the trouble with wanting [qh vs. lc; day two]

[heather - d2 [mylee]]

The night truly begins with the thump of Bell’s finger against my shoulder, startling me out of a fitful sleep. She says nothing, but I nod, knowing that she likely hasn’t seen my gesture through the dark. The sky offers no company, and I start at the void of night for approximately thirty minutes before turning my ears to the forest around me. The ground and trees seem to move under my eye, and though I’m convinced something is on the verge of appearing, nothing does.

I count the time with sticks tracing slits in the dirt beneath me. I’m thankful to not see the gnarled branches through the dark, as their faces in the afternoon and dusk sent my body stiff. The first hour passes quickly enough, but the second drags on and I’m grateful for the approximate time I roll to my side and tap Tommy gently on the shoulder until he wakes up. Your turn, I whisper through the dark before rolling back to my other side. Despite the throbbing pain resonating through my foot, I feel heaviness creeping into my limbs and overtaking the habit I’ve made of staying awake.

*

When the first glimpses of sunlight filter in, I find myself awash with a rush of adrenaline that I originally mistake for being rested. I roll to a position to stand and do so for a brief moment in the wake of forgetting that the bones of my foot are shattered. The jarring of weight on the splinter doesn’t sit well, and it takes all of my restraint and a bitten tongue to keep from screaming loudly and without abandon. I drop back to the ground quickly and cradle the ankle, watching the way color has illuminated the strange, new landscape of the bones.

After this slight incident, little to no noise is made, and we don’t find the need to speak much in those initial hours. Rather, we sit, let the exhaustion creep back into our bodies and find its way into the mind. I think to ask about resting again, but before I know it we’re trying to move, though our progress is hindered by my inability to walk. I lean heavy on Tommy’s shoulder on my right, and I use a large branch from one of the trees to support the awkward motion of my left. Bell and Efram, while not necessarily rushing ahead, do not wait for us either.

I’m thankful for this, as I’m afraid of the way my body moves on normal ground, much less this newfound restraint of pain and human limitation. I am half afraid the three of them would leave me in the middle of the night, realizing that a broken body like this would be a hindrance, a liability for three otherwise strong bodies. Their presence at the crack of the sun was a comfort, though the longer I walk the longer I get concerned.

I am deadweight, but I am also an easy body to toss to the fire. We will inevitably stumble or be stumbled upon, and I am the easiest to leave behind while fleeing on foot or for the trees. I think of Tommy, beside me and silently bearing the burden of my inability to keep my skeleton together. I tell myself I’ll apologize to him tonight and hope he doesn’t mind the way I can’t put the words together or force sincerity to my tongue.

I think about making this confession now, but the sound of voices through the branches snaps my attention upward and calls the adrenaline back to my brain. The sight of the unknown causes me to lurch forward on instinct, though most of the drive forward is caught by my inability to move momentum from Tommy’s side to the directly ahead.

[kirk bauer attacks charisma duke; sword]
CGnmzpw74bsword
[shallow cut on left forearm -- 3.5]

sword

[goat]

In the dark, the abandoned town seemed less creepy. Delaney didn’t understand why. Maybe it was one of those things that was supposed to be viewed in the dark. Things like half-burnt cigarettes, girls in alleys, buildings with boarded up windows— they all seemed out of place under sunlight. They belonged in the dark, under the dim glow of the moon.

Delaney figured she was one of those things too.

She watched the sun rise from the front porch of the house they’d slept in, already raring to go. It seemed nobody had died in the bloodbath yesterday. How disappointing, she mused. It really hadn’t lived up to its name. At least it meant there’d be more opportunities for her to attack. She wanted it, the bloodshed. She wanted to jam her blade between ribs and bathe in the blood that poured out. She wanted to be carried out of the arena with her head held high and her weapon at her side.

There would be no glory without kills, and she was itching to get a head start.

Which is why, when faced with another alliance deep into the forest, she didn’t hesitate to draw her blade and strike.

“Sorry,” she spat, a grin on her face, but there was no remorse anywhere inside her.


