Raging Storm [Gay panic v Frigay day 4]

[Cato]

It's hard to sleep when everyone is so close together because I never know when someone might have an idea to try to kill us while we're sleeping. The fear is in the back of my mind, and every time I start to drift away, I force myself awake. It's easier being awake. Nobody can sneak up on me, and if I fight back I can wake the others, and we'll have a massive brawl. Surely it would be a death sentence. I lay on the ground staring at the sky. Meeting up with Love today gave me the much needed strength to carry on. A little piece of home is all that's needed sometimes.

I take a breath as the anthem plays, and only one face lights up the sky. Only one person has died, and I'm sure the gamemakers aren't pleased with us. I'm sure they're angry we're not doing what they want us to. But that's okay. We're playing the game. Not them, but I know not to test them. I look over to my side, and Bellamy is still close by, but I have no idea where Bubby is. Bubby talks about teamwork and working together, and this is what he does? Runs away? I hope to never see him again. Both Bubby and Mauve are dead to me.

"So much for teamwork." I hear Bellamy speaking, and I can't help but smile knowing he's still here. We've been through a lot together, and I promise to never leave him until I have no other option. Truthfully, a apart of me is afraid he'll leave too. I sigh, and I watch some clouds start moving in. I didn't come into this arena to make friends, but Bellamy is a friend. He's my only friend here. Of course if he leaves me by choice, that will change. "Stay or leave. Everyone else has left me." My voice is quiet as I keep looking at the sky. "The choice is yours."

Everything is silent for a bit. and I can't help but wonder if he's really going to leave. I gave him the option, and I understand if he does. Deep down I don't want him to. We're a team, and I hope he thinks the same. "I'll stay." He finally says, and in that moment I can't help but smile. Dying alone is scary. Dying alone is something I don't want to face, and I won't have to now. "Everyone's left me before too. I know how it feels." My heart drops. There's more to Bellamy than meets the eye. He's a nice guy, but I can't let him get into my emotions too much.

I must've finally fell asleep not long after we talked because I wake up to a loud crash of thunder bellowing through the sky, and lightning so bright it lights up everything. It's dark still, and I can't see anything. I grab my stuff as the rain starts pouring down, and it's not just a drizzle. It rains harder and harder, and the ground is becoming soaked, and it's quickly starting to have standing water. This isn't good. "Bellamy! We have to go!" I throw my bag over my shoulder, and I start running hoping he's behind me.

I've never seen a rain like this before, and I know it's created by the gamemakers, and I know they're probably angry at us since we're ruining their game. I hear a voice echoing through the loudspeakers saying we better move, and I'm running as fast as I can. My lungs are hurting. My heart is racing. The water is rising faster and faster and I look back to make sure Bellamy is coming. "Come on. Hurry. We have to get out of here." I'm not even sure where I'm going, but I'm climbing up, and I don't know if the water will even stop before it reaches here.

I grab the fire poker Love gave to me in exchange for the bat, and I'm holding it close as I lean forward catching my breath. It's hard to see through the torrential rain. I look around, squinting trying to figure out which way is which, and that's when I see them heading my direction. I have to strike before they have a chance to. I ready the fire poker, and when they're close, I launch it through the air. Striking first is important especially when I hope they aren't sure where it came from.

Liara attacks Thread | Javelin

9iGPdmsteUjavelin
15055 -- SPEAR THROUGH HAND -- 8.5 damagejavelin

[ryan]

The night had been weird. His interaction with Love and then the campfire. It was all, odd if he was being honest with himself. Not one person tried to take a swing at him, and to be quite honest, he was surprised. Because that would have been the best time to do it. Thread knew well that feasts had always been bloody, but it this one had been different. No blood shed, not a single tear cried. Just a bunch of strangers awkwardly trying to make small talk while trying to make it through to the morning.

Thread did, and so did Fleur. They were quick on evacuating the area as soon as it made sense. He felt loads better after taking a long sip of water at the feast, he glanced at some of the other tributes, listening instead of saying anything. Honestly, he didnt feel like it was his place. Thread had always found a way to blend in rather than stand out. He was not Stitch, and he had no intentions of trying to add anymore heat on himself.

Once Fleur and him were away far enough, they took a moment to at least talk about what had happened. Thread had took a deep breath as they started to relax and let the night kind of just take them away. They had placed a lot of trust into the others, and now that they were somewhat alone, they could have a chance to be vulnerable with each other again. Thread wasnt going to lie, he enjoyed the deep conversations that they shared. He wouldnt have picked anyone else to trust in here.

