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Hunger Games: The RPG :: Old Hunger Games (2012) :: The 60th Hunger Games :: Beehive :: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
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 AuthorTopic: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven] (Read 1,128 times)
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 Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Thread Started on Mar 17, 2012, 6:06pm »


[justify]
[image]


I walk through the tower as the sun rises, but instead of looking around, taking in everything the Gamemakers have created, the first thing I see is the last person I would ever want to meet here.

Avon Lightwood -- my district partner.

I squint away the light coming through the tower, but she's still there. I think back to when we talked before, in the dining hall, when I plopped down into a seat next to her and probably freaked her out with my question. Or maybe I just seemed like an idiot. Or awkward. I'm always awkward when talking to girls, especially when they're out to make me bleed.

"Will you kill me?"

"I hope not. Unless we meet in the arena. But then you might kill me."

And that was that. I never thought the day would come; I thought we'd somehow die separately, or one would die and the other would win and bring fame and glory and all that nonsense back to District One. How cruel the Gamemakers would be to have us meet, both being from the same place. Not that I'm attached, because I'm not. But she's one of the only people I've talked to in weeks. Everyone's so alone these Games, and I haven't seen anyone since the day I killed the odd, purple boy and took his purple axe. I miss the purple boy. I miss home, if only for the chance at normal human contact. I don't want to die like I am. I've always felt dead, of course, since they called my little brother's name out at the reaping and I stepped forward. Even before then. I've always been dead, and I don't think I'll ever live.

Walking forward, I don't take out my weapon. Or the purple boy's weapon. It's his, not mine. But he's gone, and I laid claims to it. That's how it works. Everyone, in the Games and out -- trampling on the weaker links to get to the top. I don't want anyone I've killed to be like that. I don't want to be evil, or emotionless. I may be dead already, but there's always room for remorse if you're an idiot like me. Stupid, idiot Career boy.

I'm not so straightforward this time around. "I, uh.. I.. "

This is a WIP because I have to go!

[/justify]
« Last Edit: Mar 19, 2012, 12:56am by Thundy »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #1 on Mar 18, 2012, 11:46pm »

[image]

[image]

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing


There is a dead girl's bracelet on my wrist.

She lay curled up on her side, listlessly flicking the odd charms and bobbles that seemed so attached to it. It was dirty, with Ink's blood, but otherwise pristine. The girl had probably kept it pristine, as the nicest thing she had in the arena. Now it was dirtied with dark rusty flecks of her blood. That blood was only there because Avon had attacked her. It didn't seem fair, that she wore it, instead of the teenager herself. Vacantly, she slipped the pick into her mouth again. It tasted of salt, and iron. It didn't taste like Riley anymore. Unless Riley counted as tasting like salt and iron. It would make sense, he had bled more than her this entire games probably. She was up two tokens, and down one more piece of her soul. Down one more notch on her card. Counting her role in her stepfather's death, she had killed three people. I'm going to hell, aren't I?

She wasn't afraid. Well, that afraid of hell. Maybe it would be more pleasurable than this. She was near death, she knew. One day, today, most likely, she would be the dead one, dying on the floor. but no one would sit with her, listen to her as she died. Why would anyone do anything for Avon Lightwood, the girl made of stone, who had always appeared so strong. Well that was a lie, wasn't it? Nothing more than a facade. She wasn't strong, nor the one who could protect anyone. She had only ever made things worse, stood by as her brothers and sisters were terrorized. "It doesn't matter what I say or do, it'll never be enough, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." She spit the pick out, the soft chord falling back around her still bare neck. It stuck to her dirty skin, the colours vibrant against the dirt. One could see where the colours were slightly faded from Riley strumming and squeezing it between his thumb and pointer finger.

They used to sit in the library together late at night, after making sure everyone else was in bed. It started as them waiting up for Nettie, to see if she would ever come home, and it turned from a silent vigil into something entirely different. Avon had always been pants at anything to do with the kitchen, so Riley would make two mugs of hot chocolate while she would light the fire. Then Riley would pull out his guitar, and sing for her. Well, not for her, never for her. He sang for the night, and for the stars. He'd laugh, saying, "Maybe they'll hear us, and come down to save us." And then Avon would allow a slip of a smile before wiping her slate clean, and continue reading. I should have smiled at him more often, and told him that I loved him. Now she would never spend another night in the library with Riley. And the only thing there was what she had told them all a few days ago that was hidden there. It was a piece of her for them to find, for them to know maybe, how much she really did love them.

She shifted then, a soft moan almost crawling from between her lips, too tired to bother with slipping out. Her leg still hurt from the burn, and her arm had turned into a silent throb , like a second heartbeat. Cain, for his part, her faithful snake, had coiled himself up around her head, so that she could have some comfort. Her plan was t slowly die. She didn't have water, and could feel the thirst, the way it itched at her throat like an annoying kitten. Cain would wait with her then, and maybe eat her body before it got cold. She'd like that. She didn't want the game makers to have her body, to mess with her eyes and put them in a mutt's too. No, it was better to belong to nature once again. "I want to be ashes, give me to the earth," she whispered quietly to the blanket. She couldn't even keep a promise to a dying girl, how much of a failure she was, was almost laughable.

Ink had told her to go out with a bang, or to bring her bracelet back to her brother. She'd fail miserably at both. How they all must hate me. All those families that she had stolen lives from, as easily as if she were collecting bugs for Chyba's collection. The reasons she was going to suffer when she died. But how could anyone suffer more than she already suffered now, she wondered about it, holding the thoughts across and away from her body like a net. She was caught in a web, and there would be no more sunlight, and no more old trees, or songs to be sung. There would be no more piano songs, and no more nights in the library. Avon Lightwood was living her last few hours. And I haven't even had my first kiss.