[ delaney attacks 5m tommy o'kelly; sword ]
X9sfbGm9mXsword
1041 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage

day 2 accuracy reroll:
sword
1131 -- Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage

sword·sword

[little bill cubs d8m [tribsit]]

They all agreed Charisma had chosen their shelter well and settled in for the night. It was only later, after the sunset, that he realized she’d chosen too well. It felt eerily like home, a phantasmagoria of District Eleven, a horrible haunting mirror. It was like the house had been arrested mid-harvest. At day break, the ghosts would disappear to work in the fields and only return at twilight, too exhausted to even haunt the tributes hunkering down.

He didn’t sleep much, and what little he found brought on nightmares of his brothers and sisters beating him senseless over and over again.

Near dawn he completed a lazy tour of the house. He kept his footsteps soft so as not to disturb Curtus and his allies if they’d somehow managed to sleep. Really it was a pretty ideal spot to snooze: dark, well protected, and oh-so-quiet. It was only at dawn that he realized why the quiet bothered him: there hadn’t been an anthem.

“No one died yesterday,” he told the others as they ventured away from the safety of their temporary house. “They’re going to want blood today.”

Uneven cracking deeper in the trees. Milo’s nostrils flared as he reached for his curved adze, just in time for someone he vaguely recognized from trading blows the day before to lurch out of the branches and into Charisma sword-first. “Or you know, like right now.”

Delaney seemed happy enough about it. Milo couldn't say the same, but he lifted his adze and followed her into the fight.

[Milo attacks Kirk Bauer; Adze (axe)]

BfX48sMGacaxe

Severed Right Ear -- 8.0

axe

[Deleted]

This first thing I feel is Kurt’s hand, tapping me awake in the middle of the night. My first reminder that all of this is entirely too real. He whispers that it’s my turn to take watch and I nod my head, a hushed, whisper of "ok," escapes my mouth as I force myself to sit up. I don't want to do this watch, yet I have to at least do my part and ensure the safety of everyone else in my alliance. I would rather be far away, ensuring that I can only trust myself, yet I am entangled in this situation. I am unsure of the time, as the edge of night offers me no comfort in knowing anything. It's weird, trying to figure this situation out; within the span of a week my entire life has changed. I still have yet to wrap my head around it as the blackness slowly becomes lighter with each passing minute, getting closer and closer to the end of my watch. I spend the time making a makeshift sling for my arm as I scan the trees, grateful to not see that the crying faces from before, having hidden themselves in the cloak of night. By the time my watch is over, I am afraid that I won't be able to fall asleep due to the throbbing pains of my arm, even with the makeshift holster, but I wake Efram up anyways. I simply nod at him, too tired and in too much pain to bother speaking before I lean myself back onto the ground, wishing I was back in my bed at home.



By the time morning comes, I feel like I only received about 30 minutes of sleep and start to regret not taking the first or last shift. Interrupted sleep does not agree with me as the exhaustion and the pain of my arm are ever so present in my system. Kurt is the first to get up, and tries to stand on his own, as if he forgot about his foot. He crumples in pain and I rush over to his side. I simply nod at him as I pick him up, again not needing to say anything and I drape him over my left side. It's easier for me to have him on my broken arm, leaving my dominate hand free to attack anything that might come across our path. Bell and Efram take the lead, which makes sense as they are the ones who are not currently disabled. I actually appreciate the presence of Kurt on me, a welcome reminder that I am not entirely useless to the team, and even if it is just as a support, I can still be beneficial. It also helps that he is actually very attractive, and if given the possibility to meet outside of this context, I would enjoy his company in more ways than one.

We make slow but steady progress through the dense blanket of trees that we have wrapped ourselves in, not really looking towards any direction in particular. It almost doesn’t feel any different than a walk through the town with friends by my side.