He let the time pass as he felt himself doze off a little bit. It seemed like a good amount of the tributes had done the same. If any of them were smart, they would have taken the chance to kill each other in their sleep. Thats probably what Stitch would have done? Right? Because he was such a monster. He shook his head as the thoughts had come and gone. He really needed to let go of what once was. The past was not something that he wanted to grip in his hands, feel it pressing against his cheeks and forcing itself down his throat.

Stitch Gabel was dead, and Thread Gabel was hell bent on trying to survive.

---

And the morning came, but so did the rain. Thread got up, waking Fleur, telling her that they needed to get to higher ground.

But that didnt matter after a couple moments.

It mustve been a special day in the arena. Thread remembered the same day in Stitch's arena. So many deaths in one day, probably the most in a normal hunger games. Stitch had survived that day, and Thread was hellbent on doing the same thing. "Rain is never a good thing here huh?" Thread looked at Fleur as he made sure they rushed towards a tree.

There was enough coverage from some of the rain, however, that did not stop it from raging wildly. He took a deep breath as the air had hit him like a brick wall. And then something hit him in the hand.

And it went right through it.

A spear.

Flashbacks from the finale Stitch had died in started to replay in his mind. The rain had been thick, but Thread narrowed his eyes and noticed that someone was in the distance. Two people actually. A girl and a boy, both of which seemed like they were just as lost as they were.

But with closer inspection, he could make out the three on the boys uniform.

Oh how the universe was a bitch.

"I guess were enemies to them." Thread had felt a little adrenaline take over as he pulled the spear out of his hand and threw it to the side. "Hmmm..." Thread's hand moved to his own spear, of which had done him so many good things since he had gotten into the arena. "Looks like game makers wanted to see some vindication." Thread looked at Fleur, realizing that he needed to make his way into the fray.

"Hey!" Thread screamed across the way, his hand still writhing in pain, but he couldnt stop for anyone. "I hope you see the irony in this." Thread closed the gap between himself and the other two, knowing that Fleur is right behind him. "I guess that this one is going to be for Stitch." And he takes the spear and thrusts it forward.

He has to survive.

He has to.

[Thread Gabel D8M attacks Bellamy Scott D3M | Fire Poker (spear)]
LGkmwXWcKaspear
[3097 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
(Spear)]

Accuracy reroll day 4

spear
[3107 -- Deep Gash on Left Bicep -- 8.0 damage + 1 for strength = 9.0
(Spear)]

spear·spear

[fireflyz]

filler for overnight stuff
Fleur n Thread talk about regrets and such

---

If morning had arrived, Fleur wouldn’t know it, because the sky was as dark as the space behind her eyelids. An involuntary shudder took hold of her body as she emerged from sleep, and she quickly learned that it was because she was drenched to the bone. They needed to get to higher ground, Thread said, and as Fleur stretched her limbs, palms finding water instead of solid ground, she agreed.

”Rain is never a good thing here, huh?” he asked.

”We picked a bad day to find a lake,” she quipped in response. She hugged her drawstring to her chest in an attempt to keep it dry, realized it couldn’t get wetter, and then settled on holding it above her head for cover. Her feet sank into the muddy water as she walked, and she found herself lifting her knees higher and higher until they finally reached the same trail they’d visited just a day prior.

Something thrummed in Fleur’s chest, telling her that something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint it. It seemed that the longer she survived in here, the less attuned she was to her own cues. Maybe that was how so many victors learned to live with themselves.

But for now, it was calm, and Fleur allowed herself to slump against a tree. She breathed in the peace for a few moments, and then it was shattered (or more accurately, pierced by a spear). Her chest constricted at the sight of Thread injured, and the lack of sight for who (being undoubtedly human) had caused it.

Fleur looked around wildly, hand fumbling for the grip of her machete but finding the knife Thread had given her instead. No. No, no, no. Just yesterday, she had lamented not being able to face the people she had hurt, and today when she was finally meeting someone in battle, she couldn’t even see to confront them properly.

Guess I’ll have to continue being a coward.

Fleur freed the knife from her belt and flung it through the wall of rain.

[fleur attacks bellamy with thrown butterfly knife]
SIOC978jDJthrowing knife
5.5 knife in forearm

throwing knife

[Tom]

"You look cute when you're angry."

