Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4

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shrimp
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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 24, 2010 21:24:14 GMT -5

Quote

Post by shrimp on Oct 24, 2010 21:24:14 GMT -5

will atlas
~My bio's located here~

Don't look up, just let them think
There's no place else you'd rather be

Sometimes, I wished that I was invisible. In that case, people wouldn't come up and bother me. I'd be able to go wherever I want, whenever I wanted. I'd be able to do anything. But since there is no such thing as "invisible spray", I was forced to simply make myself disappear in the catacombs of District 8. Nobody paid any attention to me. I strayed away from small circles - getting noticed in the district wouldn't have been the best thing to happen to you.

The people who came into work with black eyes and broken bones - they were the ones who got noticed. So I had made it a point to stay within the shadows. My slight slouch became more prominent, causing me to look shorter than normal. I blended into the background. And for a while, that worked, until I met Senalia Livery.

Sometimes, the company that you decide to affiliate yourself with is the most noticeable trait of all.

I promised myself that I wouldn't think about them. My life in District 8 is over. There's almost no doubt in my mind that I'm going to die. And then my body will be sent back to the polluted streets of the District to be buried in a coffin six-feet underground. I never liked the idea of that. If anything, I would have preferred to have my body burnt into ashes. But the Capitol always has a certain way of going about things, and choice of burial isn't one of them.

But I'm getting off topic. Thinking about them... It just makes my heart beat more painfully than before. I can't believe.. That I'm just going to leave them there all by myself. My mother is obviously dead already. I'm the one who kept the money, and the food on the table. She'll end up having an overdose, or she'll be murdered by drug dealers who want their money. On the off chance I return home, my mother will already be in her coffin.

Of course, it's only been... 9 days since I last saw her. Has it really been only 9 days? It feels like months have passed since I last saw the stone-cold expression on my mother's withered features.

9 days. I've been in the arena for what, 4 days now? So it's been 4 days since I left the realm of the overfed population of the Capitol. It's been 4 days since I've left the overindulged, over-beautified group of pathetic people that consider themselves above us.

They really are a patetic bunch of fools, listening to the gory sounds of murdered teenagers while gorging on endless buffets of seafood. It's their fault that I'm in this mess, isn't it. It is. It's their fault.

However, blaming them will not help me out of this mess. In fact, shouting something about hating the Capitol will get me in trouble. Not only myself, but Clarisse as well, and I don't want that to happen. Call me stupid, but I'd rather have us survive another day.

And that means knowing what to say in this kind of environment.

You're always on display
For everyone to watch and learn from

The sounds of the night were easily drowned out by the anthem last night. The bellowing sounds of an orchestra caused me to jump in alarm, my hand grasping the hilt of my broadsword. It's a very nice looking sword - the hilt is decorated with shades of navy blue and gold.

I proceeded to sit against a tree and watch as the faces of the tributes appeared. First off was the District 2 guy - Theodore. I remember him well. My hand had absentmindedly flew to the scarring scab on my neck. So he's dead. Hmm. I heard a cannon after that really odd shoe epidemic - my collar still hurt like hell. That might have been him then. I didn't even recall the District 7 boy. He just slipped through my radar I guess. It's very unnerving - that I barely knew the kid and yet he died so nearby.

But then I noticed some odd figure-shaped beings float past in the horizon. What? What was that? But I had no time to further elaborate on what they were, because they disappeared from view. But they looked human-like...

We're entering a clearing. Well, I wouldn't call it a clearing actually. There are pumpkins littered all over the floor, in various shapes and sized. But they're just... sitting there. It's obvious that there's more to this area than just a free meal. Something sinister is here... Hiding under the pumpkins? Or... in the pumpkins? I don't really know, it's not like the pumpkins are moving or anything. But something else is.
[/color]

Don't you know by now? You can't turn back
Because this road is all you'll ever have

There are tributes among us. Two of them. And by the color of one's hair, and the fact that I can see armor on them, it's the Careers. Well, two of them. What happened, did they split up or something? I guess that happened... Wow. I recognize the two of them though - Topaz.... something, and Harvey. No, that's her last name. Nila... Nina... Natalie... Nash. Yes, that's it. Topaz and Nash Harvey. The last time I even thought I saw them was in...

The Bloodbath.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying
Just living proof that the camera's lying

They all died. All three of them perished there. I never even got to say anything to them. I just ran like a coward, chasing after some ghostly image of Hermione Easteallas. But, these two... They have the armor. Therefore, they must have seen everything. Maybe they were the ones that...

Fuck.

You know what, it's likely that it happened. It's very likely that I'm looking at their murderers right now. My eyes narrow slightly, for I know that a fight is imminent. I take a half-glance at Clarisse before proceeding through the pumpkins, and towards the girl with the same hue as the fruit of doom.
And oh, oh, open wide, 'cause this is your night
So smile, 'cause you'll go out in style

"Was it you? Did your so-called alliance kill them? You know who I mean. Your district partner, the boy from 3, and the girl from 7. Did you?"

I don't even wait for the answer before attacking. I already know the end result.

[[attacks Topaz w/broadsword b/c she was unlucky enough to get picked via randomizer]]

You'll go out in style.

[dice=200+1000]
1092 - Shallow Cut on Neck - 4.0
[/size][/blockquote][/color]
[rand=45939641294275235555832187998580463213341980831017060530401133267]

Last Edit: Oct 24, 2010 21:47:22 GMT -5 by shrimp

gm bourgeois decadence [aya]
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"GUNNERRRRR~"

Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 25, 2010 16:13:39 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Oct 25, 2010 16:13:39 GMT -5

There was blood inside the basement
Where the woman used to lie
In a sleeping bag we shared
Upon the floor 'most every night
And darlin' I'm drunk
Cause everything that I have loved
Has turned to stone
So pack your bags and come back home

Nash Harvey —

It wasn't right, Nash had decided, to be sleeping when there was nobody to keep watch. She'd gotten a decent amount of rest, despite the complaints of her left arm — decidedly broken, courtesy of the shoe — and was completely okay with forfeiting the remaining hour or so until daybreak. She wouldn't get back to sleep anyhow, so what was the difference if she were propped up against a tree, hunting knife in hand, rather than (quite comfortably) trapped in a sleeping bag, two wounded arms pinned.

With as much stealth as she could muster so as to not wake her ally up, Nash gently extracted herself from their shared sleeping bag, inhaling sharply as her fractured arm was forced to bear a small amount of her bodyweight. Shifting her weight to the right caused the edges of the gash she'd received to pull, resulting in a similar, if slightly less intense shot of pain. The District Two tribute — the only one left, as of the previous night's Anthem — made a mental note to readjust the splint she set before going to sleep.

Outside of the cocoon of shared body heat, the early morning was crisp. Not even considering the foliage in the Arena, the whole atmosphere just screamed autumn — it was chilly, calm, with that certain indescribably autumn-ness about it. The sky hadn't even begun to exhibit the misty grey that signified the approach of daybreak, and Nash could barely even make out the form of her sleeping — she was sleeping, right? — ally, yet the night and the air brought a great sense of peace, one which the tribute felt little more than inklings of since long before she'd even left for the Capitol. She closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath, savoring the serenity that she knew she'd never experience again.

