Sound the bugle now // Arabella . Lysander ft. Kenji

[k!ah]

a r a b e l l a .

Sound the bugle now
Play it just for me
As the seasons change
Remember how I used to be

Heart beat fading, hands search her body. They dig threw her pockets, through the layers of her cloak. They pull out what's appeared to be a letter, the name Arabella Shirley scribbled in delicate letters. A cry almost escapes her lips at the thought of them taking it. She recognised the hand writing immediately, a burning at the back of her throat and she swallows the sob, refusing to show her killers just how much she needed to see that letter. It was Ellen's handwriting, her Ellen. But the unopened letter is tossed to the ground, her eyes following it as it fell to the earth beside her broken wrist. Pain, sharp and persistent, surges through her wrist, climbing her fore arm as her fingers desperately reached for the fallen letter, for her Ellen. Desperation burned through her, and she groans her fingers finally closing around the paper.

She had watched as Kenji and Lysander had fled, leaving her to the vultures who picked her clean before scattering into the shadows. She didn't blame Lysander for running, she would have begged her to flee if she could have spoken. But her lungs had burned, eating any words that had attempted to escape her lips, leaving her gasping after the blonde girl from Five. She found herself begging Ripred to find a way for her to survive. To somehow help guide her down the path that would lead her home. To let her live.

But now she was alone.

Truly alone.

She couldn't stop the trembling of her lips as she attempted to roll to her side- but she couldn't. She couldn't feel her legs. She could barely move her body crashing, exhaustion claiming her limbs as the impeding darkness began to caresses her body with seductive fingers, whispering to her to let go, to drift away. To leave the world of the living.

At least she no longer felt the pain, she barely felt anything.

Maybe she should let go, let her mind and body be carried away.

But fear surged through her broken body. Panicked, she tries to push away the darkness. She was scared. Petrified. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to die here. Alone. Sobs begin to tear through her ruined body as she tried to scramble to her feet, as she tried to roll to her side, to find the energy to crawl to the tree line... to do anything but allow death to take her. She could feel him now, breathing down the back of her neck. She could feel his grasp on her throat as her broken body, as she refused to give in to him.

Movement in the treelike and her teary eyes look up to see Lysander approaching. Arabella breaks now, sobbing as she crawls along the ground, note clasped tightly in her hand, desperate to reach her friend.

She wasn't alone.

Arabella would not die alone, in a world full of darkness.

Lysander was her beacon of light, shining through the darkness. She would reach her. Beg her to stay until her last breath, until she faded away...

But not for long.

The capitol would see to that.

She didn't want to come back though. It would be the same wouldn't it? She would take those first breaths only to have them ripped away by the knife of another. Only to have her body ripped to shreds, to have her life stolen from her. To have to take agonising blow after blow until her body bleed out, or her heart gave way.

But come the second time she might die alone, her body broken, her spirit shattered, as she is tossed like a piece of trash into the abyss that would claim her soul forever.

"Ly- Lysander," she sobs, fingers reaching for her, desperate to put some distance between herself and death's prying fingers. "Please... Don't leave me to die alone." she sobbed, her body clasping a feet away from the girl. Dying eyes meet ones surging with grief. She could only imagine how she must look. Broken. Dying. Battered and bruised. "Please can you- you read me," her voice breaks, her lungs temporarily forgetting how to work. "Read me this," she gasps, her fingers desperate as they pushed the letter into her hands. "Please... I... I have to know what she says," more tears leak from her eyes, soaking the earth beneath her.

Maybe then she would find peace.

Now I can't go on

I can't even start

I got nothing left

Just an empty heart

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

lysander.

"Irritated by me? Then live like me.
Think you can walk in my shoes?
Look at me now, I’m your complex, bitch"

Air.

Lysander could no longer find it.

Her breath catches in her throat and a sickening sob left her lips. She knew the cameras were watching, the Capitol, her family, but she did not care. They were far away that the others could no longer see or hear them, so she let the tears roll silently down her cheeks. Kenji probably thought of hr as weak, useless, just like Patricia had been saying all along. But her heart ached for her dying ally. Another person she was unable to save.

One more added to her excruciatingly long list.

When the two were finally undercover she dared herself to turn around, to look at the girl who was broken and bloodied, the girl who was certain to meet Death soon.

They scavenged her like animals, searching through her things as if her body wasn't three feet away. As if she wasn't there at all.

As if they were pretending she never even existed.

Sadness and rage battled inside her. She wanted to reveal herself from their hiding place, to finish the job they had already started, but she knew better. Bella would not want her to waste her life so easily, not even for her. Finally after what seemed like ages the three left. Lysander stood and took a few steps forward, but she was stopped by fingers wrapping around her good wrist.