"I, uh.. I.. "

Carefully, she rolled around, turning her head, and smiling softly, seeing her District partner. How ironic, yet how fitting it was that the one to murder her would be Reyes himself. She hadn't wanted to kill him, he seemed nice enough. I didn't want to kill anybody. It was nice then that he would kill her. Revenge for the deaths of four would be taken by a boy from one. And then maybe he would go back home, and her siblings would love him for ending their sister's insane reign of terror. Or maybe they would despise him for taking her away from them. But that almost seemed like too much to hope for. She was such a robot after all, never knew how to show her affections. If only I had told them all, every day, how much I cherished them. If only she had been able to swim through the depths of her guilt, just to smile at them at least once or twice, and show them how much she cared for them. That was what she would regret in her last few moments.

Shutting her eyes, she whispered, "The boy from one, come to die." She would become the red queen once more. Slowly, she struggled to her feet, leaning on her voulge for support. Lamp, he was a lovely weapon. A cheshire of a grin slipped across her tired face like a good party trick, and she straightened to her full height. She was no amazon, but she wasn't completely short either. If he was offering, she would keep one promise at least. She would go down fighting for the girl who should have been permanent. She would go down fighting for Alphonse, the boy who would hate her if she didn't. She would go down fighting for Keela, too shy to fight herself. She would go down fighting for Edana, who hand't given up after York. For Riley, who couldn't bear it if she died without trying. For her two younger brothers, who deserved someone to look up to, and finally for Nettie. Who she would always love so much that it hurt, but would never love her.

"Will you kill me?"

And she swung her voulge, with as much force as she could muster, which wasn't much at all.

[Avon attacks Reyes with voulge ; stealth,]
[dice=200+13000]
Deep Gash on Left Thigh -- 8.0 damage + 1.0 damage (blades)



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« Last Edit: Mar 18, 2012, 11:48pm by Potato »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #2 on Mar 19, 2012, 1:00am »


[justify]

I can't. I can't do this. I'm horribly, terribly tired, and so is she, and so are the rest of the tributes, and my little brother, and this whole damned country. I could lift up the purple boy's axe towards her in a second, aim for the neck and let her head topple over like the purple boy's did, but I don't. My arms aren't tired, and neither are my legs. My blood tells me I'm afraid, but I'm too dead to be afraid. I let my head drop low, and stare at my blood-red socks and my blood-stained uniform and blood everywhere and I'm sure she hasn't come at me, hasn't killed me quite yet. I want my pulse to beat slower, my breathing to quiet, my heart to be a single moment from stopping completely. I want to be here, dying but not dead, to have my life flash through my eyes to bring some sort sense to my existence, and then I want my heart to change it's mind. I want to know everything, feel everything good and bad that I've done in my teeny tiny life. I want motivation. I want to know that what I fight for is worth fighting for, that maybe I won't go back to a complete hell of a home if I survive this. And even if I don't, if my throat is slit by this pretty girl in the next minute, I'll have remembered the good in my teeny tiny life.

But I don't have any life-changing revelations.

Small words creep towards me, and I can barely hear her over my own heart screaming at me to keep going, but I catch them. Hardly, but even being so quiet they shock me into action, which is to lift my head slowly away from the gaze I've locked onto my socks.

"The boy from one, come to die."

She hasn't moved yet, but she will. It's the nature of the Games, and sometimes in life too: kill or be killed. And I'm not a killer! Not not not not not not not not a killer. I'm innocent. I never meant to harm any of them. In the arena, at home. My kill count is forever frozen on zero, I like to think. But sometimes I contradict myself, and I think ripred, I'm a terrible person and I deserve to die and then my heart hurts and I shut myself up. And I don't think about it. I hate thinking; it's why I'm dead. An emotionless mutt, tossed around and controlled my entire life because apparently all the world wants me to bleed.

I shake my head, try to stop thinking. Words, tired, agonizing words pour out of my mouth.

”I'm already dead, darling.”

Now she moves, rushing towards me like a zombie, holding up her voulge in a death strike, aiming down towards me. I close my eyes – is this the end? – and the blade tears into my left leg as I scream. I've never been oblivious to pain, but I'm treated as if I am. Thank Ripred I don't cry, though. Tears don't come, but a cough echoes through my throat as I try to say something.

"I don't mean any harm, Avon."

And I take aim and swing.

[Attacks Avon -- Battleaxe]
[dice=200+11000]
11101 -- Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damage


[/justify]
[rand=5000765970301637544040767576673130035270326493424059779944500550686]
« Last Edit: Mar 19, 2012, 1:01am by Thundy »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #3 on Mar 19, 2012, 1:36am »

[image]

[image]

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing


Oh god, I can't even lie to him and tell him I don't want to hurt him. Because she does, oh god, she would do whatever it took. She would swim across the universe if she could get back to them. She wanted to stay, she didn't want to go to Hell. To live below them, and never see them again. To be stuck with Xavier. At least she could just beat his ass forever if she was stuck with him. That might be worth it then, all of this. Finally, she would get her revenge, her final revenge for all of them. To torture him for the rest of eternity would only be the sweetest treasure. but then again, that would count as paradise. Her hell would be being beaten by him. She better make it to heaven then, because in the most eloquent way to say this as possible, fuck that.

Best way to do this was to give herself to the Queen, to let her take over completely. She was like a drug addict, watching for nectar from the gods to rain down on her. She could never stand on her own two feet, always stuck crawling across the desert. She used to detest those that slipped away from life with cutting, drugs, and liqueur, never realizing that she was abusing her own head by slipping away and losing control of herself so very often. She was so addicted to hiding that she might as well be dead for all the good that she had given the world. She had given nothing, had taken nothing. She had left no mark. The only ones who would remember her were people who would probably hate her for leaving them behind. So she'd let the Queen take her, no pain, and no gain. Only a doorway into the unknown. Well she'd swing that door wide open, and kill a few bitches on the way out.

Gasping, she fell to one knee, and a low rumble started in her chest. After a moment, she realized it was laughter. She threw her head back and laughed, coughing, hand slipping on blood. She didn't want to win anymore. She anted to see them again. That's all. She just wanted to see their faces, one last time. She had forgotten, was forgetting what they looked like. And it was weird. Because they didn't all go away at once. First an arm. and then she forgot what colour Keela's eyes were. Then she forgot how long Riley's arms were, or what Edana's smile was like when she was actually happy. She couldn't remember the sound the wind had made in the trees, when she had sat in them with the blonde boy who had pale skin and a toothy grin. She forgot what Chyba's giggle sounded like. She knew she had a garden once. What she had grown in it, she didn't know. She knew they were special to her, but she couldn't remember one leaf or colour. she forgot what the sunlight slipping in between the glass in the afternoon felt like upon bare skin. And she forgot what it felt like for her to run. She forgot it all. She was nothing. She was just a girl. No, she was a bloody red queen.