With only the brief pause to enjoy the early morning, the tribute slowly pulled herself over their gear, quietly rooting around until she found her hunting knife — it would have to do as a weapon, as managing a harpoon with one broken arm was a laughable idea. Her handling of the weapon had been mediocre when she'd had both limbs in full working order, but with her left out of commission, Nash was certain that her power and accuracy would be all but nonexistent.

She sat there, cross-legged amongst the their gear for quite some time, eyes finding each silhouette of the scenery, determined to stare at anything but Topaz. It was easy at first: there were plenty of trees, rocks, the lake in the distance, and the moon overhead. But every time her eyes swept from one object to the next, they hovered on her sleeping ally a moment longer each time. For Nash, it was as though the other girl was magnetic, and it was a little bit scary. But they were going to die soon — or, she was at least; the District One tribute still had a real shot at winning — so what the hell? It didn't matter at this point what Nash did at the end of her life — that was now — so what was there to be afraid of?

A silent figure — figures? — in the trees drew her vision away from their camp and turned her blood to ice. What was that!? It certainly didn't seem like a tribute, even though it was shaped sort of like one. So was it a mutt? But the mutts so rarely moved so discreetly, and the thing didn't seem to be moving directly towards them. Whatever it was, it made Nash extremely uneasy, and the Two reacted even worse.

Get out! Get out of there! You've got to go, get away from that
thing and run! Get your stuff and your ally and go! No, there's no time for that! Leave her! It doesn't matter either way, but you need to go. Now!

[/i]

If both of them were agreeing, then it must be cause for alarm. Nash waited no more than a second before rousing her ally from sleep. "Topaz," she whispered gently at first, shaking the other girl's shoulder. Pulse pounding impatiently in her temples, Nash's voice became an urgent hiss without giving the other girl time to respond."Tope, we've got to go." She left the District One tribute with a few seconds to get up and hurriedly gathered their belongings, which, fortunately, were mostly organized. She attempted to throw one pack over her left shoulder, but was foiled by the acute wave of pain that resulted (seriously, a shoe!?) and took both bags in her right instead, forced by the unfortunate lack of pockets to grip her knife by the blade between her teeth; she refused to stow it.

With the additional weight borne by her right arm, however, Nash could feel fresh blood, warm and ferric, making its way down her arm from the gash that had been opened the previous night. There was no pain with the reopened wound, but she cursed herself for not taking the moment to patch it up better that morning — but really, what was there to do? She couldn't have sutured it with an operable left hand, let alone a gimp one, and the stitches probably would've popped under the stress anyhow. It wasn't really an issue, then, though; as the Two kept reminding her at regular intervals, they needed to flee the area.

She glanced urgently at Topaz, trying to express that they had to leave, no time for questions, and making sure the other tribute would follow (at this point, Nash was confidant that she would without explanation, which was good, as one could not be provided, at least, not right then.) and started a quick pace away from the area in which the two tributes spent the night — or half of it, anyhow. They could regroup their things later; Nash could carry both packs on her slightly less injured arm for a short while, and hopefully Topaz had the spears, but it would be better if their things could be more evenly divided.

As she pressed on, heart rate slowing, Nash's anxiety over the silhouette(s) (whether this was plural or not, she had no idea) that had crept past had diminished as her adrenaline rush faded out, and was replaced by the nagging curiosity that had a tendency to be a killer of Tributes in the Arena. But what was it that had spooked the Two so badly — another set of demons, perhaps? Why were the Gamemakers using them, and for what? She tried to ignore it, but it wasn't easy. The Two agreed so infrequently that when they immediately came to the same conclusion and called for similar action, it was such a complete shock that Nash would drop what she was doing and pay attention to whatever point they were trying to get across. So what could the threat have been?

A short while later, the landscape had transformed into a large open field, with a lack of cover that made the already on-edge Nash even more uneasy. The sky had taken on the slight greying that signified the approach of dawn, yet no tendrils of color had begun to reach at the horizon. Stones — no, these were unmistakably gourds — littered the ground around them, large as several watermelons, and, as with everything else in the Arena, seemingly anything but innocuous. The large pumpkins could contain any number of nasty surprises — mutts, poison, corrosive gel, explosives. Nearly two decades of watching the Hunger Games had made it brutally apparent that whatever might be helpful was probably harmful, and whatever was probably harmful would definitely kill you.

It wasn't the orange fruit however, that was the most imminent danger; two other tributes had picked the clearing as a place for — what, for camp? Or perhaps they were just wandering through, trying to get away from whatever it was that was wandering the Arena earlier. Didn't really matter: they were here, and they didn't seem too keen to share the turf. But it was, after all, the Hunger Games — when two opposing forces met up, it always ended in bloodshed. Usually ended in death. Nash dropped everything besides her knife the moment one of them started talking.

Nash recognized the guy — he was the one who'd gotten the head-sever during the bloodbath. And, what was it he was saying? This was the Hunger Games. It was hard for the District Two tribute to recognize that this guy, the decapitator, was trying to pin some kills on Topaz. To blame her for them? The hypocrisy of it put an involuntary scowl on Nash's face. Was he seriously trying to justify himself as some sort of vengeance-seeker before he engaged them in combat? That was pathetic. If you were going to kill someone, you needed to take responsibility for it; trying to make an excuse for yourself was, frankly, inexcusable.

But Nash didn't say a word as she attacked, just simply slashed at the other tribute's ally — the girl, reasoning that a preemptive strike on this front would do more good than trying to retaliate for the strike against Topaz made by the speaker, no matter how badly she wanted him dead. It would just be easier this way.

[[Attacks Clarisse]]
[dice=200+2000]
[Shallow Cut on Left Hip; 3.5]

[/blockquote][/size][/color][rand=081729749217629432785960941109806317821519775316128634844399057329]

Last Edit: Oct 25, 2010 16:15:05 GMT -5 by gm bourgeois decadence [aya]

{characters}

certified kindergartener
stranded in "beach" "city"
leader of the crystal gems

Tori
Retired Staff

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Pigfarts, Pigfarts, yum, yum, yum.

Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 25, 2010 19:07:46 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Tori on Oct 25, 2010 19:07:46 GMT -5

It was still partly dark when they'd reached the pumpkin patch. A pumpkin patch in an arena. The capitol was really trying to make a statement this year weren't they? Pumpkin patches, the creepiness that held this arena, and the tributes' ridiculous outfits. There was a theme. It was harder to see everything in the dark. Clarisse could make out the outline of pumpkins as she tip-toed behind Will. He had signaled for her to be quiet and crept forward. She did as he instructed, following behind him.

She replayed the anthem from earlier that night in her head. No one she recognised had been in the sky. However, Will must have known them. She had watched his reactions. He was interesting person, and one who still had feelings in the arena. Sometimes she found herself staring at him when he wasn't looking. He was an intriguing person to him.

The sky was starting to break away from darkness. The sun hadn't yet rose in the arena, but the darkness was fading and Clarisse knew it soon would. Her backpack was heavy with the water they had boiled last night. She had finished up one of the jugs and left it by their site because she already had two and didn't want to carry anymore weight.