Almost

The axe in my hand and the sling around my arm serves as constant reminders of what is at stake here, and what will soon follow us shortly, even if it's sooner that I had anticipated. We hear voices too close for my own comfort and adrenaline overcomes Kurt as he pushes off of me, diving towards a girl that attacked me yesterday before he really sees her. He manages to make contact with his sword, and a fight is on us. I start to reach for Kurt when a girl I don't know says with the fakest smile on her face "Sorry" before she swings at me twice, missing the first time and scratching my leg the second. I scoff at her, not even bothering to take the time to acknowledge her plastic words when I turn to face the girl Kurt had attacked. I decided to back him up in this fight, but I feel like I should at least address my own attacker.

"If you're going to waste your last few precious breaths, at least make them count. You don't want the world to think that you are just another fake career with nothing to live for, unless that's true and if so I'm sorry. Right now, though I have a score to settle and a friend to help first."

I take steps towards Kurt and the other girl, and it feels like I'm wading through a pool oil, each step dragging through the resistance that isn't there, my adrenaline slowing down everything to almost a frame by frame speed. When I reach the girl, I realize I only have one thing to say.

"I hope that for both our sakes that this goes by fast," and with those final words, I strike.

[Tommy attacks Charisma; axe]
a6__rZvs9_axe
11179 -- Deep Gash on Right Bicep -- 8.0 damage
(Axe)

axe

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

walking in my sleep
like the naked trees
will they wake up again?
do they sleep? do they dream?

i am so so sorry but this is going to have to be a filler because basically im a dumb bitch who left all her homework for the night that its due and i didnt realize how much there is hfuiehuir

but idk expect a sassy comment from bell yep

feel it as the wind
strokes my skin
i am moved by the chill
hear the winter bird sing

( bell attacks milo ; spiked blunt )
06tJRWbxg4spiked blunt
( miss )

accuracy ; day two

spiked blunt
( broken left wrist - 6.5 )

spiked blunt·spiked blunt

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

Nothing changed from night to day.

You didn’t stop for a moment, because you knew if you did, you would have probably met a demise that you didn’t want. Nothing here was predictable, no matter how many numbers you crunched. All you could do was hope that you would be lucky enough to survive till day light.

Even in the arms of Delaney, you knew that the game makers could spring something on you in any moment. That’s why you held onto her arms as she laid your head and wrapped her life around yours. Was she willing to sacrifice hers for yours truly? That’s what you didn’t know, and you wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want too. After all, you knew she was destined for great things.

And you were meant to die here.

You opened your eyes to see hers and you couldn’t help but give a half smile. ”Morning.” You said to her softly as your hands moved over to the cloak that you had laid over yourself as a blanket. ”I didn’t except to wake up like this…” honesty was something that you were good at, ”I like it.” You smirked as you held onto her wrist and caressed it. You noticed the windows of the town and realized something. ”Is it morning even?” Everything was starting to blend together.

You pulled your hand off of her and sat up, the fireplace was still going in the house. ”It’s alright…” You see the sly smirk on her face and you cant help but giggle a little bit. You didn’t think you would find something like this here, but you didn’t. Love was something that you didn’t believe in, but something like it was here. Maybe it was infatuation, or maybe it was lust, or hope, or something even more dark and twisted.

But what mattered now was that you didn’t mind it.

You liked it even.

”It is alright. Were alright.” You said as you closed the gap between you and her and tasted her lips again. You would do it again and again until the moment you couldn’t breath anymore.

And as you pulled back, she spoke. “We won’t be alright for long. I don’t really want to leave you behind, but—never mind” and you could feel the despair in her voice, but you squeezed her hand and simply smiled. ”We don’t have to think about that right now. Just get some sleep. Ill take the next watch.”

You walked out of the house and walked around a bit, but time passed and before you knew it, it was morning. You watched the sun rise only for a moment before you walked back to the house.

You all needed to move.

---

You found yourself in a forest and the smell of driftwood wafted in the air as you felt slightly better about what the day held for you. You didn’t think about people for a moment, and you thought what it was like to be home, but you realized quickly that you were going to be going home.

People had ambushed you, and a with a sword in your side and an axe harrowing towards you, you realized that they were not playing fair. They wanted blood.

Your blood.

They spoke words, they said something about dying. You watched Delaney strike the boy with the axe and you knew that you had to jump into action. ”I hope for your sake your death is slow and painful.” You spoke to him as you brandished your sword and looked at him with villainous eyes. ”Death doesn’t care about that though realistically. So shut the fuck up and just do it.”