Mauve's voice rings through his skull; an echo of a firing gun wrecking through his brain as he can feel the annoyance bubbling through his chest. Tossing and turning through the night, ignoring the fear of anyone capable of killing him if he were to try and sleep. Mauve's cold eyes staring at him with that same chill of those mutts that ripped into his throat and made him bleed down the front of his uniform. The wind swirling around him as his head is pounding with words left and said.

"Oooooh, Bellamy, lovely, was that a threat?"

A threat from the boy who's seen enough death in his life only to volunteer to see more and more of it. A silence filling him with the sour taste of gunpowder and blood; swirling through his senses as he finally just sits up, gripping at his hair. There's pain in his body, where the wounds still peek out around the edges. Stitches holding his neck together and the bandages along his body making him feel heavy, but he stares up to no one. Alone with just Liara nearby, he can feel his own heartbeat in his throat. Annoyance at Mauve building and building like the storm around them; pressure along his skin breaking through the calmness he always manages to keep.

Lucas would hate Mauve with all his heart. The girl was insane, but Bellamy could see the usefulness in her craziness. The blood spilled by the mutts on the second day had been proof enough, but now he's alone with Liara. The girl who was dependable, but always at odds with Mauve and didn't like him for even being from the same place as her. A silence fills him as the anthem bleeds over ahead. The attractive guy from five staring down at him as he looks over to Liara, realizing Bubby's left them too. The guy had finally broke and Bellamy felt the annoyance bubbling once more.

"So much for teamwork."

The words are barely loud enough to feel right. His eyes roll against the anthem's skies as he lets the words hang in the air. Bubby and Mauve had showed their true self. Bellamy wasn't going to fault either of them, but if either of them died, it'd prove his point. His eyes follow along the dirt until he stares to the clouded skies wondering why Liara hasn't left him. Everyone else in his life had. Lucas. His father. His mother. Everyone's been gone for a long time. He's managed to pretend none of it hurt, but he still has the scars of the memories upon his tongue. The heartache always was there beneath the surface of his skin, etched marks upon the red stone cold parts of his heart. An ache that no one truly realizes is there.

Smart enough to not let anyone else get to close to him in fear of exposing everything he carries. Lucas had been close, but finding Sierra and him in that room had left his choking on the butterflies fluttering through his chest. The aching feeling of jealousy that built up in his throat coughing out the feeling of sorrow until he couldn't breath. Alone. He's been alone for so long, but he's used to it. Liara, Bubby, and Mauve were just tools to survive. Even if Liara has proven herself to be more than just a career who could fight. Even if Bubby's shown the softer parts of a person in just a few moments. Even if Mauve's changed him from the coward he's once been to someone he doesn't completely recognize.

"Stay or leave. Everyone else has left me." Liara's words hit him hard. The surprise sending him spiraling in a way that hurt more than he expected. Everyone's left her? Everyone's left him. His eyes focus back onto the earth as he stares at Liara with wide eyes for a moment. "The choice is yours." In just a moment, he's seeing her for the first time. A quietness to her tone that lingers with a feeling in his own chest. Understanding along his own features as he looks at her. Red hair tucked away, bright eyes staring upwards, and a girl who's been trained to be strong showing him something real. His eyes scan her for a moment before he looks back to the sky, letting his own thoughts race for a bit.

"I'll stay." The smile out of the corner of his eyes is enough to show he's made the right choice. A sorrow washes over him as he stares back to the stars, letting himself take a second to let the words come forth. "Everyone's left me before too. I know how it feels." Alone. Bellamy Scott's been alone for so long. Spent years by a windowsill watching the rain drip down the glass, imagining those dots to be a kingdom warring with the other raindrop kingdoms until connecting together into one. Mysteries of his own creation bubbling through his head as he stares to the perfect clouds as a kid. Every day had been a lonely one. Dying alone is what he expected to happen. Boys like him didn't have friends.

Looking over to Liara, he can see she's fallen asleep around some point when his own memories began to come forth. Watching her for a moment, he can feel the sorrows of his own life stick around. Asleep, he can see the peacefulness wash over her face and all he can do is reach out softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. His words drip with a softness as he starts laying back down a little bit away, setting himself up for sleep.

"Goodnight, Liara."