Immediately, Clarisse found herself falling to the ground. Not on accident, but because they had spotted something. She winced from her foot hitting the ground as well. And she cursed the stupid shoe storm that had rained down on them from the day before. Her broken foot throbbed, but she ignored the pain. There were people. Tributes. Kills. Will and her were becoming hunters. And not very good ones at that. She saw one of the girls drop her bags and look over in their direction. They had definitely been spotted. Will looked at Clarisse as if to ask if she should move forward. She nodded, and as he started running towards them, she jumped to her feet. Clarisse followed after him, carefully to shift her weight to her other foot. She wa barely managing on her own.

Not even moments later, the boy was screaming accusations at the female tributes that they were now attacking. Clarisse rolled her eyes as she dropped her bags, gripping her falchon ever tighter. Did he always have to make a scene? Will first hit landed on the girl with the red hair. Only about a shade different from Clarisse's own. Will's broadsword made contact. Before Clarisse could block it, the other girl's knife grazed her hip, drawing new blood.

"Shit." She hissed and grabbed her side with her free hand. Clarisse had been expecting the girl to go after Will since he was attacking her ally. It seemed for a moment that she had forgotten that these were the Hunger Games. That people didn't care about their allies. Just like she didn't care about Will's life either. Right? Right?

It didn't matter, so she pushed the thoughts from her mind. And she looked at the girl who attacked her. There was blood on her shirt. It seemed fresh. And her arm looked broken. Clarisse smiled, almost. Maybe she would pull out of this one alive. There was a chance. Maybe today she would get her first kill in the games. Surely then she'd be able to go to the feast. And there, she'd make more kills than Will. This was a competition after all.

Veronica's body flashed through her mind for a moment. And the memory unsettled her. All this year she had managed to keep the memories from her mind. Why were they all returning now? It did not matter. Clarisse gripped Occisor and swung it at the female tribute in front of her.

[Attacks Nash Harvey]
[dice=200+1000]
Shallow Cut on Neck 4.0

Clarisse landed a hit on the back of the girl's neck, just as she had seen Will do moments ago. It was time to fight. And she was going to enjoy it.

[rand=459675030343821237368521602627351224308085828737734655056991457362]

Last Edit: Oct 25, 2010 21:54:29 GMT -5 by Tori

My characters can be found here. PM me to roleplay.

Lulu
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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 25, 2010 19:25:03 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Lulu on Oct 25, 2010 19:25:03 GMT -5

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
we'll be washed && buried
one day, my girl
&& the time we were given
will be left for the world
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

As opposed to previous rests in the arena, Topaz slept much less fitfully that night. Her dreams were not interlaced with various discomforts; tributes with weapons, fluffy orange sheep, vicious, godlike hounds, a wooden casket tightly nailed shut. She did not toss and turn, nor was she constantly on the alert and waking up at every little sound; for some unfathomable reason she felt safer there with only Nash than she had with the two others, Takeba and Anani, as well. The sleeping bag was also surprisingly comfortable, which was unusual coming from someone who cherished her personal space. Of course, this probably had less to do with the bedroll itself and more with the person sharing in with her.

The scent of Nash's hair was unavoidable as they lay there in the close confines of the sleeping bag, and had Topaz not been so utterly exhausted she would have probably been kept awake by the feeling of giddiness it caused her. Nash liked her. She liked Nash. They were both stuffed together under the poufy covers of their makeshift bed, and quite willingly, at that. For the moment, all was right with the world. They could forget that this was being broadcast to the entirety of the nation. They could forget their impending death, at least for a night.

Their discussion the previous night had succeeded in being interrupted by the extremely unexpected storm of shoes that had rained down on them. Topaz had been assailed by both a loafer and a platform boot, and Nash had suffered the wrath of a geta and a particularly ferocious swimming flipper. Luckily Tope had caught sight of the loafer just before it hit and had been able to escape it and call out a warning to Nash, but then the boot had come out of nowhere and left her with a decent sized bruise. Her warning had been useless anyway; Nash had been unable to dodge her footwear agressors and had been left with both a broken arm and a gash to the bicep. And then it was done, before either of them had time to mull over the randomness of what had just happened. Really, though, what was it? Was that the Capitol's way of showing that they could 'step on' the tributes all they wanted? If so, Topaz suggested they come up with some more creative metaphors.

By the time the anthem rolled around Nash had managed to treat her injuries pretty accurately, and both Careers were done in. They reached the unspoken agreement to share the sleeping, obviously not because of the wish for extra body heat, and were just getting ready to sleep when the anthem sounded. Tope watched the sky with avid interest, and as the faces flashed by she counted the number of tributes left. Anani and Takeba were not among the dead, so it seemed they had escaped the fight. Nash's district partner was no more. So they must be down to about...nine? Something like that. It was getting close. Winning was within reach. Of course, though, presently she was more interested in living in the moment and making the most of what she had right now, which was Nash. She had Nash. It wasn't time to figure out how she'd react if and when she no longer had her.

Sleep came almost immediately, with the comforting feeling of the other girl beside her. In the morning she couldn't remember if she'd dreamed at all; the only thing she recalled was Nash shaking her awake while it was still dark. "Topaz. Tope, we've got to go." The District One tribute was still in that muddled moment of grogginess, in between oblivion and consciousness, and the first thing she acknowledged was Nash's use of her nickname, which was usually only utilized by her family and close friends. Her voice rang out in Topaz's head a few more times. Tope. It sounded so nice coming from her mouth. She wished she'd say it again.

Of course, after she had stretched and felt more awake she could not ignore the second part of the sentence. We've got to go. What? Why? "Hm? Wha?"

[/color] Topaz's sentence was interrupted by a huge yawn, and she briefly contemplated going back to sleep. Nash obviously didn't realize that someone like her needed beauty sleep, regardless of the fact that she'd been looking the farthest thing from beautiful lately. And besides, she did not take to having her first comfortable sleep in days interrupted...yes, she'd just conk out again. Sorry, Nash.

The red-haired girl was halfway into the sleeping bag again when she caught sight of the urgent look in Nash's eyes. Even though it was still dark she was able to see those warm brown orbs by the light of the moon. It was upon that desperate look that she decided to listen, and a second later she was up on her feet, snatching up everything that Nash hadn't managed to grab already, including both the trident and the harpoon. Within a few minutes they were moving out of the campsite, Tope following Nash this time, which was slightly different from the norm. But Topaz still had no clue what was going on; she was merely trusting her ally's judgement. This may or may not have been a good idea, but at that moment it was all she could think to do.

She didn't know how long they traveled; a few hours, maybe. But a fair amount of time later Tope noticed a change in the scenery; it seemed that there were in some sort of pumpkin patch. Pumpkin patch? What was with this arena? First falling shoes, then pumpkins as far as the eye could see...one thing was for sure, the Gamemakers seemed to enjoy messing with the fifty-sixth set of tributes. This was just...weird.

