Top Four: Teddy King v. Terra Montague

[L△LIA]

Following the halftime show the sharks sink beneath the waves, following the orcas out of sight. Anchors are pulled up from the water and the ships begin to move once again. Soon enough Helen's Revenge and The Abyssal are side by side, gangplanks abruptly crashing down to connect the two as their dueling Jolly Rogers catch a gust of wind above.

Congrats on making Top Four! Turn order will be as follows:

Teddy King v. Terra Montague
60/9 — D9f Teddy King [ Sidney ]
43/13 — D10F Terra Montague [ Zoë ]

Tributes may write a non-attack intro post for this thread. This is not required — please notify Lalia and your writing partner on Slack if you wish to opt out of writing an intro.

Please note that non-attack posts are not allowed outside of intros. Additionally, unarmed attacks and mutt attacks are no longer allowed from this point forward.

Weapons continue to be non-transferable.

Death posts may be posted in this thread or in a separate thread.

[sidney]

The world seemed to still. Darby had taken another blow from me, but refused to let me show her the same mercy I had shown Ilya and Kaira. For them, I had made it quick. I refused to let them suffer because they simply didn't deserve to. I wanted to do the same for her, to not drag it out any longer, yet I still aimed for her leg and not her heart. Why? I don't know.  It had been cruel, unusual punishment. But even with her severed limb resting between my feet, she still managed to pull herself to the front of the ship; still managed to hoist herself up on the edge; still managed to die her own way and not by my hand.  Somewhere off in the distance, through the constant rocking of the boat and the crashing of waves against the hull, I hear a distant I'm still counting that! And I can't help but echo the sentiment. It was my last strike that had made Darby flee. It was my intention to kill that had pushed her to end it all before I could even get the chance. But the voice I'd heard had sounded proud. Mad, even, that he hadn't gotten the final blow.  I'm still counting that, I think to myself. But not because I want a higher body count or because I want to instill fear in whoever I may fight next, but because it's my fault. I will bear the guilt for the rest of my days. Or minutes, depending on how lucky I get. I'm still counting that, I repeat over and over, letting the tears flow freely now. There's no sense in pretending anymore. Who do I have to be strong for now? I look around me, eyes roving over all the corpses I've created on this deck.  Everyone else is dead. A sudden jolt pulls me out of the black hole that is my thoughts at the moment, and I look around as the ship starts to shift and turn. The water starts to swirl as whoever is controlling this sea initiates some stupid routine. It churns my stomach as I look out toward the crowd and see their smiling faces. They clap and cheer, ooh and ahh, as sharks and whales circle about the ship.  "Are you fucking kidding me?" But before I can really express my disdain for the pageantry they've turned this game of death into, Helen's Revenge is coasting right for another ship. It saddles up side by side, coming to a sharp halt as an anchor I cannot see is lowered loudly. Gang planks creak to life and latch onto the boat that pulls up right beside me and my eyes land on a small figure, bloodied and blonde.  This is it, I think, taking a deep breath as I climb atop the walkway and slowly make my way over. Whoever this is, she is not the only one who stands in my way. I know because off in the distance I can hear the slashing of blades and the grunting of combat. But she is who stands in my way now.  "I guess it's just you and me then." I don't smile. I don't greet her. I don't pause and offer my name the same way Ilya had done. I don't humanize myself or her because there's no point. We aren't human anymore. We are animals, hungry creatures circling one another at the watering hole, waiting to see who will turn their back first.  And I know one thing for certain: it won't be me.

[ teddy attacks terra ] 6OSaku|tfgsword [ block ]

sword

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

Joy - it’s a beautiful thing. But children of war know beautiful things never last longer than a fleeting moment.

You feel a light graze against his chest from the tip of your sword and the whisper of a breeze against your cheek. With a flourish you twist, swimming against the tears in your eyes and letting yourself laugh anyway. The ringing has dulled and you pretend it is a melody - you haven’t heard music since the Capitol played victory bugles throughout the streets of Ten. How you scowled when they paraded past you, as if their triumph was something to celebrate. As if this was anything but a tragic loss.

