I need a miracle {fbrd vs t3g; day 3}

[Sleepy Fluttershy]

Carmen Stirling.
I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative.

Your blade runs through the boy's flesh again but your eyes are locked on your other opponent. "Don't underestimate me"? Maybe you overestimated her and all of this wouldn't have happened... No, it would. But it would happen to Fiona instead. You wouldn't be able to bear it. Another wound makes it impossible to stop all the bleeding but you keep holding the gash on your stomach. If at least some blood stays inside, you'll have fuel to function. Your hand is growing weaker, Wasp is becoming too heavy for you to hold...

The world is becoming blurry and heavy but you don't fall. It's cold but you don't have time to gather firewood and get warmer. You see a small jar under your feet and wonder what's inside... What if it is milk? You haven't had a glass of milk since your mother died. You are hurting too much to pick it up. Fiona's district partner makes another attack and you regret you couldn't take on all three of them. At least she is not being slaughtered by these mad children and that feels satisfying...

"Fi, you all right?"

It is a mess. Kind of like when you fought other children a piece of chalk in the street and your parents started yelling at each other instead of stopping you. You hope she is going to leave. They will let her, they should. Animals crave more blood after they taste it, people run from it. There will be blood, that much is clear already, and when what happens happens, everyone will be shocked.

"Fi, you must run right now, promise me you'll run, never mind me!"

You are still standing, so is the boy in front of you, but you both don't have much time left. The last thing you want to do is to take him down and you hesitate. A pained smile crosses your face and you whisper as distinctly as you can to make sure she hears you:

"If I underestimated you, would I bother with your brother, silly?"

You know the games will be over for you soon and if you have to go, you don't want to go with a lie, even to a girl from three who craves your blood. She has a good reason to hate you.

---

Memories flash through your mind, and only one of them lingers there for a few seconds:
Two girls in the street and a lame bird running from a cat.
"Why didn't she hide, Cathy?"
Flapping its damaged wing, the bird rushed forward and suddenly flew away.
"Why was she pretending?"
"Her babies are in a tree over there, Carmy. I saw them yesterday. She was leading the cat away, birds do that often."

---

Suddenly there is another quick bite of pain and Earth flies from under your leg. You glance down, trying to figure out whatever happened and see your leg in a pool of blood.

People give more to invalids...

That thought brings back the giggles that mix with tears of pain. Why did you even think that when you'll never be begging again, Cathy will have to do it alone. It's a shame. You'd bring so much more money if you sang without a leg... Though you wouldn't need to sing - there's a rumor that victors get money although you never cared about it and you still don't. You're just trying to suppress a scream that's building up inside your head.

It's hard to stand, your breathing becomes more uneven, and your body swings back, like under the influence of alcohol. Your left hand grabs Fiona's sleeve and you swing your weapon blindly.

Why?

You don't understand anymore.

Carmen attacks Larceny with spiked blunt

wqTjAgiP7spiked bluntspiked blunt

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

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The means of my weapon finally delivers the power of my words of weaving sarcasm, the dark brew of my threats, and the rekindling spark of my potential. Guilt doesn’t widen my irises either when my axe’s blade carves brutally into my Enemy’s chest, and for a split second I fear that I’m finally becoming the monster that created Larceny and I. But pleads aren’t fluttering past my Opponent’s lips, as they had from Larceny and I’s years back before we fully comprehended that solely made things worse. Innocence doesn’t rumble her verdict, as it did back then when Larceny and I weren’t old enough to know better. Guilt coats her unmistakably, and I will be the one to conduct her sentencing.

A harsh rattle echoes down the chambers of the cave system, and solely a brief glance is required to see yet another armor piece of the enemy’s crumbling to the hell we’re now all sharing. The spray of gushing blood seeping from their meat bags would have been more of a pleasant sight. The scene of one of them losing that flicker of light within their eyes would have been a picture to behold. One of their chests being impaired to the kiss of their heart would have been preferred. But another one of their means of protection being stolen from their tacks of guard will suffice.

Reassurance doesn’t gaze back to my other half, knowing that without visual confirmation we feel all that the other does - and Larceny feels next the nothing. Numbness was implanted into him by Father’s brutal raft. Pain would never flash against his features from the impalement of Father’s hand, even when brought mere inches towards the face of death. It wouldn’t be until later, when isolation granted us a solitude of a haven of just us, when sorrow would fight against my stern expression, would he share the emotions forbidden for a Theft - and perhaps that was solely due to being unable to reject my own overbearing agony. But still he was the strong one. He was the one that kept us surviving against all odds.