Her mood had not particularly improved since they'd left their lake camp; as they had walked Topaz had found time to be irritated at the abrupt intrusion of whatever it was that Nash had felt the need to get away from fast. It wasn't just due to the lack of sleep, though; ever since the previous evening when Nash had admitted to liking her she'd had this lovely fantasy in her head of the pair being awoken comfortably by sunlight, in agreeable moods, to go about their morning activities and clean up the campsite, all the while staring at each other without having to look away. Tope would flirt lightly, as was to be expected, of course, and leave the camp in high spirits before noon. A fantastic morning, as arena ones went. But obviously, it was never that easy.

As they walked briskly through the orange gourds Topaz gave a sharp intake of breath as she felt a searing pain in her leg, and the tribute looked down to see that one of her leg wounds had reopened. It must have been from the sheep-mutt fight two days before, considering she hadn't taken any injuries since. Figured it would reopen then of all times. "Hey, slow up for a moment,"[/color] she called to Nash, stopping to tentatively sit on a pumpkin, hoping it wouldn't smash under her weight. For a second she briefly considered asking the District Two tribute to stitch up the wound, but she was still cross over the direction the morning had turned in and did not want to take it out on Nash, especially because of the wonderful connection that had developed between them the previous evening. So she just let it lie for now; it didn't much impair her movement, it was just an annoying pain. She'd find a way to tend to it later.

Topaz didn't notice that there were others in the area as early on as Nash did; it took the sound of the male's voice to alert her of him and his presumed ally's presence. She swung around and recognized him immediately; he was the brute who had severed the head of one of the kids in the Bloodbath. And now he was accusing her of killing his allies? Because of him some tribute's cranium was no longer attached to his neck and now they were the murderers?

She probably should have attacked him, considering he attacked her right after speaking, slicing the side of her neck. Had it been deeper it probably could have been fatal; the cut wsa perilously close to her jugular. But her more vengeful side insisting upon attacking his ally, as Nash had done, to better answer his question. Yes, we killed your allies, you fool, and we're going to do it again. Besides, it made more sense, anyway. She appeared to be more injured; she'd be easier to dispose of. "Hm...yeah, guess we have to take credit for that."[/color] As she spoke she positioned herself to attack and thrust her trident in the direction of the female.

[attacks Clarisse, spear]
[dice=200+3000]
[deep gash right forearm, 8.0]

[/blockquote][/justify]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
the flesh that lived && loved
will be eaten by plague
so let the memories be good
for those who stay
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

[/color]

[/size][/center] [rand=4090955308638513924304626183584371987979626283057337115621194243]

Last Edit: Oct 25, 2010 19:45:19 GMT -5 by Lulu

{lulu's cast}

shrimp
Retired Staff

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 25, 2010 20:00:01 GMT -5

Quote

Post by shrimp on Oct 25, 2010 20:00:01 GMT -5

><will atlas><

I really must learn to control the tone of voice that emanates from my throat. I mean really, I must have sounded a tad bit ridiculous with that statement. After all, this is the Hunger Games, people die, that's a given. But... we were going to survive, all of us were. I remember attacking Clarisse for Hermione's sake, decapitating that boy's head was somewhat of my conscience's doing. But wouldn't that classify as myself? It probably does, doesn't it...

But that's not what I was talking about. We, Tim and Gerrard, Hermione and I, we were going to make it past Day 1. We'd have... We'd have at least something to get by, right? There would be four weapons, enough water bottles, food... But clearly, that didn't happen. Instead, they all met their end on the first day. I was pretty shocked, to say the least. I mean, Timothy was a Career... And Hermione could wield an axe well... Although why she grabbed a trident I have no idea.

I have to clear these thoughts out of my head though. The pure... annoyance in my voice sparked... something. I guess it showed that I cared about them more than I thought... But still - It's time to fight, not to freak out over silly little things such as avenging your allies' killers. They might not even have ended their lives.

However, it feels pretty damn good when my sword swipes at Topaz's neck. I can sense something brewing... Is it bloodlust? Maybe. The senses are starting to become more acute - The flight vs. fight reaction is occurring I guess. I can hear better, my eyes dart to Topaz, and back to Harvey. Topaz, Harvey, Topaz, Clarisse.

Clarisse! Damn it. Harvey closes in the gap between our two groups, cutting the other red-head's hip. Why... why is she attacking her? I'm the one who swiped at her ally. I guess Careers really don't care about things like that. It's actions like these that can really separate Careers from scared little teenagers - they don't think about anyone else. For the most part that is.

My ally retaliates by swiping her weapon at Harvey, creating a wound similar to the one inflicted on Topaz.

But the District 1 female continues the attack by thrusting her trident at Clarisse as well, bursting through blood vessels in the girl's right arm. This isn't good - Clarisse was the smart one; she didn't make any stupid comments while she attacked. I'm the one who really should be dead here.

But wait... Trident.... That's the same one that Hermione had, isn't it? It's hard to tell anymore; the fight seemed unreal at the Cornucopia. I could have sworn though... wasn't it her trident? It could be, after all Topaz was probably one of the last ones at the Bloodbath - she could have pried it from the dead girl's hands, or picked it up from the ground. Ugh, I don't know anymore.

Yet Ross' (the last name finally came to me) comment finally pops up in my head. I'm sure it's just meant to freak me out a bit, make the playing field even more disproportional than it already is. But she could be telling the truth... This is too confusing for me.

I feel a slight presence next to me, but I can't afford to look there now. Any deviation from my path will result in my death via Career, and that's not really on my bucket-list, if you know what I mean.

What are you doing? Attack them for Pete's sake!

It's Jack. I can sense the annoyance and panic in his voice. I guess that if I die, my subconscious fades into nothingness along with me. I don't really know though - in reality, he could just be a figment of my imagination (which he is, but I mean it in a different way). He could merely be something that's conjured up from my mind - not a subconscious at all. But who has time for this kind of thinking in the midst of battle?

Well, in this battle, they're ganging up on Clarisse, so why not play the same game? Fight fire with fire, as the saying goes. So I swing my broadsword towards the girl.

The one whose hair doesn't compliment the scenery in a most orange-way.

[[attacks Nash w/broadsword]]
[dice=200+1000]
1050 - Shallow Cut on Right Forearm - 3.5

[/color][rand=246903552552829362127348822960638560174359178207694868613695016918]

Last Edit: Oct 25, 2010 20:00:44 GMT -5 by shrimp

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 26, 2010 13:46:07 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Oct 26, 2010 13:46:07 GMT -5

If there's a god up in the air
Someone looking over everyone
At least you've got something
To fall back on

Nash Harvey —

This being the Hunger Games, Nash felt little remorse for the damage inflicted on the other girl, the one who'd give Nash a nick on the neck to match her ally's. With Topaz following Nash's lead and targeting the girl rather than her self-rightious ally, and the male tribute attacking Nash rather than aiming his sword at Topaz again, it became quite apparent that she was the shield, just as the girl who was receiving their attacks: a slice on the hip from the District Two tribute, and a gash of fairly large size courtesy of her District One ally. And if Nash were to be the shield, the one taking all the damage while they both made their attacks, well, that was all for the better. Less to worry about. Pain, she could deal with.

But what was going to happen when the red-haired Career tribute — no, that wasn't going to happen. Or, at least, not until Nash was gone. Of this, the District Two girl was certain. She wasn't a solid contender in the Games, just a factor — however small — pushing them onwards. She'd be discarded eventually, willingly or no, because that was how the Games worked: alliances only lasted so long. Things happened, people died long before the end. People died right before the end. People died right at the end. People died. That was the point, wasn't it? That people died if the Capitol wanted them to.