When the pirouette finishes, your laughter is cut short - and you feel breath catch in your throat instead, because Lachlan is tipping over the side of the boat instead of meeting your parry in the space between you.

NO! you scream, dropping your sword to jump forward - but there’s an expanse too great between your hand and his shirt and your grip finds nothing but air.

LACHLAN!

If there was an impact, you didn’t see it. If there was a splash, you can’t hear it. The ringing returns, alarm bells in your head, tilting your chest port side over to try and find a sight of him but something explodes from the water instead.

A monstrous tail erupts, heaving itself into the sky and showering you with droplets of water. The shock knocks you backwards as something ominous thumps the side of the boat, sending you clattering to the deck below. You find your sword and grasp it, manic fear for your life and a desperate rage to find Lachlan battling in the palm of your trembling hands.

LACHLA-!

The tail casts a shadow across your eyes and a canon fires.

You know now what that means.

Grief and joy, rage and relief - most of all, you feel guilty. You’ve robbed him of the only thing you could give him, and you’ve robbed yourself of the first and last friend you’ll ever have. You suspect the sound leaving your throat is monstrous, for it feels like an agony you cannot describe. No wound, no death, no loss could ever break you. The concept of grief was a myth to you, Terror of Montague, one you could not comprehend.

But Terra can. It feels awfully familiar, like a dormant force finally let loose after seventeen years. And all you can think about, sobbing and screaming on the deck, is the way those soldiers looked so proud to march across the unmarked graves of dead children when they won the war.

It’s why you survived. It’s why you picked up the knife. It’s why you swore an oath. It’s why you learned to kill. Because the girl in the knife wasn’t smiling, and the girl in the reflection of your sword isn’t even crying - she’s just staring at you, willing you to do what you have to do.

You take a deep breath and stand, turning to the crowd, and bow low and gracious with trembling limbs. To the world, you’re saluting the crowd. To you, you are saying goodbye to a forever boy - one you’ll never forget.

When you rise, you are something of both girls inside of you. Something of Lachlan, now nestled between them, too. A knife, a sword, a whistle in the dark.

It’s muscle memory, cutting down a rope and taking a jump start, using the momentum of your swing to catapult off of your ship into the sky. When you land on the foreign ship your sword slams into the deck, piercing the wood on impact. You find your footing easily, crouching as your feet hit the deck, and pull yourself and the sword upward to face your next opponent.

She says something to you, lost to the silent ringing in your head.

You say nothing and scowl, raising your sword instinctively to block her attack. There’s a weight to her movements, and you feel it in her strike - no sound, but you can feel something new with every blow. Something fierce, something worth fighting for. The twisted frown on your lips breaks into a smile - she’s good, you’ll give her that.

But you’re better.

[ saunders collection '05 - rave ]

terra d10f attacks teddy 9f
zDB6hJLVItsword
Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage

sword

[sidney]