And you swung at him.

Charisma Duke attacks Tommy O'Kelly Jr. with Basket Hilt Sabre || Sword
N7wsLHQFJ_sword
[1014 -- Shallow Cut on Left Hip -- 3.5 damage
(Sword)]

sword

[Stare]

At some point, as the sun was just beginning to rise, Ridley stirred. Her fingertips began to shift over old, deteriorating wood, her joints aching from sleeping on such a hard surface. She could smell a dying fire, autumn, musk, death. Her eyes fluttered open and half-asleep, through the haze of partial darkness, the familiarity of the cramped space she was in struck her through the chest. She sucked in a sharp breath and shot up so fast her head spun, feeling as though her ribcage was folding in on her lungs. Pain spiked up her side in that way she knew all too well and she had to brace one hand against the wall to steady herself.

But then, in the light of the dying embers, she recognized Delaney’s silhouette on the front porch. She could hear someone shifting about within the house - probably Milo. The sleep cleared from her mind and allowed memories and common sense to ease back in. Charisma must have been further outside, keeping watch. It was the second day of the Games. Relief flooded into Ridley, so palpable she was grateful her allies weren’t around to see it.

She was in the Arena. Just the Arena.

It still ached to move, but Milo’s words and the look in Delaney’s eyes confirmed what Ridley already knew all too well. No rest for the wicked. They should have killed the stranger who had showed up with Milo when they had the chance. Now he was gone and the Gamemakers would be frothing at the mouth for some bloodshed. Bloody, painful, shrieking - everything the Bloodbath was supposed to be but wasn’t.

And Ridley was ready. She didn’t ache for it like Delaney did, but she knew it was inevitable. She would rather die screaming bloody murder than sobbing over the lives she’d taken, and above both of those she would rather live. Would rather win. Whatever that meant. Whatever it took.

She’d clawed her way out of worse hellholes than this.

So later, when they were ambushed in the woods and their attackers ripped into Charisma, Ridley didn’t hesitate. The sickening thud of Four’s weapon against Milo’s wrist made her stomach plummet, lips pulling back in a half snarl, half grimace. She darted forward so that her shoulder briefly bumped against his, a silent affirmation that just like Delaney and Charisma had each others’ backs, she had his.

These were her allies. She needed them, at least for now, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to let them be torn down without a fight.

“I hope for your sake your death is slow and painful.”

Ridley glanced at Charisma, then narrowed her eyes at the instigator of the fight. “No,” she muttered, almost too low to hear. Perhaps it was the honorable Le Roux inside of her or the instinctive part of her that knew that slow and painful in a fight were words that begged for trouble, but she couldn’t bring herself to agree with her ally. “Death shouldn’t be slow. Let’s just get this over with.”

[d1f ridley le roux attacks d6m kirk bauer with reaper's scythe (glaive)]
Lpxa63K8Xuglaive
[shallow cut on left hip, 3.5]

glaive

[ghosty]

efram.

filler for now, professor threw an assignment due tomorrow this morning D:

- reaction to handcuff + butterfly re's
- yada about tiredness @ butterfly boi
- "Bell, I'll follow what you do, okay?", sorta muttered to her.

[ attacks milo with sword ]
2Id5jmSwU7sword
[ 1039 -- Shallow Cut on Right Shoulder -- 3.5 damage ]

sword

[heather - d2 [mylee]]

My sword glances easily off of the girl’s left arm, and the weight of the backswing causes me to almost catch myself with the blade. Everything about my body and its extensions were unwieldy, and frustration welled up in my stomach, a sinking pit settling in for the season—I see no end to this cold season.

When the first attack comes, I expect it to fall against my skin. Instead, I find myself with closed eyes, tense and waiting for the blow to come but feeling nothing. The sound of Tommy’s voice, tinged with anger, is what ultimately causes me to open my eyes, and this is only in the nick of time to see him land a much stronger blow against the girl I had charged.