"Lys-"

She didn't even let him finish.

"I can't let her die alone Kenji."

He wasn't holding on very tight, so it was easy to yank her arm free of his grasp.

"Nobody deserves that."

Without another word she ran back out to the abandoned battle field. The girl, her ally, her friend lay completely still, struggling with each breath she took in.

"Bella. Bella!"

The broken girl began to crawl forward, using the last of her energy to move towards her voice. A trail of blood followed her. It was painful to watch, painful to see her long for the one last thing she could trust. Sobs wracked her body as she grew near.

"Shh. It's okay, I'm here now."

She brought herself gently to the ground next to her friend, ready to hold her until her last breath. But she was not sure if she would ever be ready to let go.

"Ly- Lysander. Please... Don't leave me to die alone."

"I'm not going anywhere."

She brought herself closer to Bella, to give her the comfort of her touch. Gently, she lifted her ally's head and placed it in her lap. Her fingers combed back the loose strands of hair near her face. She smiled softly as she looked down at the dying girl. Lysander had not been there for Hazel in her last moments, her very last breath was taken alone. without someone who truly cared for her. She refused let the same happen to Arabella, she would know that she was loved up until the very end.

"Please can you- you read me, read me this. Please... I... I have to know what she says,"

"Of course Bella."

The paper is crumbled and the writing is smudged in some places from days of being in her pocket, but she smooths out the paper on her knee to the best of her ability.

"Dear my sweet child,"

Lysander's voice catches in her throat. She takes a second to clear it before she begins reading again. She held back any tears that threatened to fall. She had to remain strong. Not for herself, but for Arabella.

"I hope this gets to you. I wanted to tell you that no matter what happens that Matthew and I will always love you. You were a gift we never asked for. Happiness we never knew we needed. Everyday for the rest of our lives we will be so grateful for every moment that we shared with you. From the moment we first saw you in that forest, you were so skinny, so small, I was sure that you would not make it through the night. But you, my dear Bella, are a fighter. A survivor. You, Bella, stole our hearts and we beg you to keep them safe. In the moments you feel so low I want you to remember my smile. In the moments you find yourself slipping remember Matthew's warm embraces.But never forget that it is okay to let go... That Matthew and myself will be okay, we will live on and we will forever have a home for you in our hearts and our home.

Bella, thank you for everything that you have given us. I can never put into words just how important you are to us and I will love you till the end of time.
Until we meet again, if that be next week, or next life time...

With so much love,
-Ellen and Matthew"

A single tear drop lands on the letter, and she quickly wipes it away. Her chest heaves with the effort of every breath she takes, each one becoming more and more shallow as the time passes. She takes her hand and runs it gently through her hair, as if she was trying to put a baby asleep.

"It's okay, Bella. You can go now. It's okay."

Her voice broke on the last word.

Lysander Mae would not be okay.

But she prayed that in the next life Arabella Shirley would be.

elegant

( actions in maint! )

[k!ah]

a r a b e l l a .

Sound the bugle now
Play it just for me
As the seasons change
Remember how I used to be

"Shh. It's okay, I'm here now." Gentle hands tuck themselves beneath her head, her head is pulled onto Lysander's lap, gentle hands running through dirt streaked hair. "I'm not going anywhere." The words gently reassure the dying girl, wrapping her in a protective embrace as she manages a weak smile, her tear filled eyes meeting her friends. Slowly her eyes close, her mind drifting as she focuses on the feeling Lysander's fingers combing through her tangles hair. It reminded her of the way she had sat with Cyro, silently reassuring him as he drifted away, as he took his last breaths.

No, no she wasn't ready. She had to stay awake, keep her eyes open. Open your eyes. Bella open you eyes! Forcing them open she looks to Lysander, she had to hear the letter, to know that Ellen and Matthew would still love her even though she had done such terrible things. Even though she was about to commit the worse crime of all. Forcing them to watch her die. fresh tears begin to well, and she tries to fight them off, but her bodies strength is fading, so instead she watches as Lys carefully opens the crumples paper.

"Dear my sweet child,"

Her voice catches, Arabella studies her face, its okay Lys, its okay to break, she thinks, her hand reaching out to touch the girls heart. "It's... It's okay... I'm- I'm okay," the lies falls easily from her lips, a reassuring smile parting her cracked lips. But as she speaks Arabella's heart- which was already so fragile- begins to shatter, shatter into hundreds of pieces that it didn't matter how many times she tried to pick herself up... she would never find them all, parts of who she is forever lost. Claimed by the Arena, by the Capitol.

"Matthew and I will always love you." 