”I'm already dead, darling.”

"Oh my dear, you re so very alive. Live," says the queen, standing up again, laughs gone for now. her eyes flash, and she licks the blood off of her hand. She is steel, unbreakable. If she is to die she will die as a queen will, before her army will. The Lightwoods will be safe from the Jabberwocky. because the Red Queen will protect them. She'd always been wrong, always hidden, and too weird. But here she will stand and protect. No one will ever touch them. She'd guard them in death too. Never let anyone touch them. Because no one will ever hurt them the way she is about to hurt them again. They will never go through that pain. She swears it quietly, still lying on the ground behind the red queen. She swears that they will all live happily. All of them, even stupid Riley, because if he tried anything, she'd haunt the hell out of that idiot.

"Oh Mr. Reyes. You will be the death of me. Did you have fun murdering this past week?"

Shaking her wrist with the bracelet on it, the Queen lunged once more.

[Avon attacks Reyes with voulge]
[dice=200+13000]
13152 -- Stabbed in Forearm -- 8.5 damage + 1.0 damage (blades)



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« Last Edit: Mar 19, 2012, 1:57am by Potato »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #4 on Mar 19, 2012, 2:07pm »


[justify]

But in my dreams began to creep
that old familiar tweet tweet tweet



A part of her has changed from when I spoke with her in the dining hall, but I can't tell if it's been through the days or it happened just now, instantaneously, as she came to the conclusion that she might die today. Or I might die today. We could all die today, really. But everyone's so tired, so maybe they don't realize. At this point, I honestly don't know.

This change that's come across her is odd – she's lost her mind, I think. She's not Avon, or maybe she is – I don't know her, really, except for the person I saw in training. She seemed sane then. Just like the rest of us, wanting to survive. Is this what the Games did to her? Laughing hysterically where she stands, holding onto her bloody weapon for dear life, looking like a murderer and a poor girl all at the same time.

"Oh my dear, you re so very alive. Live," she says, and then.. licks the blood from her hand, just like the purple boy did. Tasting it. I felt bad, just a moment ago, that it had come to this, but now the Games have made the decision easy. She's a mutt, too, I try to think. Not a girl, but a girl putting on a show, a cloud of insanity around her head to make her unfeeling, unseeing, inhuman. I would feel the deepest regret if only I recognized her, but the only recognizable thing about her is the face. She's lost limbs, been bathed in her own blood, torn at the flesh of other tributes, and she isn't the same.

Then, of course, who could possibly be sane here?

"Oh Mr. Reyes. You will be the death of me. Did you have fun murdering this past week?" she asks, flicking her wrist where a bracelet rests just as she steps forward with her voulge. A sharp pain stabs through my forearm, and I cry out again, gasping as more blood spurts in an ugly fashion out of my wound and onto the ground and my clothing. There's more blood on me than fabric, now. Blood boy, except not a lot of it is another tribute's. It's all my own, dried there over my past wounds and gushing out of the new ones scornfully.

I toss my head up and stare at her, angry at myself for allowing any sort of sentiment for this poor murderous girl to fly through my mind. It's what my parents tried to drill into me from the moment I was born – don't care about the people who want to make you suffer.

But in the end, I realized, I'll suffer anyways. No matter how hard I fight, how much of my own blood pours out of my wounds, how much they hate me, I don't want to be a murderer. I'll regret it before I ever learn to live with myself. I'm a horrible Career boy, all these regrets.

Or maybe I'm not a Career boy at all.

My voice, worn from the coughing and tainted with disgust, makes my next word a little difficult.

”Ha.”

And I rush towards her with my axe, praying to whatever god is out there that it can just be over for her.

[dice=200+11000]
11148 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage

[/justify]
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« Last Edit: Mar 19, 2012, 2:17pm by Thundy »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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Gee Willikers



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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #5 on Mar 19, 2012, 2:28pm »

[image]

[image]

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing


Good, he hates me. Her leg felt like it was burning again when he cut into her. He could cut into her all over, she wouldn't min. Happy Death Day, Avon Lightwood. She wondered if she was ready for it, she was so ready. She could feel her death upon her. Any second now, it was coming for her. And finally she could lie down in the dirt and die. And Reyes Moreno could kick dirt onto her, kick her dead body for all she cared. Because she deserved it all, every single little hate. And no one would know how sane she realy was. her eyes were still bright with intelligence, and her boy was broken but movable. She felt like she was so alive, but still so dead. Out of control, like an iceberg that was laying in wait, but it's ship never came for it. Well she was the iceberg that would never sink a ship, or sink anything or anyone ever again.

That is justice. She would relish the death blow. But still it hadn't come, the boy was being weak with her. Maybe he pitied her. She couldn't take that pity from him. The man who would kill her couldn't be a little boy anymore. He had to grow up and become so much more. He had to have a family, and children. Maybe a little golden retriever called Ducky and a house by the river with a picket fence. He was going to grow up and up and up, as big as a tree. He would live forever, be immortal. And Avon Lightwood would die today. That was what she wanted now though, to die. It seemed only fair to feel the chopping blow of an axe. But please just let it not be quick. She had to say her goodbyes still.

"I love you, Riley. Even though you're an idiot. Don't die."

I'm dying enough for everyone. Avon Lightwood had already died a thousand small deaths. This would only be the big one, the doorway to the other world. She woul give herself willingly, if it weren't for the fact that Riley would hate her if she didn't fight, after her promise.

"I'm sorry, I can't not fight. I promised them, you see. I can't have them hate me after all this."