More moving than this are the words that have now settled into silence, the sound of Tommy’s voice breaking into air as he said, a friend to help. At home, Franky and I took on the role out of necessity, and he had told me one night when we had both consumed too much of our father’s liquor that he admired me—I had almost vomited at the gesture. Now, I find myself high on the feeling, until the rushing of blood and searing pain disrupts the chain of thought.

My first instinct is to scream, but my throat can’t find the rest of my body and instead I only stare at the ground where my ear lies. I look up and see the boy who did it, but the world starts to swim so I look back at the ground, trace the curves of the bone with my mind’s eye.

Eventually, even Tommy’s support doesn’t feel like enough, and I find myself falling to both knees, trying to avoid dropping onto already broken bones but not really being cognizant to do so. Tommy and the others are holding conversation about death, about how fast, how short it should be. No one asks me for my opinion, but I know that this must be because I am the one who is dying, and to ask for my preferences now would be a crime against me, as they certainly wouldn’t be able to fulfill my requests.

I had written this down, once. Back in Six, maybe a year or six months ago, when my father was at his most unbearable, I had thought first about leaving, about running for the north and not looking back, but the thought of Franky weaving in and out of that life, knowing that I was likely somewhere better pestered me until I unpacked my bag. I could have taken him with me, yes, but he was smaller and not equipped for the cold, and I worried more about his rate of survival in the wilderness and less about the prospect of dislodging a bullet from his body.

Here, I wish for that wilderness, the one that is cold, but quieter, less populated by square foot. Here, I lie on the ground with my head next to my severed ear and sob, barely registering the slick metal of a blade glance against my hip. I do not call out for home, though I long to call for something. My brain screams at the dirt, at Tommy, at me, getupyoulousypieceofshit. I am trying, but there is no muscle in my body that desires movement.

Eventually, I push myself up to hands and knees, and hope for Tommy’s arm against my waist to get me upright. When I find myself standing, the world spins faster than it ever has, and the sword feels ungodly and heavy in both hands. I strike out again, aiming for the girl who I know is as injured as I am. I can only hope for contact.

[kirk bauer attacks charisma duke; sword]
RmUkflO0DIsword
[shallow cut on right calf -- 3.5]

sword

[goat]

There was a crack, sharp and sickening, and Delaney could only watch as the girl from Four shattered Milo’s wrist. She didn’t know anything about this girl, didn’t know whether or not she was a career, or whether she genuinely cared about the people she’d surrounded herself with, but she and her allies had gone after Delaney’s, and for that, she would not relent. She had grown to care about her allies, this ragtag group of kids that had come together despite everything in the world trying to tear them apart. None of them were going to die today. Not if she had any say about it.

She wanted to look over at Charisma, wanted to see if she was okay, but she knew it would distract her, so she turned to scoff at the boy from Five instead— the one who’d attacked Charisma instead of her, even though she’d been the one to strike first. “Monologuing doesn’t make you cool. You know what does?” She readied herself to attack again. “Following through on a fucking fight!”


[ delaney attacks 5m tommy o'kelly; sword ]
FIr6wE1mYssword
1104 -- Block -- 0.0 damage

sword

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

The first hit hurt. He squeaked, the strange and too-familiar sound of bone breaking echoing in the clench of his jaw. He hopped back and forth in a desperate attempt to dispel the pain. Someone clipped his shoulder, a mere nudge, so light it was almost comforting. He sucked in a breath, forced himself to focus, and found none other than Ridley Le Roux coming to his rescue.

He tucked his left hand underneath his right armpit. "It doesn't hurt too bad," he reassured her through clenched teeth.

Bell, the other tribute named their opponent.

And suddenly he recognized her as the girl he'd attacked in the Bloodbath. Maybe he should have been apologizing to her, rather than to Curtus, but he was fuzzy on the details. It seemed too late for that. Probably, it had been too late when they organized themselves into different alliances. And it wasn't like she was a major threat - not like the tributes attacking Charisma relentlessly.

"I think we better worry about Car," he whispered to Ridley. "Looks like they may actually want her dead."

