playtime // tots vs. all bite, no bark day 3

Energy sapped from his limbs, Finnagan Davies was dead in all ways, but the one that mattered. Bone aching pain that echoed throughout his hands and body. Arms torn asunder by the shadow of the lake. Broken pieces left behind as Finn could feel his fight continue through his own mind. There's no reason he should be upset. Dying wasn't in his aesthetic. No one gets past Finnagan fucking Davies. Not even a shadow creature that'd been made to sound like him. Emptiness fills his guts as he leans back, eyes towards the sky as they've found a place to rest for the night. A lake long gone from his memory. A boat left onshore.

Anika didn't say much after her offer to help him. There's a comfortable silence that's got an edge to it between them. Finnagan knew they wouldn't be friends. Made that promise to the gamemakers himself. Friends get kids killed here. Anika Khan was another means to an end. When the time was right, he'd throw her away like the unwanted toys of a child. A grimace fills his face as he thinks of the memories bleeding through. The boy who desperately wanted to be friends with Finnagan despite all the signs of dislike. Pressure upon pressure boiling over into nothingness. A sigh falls from his lips as Anika offers to take watch. Normally, he'd fight and tell her he could stay up, but the aches in his body scream whenever he tries to move. Bandaged up and stitched back together, he can feel the burn in every sudden movement.

Anthem comes in waves of relief and annoyance. The faces are two people he didn't really know, but had understood their names. Bowers and Fel. Tributes with connections to others. Unlike his own connection, they'd been relatively newer in comparison. Someone must've targeted them first. His head starts to put together the idea of someone targeting families of the past. No one would know of his own connection. Who even cared about the Second Games anyways. Definitely not him. A laughable thought as he remembers the way grandparents would tell stories of the Jett Davies. A boy long dead to the world.

The face drift away into the endless void of night. The moon glittering above as his throat tenses at the sight. A desire to howl burning through, but he's unable to let it ripple out of fear for being caught. The smells of the arena were only getting stronger and stronger by the day. Hair had already been growing around his cheeks that day. The new feeling of hunting and feeding filling his thoughts. None of them natural, but survivable. Eyes turning through the night, he finally lets them close into the emptiness of his own head. The exhaustion of no sleep taking over as he lets his breath even out. The last thing in his eyes being the wide moon itself, glittering prettily above.

Morning comes with the rough pressure of a foot against his side. The ache setting in as he can hear Anika's voice. "Wake up, dude," The groan drips from his lips with an ichor of frustration as Anika continues. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his palm, he can't help the ache and the new feeling of sharpness that's almost poked his eye out on accident. "We need to get going." Ripred, can't he just sleep another fucking hour. Sighing, he gets up a bit cranky as he stretches out the aches of his body. The pain turning to a large dull of his veins. The blood having soaked through the bandages along his arms and chest. A laughable excuse of first aid, but it's all they'd had left. A ripple of his own ease opening up as he speaks to Anika.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm up. Fuck."

Packing up everything, he shoulders the pack onto his back. The area changes around him as they march to the beat of a new drum. The headstones of graves fill his eyes for as far as he can see. Names etched in lightly that seem to fade over and over again. The chill running down his spine at the sight. Eyes focusing on the thousands of them that seem to sprawl along an endless sea of grass and stone. His eyes glance to names that're too familiar. Past tributes maybe? He's not certain of it, but there's a name that looks eerily similar to one of the damn Laws kids in Twelve. Anika's throwing out a joke before he can even comment.

"Think they've got anyone actually buried down there?" The bodies down there if they had weren't natural. Finn's stood away at some of the tributes in the past's funerals. Not because he wanted to mourn, but because there's always some activity hiding nearby. People wanting to take advantage of the sorrow to do whatever fucking crime they'd been stirring up in Twelve. Eyes focusing on the graves, he listens to Anika's joking attitude again. "Maybe if we had a shovel we could find out." The laugh feels haunted in a way, but he chuckles at her slightly before speaking once more.

"Let's try and not find out-"

Words being cut off by the feeling of a sharpness coming too close, his throat bleeding red as blood falls from it. Hands instantly going up to catch what he can. Eyes widening in fear of the pain. Vital spot already being known, he clutches his neck harshly. Not through the throat. Ripred, he better have still got a fucking throat. The cough rings out with blood as he lets himself feel the burning white hot of pain. Someone or something had gotten the jump on him. Finn could feel the fear bubbling in at the edges of his thoughts, but also the roiling anger. The anger at himself and the lack of caution he's shown. There's only so many times he can take getting dragged through the metaphorical mud. Eyes blazing with anger as he can feel himself wanting to cuss out a storm.

The scream from Anika is worrying as he hears it echoing to his side. The searing pain of knowing he's letting her get hurt. It's apart of the deal, but they weren't meant to both die. It was going to be her before him. An annoying pain flares to life as he looks over to see the finger laying upon the ground. Annika's own finger. There's a huff of air that's desperate to come out in satisfaction knowing he's not the only one who's been fucked up, but he lets his eyes focus on the matter at hand.

No one picks a fight with him and gets away with it. In Twelve, they'd get a fucking baseball bat to the fucking chest. Let the bones break in the righteous pain people deserved. Eyes going bright and dark at the same time, he notices the beasts before him. The shock filters through his system as if he didn't know the capitol was capable of such awful creations. Finn should've known. The dolls with glowing red eyes and shards of broken dolls in their hands. Blood dripping from the shard. His own blood, the smell was evident enough. Anika is angry, the smell of adrenaline and cortisol filling his senses.

"Are you kidding me? Toys? For Ripred's sake!" Always the fucking toys. A horror movie in the making. The capitol would get a shit load of money for this in whatever fucking movie they'd make based on this games. Jump fucking scares aplenty. "Finn, help me kill these things!" Ripred, as long as they got his fucking good side he didn't give a shit. He'll go to the premiere even once he's won this fucking game. An angry huff from his nostrils is all he gives as he doesn't reach for his crossbow attached at his hip. He really should find a fucking better place for it. The claws would have to do.

"F-Fuck. Go-Got my throat. Fu-Fucking Toys."

A voice hoarse with pain as he speaks. Anger filling his veins. Blood dripping ichor black as if the shadow itself were still corrupting his blood. None of this mattered to him. He wasn't going to let some fucking dolls rip him apart like the shadow the day before. The gamemakers really wanted to hurt him and Anika. Twelve wasn't in their best interest this games year. Claws extended in tension as the hairs on his chest and cheeks have gotten thicker and thicker. Fur covers in an unnatural way. He's not supposed to be this hairy until at least like thirty. Anger boils over as he jumps forward with all the anger of the day before and now in him.

"Fucking toys. Fucking everything."

Scratching out with the smell of blood and stone, he can smell death upon the horizon.

"No more games kids. Time to throw you out like you fucking deserve bitches.

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lyrics: "Nightmares Never End" by JT Machinima
table by kaplan

filler because Kap doesn’t feel well, sorry!
-Anika yells in pain again
-Anika starts swearing… a lot

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lyrics: "Nightmares Never End" by JT Machinima

Filler because dnd tonight! Will fill in later!

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lyrics: "Nightmares Never End" by JT Machinima
table by kaplan