Not that it really mattered. Because when it got right down to it, there were no winners — you'd have to be made of stone to be completely unaffected by the Arena, and, no, a close relationship with rocks did not count (as demonstrated by the 55th Victor.) Everyone broke down eventually: during, usually, and if not then, after. The male they were fighting was a prime example of this: he'd practically gone into hysterics — or, Nash believed that he had — over what could only have been his dead allies, the ones he had abandoned to die at the bloodbath. And this was the kid who'd beheaded someone right off the bat. No, the Games were not conducive to staying sane. Nash had been okay so far though, and that was one of the benefits of going into the Arena already psychotic.

Who, us? You're not crazy. Of course she is. It doesn't matter. The present, focus on the present. you going to attack someone, sweetheart?

They were, of course, right: nothing was more deadly in the HUnger Games than losing focus. People who lost touch with reality always ended up dying pretty soon. But there was a difference between losing touch with it and blocking it out, wasn't there? Because, in reality, Nash knew she probably had under twenty-four hours left in her own personal hourglass. Forty-eight if she was lucky. Yet still, she couldn't help but think of actually trying to have — what? A fling? An actual relationship? A something, at the least — with her companion, the ally she'd followed away from the fight on the previous day. Good Ripred, was that only yesterday? It felt like eons ago. Months, if not years.

Remember this little thing called 'reality?' I suggest you forget Topaz and return to it, unless you want a sword through your eye. But, you know, matter of prefererance, I guess. Kill her. You don't even know who she is! Who gave you the right to strike down a life you don't even know? The Capitol did. Now, come on, one quick jab. It's easy. You've done it before.

[/i]

If there was one thing about the Two that Nash could not stand, it was the patronizing tone they often took with her. She wasn't a child, she knew what she needed to do — she knew how and she wasn't hesitating! Gritting her teeth in frustration with the irritating voices, Nash brought her knife in an upwards arc, ignoring the twinge from yesterday's flipper-induced wound that had reopened itself on her arm. The sooner the fight was over with, the quicker she could let her thoughts to drift again, like she liked to. Despite the number of people she'd surrounded herself with back in District Two, she'd always been more comfortable inside her own head, and the Arena had brought that out in her. Maybe it was a disappointment that her last week or so would be filled largely with silence and missed opportunities to speak, but, as her mother had loved to point out, nearly everything about the girl was.

[[Attacks Clarisse]]
[dice=200+2000]
[Stabbed in Forearm; 8.5]

[/blockquote][/size][/color][rand=59126008395105654679664713330571670760083943605437735166889615357]

Last Edit: Oct 26, 2010 13:46:52 GMT -5 by gm bourgeois decadence [aya]

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 26, 2010 20:52:12 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Tori on Oct 26, 2010 20:52:12 GMT -5

Clarisse knew the difference between life and death. Between living and dying. And the optimistic red-head she had known so long ago was a thing of the past. All but a memory. A ghost from her childhood, before she really undertsnad what it was like to live under the capitol's rule. Their laws and choices didn't just effect the capitol and the games. All of Panem was effected, even if they didn't have a link to either.

The good thing about already being dead, was that it wouldn't hurt so much to die again. Or so she thought. Soon, she would know. The other red-head targetted her. And it was fire and fire for a moment, until Clarisse reconsidered her swing. Topaz and Nash. Those were the careers she was fighting. Maybe she had paid more attention to her competition than she thought. No, Topaz was not the one to attack.

Fire did not fight fire without a trace, and Clarisse was the one marked. Her left arm started bleeding as thegirl's trident tore the skin there, and she let out a gasp in pain. Seeing her own blood was different than being satisfied with others. Topaz had chose to attack her. Clarisse knew it would all be over soon in that case. It was no longer her staying alive anymore, but who she took down with her.

Will finally appeared. He lunged at the other girl, drawing blood from her arm as well. "Will!" Clarisse called out, as she swung Occisor through the air, trying to keep the other tributes at bay before they attacked her again. "If you want to get out of here, attack Nash." It didn't matter that they could hear her. It made no difference whether they could or couldn't. It wouldn't change the outcome of the fight. And Will needed to know. Clarisse was clever. And she knew to think first. And Nash was the groups weakest link. Just like she was in Will's alliance.

There was an almost unbearable pain in her forearm. And blood started to drain out of it. Clarisse shot the girl who stabbed her a nasty glare. She new the end was near now. If she were to get lost in a moment at any time, it was now. "That's how you guys want to play it? Fine by me." She gritted her teeth and swung at the girl once more.

[Attacks Nash Harvey]
[dice=200+1000]
Shallow Cut on Left Bicep 3.5

Clarisse only just grazed Nash's arm, but it didn't really matter at the moment. "Run when I'm gone, Will." She was paying little attention to him or what he was doing, but she knew that she was his chance to get out of here alive. The moment she was down, he would have to run. Why?

For a moment it unsettled her and she felt her confidence waver. Why was she helping him? If she didn't win, she didn't want anyone to. Clarisse had never planned to make it past the bloodbath. She had volunteered for the sole purpose of protecting the only person she had left. Serenity. She didn't know it then, but she did still care. And there was a reason she volunteered. She would have to keep fighting anyways.

Serenity couldn't see her go down so easily. She had to make it like no big deal. As if she hadn't change. Still the bloodlusting girl she was. Wanting to bring the capitol down. And Will... He seemed to trust her, and maybe that was what swayed her. Maybe that was what caused her to become attached. The one think Veronica had never given her. Trust. Clarisse bundled her arm into her shirt for the moment, trying to stop the bleeding. Her foot was throbbing once more, and she tried not to walk on it. "Aim wisely, Will."

[rand=3769313603101254780840740705018251816457922624795470683671290391]

Last Edit: Oct 26, 2010 21:03:09 GMT -5 by Tori

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 26, 2010 22:16:41 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Lulu on Oct 26, 2010 22:16:41 GMT -5

The horizon was growing brighter with every second as the sun rose, and the field full of orange gourds was being slowly bathed in bright light. It was hard not to be distracted by the brightness or the colors in the sky, because Topaz had always enjoyed watching sunrises, but the more dominant part of her mind told her that fighting, killing these enemies was the most important thing right now. Because if they didn't die soon, Nash was going to die. It was clear that they were targeting her, and she wasn't surprised; her ally was already beat up from the unexpected shoe attack the previous night, far more than Tope herself was. Only an idiot wouldn't be able to see that, and even though she in no way liked these two tributes they were battling, she was not going to accuse them of being unintelligent.

The boy...what was his name? She couldn't really remember. Walt, or Whit or something. Something with a 'W', definitely. And his last name...something about maps. She could almost recall his interview, but just barely. Their brief week in the Capitol seemed worlds away to the red haired tribute now, as if it had only been a dream, or had deteriorated into nothing but a fading memory that would vanish altogether quite soon. The glitz of Panem's capital city was growing harder and harder to recall, as was the time she had spent training and observing the other tributes. What did it matter, anyway? The arena was what mattered...the fight...winning...Nash...