[Milo attacks Kirk Bauer; Adze (axe)]

_bERhHYuoeaxe

[Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage]

axe

[Deleted]

I was about to continue one about the conversation with the others when I notice that Kirk is on the ground, blood quickly pouring out from his head, and sobbing. How did I miss this attack, was I too focused on dodging and attack that my vision turned tunnel? Others are speaking around me, but I don't care right now, Kurt is hurt badly, and I need to be there for him. I move down to his level, wiping the tears from his face as I try to stuff whatever loose fabric I can in what used to be his ear. I can't imagine the pain he's going through at the moment, having to lose an entire ear like that. I try not to shudder at the thought as I feel a sword scarp my hip. I don't have time to really process what's happening to me at the moment, as voices land and fallen and tuned out ears. He pushes himself up and I throw my arm across his waist, pulling him in tighter than before. I can feel his blood gushing out onto my body, but I can't let this bother me at the moment. I see a sword cutting through the air towards me and I put my axe out to meet him, the sword deflecting off of the head of my axe. The girl is the Career I insulted earlier, her mouth is moving but between the blood pumping in my ears and the blood spilling from Kirk's, I can't make out what she's saying. It doesn’t matter anyways. One of us has to die to get this over with, I know for sure that it won't be Kurt. With min by my side I swing back at the girl from before, she was the most hurt when this is started, so she should be the easiest to fall.

The thing that scares me the most is that I barely have any remorse about thinking that sentence.

[Tommy attacks Charisma; Woodcutter's Axe]
33BZI8ioWpaxe
11127 -- Shallow Cut on Chest -- 4.0 damage
(Axe)

axe

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

walking in my sleep
like the naked trees
will they wake up again?
do they sleep? do they dream?

The soft rustle of the wind through the trees woke me up the next morning. It was so peaceful that it was easy to forget where they really were, to forget that Death hid around every corner. I try to lift my arms in order to stretch before standing for the morning, but something is holding me back. My arm attempts to break free again before I realize that I am attached to another boy, and not just any boy, Efram. Cold metal around our wrists and only about a two inch chain separates us. My wrist is no where tiny enough to squeeze out, so I do not even attempt it, knowing I'm just more likely to hurt myself.

I am a queen.

But they are trying to turn me into a fool.

I let my arm fall and the chain clinks underneath us. "Alright Efram, very funny. Now unlock us," Every fiber in my being hopes that this is a prank he decided to pull, but deep down I know it is simply a trick of the Gamemakers.

They want to see their queen fall.

So instead, I decide to stand.

An incomprehensible mutter escapes his lips, and the only things I can gather are 'what key' and some type of apology. My eyes can't help but roll as he desperately searches through his bag looking for a key I know does not exist. "It's fine, we'll figure a way out. Just get up I need to stretch. Quickly!" I bark as he begins to move slowly. Boys.

Always useless.

Finally we managed to get up without pulling Efram's arm out of its socket, and not a moment too soon. There were snapping of branches, ones that I knew were way too loud to be any type of animal. I quickly grabbed my pickax from my bag and readied myself. Based on the noise there seemed to be about four of them. Four that would die very quickly if they didn't learn to be quieter.

They happened to come just to the right spot for that.

The group finally came into view, and quickly I scanned the crowd. They seemed manageable, but they did not hesitate before spreading blood onto the ground. "Bell, I'll follow what you do, okay?" Someone who finally knows his place, a smile crossed my lips.

"Good, then grab your weapon and head this way,"

A few steps and they were face to face with a boy she recognized. Milo. A good queen always knows her subjects, especially ones that disobey orders. He had attacked me in the Bloodbath.

And that simply wouldn't do.

Without hesitating a second I swung my weapon and smirked as I heard the satisfying crack of bone as it made contact. Efram didn't hesitate as he brought his weapon crashing down next, but it barely made a scratch on the boy. "Come on, you're going to have to be more useful than that. Watch and learn,"

Kirk was bleeding badly, and even though deep down I didn't really care about my allies, they couldn't die yet. They were still useful. After a brief pause I spun to face the boy that had just finished drawing the last drops of blood from my allies.