Words breach from the brim of Larceny’s core, in a manner that leaves me uncertain if heard externally or from the realm of our shared thoughts. He assures that forever he’ll be with me, leaving confusion to rumble through my veins. Panic and confidence weave together in the stream of my pulse, unsure of the reason for his promise. A ruffle shakes my head in denial of the anxiety, determined to be overtaken by the certain immortality of our combined existence. One enemy is close to being welcomed by death. One step closer to the end we’ll share together. One more day our lungs will inflate and deflate in unison. One day soon we’ll discover a way to escape from this hellhole together.

Confusion lingers from the Opponent’s vocals next, rhetorically questioning why she’d underestimate me and seek for my Brother’s blood. Bewilderment furrows my brows in a brief attempt to absorb her statement, though such is permitted for long before the true goal is set forth again. Slaughter and survive. Slaughter and survive. Slaughter and survive.

That very Opponent’s leg is nearly hacked off by my Brother’s thirst for revenge, leaving the worry to exit from me entirely. A sighing breath piercing past my tongue with satisfying relief. But such ease is never permitted for long. Automatically the Enemy retaliates, leaving my weapon to falter from my fingertips before my eyes even register the scenario. In unison my axe collapses to the ground when my Brother does. The entirety of my demeanor if left unmistakably numb, while internally I’m screaming to the edges of the Panem, to the extent of slicing apart my throat, to reach the unforgiving Ripred above.

My fingers twitch with refusal to the situation. My core feels as though to be brutally ripping in half, as though Larceny was taking my existence along with his’. My instincts are to stumble to his side, to assure him that all will be okay, and to make sure it will all be okay.

But I don’t do that. Instead those very fingers of mine, twitching just a second before, are wrapping around the Murderer’s throat - and I’m not sure how I even got there. With the realization slamming into me however, I don’t budge from fulfilling the needs of my unconscious actions. Those fingers of my flex around her neck with such desperation a whiteness begins paling them, and they feel like they may break under my fierce determination, as I strive to squeeze the life from her - to provide her with the consequences she damn well deserves. No one’s been capable of separating us in the past, she sure as hell shouldn’t have been able to.

Memories flutter before my vision as if our unison life was flashing before our eyes together. The sole month that Father permitted us to be normal and go to preschool at the age of four, purely with vicious intent. The first time Larceny and I were convinced that there was no escaping from a crime, and the Peacekeepers would sentence us to our end. The last opportunity we had to make a name for ourselves. It all comes barreling back with a brutal flood of emotions, as if we were both meeting our end.

The front collars of our shirts were balled between each of our Father’s fists. The back of my shirt pierced into the back of my neck, and it felt as though it’d surely decapitate me with one final swoop. With ease he lifted us both far from the ground, hatred and disappointment spewing from his lips. “You can’t even steal fucken candy from babies! You’ll never go to school again you damn failures!” Specks of his spit would land upon our faces from his obtrusive anger, before he threw our four year old existences to the floor below - as if trying to return us to the hell that we came from.

Every being of my body rattled within our suddenly discovered hideaway, within the warehouse only explored once before. At the age of eight we had high expectations for ourselves, knowing if we did so we’d surely impress Father every time. But more then one scout through a mission’s location should have been made. Lesson was learned. Countless of Peacekeepers roamed the warehouse blaring with alarms, as if it was the entire Theft gang was looting the facility. But it was only the young immaculate twins, who grew more convinced by every second that they’d be caught. Fear nauseated me with the rumbling thoughts of what would happen if we were. While the entire time Larceny remained confidently strong, convinced we’d make it out without a mark on our record.

Six more years passed by my thoughts like a scratchy projector. Just weeks ago replays within the memories. Agonizing horror ruptured me from the two words ‘I Volunteer’ singing from Larceny’s lungs with a terrifying tune. It felt as though I couldn’t breath as he stepped closer to the stage, without a single person rejecting him from doing so. A coldness crept upon me like death was encircling us already, while a warmth cradled me within it like it’d all be okay. The Reaper was tempting his blade towards me, but at least Larceny would be right there with me. Contracting opinions battled in my head, and I remained speechless without encouragement or protest to spew back at his decision.

Desperation seems to flash within my Victim’s eyes, the Victim to slaughtering my Brother and the punishment to derive from such. But before that clawing light can leave her irises, another force pulls me away from achieving such. “No!!!” I scream in furious response to being denied this. “Stop! She… No! She!… She deserves this! Stop!” There’s no telling if it’s the overly-trusting girl from Nine yanking me away from her ally, or Max with his continues refusal to me killing shit, or maybe even Larceny reassuring me that he’s not dying as my heart is sobbing that he is. “She deserves to DIE!” But I screech the truth anyways, loud enough for all to hear, because anyone who seeks for my Brother’s destruction does deserve such.