Again, Topaz couldn't help but observe how awkwardly the last two fit together. She couldn't seem to fathom one without the other, but she knew it was unavoidable; she couldn't have both. It was one, the other, or neither. And at that moment she wasn't entirely sure what she longed for the most. The situation had changed drastically; this was no longer a matter of life and death. It was life and life, in a way. It all depended on what kind of 'life' she wanted.

It was impossible to concentrate with thoughts of the brown-haired District Two female in her mind, though; this was something she'd realized as early as the Bloodbath. Once more Tope had to remind herself of what mattered now; the blood on her hands, that mattered. It meant that she was disposing of her opponents, which was exactly what she needed to do right then.

The girl was getting pretty beat up, that much was obvious; both Topaz and Nash had managed a few decent attacks and she was bloody all over. She muttered something to her ally, and Tope caught the word 'Nash' (This was not surprising, considering her ears were more sensitive to that name than probably any other) and she could hazard a guess as to what she was telling her ally to do. Attack Nash. Get rid of her first. Target the weakest link, then move on to the opposition that was going to be more of a challenge.

Perhaps another time Topaz would have acknowledged the implication that she was the true challenger of the team. She was the Career who seemed at least somewhat Career-like; Nash, for all her skill in some areas, was weaker in some others. But, seeing as her thoughts had been constantly of her ally lately, she couldn't help but take offense on Nash's part. There was nothing she'd like more than to snap the necks of these imbeciles they were fighting and smash their faces into these gruesome pumpkins that surrounded the battling tributes, but of course they wouldn't allow that so easily. She'd have to be contented with making them bleed. That was good enough.

To a bystander, Topaz and Nash probably would not have seemed as unified as the other pair, seeing as they hadn't actually exchanged a word with each other since the fight had began. It wasn't necessary, though; regardless of the fact that they hadn't known each other that long, it still seemed like they had a connection; this was plain to see in the way Topaz had automatically known to follow Nash in attacking Clarisse, how their movements and attacks seemed to correspond with each other. They didn't need to talk, and surprisingly Topaz didn't even want to talk. It was amazing how the arena could change a person in that drastic of a way; the seventeen-year-old, who normally liked nothing more than to babble away about something, anything, really, preferred the silence. For some reason it bothered her when the sounds of death--screaming, heavy breathing, the clash of metal on metal--was interrupted by something as trivial as conversation. So, without thinking, because thinking seemed unnecessary at the moment as well, Topaz rolled her eyes in the direction of the female with the red hair like hers and her teammate, the boy with the map last name that she couldn't remember. "Oh, shut up,"

she snapped. The other redhead really needed to stop mulling over the fact that she was going to die at the hands of the Careers, as Tope could clearly see that she was doing. Everyone died in this godforesaken place. Get over it.

The District One tribute positioned herself to attack again, her trident that was glistening with the blood of her adversaries clenched tight in her hand. Briefly she mulled over how useful the weapon had been, and couldn't help but be grateful to Takeba for passing it over to her after killing its previous owner, that annoying girl from Seven, Hermione something. The one who'd freaking kissed Takeba after the District Four girl had killed her. Obviously something was wrong in that head of hers. Kissing your killer? A new level of crazy. But that was beside the point. The point was that her trident was invaluable, and even though she still would have rather had her weapon of choice, a sword, it was a close second. Supposing she survived and went on to win, she'd like to train with tridents more often. They were useful weapons, though she didn't know when she'd ever have to use them outside of the arena. But still, practice made perfect. Like now, for instance. Why not get all the killing practice she could get? These tributes needed to die, anyway.

[attacks Clarisse, spear]
[dice=200+3000]
[miss]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
staring at the carnage, praying that the sun
will never rise, living another day in disguise
these feelings can't be right
lend me your courage stand up && fight

[/color].:.:.:.:.:.:.[/center]
[/blockquote][/size][/color][/justify]
[rand=3495589243248105865835980745032404677937366068363461590833729133]

Last Edit: Oct 26, 2010 22:33:23 GMT -5 by Lulu

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 27, 2010 18:00:11 GMT -5

Quote

Post by shrimp on Oct 27, 2010 18:00:11 GMT -5

I had always wondered what happens after death. But I had never thought that I'd actually be facing it this early in life. After all, fourteen people are picked from the group of eligible people during your lifetime as a possible tribute. Fourteen people are sent to fight to the deaths. A nineteen year old has seen fourteen people die in their place. There are so many people in any district, even the small ones like 12. You would never expect to be reaped amongst everyone in your district. It's illogical, even with some tesserae, it's still unlikely to be picked out of thousands of children.

But it happened. Twenty-four of us, living in totally different realms, were picked to die for the sake of everyone else. We're merely sacrifices in the Capitol's fun. We are pawns, pieces that are simply moved and removed without hesitation, simply because "the odds are not in our favor". Yes, we are unlucky enough to be murdered for the entertainment of many people who were lucky enough to have ancestors who lived in the vicinity of the Capitol. They were just lucky.

I guess the odds really were in their favor.

But right now, they are most certainly not near Clarisse. The poor girl is being hit by these two Careers, and I can barely do anything to stop them. Sure, we’re targeting somebody, but our blows are shallow, while theirs are brutal and likely to kill. Ms. Wilmith could be dead in a matter of minutes. But isn’t that good for us? It’s one less person to kill. It’s one less person that I get attached to, and truth be told, I wasn’t sure that our connection was as deep and powerful as friendship. The two of us merely bonded together to survive. I mean, I’m not going to go and kill her now, but I don’t consider her to be a good friend or anything. Do I respect her? Yes, most definitely. Is she a friend? Well, she could have been. But now we’re simply fighting to keep her intact, and away from the hovercraft.

I mean, we’re trying, but Harvey’s able to get a good shot into her arm, causing a wound very similar to Ross’. She could die right here, amongst the pumpkins, which blend into her hair and such. Her eyes could simply gaze into the sunrise for all eternity, never to see another human soul for… well forever. It's expected to happen of course - with fifteen of us dead it was bound to occur to one of us sooner or later. But I had never expected it to just pop up so suddenly.

In my little imagination, there would be a feast, and all of the tributes would rush to it, fearing for their lives yet yearning for an advantage over their allies. Both of us would enter, but only one would escape, wrought with despair over their ally's end... At least, that's what happens in my over-dramatic, over-reactive mind. But honestly, why do I even believe in my sanity anymore? I see my fricking subconcious for god's sake. There's no way that something would happen like that. No, it's not very likely to die an honorable death here in the arena, much less have time to mourn over someone's body.

Although at the rate that this battle is going, I'll have to be the one mourning soon, Clarisse is all bruised and battered, the blood dripping out of her wounds. Nash isn't doing as badly, but there's still blood and such. It's obvious as to who has the better chance of winning this fight. But then Topaz lunges, and misses. Misses? That means we have a chance. It's slight, but maybe, with this last shot... We'll survive one more day. Just one more day, that's all we need. And then, we might just make it through. Both of us.

I don't think I'd be able to take not saving another one.

[[attacks nash w/broadsword]]
[dice=200+1000]
1147 - Miss - 0.0

The broadsword misses the girl. And I know now, that I've lost the chance.