She blocks my strike. Our blades connect, scraping against one another and I'm unprepared for this girl's might. The way she steadies her own blade out in front of her chest and stops my sword from piercing between her ribs. That had been my goal, anyway. I meant to attack hard and fast, so this was over sooner rather than later. Before the last threads of my sanity could come undone. Before I lost any more of myself. I was going to make it quick. I was going to win this fight. But now I'm not so sure. Bracing myself against the hilt of my sword, I push away from her and clumsily try to parry backwards. It's a shitty flourish, a messy attempt at keeping my composure after that embarrassing fumble instead of a killing blow like I had so hoped it would have been, but part of me knows she'll see right through it. I've played my hand now, shown her all my cards and gave her all she needs to put me in my place.  And she does just that.  It's quicker than I expect, her swipe to my leg. Smart, taking me down at the knees. I wince as a response, trying not to whimper and show just how much pain I'm in. But the truth is everything hurts now. My arms are so tired and my head is pounding from what I assume is blood loss, but I can't be sure. All I know is that Kaira stabbed me in the foot before I finally slipped a blade into her back. I hadn't felt it at the time, not with all the adrenaline, but now? As this little hellion tears open my pants and flesh beneath, it's all I can feel.  "You are not going to make this easy, are you?" I sigh, leaning back to rest against the railing of the ship to catch my breath for a second. My voice is quiet, words spoken aloud, yes, but meant more for me than anyone else. No one else had put up much of a fight, really. And it hadn't been my specialty before all this. I like the shadows, the dark corners where nobody looks. I move quickly, quietly, and without hesitation just like my father taught me. "Guess I can't blame you." My eyes lull shut and I inhale a deep breath of sea and iron, hating the doubt that's swelling within my chest. Loathing the pregnant pause I allow myself to take over the space between me and her. Mostly because I don't know why. When the six of us boarded Helen's Revenge, I knew immediately what had to be done. If I was to survive, the rest of them couldn't. They had to die, by any means necessary. And much to my unexpected dismay, they all did. I made it out alive and here I stand. All I have to do is win. All you have to do is kill her, I think to myself, eyes opening and gravitating back to where she stands. Just one more. Three, three, three... I step forward and Ilya's voice screams in my head, piercing through every other sound and churning my insides like meat in a grinder.  Three, four, five... Bile rises in the back of my throat, threatening to spew right in her direction, but I swallow hard and tighten my grip on the hilt of the sword. What's one more at this point? A dark, sinister voice asks in the back of my mind and I don't like the way it feels. I don't like the way it slithers around my thoughts and soothes my conscience like it was born to do so. I look at the girl across from me and wonder what her name is. I think about what she likes to do, if she has any hobbies, if she loves anyone back home. Who is she? I ask. Does it matter? The voice answers back. No, I think and hate myself for it.  I swing my sword anyway. Because it's better than drowning. Because it's better than being devoured by sharks. Because I would rather die on my feet with a blade in my hand than on my knees turned away from a gun pressed to the back of my head. Because I would rather die fighting.

[ teddy attacks terra ] qfeLfUi0BPsword [ sc on back -- 4.0 dmg ]

sword

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

The first thing you'd said to the Montague Boss was that you'd never seen your reflection.

Mirrors weren't mirrors in war. They were shattered glass, blown up vehicles, remnants broken into so many pieces they'd never be able to be what they once were. Vanity was a luxury few cold afford, and to find an equal partner was a risk to the heart too great. Even as you fought in that house you'd never found your equal, preferring the comfort of your own solitude. No child could beat you, not really. Not the Stroms or the Cottonmouth's or the Copperhead's. There were more graves etched with your surname than there were dead bodies in this arena, and you made damn sure you'd never become one of them.

Until now, as your blades clash and you see a pretty girl standing before you as determined, haunted, and able as you. For a moment you are mirror images and you wonder if the agony you feel in your chest for Lachlan matches her own grief. A quick glance to her ship reveals just as many dead bodies littering the deck as your own, blood mixing with water to stain the wood red. Her mouth forms words and you catch 'You are not...' before the rest fall away to the ringing, but her blade finishes her sentence for you.

Wincing, you turn back to face her and grit your teeth. Part of you wants to tell her that you can't hear her, that whatever she says won't make a difference - but there's still discipline in the way you fight, not just in your movements or strikes.

You know what she's asking - or at the very least, have an idea.

Be smart, your conscience tells you. Don't reveal your weaknesses. So you just shake your head and step forward, curling your arm inwards and lashing out with flare.

No, you choke out, hoping the words in your throat don't sound as pathetic as they feel. I'm not.