[Avon attacks Reyes with harpoon]
[dice=200+3000]
-- Shallow Cut on Chest -- 4.0 damage



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« Last Edit: Mar 19, 2012, 6:49pm by Potato »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

Thundy
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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #6 on Mar 19, 2012, 2:48pm »


[justify]

But in my dreams began to creep
that old familiar tweet tweet tweet



The humanity comes back into her eyes, and it stabs me worse than the pain coming from my bleeding limbs. It's nice when she's a killer, when I can force the regret away just slightly, but behind the murder there's always something more. I should know. Stepping back away from her, I try not to hear the next words she says. At first, I think maybe she'll speak to me, but she's almost past done with me. No, she's preparing herself.

"I love you, Riley. Even though you're an idiot. Don't die." And I don't know who this Riley is, but the words tear at me again, knowing that back home she has some wonderful, marvelous family and people that she loves and she has hope, but I've never really loved and all I'm fighting for is the chance to one day know what it's like to be normal. It seems weak! She has this family, and she's clinging desperately to keep them, to go back to them outside of a coffin, living and breathing, and all I'm fighting for is the chance to breath a million times more, to repair myself and maybe find out what this living thing is all about.

When she speaks again, I understand. I hate so much that I understand. "I'm sorry, I can't not fight. I promised them, you see. I can't have them hate me after all this." I nod, standing there limply as she lunges at me with her other weapon, the one attached to her missing arm. It cuts into my chest, and I wonder if it'll go a bit farther and stab through my heart to end all this shame, but my body won't allow me to die. My heart pounds violently, my toes wiggle in my shoes, and the adrenaline pushes me forward. I swing my axe at her once more, hoping to Ripred that what I'm doing is worth it.

”How could anyone ever hate you?”

[Attacks Avon – battleaxe]
[dice=200+11000]
11089 -- Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage

[She's got .5 damage left D:]

[/justify]
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« Last Edit: Mar 19, 2012, 2:50pm by Thundy »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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Gee Willikers



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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #7 on Mar 19, 2012, 6:45pm »

[image]

[image]

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing


”How could anyone ever hate you?” That brings her to a stumbling halt, and makes her cock her head in confusion. How could anyone hate her? A better question might be how anyone could love her. how could anyone love a stone figure, the golem that she was. She had never told any of them that she loved them until a second ago when she said she loved her idiot brother. None of them knew that they were the only things in her life of import. She wished now that she had told them. But how could they hate her? Easy. Far too easy. "I stood by as my step father beat them. I didn't do anything about it." Ah yes, the fucking reason she had become a career in the first place, that hell man with the spirits of the devil. It was why she had always hated the influence of alcohol.

"I became a career to protect them, and look at me, I've failed."

She gestured to herself, and her ragged breathing. the way the world was beginning to spin already, she was in her death throes.

"I don't hate you though.

UGH WIP I'm SORRY I JUST CAN'T RIGHT NOW.


[Avon attacks Reyes with voulge]
[dice=200+13000]
13140 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage



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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #8 on Mar 20, 2012, 12:51am »


[justify]

But in my dreams began to creep
that old familiar tweet tweet tweet



She's so close to death now, but still fighting. Her pole sword swings up and for a terrible moment I think maybe it will chop my head right off, but it flies up and I lean back and it grazes my cheek some. Relief rushes through me, but it's fleeting. The pain comes back, both from the blood dripping from my torn flesh and the words that she forces upon me, words that my parents always told me to ignore. They'll try to make you feel bad, but don't think of it. It's just a tactic to make you slow down.

My parents are full of crap.

I mean, maybe it is a tactic. But God, if I die today or tomorrow or the day after, I'd like to have somebody to talk to. To explain all that I am and all that I never wanted to be, all that I never could be for the time I lost, and all that I was, or maybe I'd just talk. It doesn't have to mean anything. We've been alone for a week, with only murderers as our company as we kill, and when we die, despite the atrocious acts of bloodshed, we are a family because we all die together, except for one.

Oh.

OH.

I gasp, stumbling back in my cleats, and maybe I frighten her. But no, she keeps on talking, and perhaps she's too tired to react. I catch her words just barely, and I know for a fact that they're true, because I know now.

"I don't hate you though.” I nod quickly in my excitement, taking a step forward. And here she is, talking about her family, while the only family I've really got is in murder. Family means death, but to her it means something different. I wonder silently what it's like to have a normal family, to confide in those you care about and trust them completely, but I can't even imagine it. I shake my head, and I know the bitter truth: if I ever want to know what family is like, I'll have to tear this girl away from hers.

Closing my eyes, I adjust the grip I have on the handle of my axe. ”I know what you mean.”

And I aim for the kill.

[Attacks Avon – battleaxe]
[dice=200+11000]
11188 -- Deep Gash on Right Calf -- 8.0 damage


[/justify]
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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #9 on Mar 21, 2012, 1:47am »

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[image]

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing


That was it.

The hit that would kill her. She knew it was coming today, after dragging herself through the dirt and blood for so long, she'd have to stop wiggling along like a snake at some point. This was the day of her death. She took in a breath, sliding to her knees, body collapsing against the floor. Her head drooped, as she knelt there, as if bowing in submission. Lamp clattered to the ground, losing it's soul in the process. Cain, for his part seemed to know that this was the end. He curled up around her, as if to support her wilting body. He knew her well enough by now to know that she would not want to die laying on the ground. She would die a warrior's death if anything, a silent vigil to those passed before her, and that that still had the road to travel. Gasping, she slowly lifted her head to look up at the boy who was the death of her.

The boy from one, who had volunteered in his brother's place. If she had been given the choice, she would have volunteered. Even if she knew that no matter what she did she would end up here. Every time, she would do it. "I....I respected you for volunteering like that," she said conversationally, her vision already blurring as she waited for the claws of death. "You know, even if I knew that this is where I would end, that I would have to kill three people to get here, I would still have accepted my position as tribute. I got to protect them." She allowed the ghost of a smile to flit across her features, as elusive as a rare flower. She remembers for her birthday once, Keela specifically got her the bulb of a purple tulip, her favourite colour, to plant in her garden. Her sister had always been thoughtful like that, she would miss her. She would miss that, the small pieces of love that each of her siblings bartered and gave away carefully, so used to broken things instead.

