we set fire to our insides for fun | ambrosia day 3 oneshots

[gamemaker kelsier]

a m b r o s i a .

"We all disappear
There's nothing to fear,
now my love
How does it feel?"

His face hurts, but then again, so do his knees and hands. His skin burns and crawls like its own thing. It creeps over him through the night, a tingling feeling in his fingers and a heat that he did not summon up. When the sun breaks over the land, his fever does not. Ambrosia squirms in the dirt, sweat pooling at the back of his neck. He reaches upwards and pinches the sun between two fingers dyed a muddy brown with his own blood.

His body burns.

"fucking moles," he mumbles and slings an arm over his eyes to guard them from the sun. He's lucky he's been in a gang for the past couple years or maybe he wouldn't have been able to perform first aid on himself so well. The little creatures from yesterday had done a number on him but at least he has a skinned one to show for it.

Ambrosia sits upright with a soft moan, various cuts and bruises making movement more difficult. Not even the gift of armour made it through yesterday. Things had been going alright until he'd fallen into an actual hole and the angry creature that was still alive had followed him down, scrambling all over him and scratching the armour to bits. It's claws hadn't been natural. When ambrosia had skinned the one he'd taken with him last night, even touching the claws of it had cut him easily. For all of its appearances, the arena was far from natural.

The sun rises swift and Ambrosia doesn't want to remain out in the open like this. He bundles all of his stuff together, tying the dead corpse of the mutt from yesterday to his bag before setting off on an easy lope across the cracked ground. The lake bed makes him uneasy and after a ten minute interval of screaming abuse at a hole that almost trips him up, ("You dirty little fuck, I bet you let anyone inside of you.") Ambrosia is nearly back at the place he started.

The giant rock shaped like a thumb rises up before him, the prodigial son has returned.

[gamemaker kelsier]

a m b r o s i a .

"We all disappear
There's nothing to fear,
now my love
How does it feel?"

Ambrosia comes to, head aching and skin tingling anew as if a thousand tiny fireworks have just exploded off if his skin. His vision swims and he shudders, vomit pooling at the back of his throat. He's never felt like this before in his life. Energy courses through his system, he is a livewire, bucking and screaming from the joy of it. Sparks fly from his fingertips and for a few brief moments, everything seems bright for once.

Then it all goes away again and Ambrosia is left with searing pain and the smell of cooked flesh and hair and all those other things in between. The worst part is, he knows that the smell is coming from him. A giggle erupts from his lips and grows into a full blown laugh and Ambrosia stands, a whole new vein of life coursing through his system. He feels alive, more than he ever has and it's because he's almost dead. Euphoria blooms, an ever cagey flower, hard to cultivate but always worth the effort. "Ok, Cickle, I fucking get it," he slurrs up at the sky, "I'll stop fucking around, yeah?"

He can always tell when his sister is mad at him. she used to pull him around by the ear as if he wasn't a 2.5 inches taller than her. So he sits up. His body burns and aches but Ambrosia would still move mountains for his sister, even though she's been dead for a year. For himself? That's questionable.

It takes him a long moment to notice the fire blazing directly in front of him. Probably too long for the viewers at home as the blaze is magnificant and he is facing the wrong way. After a long moment, he finally realizes that the heat he feels on his back is not infact from the electricity coursing through his veins but from a dwindling flame behind him.

What he sees doesn't make sense, but then again, neither does walking away from being struck by lightening. Seven axes sit wedged in the dirt in a disarray, like cards tossed lazily onto a table. The fire around dies down slowly with a soft crackle but the axes stay burning brightly. Ambrosia stares at them for a hot minute, a low whistle erupting from between his lips. "Shit," he says, "Anyone got a cigarette?" Of course no one does. He's alone.

He's getting kind of tired of that and takes a second to think about little Francisco, probably off dancing somewhere in some flowers like the little bloom he is. He stares at the flming axes, considering them. He flexes his fingers, they feel hot, estatic, like little livewires. Everything inside of him tells him not to touch the burning, hot, flaming axes but his entire being wants to and Ambrosia is an idiot.

He reaches out and grasps an axe handle, bracing for a searing pain that never comes. The axe actually feels cool in his hand. He walks over to his bag, forgotten on the grand and holds the dead mutt over the flame. It begins to cook there.

"Lit."

[ambrosia uses n/t on self for -5]
[ambrosia drinks his clean water]
[ambrosia fills his water]
[ambrosia cooks and eats the mutts ayyo]
[hit or miss, i guess they never miss huh]