"Remember me pretty boy? Because I certainly know who you are,"

Rebellions must be stopped in order to keep my crown. The first must be made an example of, and quickly.

Or others will follow.

So I swing without a second thought.

feel it as the wind
strokes my skin
i am moved by the chill
hear the winter bird sing

( bell attacks milo ; spiked blunt )
sAQSopiA5ispiked blunt
( result )

spiked blunt

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

The pain hasn’t stopped. Not one bit.

But that cant be your focus right now. You have to focus on surviving. That is the only thing that is keeping the fight alive after all. You aren’t afraid of their blades, or the distinctions of time or desperation as they try to steal you of your soul.

They don’t know how strong you are.

That is what you are afraid of.

---

Your allies are on your heel, and they don’t miss a beat. They aren’t afraid of them either, and that is what made you all work so well. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in your minds that you didn’t want to fight for each other. You were all close, and while you might be a little ragtag and full of gumption, they still wanted to protect you.

Tell you that it was going to be okay.

Kill for you.

All of this was a lot to take in emotionally, but you did it anyway.

Because this could have been the last breath you took Charisma Duke, and like hell you were going to let these shitty boys try to take that from you without slicing off a limb or two.

---

Ridley had a comment, and you simply shrugged it off. ”You aren’t the one hurting Ridley.” You are honest, a fault that only gets backed up by the amount of honesty you carry in yourself. ”I don’t expect you to understand. Just keep fighting.” You don’t have time to sit here and ponder what your life could have been, because right now, it was going to amount to nothing.

It broke your heart.

And watching Delaney miss with her blade made this reality that much more gruesome.

”You are still a fighter Delaney. Don’t despair. You just need one good swing.” You offer as you look at the boys again and simply rolled your eyes. ”And you two, if you are trying to kill me, I suggest you aim for the neck, or anywhere else for that matter.” Your tongue was always sharp. ”The way this is going, you are just going to scratch me to death.” You let out a small laugh, a rarity for you.

Your sword is still firm in your hands.

You used strength you didn’t know you had.

”Here, let me give you an example.”

And you swung.

Charisma Duke attacks Tommy O'Kelly Jr. with Basket Hilt Sabre || Sword
I0YjwU9cc|sword
[1008 -- Shallow Cut on Back -- 4.0 damage
(Sword)]

sword

[Stare]

Ridley wasn't afraid of the fight. She'd been here before, in a hurricane of blood and broken bones, and Death was no stranger to her. Every day after Pax had rescued her, she had trained to be able to survive this very situation or go out fighting. She understood chaos, accepted pain, tried to learn when her blade just barely grazed over skin.

Somewhere, a cannon fired, and her heart nearly stopped. Her eyes darted to Charisma, then Milo, then finally Delaney, making sure they were all still moving. Torren's face flashed through her mind.

And that was what scared her.

Because Ridley Le Roux was playing the Games to win, and she couldn't afford to be soft. She couldn't afford to get attached. She couldn't afford to feel her chest tighten at the blood on Charisma's skin or the sickening crunch of another one of Milo's bones breaking. They were ghosts, they had to be ghosts, or else it meant that she was one. Ridley had seen previous tributes eventually lay down their lives for their allies, giving up everything because of the bonds they had forged, but she was different. Horrifically, selfishly, she wanted to live.

But that didn't mean her allies had to die that day, and it sure as hell didn't mean she was giving up on them.

"Hang in there, Charisma." Her tone was level as her eyes swept around, trying to better assess the situation. So far they were worse off than their opponents, but they still had time to change the tides. "Just a little longer."

And then there was Milo, gritting his teeth through the pain, directing her attention elsewhere. She forced her expression to remain cool and unfaltering, following his advice and narrowing her attention in on Six.

"You and your heart, Milo," she muttered, shaking her head. "You and your damn heart."

[d1f ridley le roux attacks d6m kirk bauer with reaper's scythe (glaive)]
PE769Cop4cglaive
[block, 0.0]

[day 2 accuracy reroll]
glaive
[deep gash on back of head, 9.0 + 1.0 scythe magic]

glaive·glaive