A loud crashing of thunder wakes him up. The sound of lightning and thunder echoing along his vision as he wakes up groggily. The rain starts with a downpour of water; the chill echoing across his skin as he stands up now, grabbing his pack. He should have set up his tent. Built them a shelter for the night, but he didn't want everyone else to be able to pick them out at the campfire. "Bellamy! We have to go!" Liara's the one he can hear as he's starting to see the water standing on the ground. Realizing how bad this is, he bites his lips of a sarcastic comment about the rain wouldn't melt him, but for once he's panicked. There's fear on his face as he starts running towards high ground. Liara's leading the way, much more accustomed to the exercise, but he's able to keep up fairly well out here.

The voice booms through the rain and he's already heading up with Liara. "Come on. Hurry. We have to get out of here." Rushing up the hiking trail, rain pouring across his outfit, bleeding the red away to the beige it once was. The gamemakers were angry with them. Bellamy couldn't tell exactly which way they've been running, but the rain's taken his energy. The exhaustion building up as the chill in his bones sets in. He's finally stepping up to catching up with Liara who's scanning the area around him. His heart hammering in his chest as he takes a breath, words slipping past his lips.

"Give me a sec-"

A second isn't what he gets as he watches the fire poker sail through the air straight for two people. His eyes start to catch up with his brain as he recognizes them both. The Eights. Fleur and Thread. His mind starts to try and remember what he can about each of them, but he's also annoyed. Liara didn't have to start a fight with the Eights. A sigh falls from his lips as he mumbles under his breath to no one. "Just had to be the Eights." Pulling his own fire poker out, he can feel the exhaustion in his body, he needed a moment to wait to strike. Finding out if they would attack would be better than just outright striking, but as soon as he hears Thread. He knows.

"I guess were enemies to them." Bellamy watches the strange guy pull the fire poker out knowing it hurts. "Hmmm..." Reading the guy's lips, he can see what he's saying. Those words weren't exactly hidden to him. "Looks like game makers wanted to see some vindication." The guy comes closer now, weapon threatening at him. There's an anger to his voice when he screams hey that just makes Bellamy more confused about this entire situation. Liara just had to pick a fight with the Eights. Couldn't have been like Eleven? He could take on the red haired kid for sure.

"I hope you see the irony in this." Irony? What irony? Bellamy had no idea what Thread was talking about. He's got nothing to do with the guy. Like sure, he's not completely helpless in a fight or in the arena; setting up traps for unsuspecting people. Thread could have stepped onto his battery trap, but he doesn't remember much of where everyone else went after day one. A silence falls over him as he listens once more for the answer to finally become clear. "I guess that this one is going to be for Stitch." Blood comes from his arm as the answer clicks into place. Past games. Now everything finally made sense. Bellamy Scott wasn't like Akira Sokatoa. Blood drips with pain from his arm as he pulls back, avoiding more damage than needed.

Fleur picks this moment to send a knife flying towards his hand. Blood drips as Bellamy pulls it out, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes flash through his own memories of the past games. Stitch was ages ago. Nine years since the guy died to Akira in the arena. Did Thread really want to kill him for something almost a decade ago? It's not like he had anything to do with it. Bellamy's from Three, but he isn't all of Three. A silence fills him as he lets the pain wash over him. For a moment, he's mad Liara attacked these two, but it was bound to happen anyways. Killing tributes was the point of the games. He didn't really want to be like the person who killed his father or Mauve, but if he had to, he would.

"That was like ages ago, dude." His eyes scan the area around them, making sure the water is flowing past them and not sticking around. If none of them were safe, then all of them would die. Finding shelter from the flooding was priority, but setting himself comfortable in his own spot, he could see there was no other options here. The gamemakers would want blood whether it was his or someone else's. "Get over yourself, dude. It's been nine years. I haven't done shit to you." Stepping forward, he can feel his own heart in his chest racing. Rain pouring over his skin mixing with the blood on his arm, reigniting what pain is still there.

"You really had to pick a fight with the Eights, Liara? Especially the one who assumes Three needs to be what? Punished? Shown revenge?" He looks over to Thread not caring if the guy is keeping up with the conversation. A grimace on Bellamy's face as he pulls forward once more as he sets himself up to strike. Ignoring the way he doesn't quite want to fight against actual people, but it was him or Thread and Bellamy really liked being able to breath. Mauve and Bubby could be who knows where in this storm and he was stuck with Liara starting fighting with an Eight taking revenge for a brother who's been dead for nine years. "Like boo freaking hoo? Kill someone who actually cares."

