Everything at Once | Fall From Grace Day 3 Leisure

[Tom]

c y r o .

A trial of red follows him; the burn of his own blood and adrenaline now mixing into a single throb of a broken heart. His mind continues to spin and spin with Will Johnwayne; a boy who had watched his father die and grew up without him because of the games. Xander wouldn't end up like him. He couldn't, but deep down there's an ache of what if he could. There's a questioning thought that comes spiralling across his mind; burning down his own heart in a fire of blue and red. The worry eats him up and he's on the edge of his feet; feeling like he's going to sink into a hole somewhere in the field of wealth and disgusting disregard for the people of the districts.

Eleven was together, but they carried the curse of their legacies with them. Burnt into their skin; their numbers glitter as if the memory of what Eleven must always face comes to a head here. Together, they were stronger. Together, they could life one another up. Apart, they would crumble under the pressure. A chill hits him as he feels colder than before; the amount of blood he's lost making him feel delirious as he needs to stop; resting his own feet among the pile of gems staring back at him. Fingers wrapped tightly around his pack as he begins digging through it for what he needs. Pulling out the rest of the needle and thread he has, he begins closing up the wounds that he can with what's left. Calm and steady fingertips clutching the needle without anymore adrenaline coursing through his body, slowly he rips out a page from the sketchbook containing Xander's drawings, except this page is empty. Softly, he begins to write on it, finger coated with blood. A warning, a message, something for someone else to find, as he removes one of the knives from his bag and stabs it into the ground.

Afterwards, he starts patching the wounds; leaving him more and more like himself as he glances up to see the others. He's sewn up, eyes heavy with his own thoughts, feeling much better than moments ago. Still not exactly great, but much better than before. Standing back up, he takes a deep breath, trying to smile at his allies, knowing Arabella must be having a hard time with killing someone. Meredith looked frazzled from something and Lysander seemed to be herself; except definitely going through withdrawls. A grimace almost pulls on his lips, but instead he leans on his sword stabbed into the earth glancing to the others. Eyes reaching Arabella as he gives her a small smile.

"Y-You saved my life and stopped my son from ending up an orphan."

A moment before he just feels everything hitting him, slowly he steps forward with a warm hug; arms wrapped around his district partner as he whispers his gratitude.

"T-Thank you."

Teary eyed, he wipes away at them with his sleeve before letting go, softly. Fingers running through his own hair, remembering the way Will's words hanging in his ears. The biggest piece of shit was him for leaving Xander behind. Wealth and glory were never what he was looking for. Cyro only wanted to give his son peace. Find a place where his son would be happy, whether he lives or dies. Katelyn Persimmon would make a perfect mother for him. Teach him that the world wasn't perfect, but also give him some of the light that does exist in the dark of the world. A shiver runs down his spine as he leans back onto the sword, eyes reaching Meredith as he crosses his arms.

"So that was Johnwayne."

Fingers brush gently against his chest, ignoring the ache from the fresh wound still. Blood coated fingers and a heavy breath as he stares out into the distance; not seeing a single face out there. Will Johnwayne was going to be a handful all games if he continued to be a thorn in his side. A moment of thinking as his taut jaw shows the stress that comes forward through his mind as he thinks for a moment of what to say. Call the punk awful. Call the punk stupid. Instead he understands in a way, fathers can be shitty, he wasn't free of all guilt from this. Cyro wasn't being a good father since he threw his life away to give his son a better life, but it felt like the only way anyone would listen to him.

"He's quite the little punk, but I guess he's been through a lot."

Fingers fumbling with his cloak as he sighs.

"Let's try not to run into him again; he did quite the damage to me and I'd rather not let some punk decide I am a terrible father when only Xander gets to decide that."

Only his son gets to decide if he's a bad father. No one else gets to decide for him. Eyes glancing around as he notices a fluttering of wings; remembering Flutters who had failed him. Fingers taut as he pulls himself forward; knowing that this will probably not be the last time Cyro Krane sees Will Johnwayne. A kid who's been through enough pain in the world. He didn't want to be someone to cause him anymore. At least, for now. Jumping forward, he tries to catch the feathers between his fingertips, but he can feel the way his heart beats.

Everything was still hitting him at once.

Cyro was on the edge of a breakdown.

No one needed to know this.

So he sucks it up;
pretending he's in front of his father again.

The only biggest piece of shit in the world.

(Cyro tries to catch a word; more actions in tribute maintenance)

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1-2

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

l y s a n d e r .

A single knife.

But they all shatter.

Each one of Helle's figures falls into a million pieces, scattering the ground and adding to its colors. Only her real body remains, crumpled on the ground, the single knife still lodged in her eye. Lysander breaks her gaze from the broken girl, afraid that if she stares at her too long her body will shatter too.

A scream is trapped in her throat, longing to be let free, but Meredith already has her by the arm and is dragging her through the field of gems. Each step is a struggle as her mind plays tricks and her body seems to fall apart. Finally they created enough space and Mer let go. Her legs wobbled and her body crashed to the ground, she attempted to brace herself, but instead the loose gems cut into her hands and her blood spilled onto the field. She attempted to look up and find Arabella, in shock that a little girl could be capable of something as terrifying as death. Swift and decisive her knife flew from her hand and ended another's life. There were too many of them, at least six of each of her allies, to find the real Bella. Lys crawled away as quickly as she could, distancing herself from the army of tributes. She struggled to get away, kicking up gems and causing more scrapes to form. Her eyes flashed quickly around the group, unsure of who to make eye contact with.

"You. She. Knife. Killed."

The words were incomprehensible and her breath was shallow. She brought her hands up to her face and clawed at it, leaving smears of blood running down her cheeks. Each thought that crossed her mind seemed to come to reality. Her father stood in the background, followed by her mother, and finally Hazel approached her. She grabbed her hand and brushed back her hair in an effort to calm her. Lysander was about to speak, but in an instance her sister had turned into a snake and latched on to her arm. The pain was excruciating as the venom coursed through her brain. The lost scream finally left her lips, echoing in the emptiness. It carried on and on until there was no more voice left to give.

A girl was dead.

She would most certainly be next.

The figures approached her in a giant swarm, smothering her body.

And in a split second there was only blackness.

A split second, and there was nothing.

( actions to be mentioned in maint )