A sob catches in her throat, her hand dropping to her own heart. Love. It all she had ever really wanted in her life. To find people who loved her, loved her for who she was, not who they wanted her to be. It wasn't till 4 years ago that she ever thought she would experience unconditional love. A love that never died. She was grateful, so very grateful that at least for a few years she knew what it felt like. That Matthew andEllen had allowed her into their hearts without restraint.

"You were a gift we never asked for."

"Happiness we never knew we needed." 

It wasn't until this moment she realised that they needed her just as much as she needed them. It had never occurred to her that the couple was just as lost in life, that it wasn't until she walked into their world that they too, felt like finally all the pieces had fallen into place. Maybe this was her punishment for so selfishly forcing her way into this families life. And her death was their retribution. A reminder that in this world true happiness was just a dream, one so far out of reach that most people just found themselves giving up.

"my dear Bella, are a fighter. A survivor. "

Oh, Ellen, she cries to herself, I'm so sorry that I failed you. Arabella Shirley wasn't a fighter. She wasn't the survivor she had always wanted to be. She was just a child. She wasn't a soldier or a warrior. She wasn't a lion. She was dying. A silly child with a wild imagination. She remembers the moment she was reaped. How she had thought that this adventure she was embarking on was going to be one of excitement and danger. She remembers how quickly Katelyn had shot those dreams down. How Arabella had clung to the thought of a tragic death, one that would be remembered. The vow she had made to Katelyn thick on her tongue. She had promised her that she would become a warrior. That she would pay the world her blood, sweat and tears... But that hadn't been enough, the world had decided to claim her life.

No. Arabella Shirley was no survivor.

"In the moments you feel so low I want you to remember my smile."

Ellens laughter echoes in her ears, she bites her lips to stop herself from crying out loud. It was a sound that filled her with warmth. Different from the searing pain from earlier. Her laughter made her feel like the sun had just risen, the early morning rays kissing her cold skin. It was always contagious. Whenever she burst into laughter, Arabella could never help but follow suit, wrapping her arms so tightly around the woman to make sure that she knew she was her anchor.

"In the moments you find yourself slipping remember Matthew's warm embraces."

the memory of strong arms wrapping around her, lifting her from the ground, swinging her through the air before a gentle kiss is placed onto the crown of her head. Matthew scent fills her nose temporarily drying the tears. In his embrace she had always felt safe. Like no matter what life through at her, if she had him, she would be okay.

"...But never forget that it is okay to let go... "

But-but how could she let go?

How could she leave them with nothing when they had given her so much?

When they had given her her life?

A ragged sob escapes her lips.

"Matthew and myself will be okay, we will live on and we will forever have a home for you in our hearts and our home."

Maybe it would be okay... Maybe she could let go now. Arabella was so tired, she was holding on for them, for Lysander and Meredith. But maybe it would be okay, if she was to just let go. Maybe she didn't need to keep fighting to go home because she was already there, and she would be there forever. Her home was their hearts, the thought brings a smile to her lips, her ragged breathing calming as she once agains focuses on the sound of Lysander's voice, and rhythmic strokes of her fingers through her hair.

Maybe her fight was finally over.

"Bella, thank you... I will love you till the end of time."

Thank you.

Love.

Yes. Arabella Shirleys fight was over. Ellen, Matthew, thank you for everything you have given me in life. she prays silently, closing her eyes for a moment. Thank you for showing me what it meant to be loved. For giving me a family. For taking me in when the whole world seemed against me. I, too, will love you till the end of time.

Lysander is silent for a moment and Arabella forces herself to open her eyes. They meet Lysander's. Her friends were glassy as they fought back tears.

"It's okay, Bella. You can go now. It's okay."

Her voice breaks and Arabella puts all her remaining energy into lift her arms, cupping her fiends face gently as she smiles kindly at her. "Thank you Lys," she whispers,

"its doesn't hurt anymore."

Her hand drops, falling to her chest, her eyes drift shut once again.

Now I can't go on

I can't even start

I got nothing left

Just an empty heart

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

lysander.

"Irritated by me? Then live like me.
Think you can walk in my shoes?
Look at me now, I’m your complex, bitch"

Time was running out.

What once seemed like days to live quickly turned into mere hours as she held Bella tightly in her arms. When she volunteered she was invincible, it didn't matter how near Death was, she was prepared for him. But as she held the last of her allies reality struck. Time was running out.

And it was not on Lysander's side.

No one would miss her at home, she knew that. She was the black sheep of the family, her parents were probably thankful she was soon to be expired. Now they didn't have to plot a way for her to mysteriously die, deep down she knew they wanted her gone all along. It would be easier to just lay there and let the next passing tribute finish her off, but Hazel would want better of her.