Blindness fumes me even further as I battle against my capture far worse then I had the day prior. Desperation powers every strike of my limbs, determined for release. Eyes remain pierced upon the unforgiving girl from Eleven, in warning that once freedom is regained her death will be the sole goal upon my lips. “I will kill you!” A threat lingers in my stare, while a promise marks upon her.

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

{Permission given from Gaby & Lance for the actions made}

{Auto flees with Max & dying Larceny}

[lance]

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

For once, my aim seems to be on point, and I briefly consider that if smacking my head on something before every fight is what it takes for me to actually hit what I aim at, then god damn I'll fucking do it.

But no amount of head-banging can cancel out a natural disadvantage - what should have been a literal piercing blow on my district partner simply glances off her stomach, and I inwardly curse out whatever sponsor decided it would be wise to gift her such an advantage and not myself - and no amount of accuracy can turn fate around.

I turn and watch, as if in slow motion, Larceny and the girl from Eleven charge at each other. Both are bleeding profusely from their wounds, these tiny gladiators not even old enough for adulthood to be on the near horizon yet already enduring more pain and suffering than some do in their entire godforsaken lifetimes.

And honestly, I'd move to stop it, but I'm a realist.

I already knew it was hopeless.

They run, they swing, they connect - Larceny strikes first, and his blow nearly takes the girl's damn leg off.

But she is a little stronger, a little more precise, and from the looks of it she didn't have the scars of two previous days' worth of survival to show for it like my doomed ally. When her weapon connects with his chest, something cracks, and Larceny Theft falls like a puppet with his strings cut.

A cannon sounds, too far off to be his, yet the point reaches home nonetheless. And for a moment, there is nothing but blank shock all around. Murder does often have that effect, I've found.

Auto breaks out of it before any of us, and I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. What she does next however does surprise me, for she decides that for this act of murder she doesn't need any sort of weapon to do the job for her.

One moment she too is charging at the girl from Eleven, axe forgotten on the grount, and the next she is on top of her, both arms wrapped around the other girl's neck.

I think back to many things all at once - the dawn of the second day, when Larceny and I shared a moment under the stars, when my spear plunged through Carter Laws' chest - and I reach a decision.

Sheathing the rest of my weapons, it is not Fiona that I reach out for but Auto, an act that predictably is met with great resistance. “No!!!” she screams, with such force that my head lights up in pinpricks of pain and I very nearly go deaf in my left ear. “She!… She deserves this!

She deserves to DIE!”

And I understand - truly, I do - because if anything had befallen my little brother back when we both had the luxury of not knowing which one of us was going to die first, I would be doing the exact same thing right now. Which is why I know I can't let her carry it out - not like that, anyways.

"I know," I grunt, as my other arm wraps itself around her brother. Goddamn, what do they feed kids back in Three? Metal? "But trust me, you don't want to do it like that. Not while your brother's still..."

Goddamn. I can't even say it.

So instead I turn to my district partner and look her dead in the eye. "You might want to help out your friend there, Fiona," I say, jerking my head towards the fallen form of the girl from Eleven. "It'd be a shame if she happened to bleed out before you could do anything."

Is there a little bit of bitterness in my tone? Perhaps - we'd entered this fight with a numerical advantage and exited it the defeated, and man, do I not love losing - but I've decided that for today at least, I will be gracious in retreat.

After all, there'd have been no way for me to protect Auto if Fiona decided to do something about it while I was out here stumbling and bleeding myself, and the last thing I need is to be utterly devoid of allies before the sun had even set on the third day.

And yeah, okay, maybe I did it because I felt guilty about it, too. I'm fucking human, okay?

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

maxwell flees, carrying an irate auto and a dying larceny

[*]

Fiona

---

I'm just making sure we keep this goign so we can do trib maint. HOme sick adn feel like crap. Will do this sometime tonight.

-FIONA FLEES WITH CARMEN-
All actions will be put into Trib Maint


Fiona rolls to catch a word
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1-4

[Sleepy Fluttershy]

Carmen Stirling.

FILLER HERE

Sorry, a bit low on inspiration and sleepy right now

But (SPOILER ALERT!!!)

Carmen tries to scream when she sees a dead body

Because yikes, she was hoping he'd kill her and not vice versa

Fiona drags Carmen away

Carmen mutters stuff like "I deserve it, let her finish"

OOC: [Carmen Stirling flees the fight with Fiona, picks up flashlight, vegan mac and cheese and a jar of tar from the RE, other actions should be in maint OH RIP NOW I REMEMBER I FORGOT TO PUT TAR IN INVENTORY, HAVE TO EDIT ASAP]