The irony is he's been looking for his father's killer for longer, but no one else needs to know that. Mauve's better at pushing people's buttons than him, but he's been learning. Pulling his fire poker forward, he lets the rain streak across the blackened end of it, staring right back at him. Bellamy wasn't a killer yet. He's afraid of hurting anyone. He's afraid of being in the arena, but he has to put on a brave face and pretend he's not. Liara was with him. He could do this. She believed in him. He wasn't alone. Neither was she.

They could do this.

He could do this.

The sound of a smoking gun rings.

Gunpowder replaced by blackened metal.

(Bellamy Scott D3M attacks Thread Gabel D8M; Spear)
wnPqZX6Kwdspear
(Shallow Cut on Stomach 4.0)

spear

[Cato]

I let out silent laugh of triumph as the fire poker pierces his hand. I don't even know his name, but he's the enemy, and every enemy must perish. They're all standing in my way of winning the game and making it home to my family, to that normal life I promised myself for so long. All it takes is a second to realize that I've made a mistake. By not showing my face, they're going after Bellamy. They're targeting my friend, and while it means I may be able to survive another day, Bellamy can't die right now. Not on my watch.

I grab my other fire poker, and I start running towards them so they can see me. Bellamy can't fight them alone, and I am here to help him. He needs me, and as much as I hate to say it, I need him. He took a fair beating from the mutts the day before, and right now the only thing I care about is getting us both through this day.

"You really had to pick a fight with Eights?" For a moment I'm completely caught off guard as I listen to them bicker for a moment. I didn't know who was coming, and it wasn't my fault. I didn't know it was them, but I am the one who started this. I am the one who needs to finish it. For Bellamy. For me. They must die if either of us are to win. "I couldn't see who it was, but they were coming towards us." It's all I can manage to say. It's all I can think about because he needs me. Bellamy needs me to be strong because I'm not ready to lose him. He better not leave me here.

But I'm ready to go. Ready to help out. Ready to do what I can to help Bellamy. He's my brother right now, and he's in need, and I want to call out to get them to leave him alone, but I can't do that. My personal wellbeing is my number one priority here. The hunger games aren't fun, and even though I've trained for them, the idea of knowing I'm losing friends is soul crushing. I take a deep breath, and I raise the fire poker ready to strike. This is for Bellamy, who's become like a brother to me. I need to keep him alive.

Liara attacks Thread | Spear

1w6tqw9hA2spear
3038 -- Block -- 0.0 damage

Accuracy

spear
3029 -- Shallow Cut on Stomach -- 4.0 damagespear·spear

[ryan]

He could barely breath. It was like he was being eviscerated all over again. A boy, full of anger, but he never talked about it. Admitted it to anyone else. because he did not want to become who his brother was in the games. He was all about keeping a calm mind, an open heart, and to be quite frank, he wanted to stay out of shit like this for as long as he could.

Of course, the game makers had different plans for him.

They wanted blood, and from the looks of the boy from three and himself, they were getting it. Down and dirty were they as they tried to focus on killing each other. Fleur did exactly what she could do, and thats how he knew that she did in fact, have his back. He could at least lean on her until the very end.

The last thing that he wanted was this to be his last breath though.

He pulled his spear out of the boy from three, who was able to get a clean slice onto threads stomach. He grimmaced for a moment before hearing just a little too much out of the boy from three. "I dont hold anything against you." Thread shook his head as he tried to make it very clear. "Just three in general. If it wasnt for three, my brother might have come out of this foresaken place. " Thread was quiet in his delivery, realizing that he was starting to become everything he never wanted to be.

However, now his life really was at stake here. "You sure do whine a lot for someone that is going to die here." Thread was annoyed, clearly. He had no plans on stopping here.

"Quit the bitchin, you are only going to make this worse on yourself." Thread had made it very clear that he was not going to stop. He wasnt going to let three or two get in his way at this point.

No way.

No how.

[Thread Gabel D8M attacks Bellamy Scott D3M | Fire Poker (spear)]
9QhbSfjsPEspear
[3113 -- Shallow Cut on Neck -- 4.0 damage
(Spear)]

spear

[fireflyz]

Whoever she had hit talked a lot. Fleur wondered how he even had the energy to do so (and assign her the wrong district, at that) when getting attacked by mutts for the past two days had left her breathless every time. Even though she hadn’t the slightest inkling who her opponents were, and they she, Thread seemed to know.

