]

filler because too much shit is going on today and i've already held this up long enough

maxwell flees dragging auto with him