I've lost it, I've fucking lost it! Damn it! But I'm not giving up on her that easily. We still have a ways to go before this ends.

But at this stage, it seems like even the whole world's against us.

[rand=73482113377614111644973364343038603059680435507955421810474968671]

Last Edit: Nov 3, 2010 19:27:24 GMT -5 by shrimp

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Oct 27, 2010 20:21:16 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Oct 27, 2010 20:21:16 GMT -5

And, crawling on the planet's face,
Some insects, called the human race:
Lost in time, and lost in space
...and meaning.

Nash Harvey —

They'd reached the point in the fight, Nash realized, right before the end. Everyone was getting, what, tired? The accuracy of the attacks, at least, had gone completely down hill. Was it just that nobody cared anymore, that they all actually wanted to die, just not enough to actively kill themselves? Or maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe they'd all fallen into the automatic routine that fighting had become: the adrenaline rush had subsided and now it was just perfunctory.

Nash herself found her head to be particularly empty, devoid of the snarky and generally unhelpful comments of the Two. The silence at any other time would be welcome, but with everyone falling into a dry spell in terms of energy, it was a chilling distraction. She thrust her knife forward again, albeit hesitantly, as though in a daze.

[[Attacks Clarisse]]
[dice=200+2000]
[miss]

ooc- yup, this post is utter crap. Tori wanted me to generic so she could see, and I was just sick of it being there so I put a few bad paragraphs in.

ADMIN OOC- Just read this and freaked out at the RHPS lyrics. Superheroes! Mkay, that is all.

[rand=7688875331077725083237026585266666786668123677446173415216617286]

Last Edit: Oct 31, 2010 9:28:45 GMT -5 by Lulu

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Nov 3, 2010 19:01:25 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Tori on Nov 3, 2010 19:01:25 GMT -5

The sun had finally risen to a height that allowed the four tributes to see clearly in colour. The bright light reflected from the other redhead's hair, the orange all around them from the pumpkins, and the crimson red colour of fresh blood. It lined their clothes, skin, weapons, and even left trails on the ground. Clarisse could finally see her broken foot a bit more clearly, but she was also aware of the blood pouring from wounds on her body. Surely if she didn't die in this fight now, she would die of bloodloss later.

Topaz, the other redhead looked at Clarisse and retorted. She glared back at the girl in anger. And as the tribute attacked, Clarisse spun out of the trident's reach. "You shut up. You missed, didn't you." It was bit of a low place to fall. She was wounded, outnumbered almost, and resulting to stupid comebacks without really thinking. She shook her head in disappointment, and looked to Will, urging him to attack.

He swung his broadsword towards Nash, but she avoided it easily. What was going on with him? Did he have other things on his mind? Maybe he wanted to get rid of her. It might be easier for him once she was gone. Maybe that was his motive in attacking the tributes. Take out her and maybe one of them if they were lucky. Kill two birds with one stone. Either way, it didn't matter. It wasn't Will that Clarisse needed to worry about. She had already offered him advice and helped him. Now, she needed to worry about her own skin.

Nash attacked Clarisse next, after avoiding Will's attack. Clarisse easily evaded it. There was something different in her eyes. She saw that the tribute was dazed out. It was not meant to be a death kill, or maybe even made to make contact at all. Then why attack? She ignored it and continued herself. She was not the time to question another tribute's motives.

[Attacks Nash Harvey]
[dice=200+1000]
Deep Gash on Forehead - 9.0

Because of Nash's distraction, whatever the case may be, Clarisse was able to land a hit. She swung, aiming high. The blade managed to slice across the female tributes forehead, and Clarisse watched as blood began to poor out. She looked over quickly for her alliances next reaction. If she died from the next blow, at least her last attack had meaning. She had definitely got Nash at a disadvantage. And Will now had more of a chance then ever. This fight would most likely eliminate two of his competitors.

That would be good for him. She could tell the deaths were taking their toll of him. He was being more and more exhausted and she had watched him break down over a kill. He was weakening in emotion strength. Clarisse caught his eye, and smiled geniunely for the first time in a year. It was almost as if he could have been a friend. Maybe he could have been. She broke the eye contact immediately, her face becoming hard once again and gripping the handle on her weapon. If that smile was the last thing she did for Will, so be it. He had a heart like Rocko. And a fight like Jango.

[rand=9203612993151065559623307467083441558894849278293072320995708982]

Last Edit: Nov 3, 2010 19:09:44 GMT -5 by Tori

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Nov 3, 2010 21:03:11 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Lulu on Nov 3, 2010 21:03:11 GMT -5

At this point it was pretty much impossible to tell who was favored in this fight; it seemed like the odds were against both sides. Or maybe they were all just exhausted and this had nothing to do with odds; whatever the reason, they were all attacking with far less accuracy than they had been a few minutes ago. It frustrated Topaz to no end; she hated missing, and yet she'd just missed an attack that could have very well been a killing blow.

She needed a tribute kill under her belt. The ferocity of this desire surprised even her; why did she lust for blood so very intensely now? She had killed a sheep-mutt, sure, and a vicious one at that, but she didn't have a human kill to take credit for. She was supposed to be a big, bad Career, right? One of the top contenders in this deadly competition. And yet the only thing whose life she'd managed to take was not even an actual tribute. What would sponsors think of that? What of her parents, whom had insisted all her life that she trained for the Games? They believed their daughter could kill, kill and win. So why wasn't she doing so?

It was impossible to blame her eagerness to murder entirely on the expectations of others, though. She herself was on the verge of enjoying the battles, the fights, the deaths. The arena had completely flipped her morals backwards; now hearing a scream of horror was good, because it meant less competition. Seeing thick crimson liquid spurt out of a body was fantastic; the enemy was dying. Because tributes were the enemy, right? They got in the way of winning, of getting home. The other tributes were all against you. You have to kill them. At least, that was what the Capitol told their little charges. But sometimes Topaz couldn't help but wonder. Were the tributes merely obstacles in her path, and not the actual adversary? They were just the cars clogging up the road and preventing her from moving, they weren't the reason for the bumper-to-bumper traffic. The reason was...the Capitol.

Topaz had never hated the nation's capital city for pitting them against each other in such an inhuman game, and she didn't now. She knew she wouldn't in the future, either. The red-haired tribute had lived in the most luxurious, pampered district all her life, just in the shadow of the Capitol. Though they had to give the majority of their manufactured goods to their superiors there was always still plenty left to suit the rest of the district. She'd never wanted for anything in her life...well, not wanted for seriously, anyway. She had nothing against the leading city, but all the same she was glad that she had finally managed to clear away enough of the savageness in her head to acknowledge that they were the true opposition. Probably most of the other tributes had realized this already, because they hadn't been fond of the Capitol to begin with. But still; for the District One female, this was a brand new revelation.