”If it weren’t for Three, my brother might have come out of this foresaken place,” he muttered, and Fleur fought the instinct to reach for his shoulder. This was not the time for comfort, not when others were so hellbent on making sure they didn’t get another moment of it. They would have to talk about it later.

She shivered as she felt for the curved knife she’d snagged from the cornucopia, joints aching with frost. Her aim wasn’t bad, although she was now down one blade and soon to be down another. She pressed her lips against the cool steel, eyeing the boy from Three’s tall silhouette.

”It doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do,” she called, voice half-caught in her throat, half lost in the rain. ”It only matters what you’re going to do now. And that’s not killing me or my friend.”

Fleur let it fly.

[fleur attacks bellamy with thrown hunting knife]
jSr475Zfxbthrowing knife
4 - sc on stomach

throwing knife

[Tom]

Blood drips red along blackened metal.

"I couldn't see who it was, but they were coming towards us." Pain blossoms from his wounds, burning with the same fire as gunpowder when a gun fires and a boy screams. His eyes follow Liara for a moment as he watches her move to strike. A silence fills him as he can feel his heart beating in his chest heavy. The world around him raining down. The rain reminding him of those clear kingdoms of teardrops along the glass. His fingers wanting to brush against them like Lucas' sunshine smile. The memories of dreaming he could reach out and touch the sun, but he's the moon. Quiet and always there with a sorrowful look. Never quite alright, but never quite horrible.

The spear of Liara strikes with a fire he's not used to. A star in her own way; glittering with the sky. A match for his moon, but stars always glow brighter. A cut forward onto Eight's stomach, blood dripping from the wound to mix with the rain water of the day. Flowing down the side of the hill into the flooded world below them. A shadow of themselves forming beneath this storm as thunder roars behind him; echoes of anger in his heart, but he bites down those thoughts.

"I don't hold anything against you." Eight shakes his head as if to prove a point. The wounds along his arm and hand would disagree with that statement, but he keeps his mouth shut for a little longer. "Just three in general. If it wasn't for three, my brother might have come out of this foresaken place." The truth sits with those words. He doesn't hold anything against him, except being from Three. Akira Sokatoa took this guy's brother and somehow, Three's been foresaken for that. Bellamy feels sick at hearing those words come from Eight, but a boy who doesn't want to listen won't here.

"You sure do whine a lot for someone that is going to die here." Memories of kids telling him the same. Telling him to hide away in his room or stay by the window where he belongs. A kid obsessed with his own father's death and mysteries of books; a freak in their eyes. Bellamy rolls his eyes at Eight. Hypocrisy isn't cute. Bellamy hated guys like Thread Gabel who wanted to be stuck in their own head; focus on the worst part of the world. A guy like Thread needed some sunshine in his life, but Bellamy wasn't going to help him. He's the moon. Dark and stuck in the black ocean of the night; glittering a path of his own. Helpful from time to time, but a nuisance to others. "Quit the bitchin, you are only going to make this worse on yourself."

Moving out of the way, slipping through the mud, the spear connects with his neck barely, creating more blood in the same wound as the day before. Pain blossoming up once more. "It doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do," The voice barely registers in his ears as he turns quickly to look for the girl. The rain's giving her cover from his eyes, but he's not complaining. This is the hunger games. Anything was possible in the arena. A downpour seemed less impressive than what he knew the capitol could do with their machines. After all, his father helped build some of them. "It only matters what you’re going to do now. And that’s not killing me or my friend." His eyes are quicker than his body, but he manages to get out of the way. Blood streaking across his stomach, but he bites down the pain. There was more pressing matter to attend to.

Like trying to stay alive and kill one of them.

"Holding nothing against me? Sure bud, whatever you want to tell yourself." His eyes look back to Eight as he holds the spear threateningly once more. "Maybe it's not Three's fault for what one guy did? Your brother could have just been better. Cry about it to someone who cares. Panem sure as hell doesn't." The rain patters around him as he continues. "Everything matters. Justifying yourself so you can kill me. Oh, a tribute nine years ago from the same district killed his brother. Oh you aren't going to kill us. Sure, I whine, but who doesn't. No one wants to die, but unfortunately, that's the truth here." A pause as he feels the pain blooming heavy. "Everyone else has to die, except one of us, so just say you want to kill me rather than blaming it on something nine years ago out of bother of our control."