"Purple is my favourite colour, and I never had to tell them that. I think it means they loved me. Is that love? When they just know things about you?" Avon thought that she had forgotten what love was, had ground it out of herself with the cutting of her hair. She had tried to in fact. She didn't want to feel anything anymore, she wanted to become a machine. Arobot that could protect and hurt, but not love. Not have her heart broken again. She was so afraid of loving someone, and then having them leave her, or have them taken away from her. Like her father was. It was why she had never told them, her sisters and brothers, how much she really adored them. "I thought that if I didn't show how much I loved them, how much I needed them, they wouldn't be taken away from me. I thought I could protect them from it."

Staring at the ground, she continued, "I've always been so afraid. I pretend to be brave, and do the things that they would be too afraid to, but I'm not. I'm just me, just Avon." She bit her lip then, "I'm not really making sense am I? My father was murdered by my uncle when I was only young. He then went on to abuse every single member of my family. But for me, I was too wrapped up in my father's writings to even notice. Until I walked in on him abusing Riley once." Her cheeks might have warmed with shame if it wasn't for the fact that her lifeblood was ebbing from her grasp, turning her skin pale. "I was so afraid....I...I was so young....and I didn't say anything. He told me to shut-up, so I did. But....but after that I cut all my hair off. He grabbed me by it- never again. And I began training. I'm a career so I could save them. I would become the sister I should have been all along, and take care of them."

Something wet slipped across her cheek, and Avon put her good hand to her face, pulling away to reveal a silvery drop at the end of her finger. In wonder, she looked up at Reyes, and smiled broadly. ".....I can't remember the last time this happened, this stuff came out of my eyes. It's kind of....freeing....but I feel like.....does this mean I'm broken?" She held out the hand with the tear on it, shaking with effort, and was glad to feel a broad hand wrap around her small one. She pulled it to her, and held it against her cheek, leaning into it, drowsiness calling to her. "Thanks-you.....thank-you Reyes." She wanted to slip away, just nip off to the ring again, like she used to do after clean ups with Riley. He would look at her with suspicion, and she would stare back, blank-faced. She'd tell him she was going out, and never say where. Because of rule one, never talk about fight club. But she couldn't slip away yet, there were things she had to tell Reyes, things to confess. It didn't matter that she barely knew him, these were things that needed saying.

"So I trained. I trained hard, I became addicted to it, I loved it. As my siblings suffered, as my sister was raped, and my brother beaten, I trained, using it to hide away. And then....and then....I...Keela....I...." She couldn't get home to them, that wasn't something that could be done ever again. She would never see their smiling faces, or even their frowning ones. What she wouldn't give to yell at Chyba once more to get out of her roses, or to sit with Edana, just to watch her slow beautiful smile. That smile could send off a thousand ships, it was so damned beautiful. the last thing she could do for them, was take their burden, and carry it with her to the after life. She could do it for them. No matter what she would become to the rest of the people of Panem, what they would say and think about her. It wouldn't matter, because she would be too dead to enjoy the 'fruits of her labor. "I killed my step-father, and I enjoyed it. I have taken four lives in my life, not three. And I enjoyed it. I love to hurt people. I love to kill."

She doubled over, gasping in pain as her body scattered of it's own accord. She squeezed Reyes hand, maybe too tight in the spasm, the pain ricocheting throughout her body. "I had roses. A beautiful rose garden. They were the only things I allowed myself to say that I really loved. You should go see them. Please, say you will, oh do. See them for me, and tell me about them, tell me about them later." She whimpered then, as her legs hurt her from the kneeling, but she was too tired, so heavy, too tired to move. Oh lord, if only moving didn't hurt she would stand up and run home to them, to see them all, just once more. Oh please, just once more, she wanted t see them, to push Riely's hair back from his forehead, to hear Keela play the piano one more time, to sit in their tree, Alphonse and her, together again. He knew about her, better than she even knew about herself. He knew she was strong, but he also knew she was so weak that anything that became too big would break her into little pieces. It had, it had shattered her.

"Reyes?" she asked weakly, head still bent. "You....you don't have to do this for me but...I need you.....Ink, she gave me this bracelet....it needs to get to her brother, her brother, her brother....Luke. Luke he needs it....and my...my this...please. Give Riley back his pick. He can't play without it....he needs it to be lucky....I want him to be lucky. I.....I.... he needs it. The voulge....the voulge is named Lamp....she's a good girl. Very good. She has blood on her hands, she will be of use to you, use her to win, to go home. And Cain....this snake, this fucking snake that took my hand. Take care of him for as long as you can. His name is Cain....heh.....he...heh....gedit? After the first murderer in that bible book. Cut a piece from my body to give to him to keep him fed, or he gets fed. Wait till I'm dead though...that'd be nice...nice of you. I'm a demon though...you don't have to be nice to me."

With great care, she let go of Reyes' hand, and took the bracelet off, and then the pick. She didn't want to let it go. She wanted to keep it, but Riley would need it to write music, and to keep on living. So she carefully took it off and gave it to Reyes, dropping both into his hands. "I've never had my first kiss.....is that sad?" She took his hand again, and held it in her own, needing to feel the warmth again, even as holding her head up became too much. She stabbed the harpoon into the ground, "Good thing I'm dying now, I was gonna miss that hand." But Riley would have fixed it all up for her, like he always did before.

She used to come home after long nights at Fight Club, sometimes at to am. She would be bloody and bruised, once sh even came home with a broken finger. But every time as she crashed through the front door, halfway between blood lust and a daze, he would lift her up in those long gangly arms and carry her to the library. He always seemed to know when she would be home as well because there was always a hot bowl of water and tea waiting for her in the library. Then he'd sit her down on an armchair, and carefully clean her cuts and bruises, and then she'd say that she could do it himself, and he'd tell her that it was okay, he knew that. But sometimes it was nice to have someone take care of you. Then she'd be so tired that she'd fall asleep in that big old chair as Riley bandaged her, and in the mornings, she would always wake up carefully slipped between her covers. That was the way big brothers should be, and that was the way Riley Lightwood had always been. And when he needed a good punching in the face, she was there to give it to him.