She wanted better of herself.

The whole time she was convinced that she wanted to come here to die, to save someone's life that was worth saving. As Arabella takes her last painful breaths, Lysander realized she was worth saving too. Cyro. Meredith. Arabella. If she died all their names would die too, and she could not let her allies death be in vain.

Sobs racked the tiny girl's body as she read her the letter from home, her final request. Bella was frail and looked smaller than she had ever seen her, but she did not let go. She could not.

She would not.

"Thank you Lys. It doesn't hurt anymore."

With one last shuddering breath her eyes close and her hands fall. And finally she is still.

No, thank you Arabella."

The tears fall from her eyes, leaving streaks down her cheeks, and one by one they fall onto her dead friend's forehead.

She no longer tries to hold them back.

Kenji's footsteps echo through the empty area as he finally approaches, but she does not dare to look up. Instead, she continues to stroke the dead girl's hair.

"I'm not usually like this. She just reminded me so much of my sister."

Finally, Lysander meets his gaze. The tears have stopped, but her eyes are still bright red.

"I couldn't save her either."

She was tired of being useless. She was tired of failing. She was going to succeed.

Even if her time was almost up.

elegant

[lance]

It's weird, being the bystander on a field of death and not its reaper. Or, for that matter, its reaped.

One cannon had sounded at the bloodbath, but you'd already been long gone by that point. The second day had seen you torn to shreds by the fucker from Six and his lackeys from Ten. The third had you assisting in giving Kestrel Volant as best a mercy as someone like you could possibly give. The fourth had seen you arrive on a scene and exit it so quickly that you hadn't had time to stew over the broken boy from Three. The fifth had seen you smash your weapon through Bird from Twelve's chest, and then crack through the armor of a muttation in the aftermath.

So it's weird, still breathing on the sixth day and bearing witness to a death you had no part in contributing to. Lysander had followed after your exit, but had begged you to remain close by as Terra, Perdita, and the Seven boy had stripped her body of essentials and left the scene. And no sooner had they gone out of sight than did the girl herself had broke cover.

You'd protested, gripped her wrist, even began to speak. You wanted to tell her that it wasn't the end, that it would be alright. Lys, it's okay. She'll be back.

But you hadn't even gotten past her name before she'd yanked her arm from your grip. Before she'd spoken at you with more conviction in her voice than you'd ever heard before. "I can't let her die alone, Kenji," had fallen from her lips with real, genuine emotion behind them. And after a second, you relented.

It was a personal moment between the two, so the last thing you wanted to do was intrude. Rather, you contemplated. When it had been your first turn, there hadn't been time to mourn over you, for you to share some touching last words. You'd fought, you'd bled, and you'd died, in that order. Your last memory before waking up underground was of Steel's scream and Jones' words as she caught you from hitting the earth.

And then with Three. With Bird. With Steel. Each of their deaths had been so quick, so sudden, that there was no suffering, no last words, no nothing. One stranger, one murdered, one friend, all gone before you could so much as speak. Your indifference, your satisfaction, your frustration, all taken out in different ways.

Eventually, Eleven fades. A cannon sounds. And you decide that, fuck it, you've never been good at this touchy feelsy mushy shit, but right now Lysander needs someone there to stand by her. And you might not be a good talker, but you're a damn good listener.

So you walk over, stopping a few feet behind her. She's absently stroking the dead girl's hair, tears streaming down her face - quite a sight, given the utter indifference she had seemed to give each and every other person she'd interacted with back in the training center. But it's hardly the time for a witty or sardonic comment - even you aren't that dense.

So you wait, and she speaks first. "I'm not usually like this. She just reminded me so much of my sister." And you've never known what having a sibling is like - blessings and benefits of being the only child born before your parents' demise - but you imagine it was something like what you'd felt with Steel, if only a pale imitation of.

"I couldn't save her either."

And hadn't you beat your fists bloody against the ground and shed salty tears in the aftermath of losing her? Wasn't your heart still spiked with icy spears of worry as you thought of her fighting for her life beneath the earth just like you had?

When you respond with a simple "I understand," you find that, truly, you really do.

You stand around awkwardly for a moment. Words were never your strong suit - that's why you'd often skipped school and opted to punch things instead. But eventually, the train reaches the station, and you find some coherence behind your thoughts.

"That was her first time, right?" you ask, for truly, you wouldn't know. Faces were easy to keep track of, but no face had shined on the first night and Steel's face hadn't shined last night, so keeping track of whether someone had both lives to offer or merely one was nigh impossible. "Her first death, I mean."

It's a question that would make no sense in any other context - but those who frequent the Hunger Games live in much a different world than those that do not.

And you and your district partner are no exception.