Pushing forward, he can feel himself bleeding. The wound while superficial this time were heavy with the ache of the last few days or so. Bellamy Scott could talk for hours even while injured, but he didn't know how much of a smart mouth he could keep playing up. He's afraid of dying. He doesn't want to die. He wants to live and see the sunshine back home. Lucas deserves to never let his shine fall. "I wouldn't be so sure of yourselves. The only ones making this worse are you." The capitol was going to eat up his arguing. They loved the drama and he was making sure to give them all of it, even if he's afraid. Life or death. That's the world they were trapped in. Pushing forward, he looks to Liara, hoping she understands him. They needed to end this fast. He was hurt and there's only so much he can do. Bellamy Scott was dying and he didn't want to.

He barely made it out of the mutt fight yesterday.

Bellamy didn't want to be Eight's pathetic message of vengeance.

"The only one who is dying here is you, Eight."

Pushing forward, he swings with his heart. He didn't want to die. He was afraid. He had to keep fighting. Life or death; these questions bloom through his head. His eyes staring around the area looking for another way, but fighting was the only way. Liara had his back. He had to hope Liara wouldn't leave him. He had told her he wouldn't leave her. He couldn't leave her. Enough people had left them both. Bellamy wasn't going to let himself die here. There was more at stake than his own life. Liara needed him and he needed her.

It was the only way.

(Bellamy Scott D3M attacks Thread Gabel D8M; Spear)
huWWGoJ0lxspear
(Block)

Accuracy
spear
(Stabbed in Foot 8.0)

spear·spear

[Cato]

It's hard watching Bellamy trying so hard, and it's frustrating me. I need to step up and make this kill. I need to step up and help him more than I am right now. I can't have him leaving me. He promised to stay, and I need to make sure that's the case. I take a deep breath when I take a step back, and I listen to them going back and forth, and it's driving me insane. Thread is furious over something that happened nine years ago when Bellamy was eleven years old. He's made because a district three male killed his brother. Why hold it against Bellamy? He was eleven, and it wasn't him who made the kill.

I shake my head trying to take it all in. "Yes, a district three male killed your brother, but Bellamy was eleven years old when it happened." Not that it matters. Not that it'll ever matter. "You need to grow up and stop belly-aching over it." Maybe it's too harsh, but right now I don't care. All he's doing is whining over something that happened nine years ago and trying to use that as a reason as to why he should kill Bellamy. It doesn't make any sense to me, but I am just a dumb career from district two. What would I know?

I roll my eyes as I lift my fire poker once more. I am brave. I am strong. I more than capable of making this right. I am more than capable of keeping myself and Bellamy alive. I know he must die in order for me to win, but not now. Not yet. I'm not ready for him to leave me either. I've been alone trying to train, trying to prove what I'm capable of, and I found a friend in a place I never thought I would, and because of him, I realize I'm strong, but I am also weak.

"Come on, Bellamy, we can do this." I encourage him as he attacks, and I smile slightly, but I know that this moment is bittersweet. Someone has to die. One of us four isn't going to see tomorrow. I just want to make sure it's them and not us. I take another deep breath, and I hold the fire poker steady, and I hear a cannon through the cracks of thunder, and it only gives me more motivation. People are going to die, and I will do whatever it takes to save my friend, no, save my brother.

Liara attacks Thread | Spear

7R01N3QNDfspear
3050 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damagespear

[ryan]

Thread had felt the spear go right into his foot and he couldnt help but frown. The adrenaline was carrying him, that much he knew. How was he going to make it out of here? That was the real question. He was trying to survive in all of this warfare, but he was dying and he felt like his time was coming up.

Maybe death had already cut his thread.

He wasnt sure, and he wasnt going to think about it. All he could do was try to dodge and avoid the madness that had been going on around him. These two had proven that they will not go down with out and fight, and little did they know, Thread wouldnt have either. The girl from two speaks, "If you cant tell, its a little too late for any of that now isnt it?" Thread snickers through the pain, though he probably should have already lost consciousness at this point. "I quite honestly dont have anything to say to you." Thread dismisses the girl from two. "This is between be and the boy who just doesnt know how to shut up."