A second later, though, her thoughts were back in the fight as she watched Clarisse attempting to attack Nash. A wave of desperation washed over Tope, and for a minute she wished they'd attack her instead of her ally. Just a couple of swipes, so they'd be more evened out and Nash wouldn't kick the bucket before Clarisse did. No, a voice inside her head hissed at her. You're selfish. Be selfish, dammit! Was it her conscience talking? Was her conscience really so screwed up that it would insist she not pay attention to the injuries of the only person in this godforsaken place she cared about? At this point in time it wouldn't be surprising if that was the case. But either way, she wasn't planning on dancing around in front of the other alliance and insist they go after her instead. So rather she just aimed to attack Clarisse once more, hoping that it would be the final time.

[attacks Clarisse, spear]
[dice=200+3000]
[deep gash forehead, 9]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
it's no fun but i've been here before
i'm far from home, && i'm fighting your war
not the way i pictured this
i wanted better things

.:.:.:.:.:.:.[/center]
[/blockquote][/size][/color][/justify]

[rand=122249067376124629258025192907172342241579542616366098476801912458]

Last Edit: Nov 3, 2010 21:05:37 GMT -5 by Lulu

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Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Nov 3, 2010 21:36:24 GMT -5

Quote

Post by shrimp on Nov 3, 2010 21:36:24 GMT -5

The world we knew won't come back
The time we've lost can't get back
The life we had won't be ours again

When I try to escape the confines of my blasted mind, it seems to keep coming on stronger. What's brought on these sudden memories? Is it the fact that I need something to fight for? No, I'm positive that my mother has perished already. Maybe it's to relieve those moments before my life ends in a flash. But so far, I don't have a scratch on me from before. It's Clarisse who's been slashed at, almost massacred in a bloody mess, the blood is still dripping down her wounds in a disgusting manner. That just proves to me that nothing will ever be the same, not when I've witnessed this kind of bloodshed. It's rather obvious that Clarisse is almost dead. So I'll be without her for the rest of my life, which will probably end sometime around tomorrow, if I'm lucky.

I can't... I can't concentrate. What's wrong with me? Clearly, the atmosphere has affected the other team as well. After all, we've all missed completely in the past few lunges. The toll of war has caught up on us - our attacks have become less on-the spot, we're simply attacking for the sake of attacking. It's become a repetitive gesture that we must follow, or we'll not live to see another mere second.

Finally, there's a break in the parrying as Clarisse's falchion flashes in the rising sun, the glistening pumpkin field becoming more golden with each minute. I guess that it's almost... picturesque in this moment, for the three of us are battling amongst a landscape of golds and oranges. No wonder the Capitol loves the Hunger Games so much. It's just like an action-packed adventure for them, and we have to give them all a show, or we'll be swiftly kicked into the dragon's lair. Then again, we're already in the dragon's lair, but you get the gist of what I'm trying to say.

The falchion flashes into my eyes one more time as it gouges into Nash's forehead. For a second, I think the battle's over - she's dead. But soon, it's apparent that this is not the case. Sure, the falchion made a nice mark in her face, the blood rushing out and everything. But Nash has stamina on her side - we've given here mere shallow wounds. She'll survive for a tad bit longer than Ms. Wilmith here.

Suddenly, it seems like time has frozen for a second, as we simply wait for the next one to attack. I meet Clarisse's gaze, and a smile appears on her face. What, is she trying... To be strong for me or something?

Stop being so self-centered Will.

But seriously, she might have done that.

Well, she may have been smiling for a different reason you know.

But... But what would she want to smile at me for?

Now's not the time to think of that, you have to help. She's going to die, and you have to do something about that.

Either way, it tells me that she's not ready to give up yet, and if the girl with so many battle scars appearing on her can give me a smile, then the least I can do for her is keep her alive, for just a little longer.

Now and again we try to just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it around 'cause it's not too late
It's never too late

But it's clear to me now, that if I don't kill one of them now, the girl is gone. For Topaz strikes, making an almost deadly blow on Clarisse's face, strikingly similar to Nash's. Once again, I have a deja vu moment as our attacks become increasingly similar in intensity and occurence. It's almost as if... As if we were all thinking on the same frequency. The thought flies by rapidly, and I have barely enough time to understand what it means, but it's clear to me that if Topaz can attack after missing, so can I.

What if I do miss? What if I can't save her? Of course I can't save her - this is the shucking Hunger Games for Ripred's sake! She's going to die, if not today than some other time in the near future. There's only 9 tributes left. 8 more must die. 8 lives will be ended right before our eyes.

And there's absolutely nothing we can do to stop it - we can only speed up the process in hopes that we don't go and ruin our chances at life.

Maybe we'll turn it around 'cause it's not too late
It's never too late
It's not too late, it's never too late

However there's still the slight chance that we may make it out of this intact. It's so slight, but it's there. I turn to the girl, and say the last words that I may ever speak to the tribute.

"It's been an pleasure to be allied with you."

Sure, it was corny, but it was the truth. She was level-headed, while I slowly dwindled to insanity the moment that death arrived to fetch Agatha, and Alkin as well. She was the one who was smart, the one who deserved to win. For aren't the strong and the logical ones supposed to have an advantage? But here we are, and the strong are clearly gaining an upper hand.

But maybe, just for once, the slightly logical ones can get the upper hand - just this time. So as I run towards Nash, the broadsword in my hand, I wonder, just for a split second, if this will be the strike that ends the battle.

And the broadsword flashes.

[[attacks Nash w/broadsword]]
[dice=200+1000]
1129 - Shallow Cut on Chest - 4.0

[rand=64136636125503076558834813524034707269013341181334024096537341775]

Last Edit: Nov 3, 2010 21:36:53 GMT -5 by shrimp

gm bourgeois decadence [aya]
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"GUNNERRRRR~"

Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Nov 3, 2010 22:24:03 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Nov 3, 2010 22:24:03 GMT -5

But I will hold on hope
and I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck
and I'll find strength in pain
and I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Nash Harvey —

Somehow, Nash knew that everything was riding on her accuracy. The other girl looked like she was about to keel over at any moment, just one more hit... but then, Nash wasn't doing too well herself. The deep gash that had been opened across her forehead was spilling blood down her face: into her eyes, her mouth. She spat a few drops of the stuff mixed with saliva, aimed at the boy tribute. Hopefully it would catch him in the face or something; she knew it probably wouldn't.

But that wasn't the place where accuracy mattered. Instead, Nash knew she had to make the attack against the other girl count. Because if she did miss? There was a good chance she herself would be dead. With that in mind, Nash put her full focus into the next swing, lashing out at the near-dead girl with her hunting knife.

[[Attacks Clarisse]]
[dice=200+2000]
[Shallow Cut on Stomach; 4.0]

ooc- it's a hit, that's a kill. And if stupid NaNo wants to give me my life back, I'll be adding more to this... but it won't, so I probably won't.

[rand=2276721091475337753504317044280470059417705051600936750066825188696]

Last Edit: Nov 3, 2010 22:25:40 GMT -5 by gm bourgeois decadence [aya]

{characters}

certified kindergartener
stranded in "beach" "city"
leader of the crystal gems

Tori Retired Staff 1,071 POSTS last seen May 7, 2013 21:56:19 GMT -5 Pigfarts, Pigfarts, yum, yum, yum.	Us Against the World [T&N v. L&T] Day 4 Nov 3, 2010 22:28:27 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Tori on Nov 3, 2010 22:28:27 GMT -5 Super awesome death post goes here.
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