"...mmm..." she shook herself, and looked at her killer. There were still a few more things to tell him. Mustering all her strength she rose up, and spoke to him, in that no nonsense voice that she had always been so good at. "Reyes, you better go home and find yourself a girl to love you and live in your grand new house with. I don't care if there is no picket fence, you build one. And then get a dog, and grow roses and a family. And then when you are old and gray, die. But please don't die young. I'll be watching for you, so if you die, know that I will personally punch you in the face as your welcome to the afterlife. You.....hear...me?" Her breathing became more ragged, and she gripped Reyes hand through another spasm. "That goes for you too, Riley Kalen Lightwood. You know how much my punches hurt."

"I love you all. I did this for you. I die for you. Remember that, and don't let me die in vain. All of you idiots glued to your televisions. Don't let my death be in vain.....not in vain....I love you.....I love you so much....I'm not a robot or a golem...or a stone...I'm a girl. I'm a girl, and I loved. Remember.....never doubt I loved.....I loved...I loved......."

Avon Lightwood's head fell forward, and she died on her knees, with the warmth of a hand around her own.

Take care of my roses.

- - -

"Ri, what're you doin?"

"Cleaning you up, shh, Av, rest. It's okay."

He carried Avon into the library, and she glanced wearily at the shelf where her diary was hiden. The one she had begun with the death of her father, that held every single thing about him that she learned from his notes, and it held every single thought she held right up into going into the games. It held little love notes she had written to each family member, filled with remembrances from throughout the years of things she loved about them. It held her dreams, and the songs she had written. It held everything about Avon Lightwood that she never shared with anyone, it held everything. It was disguised as a dictionary, well hidden in a hollowed out one. Maybe one day they'd find it. But today was not the day to pull it out and show them. She flinched away as Riley put a hot towel to a bleeding cut on her forehead.

"Ow!"

"Shush love, it'll sting a bit, but then it'll feel better, you'll see."

That's what he always said. "That's what you always say."

"Yeah."

"mmmmm." Avon stared into the flames as he put a band aid on her forehead, ad she pushed her head farther into the armchair, as if she were a small child struggling to get away from cough syrup. "Ri, are you scared of dying?" A silly question, she thought. All those cuts along his body, and he couldn't slip the razor across his wrist. but was it fear, or a sense of duty?

"Don't be scared Avon, once you're there, you'll forget why you're afraid."

"Oh......well....can you still, can you sing for me? Just once more?"

"Sure he can, Av, and I'll play the piano." Keela slipped into the room then. She wasn't supposed to know about sneaking out to fight. But Avon couldn't find herself caring, as she smiled at her younger sister with such tenderness that it almost hurt. She felt a sense of happiness somewhere, knowing that she had taken something, done something for them, she couldn't recall it now. But she knew that maybe now Riley could be a little happier, without that burden on him. She had taken it for him, and then dumped it. She felt all light, like the helium balloon that she had once gotten fro Chyba. He had cried when it slipped away into the sky when he accidentally let go. Rileys face was wet. So was Keela's. All their faces were wet as they stared at her and she sunk further into the arm chair. She didn't want them to be wet anymore. They were supposed to be happy now. They shouldn't ever be sad again.

"I'd like that...read it...when I'm gone, read my journal." She shut her eyes as Riley's soft voice mixed with guitar and piano spread through the library. And then Avon sunk further into the armchair, no, she floated up and away, out of it, gone, sploosh. Out of the library, and into another room. Alphonse. Alphonse, oh her dear, dear boy. "Don't forget me, but find someone who can beat you," she whispered into his ear and then drifted off again, up and out the window. She walked through her rose garden again. They looked lovely. Her roses, her roses that walked, and those that grew, she would miss them both. All of her loved items and people. And she had been loved back, she knew that now, was happy for it. She just wished that she could tell them all, that she had loved them so much that she could hardly bear the weight of her love for them.

She sighed in pleasure as her feet touched ground, and she walked up to the big old tree that rested on the line between the two properties. It was their tree, always had been, always would. She had many happy memories spent under it, many days spent in happiness climbing it. And even the days when sadness took them, this tree had bore their weight. She loved it as a family member. So maybe that's why she lay her hand against it now, and wasn't surprised to see it sink into the old bark. She leaned further in, resting her weight fully against the tree. Until she was slipping into it fully, and light shed it's leaves around her. The sky was made of light, and all around her was that tall grass that she loved to run through. her hands were whole again, and she could feel each toe wiggle. Her branches felt old, but tall and powerful.

She reached up into the sky, happiness taking her form out and up and she felt stretched but complete and comfortable. It was night, but it was day, and as she stood there, she felt likened t a tree, and she could feel the spot where Avon and Alphonse had carved their names into her bark. She was a girl, no she was a tree. An eighteen year old tree that was hundreds of years old. She felt happy, she laughed, she was sad, she wept, leaves twisting in the wind. she watched the two houses in the warm afternoon sun, and saw them go in and out. She watched the two houses in the night and watched them sleep. She watched the houses being built, and watched young children playing under her spreading branches. She watched a boy and girl meet, and saw a father and his children lounge. She lived it and ran through the tall grasses, ripples of laughter trailing after her as she pushed herself to run faster and faster, until she grew wings and flew, branches waving with her joy.

Avon Lightwood was infinite.



[image]


{ooc: Much thanks to South for all her advice and guidance, to Aya for answering my endless questions, and to all my supporters that donated their funds, in some cases every penny to get Avon here. I love you all so much, and cannot believe I get to rp with such amazing people every day, you complete me. Thank-you for being so spectacular to my fellow Rpers in these games, and may the odds be ever in your favour}
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Thundy
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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #10 on Mar 26, 2012, 6:11pm »


[justify]

Said it all along, we'll be dead and gone
It's closer than you read, so batter up, kid-
Everything, everything is caving in



My district partner falls, and the items in her grasp fall with her. Her head hangs low for a moment as if to admit defeat, but something about her won't allow it. It's the same reason I knew neither of us would turn around and flee. She's a fighter, and we're both murderers at this point. And it's the final four! No, final three. The sound of the cannon tore through the air earlier, sounding so close even though it probably isn't. I've only seen Avon today; all of the others seem worlds away from us. But we're too close to the end to not fight. Even if we refused, the Gamemakers would find some way to force us together, or would kill one via muttations. And who am I kidding? We may not be bloodthirsty, but we're not about to get this far without a fight. It had to end like this. For me, at least.