Thread had already made up his mind. He was going to either live or die here. There was no in between. "You done going on your tirades? Feel better?" Thread is as condescending as ever. "Even if this wasnt about revenge, one thing would still be clear." Thread had smirked through the pain, which quickly turned into a wince, which turned into a growl. "Only one of us will make it out of here alive." Thread pulled back his hand and thought about every time he had sat by while his brother had taken ever last bit of abuse that he was supposed to recieve.

"Its me..." Thread used one hand to point to himself.

Thread then jabs his fire poker forward. "Or its you."

[Thread Gabel D8M attacks Bellamy Scott D3M | Fire Poker (spear)]
FqWwRcGzSyspear
[3138 -- Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage
(Spear)]

spear

[fireflyz]

Fleur was not the type of person to outwardly express her annoyance at someone’s presence. Back home, she would don a glib smile until the person had left, and then she would allow her facial muscles to relax against her palm. There was no point in telling someone to go away in the arena, as following that advice could mean life or death.

But with the way Three was yammering on, Fleur was considering taking her chances.

”Okay, can everyone shut the fuck up?” she seethed, reaching behind her back to free her machete. ”We’ve all got our baggage. I don’t feel like unpacking any more of it. Thread, get behind me.”

This time, Fleur allowed herself to reach forward and tug at Thread’s sleeve. She cast him an almost pleading look before stepping forward to place herself between him and the other tributes. Up close, she could now make out the long red hair of Three’s partner, an expression on the girl’s face which Fleur couldn’t decide was grin or grimace. If she had any sense, she would drive her machete through the girl’s torso right now. End it quickly before the girl had time to react and before Fleur had time to regret her actions.

She stared at the girl for a moment longer before turning her gaze back to Three. She couldn’t risk it.

Fleur parted her lips for a moment, and then pinched them shut. She didn’t want to exchange any more words with these people.

[fleur attacks bellamy with machete (sword)]
4gYuCfpTwTsword
9.5 dmg

sword

[Cato]

My heart sinks because it's not enough. It's never enough. I'll never be a good career. I'll never be good enough at anything, and right now I can't even save my own friend. All I can do is stand here watching as they attack him over and over, and I watch as he nears death. I want to scream, but I can't. Nothing is leaving my lips. Nothing makes sense. My hands are shaking, and I can't even hold the fire poker steady. All I want to do is attack. All I care about is keeping Bellamy alive.

"Bellamy, you promised you wouldn't leave me." I whisper quietly unsure of whether anyone can hear. Not that it matters. I don't care if they do. I don't care if anyone hears. I'm losing a friend, a brother, and I can't even save him. "You promised me. You wouldn't leave." I whisper again, and I'm trying to run forward to save him, but I'm too slow. My legs aren't working properly or something, and by the time I reach him, I watch the sword slice across his chest.

"Bellamy, you promised. You promised you wouldn't leave me." I can feel tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, and I blink them away because I can't have them seeing me cry. Nobody needs to know the pain that's lingering within as I stand there watching my brother fall to the ground. "Bellamy. Come on Bellamy. You promised me." I know it's no good. I know it won't matter, yet I hope for a miracle that will never exist. So many people have left me before. So many people have held me back.

I put my fire poker away as a sign that I don't want to fight them anymore, and I grab a hold of Bellamy, and I pull him away. I don't even say anything else to them. They don't matter. They'll never matter to me, and I hope that soon they'll wind up dead because of what they've done here. I turn as I drag him away, and I reach a hand up wiping a single tear from my eyes, and when I feel I'm a safe distance, I stop. If anyone asks, I would tell them it's the rain. It got in my eyes.

I sit on the ground next to him. "Bellamy, you didn't leave me last night. You can't leave me now. Don't leave me now. Please don't leave me now. I can't handle it." I'm begging him to stay with me, and I know it's too late because I hear his cannon echo through the sky, and all I can do is rest my head on his chest as tears pour from my eyes. Bellamy, you promised you wouldn't leave me." And he's gone, and I can't do anything about it. I can't bring him back even if I tried. "Everyone always leaves me."

I wipe the tears from my eyes, and all I want to do is find them. I want to make them pay. I want to show them that their lives don't matter to me. They'll feel the pain, the agony. I want them to scream for mercy as I kill them. I would've made it quick before, but now it'll never happen. They'll feel every single bit of pain, and even that is too kind. Bellamy may be gone, but I promise, I won't rest until my heart stops, or I kill the ones who killed him.

Liara flees
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