[ saunders collection '05 - rave ]

terra d10f attacks teddy 9f
rYTToGLDX6sword
Severed Left Hand at Wrist -- 9.0 damage

sword

[sidney]

I have always thought I was one of a kind. Like no other. A unique wolf in a world filled with sheep. I saw myself as the huntress and everyone else as my prey. Not because I wanted to feel that way. Not because I hoped everyone would fear me and shudder at the whisper of my name, but because I was raised that way. My father taught me to see the rest of the world as my enemy, to view them as weak and myself as strong. And I'd carried myself that way for as long as I could remember. With a knife hidden up my sleeve and a chip on my shoulder. Looking toward my adversary now, I only see myself. Another young woman on the brink of utter destruction because of the path laid out before her. Except she looks better prepared for the journey. She's bloodied, sure, but I know I look half-dead. I can feel it in my bones, in every limb as I move them. My will is only so strong and they refuse to work for me and instead work against me at every turn. I would curse them if I had the strength. I could kill you if I hadn't just fended off four others, I think quietly though my eyes narrow and a grimace sets in along my jaw. I want to scream that this isn't fair, that I deserve a second chance after a good night's rest. But what's the use? Standing before me is a girl with a sword in her hand and she's charging right at me. It doesn't matter if it isn't fair; it's happening anyway.  Bringing my left arm up, I try to block away her strike just like I had seen her do before. But my other arm is throbbing and I don't raise my blade quick enough to stop it. She slices right through my wrist and I scream out in agony. My limb snaps aright off and blood gushes from what is now a stump at the end of my arm. I watch in horror as my own hand drops, no longer connected to me, and splatters atop the deck of the ship. Not only will I die today, but I'll lose every last piece of me in the process it would seem. I refuse not to carve out a few pieces of her along the way. I'll leave my mark on you, I think as I reach my sword above my head. Forever. But I underestimate my blood loss and instead stumble forward clumsily, falling to my knees before Death herself.  "Just make it quick," I whimper, accepting the fact that despite how hard I tried, it just wasn't enough.

[ teddy attacks terra ] JqyaVfzYyEsword [ miss ]

sword

[[ retro gm ] angel lí ✨]

They made you watch the last five years. Study Adder and Samí and Babe and Mohammed, see what kept them alive in a sea of chaos. Then you picked apart the others until you could recognise a lost cause, until you could predict the end of someone, until you could watch a little girl called Audrey crawl across the floor and beg for death and not bat an eyelid.

You realise in this moment, as the girl in front of you loses her left hand and whispers something you cannot hear, that you’ve seen this scene before. A deadly boy from Nine grants her mercy, slitting her throat and watching as the blood spills across her pyjamas. You’d thought him peculiar, so willing to kill without thought - and then he’d surprised you. He was multifaceted, peaking your curiosity. How could someone so viscious be so generous in the same moment, killing a small girl as she asked?

Maybe you’d have made the same decision, if you’d thought you’d had a choice between slaughterer and slaughtered.

No voice, no sound, just a moment of déjà vu.

She could have been great, you think solemnly - mourning your equal and the mere slither of time you’d been granted together. You could have been friends, in another life. In another time, far away from this place, where you are more ships passing, crashing, sinking.

You have the knife, as you always have - except this time it’s a sword, and it feels heavy with the weight of mercy as you lift it above your head and breathe. Did Oliver feel the weight in his hands? Was he better or worse for it?

Before you strike, you wonder who will watch this back. Wonder what they’ll think of you. Viscious? Merciless?

Does it even matter any more?

You think not. But you lower your sword anyway and press it gently to her throat, feeling her fear and pain through the vibrations. Terrible, merciful, you look her in the eyes as you slide the blade from left to right like you’d done a hundred times over.

Make it quick, she had asked. Make it stop, Audrey had begged.

So you do. And you know, no matter what anyone else thinks, that it matters.

To her. To you, most of all.

[ saunders collection '05 - rave ]

terra d10f attacks teddy 9f
x0d9Ha3dVYswordsword