The fight that she possesses won't let her give up. She gasps, lifts her chin up and meets my gaze. Panic hits me like a brick. I've killed her! She's dying! This girl. She's fought so hard to get back to her family. Her family! She has a family! And spunk. Here she is, holding her head up, not strong in her state but never weak. Who could see her as weak? Tired, maybe. Chewed up and spit out by the Capitol, yes, but weak? Not a chance.

What have I done?

"I....I respected you for volunteering like that," she says, and I know I should be focused on her every word, that she's dying and I should be entirely respectful, but my thoughts drift back to my home. To Ezen, whose name was called out, who dropped to the ground the moment he heard his name, crying and squealing at the top of his lungs that he couldn't die, he didn't want to suffer like that. I was selfish. If I could have, I would have covered my ears to drown out the sounds of his screams, would have let the Peacekeepers lift his frail body off of the concrete and towards the stage. I shouldn't earn respect from that; I feel disgusting. I had thought, if only for a minute, that I could live! I could stay home and let my little brother die! And how ironic is that? To stay in a home where the kids tend to kill each other, opting out of the real competition where kids are forced to kill each other? Ripred, my life is so fucked.

And she starts again. "You know, even if I knew that this is where I would end, that I would have to kill three people to get here, I would still have accepted my position as tribute. I got to protect them." There's a part of me that wants her to stop talking, stop making me feel like a living person with all of these thoughts of home, but then there's a part of me that doesn't. If this is what normal human contact is like, then I should cling to it. I'll face my other opponent soon -- who is the lesser of two evils, Kiara Mason or Julian Bryze? -- and we won't hesitate to claw and make the other bleed. That's the worst part! I've come so far, fought so hard, and still I could die at the hands of emotionless prick who will stomp all over my very existence for the glory. Ripred, I hate that word.

Forced to, you could shake it
Or you could write it off



I feel so silent next to her, but I'd hate to interrupt somebody's dying words. I keep my mouth shut as she continues. "Purple is my favorite color, and I never had to tell them that. I think it means they loved me. Is that love? When they just know things about you?" I nod, but really I don't know. I decided this days ago, that I've never felt much love. During my childhood, perhaps, before the training, I loved my parents. But it had to be more so a form of attachment that all kids feel towards the people that keep them alive. It doesn't matter. Love doesn't count if you grow to hate them in the end. And then there's my brother. I did volunteer for him, but not out of some everlasting brotherly love. I was tired of the screaming, of his pain and worry. I probably couldn't live with myself if I let him die like that.

So I nod down at her, and realize what I hold in right hand: the purple axe that came from the odd boy. I show it to her for a moment, then realize that it's covered in her blood and set it behind me. I pick up her voulge, which fell on the ground along with her other things. "I thought that if I didn't show how much I loved them, how much I needed them, they wouldn't be taken away from me. I thought I could protect them from it." And now I'm sure that I don't understand at all, because I've only been out to protect myself from harm. It's why I'm so awkward with girls, and why I can't open my mouth and say anything to her as she dies. I don't know what to say, and even if I did.. it would feel wrong. I nod, and smile as warmly as I can, but there's nothing I can say or do to change the fact that she's dying and I killed her.

She stares at the ground now, as if she's ashamed, and continues. It occurs to me that I may be one of the only people who she's ever talked to like this, but then I know that it's not just me. The entire country is hearing her story now. "I've always been so afraid. I pretend to be brave, and do the things that they would be too afraid to, but I'm not. I'm just me, just Avon." And maybe I don't know who this girl is or what kind of person she tries to be or what her family is like, but I understand playing pretend. I get it, sort of. Her reasons are different than mine, of course. As she pretends for her family, I pretend for the little buggers that want me to die.

"I'm not really making sense am I? My father was murdered by my uncle when I was only young. He then went on to abuse every single member of my family. But for me, I was too wrapped up in my father's writings to even notice. Until I walked in on him abusing Riley once."

My eyes become wide at the mention of abuse. I try not to think of it. Such pain for a dead boy to comprehend. The only abuse I know is from my siblings, emotional as they tear me down and physical as they slice up my arms and legs and try to make me bleed. I open my mouth, try to say “I'm sorry” but nothing comes out. I shouldn't interrupt, anyways. This is her time.

Said it all along, we'll be dead and gone
It's closer than you read, so batter up, kid-
Everyone, everyone is closing in



"I was so afraid....I...I was so young....and I didn't say anything. He told me to shut-up, so I did. But....but after that I cut all my hair off. He grabbed me by it- never again. And I began training. I'm a career so I could save them. I would become the sister I should have been all along, and take care of them," she says, and a moment later I realize there are tears slipping from her eyes and down her cheeks. She's strong, and the thought is like a stab to the gut. I did this. I did this. My face contorts as I close my eyes and force the regret away, but it stands firmly where it should be. Something behind her breathing tells me she's smiling, so I lift my eyelids again and stare down at her. ".....I can't remember the last time this happened, this stuff came out of my eyes. It's kind of....freeing....but I feel like.....does this mean I'm broken?" She holds her hand out, and I take it. She's cold, and her pulse is much slower than I thought it would. All this spirit about her, and she's still losing blood! I'll never be this strong, not a day in my life, even if I do survive through tomorrow.

My eyes have long since started watering, and I don't care. I'm done feigning whatever strength the cameras want to see. "Thanks-you.....thank-you Reyes." For what? I wonder. I'm her killer. If not for me, she could go on to win. But it's too late, and perhaps she's realized that. To die with scorn is to die alone, and it would be such a waste if she did.

I try to smile, but I can't. Instead, I nod again (I'll never talk again! Just all this nodding!) and I actually do manage to bring a word or two for her to hear. ”No. No, you're strong.” But I can feel her pulse slowly fading in her fingers. I could say ”Not for long” but that would be wrong of me, so I simply do my best to pull the corners of my lips up into something warm and let her continue. There's no time for interruptions.

"So I trained. I trained hard, I became addicted to it, I loved it. As my siblings suffered, as my sister was raped, and my brother beaten, I trained, using it to hide away. And then....and then....I...Keela....I...." I shake my head vigorously, my hair tossing across my eyes. I shut the thought away. She's torturing me, speaking like this. She cuts off in the end, and I won't ever know what she was going to say unless I win, but I don't press her. As difficult as it all is to hear, there's a reason she couldn't say the words aloud. We're similar in all these ways, both of us training to run from home. It's a shame we didn't see each other back home – we could have been friends. Funny – I've thought that about each of the people I've killed. We could have been friends. All this murder is so normal to me! And that's what makes me so.. human. If I were any other Career in Panem, I would not be struggling my way to the surface. I would have hidden away all of this shame and heartbreak and I would be an empty shell, deflecting all suffering and only dealing it out.

Forced to, you could shake it
Or you could write it off



But that's not me.

“I killed my step-father, and I enjoyed it. I have taken four lives in my life, not three. And I enjoyed it. I love to hurt people. I love to kill."

She could be any other Career too, an empty shell with a spiked shield, but I've been standing with her. I know otherwise. My parents never used to show me the emotional reaction videos as a tribute died. I would see the past Careers, the strong – but they're not so strong, not nearly as strong as Avon! Those poor brutes, they won't ever understand – but I would never see a fallen tribute with tears streaming down their faces. And if I did, my parents would condition me to think what they thought. That those tears were really weak, that those emotions were the reason they died. I'm glad I don't believe them now. It's all so painful, so real, but I don't want to die numb. I can't. And if I don't die, I can continue! I can continue this pain and suffering and then I can heal, and then I can suffer some more, and it will be horrible, glorious pain because it'll be so different and wonderful and ahh! I live to suffer now.

I jump slightly as Avon gasps in pain, squeezing my hand as her body rocks itself violently and slowly to sleep. "I had roses. A beautiful rose garden. They were the only things I allowed myself to say that I really loved. You should go see them. Please, say you will, oh do. See them for me, and tell me about them, tell me about them later." My tears stop, and they're replaced by a smile so wide I don't know what to do with it. Roses! I bet they're beautiful. I'll live, and I'll see them, because I have to. She wants me to go see them, and I owe this dying girl everything, her life and her family and her millions of future heartbeats, and the least I can do for her is win and visit her roses.

I pray to Ripred they haven't shrivelled up and died, too. But then, I think, they won't be. It's her garden, so it must be strong. The sound of her whimper almost wipes the smile off of my face, but it's beautiful! All this pain. I squeeze her hand to comfort her, and her next words are quieter, more rushed. She's in a hurry to spew out everything that needs to be said before her pulse stops. "Reyes? You....you don't have to do this for me but...I need you.....Ink, she gave me this bracelet....it needs to get to her brother, her brother, her brother....Luke. Luke he needs it....and my...my this...please. Give Riley back his pick. He can't play without it....he needs it to be lucky....I want him to be lucky. I.....I.... he needs it. The voulge....the voulge is named Lamp....she's a good girl. Very good. She has blood on her hands, she will be of use to you, use her to win, to go home. And Cain....this snake, this fucking snake that took my hand. Take care of him for as long as you can. His name is Cain....heh.....he...heh....gedit? After the first murderer in that bible book. Cut a piece from my body to give to him to keep him fed, or he gets fed. Wait till I'm dead though...that'd be nice...nice of you. I'm a demon though...you don't have to be nice to me."

I will not go quietly
I will not be silenced



I stare down at the snake that's curled around her, and then at the snake ring wrapped around my middle finger. She lets go of my hand and hands me the tokens, and I stuff them into my bag and immediately take hold of her hand again. I don't say anything, not yet. There's no time.

"I've never had my first kiss.....is that sad?" And for some reason this is so terribly funny, and I don't know why, but I burst out laughing. She probably thinks I'm so impolite, but perhaps not. Perhaps she wants to hear somebody laugh for the last time. I shake my head again with a small smile.

"Good thing I'm dying now, I was gonna miss that hand.”

”No, no no no. It's not a good thing that you're dying!” I want to tell her, but that would be the rudest interruption, and it's wrong. I couldn't say such a thing. With her death, I live. That's how it works! Life, life, life! So I don't say anything, any suddenly her power is back – whatever power she has left – and I hang on to every word. "Reyes, you better go home and find yourself a girl to love you and live in your grand new house with. I don't care if there is no picket fence, you build one. And then get a dog, and grow roses and a family. And then when you are old and gray, die. But please don't die young. I'll be watching for you, so if you die, know that I will personally punch you in the face as your welcome to the afterlife. You.....hear...me?" I drown out her mention of a family member, and for the first time I think of what victory will be like. I don't know if I'll heal from this, or if I'll just be bathing in all of this pain until the day I die, or if I'll have somebody love me or if I'll ever love or if I'll have a dog – what would I name a dog? – and if I'll build a picket fence – how do you build a picket fence? – and all that I really know about my future is that it's painful and hopeful and wonderful all at the same time, and I want it to exist. I want to exist a week from now. I drown out the rest of her words and think of the future in all of its magnificence, of love and happiness and darkess and pain and reckless chances and everything I never had.

As Avon Lightwood's pulse slows to a dead halt, I come alive.

I will not! I won't go quiet!
Oh tell me that you won't, you won't go



[/justify]
« Last Edit: Mar 26, 2012, 6:54pm by Thundy »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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 Re: Like Old Friends [Reyes/Avon ~ Day Seven]
« Reply #11 on Mar 26, 2012, 6:12pm »

This is a filler post because I didn't have anywhere to put this information without ruining my previous one, but:

- He takes her stuff
- He gathers some honey in his empty water jug
- He flees to go to the Sands!
« Last Edit: Mar 26, 2012, 6:51pm by Thundy »Link to Post - Back to Top  IP: Logged

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