Singed (Daniella Lamonde and anybody)

ooc: if nobody is posting with me do I just post with myself? That's what I'm gonna do.

The rain doesn't fall for very long, about twenty more minutes after I get under the jacket. Slowly, I creep out from under the sweater, and see the grey clouds retreating, just as slow and cautious as I am. I manage to pull myself to my feet, and put my jacket on properly. Despite not being real rain, it did cool off the arena some. The geyser suddenly bursts into action, burning off any acid that may have fallen down the crack.


Still holding my pet rock in my hand I give my body a quick once over. The chemical burns on my arms and back are the worst, the skin being extremely tender and inflamed. I cough and some blood comes up with it. Throwing up managed to expel most of the acid from my stomach but my throat still burns and I suspect I cannot speak. I have a particularly bad burn on my cheek, the skin is an awful greenish grey colour around the red, and I can feel the burn all the way down to my bone. Overall my injuries are bad, but my hands escaped clean so I can still win these games.

"Now I do have to get some food." I tell the rock, my voice barely more than a rough whisper. I wonder suddenly if the cameras can hear me. If they're even following me right now. Probably not, fourteen other people are fighting off somewhere else. The rain was obviously a Gamemaker trap to make the games more interesting, but it was probably meant for someone else. I do make note of the feeling in the arena just before it rained, it could easily start again.

I set up a snare about two hundred feet from my camp area, on the other side of a hilly area. It's the kind of snare where a rock falls on the prey and crushes it's skull. I use Carson. It seems right. The capitol probably thinks I'm losing my mind, and maybe I am. But if that is what it takes to get me through the games, so be it.

[set snare]
[dice=2]
success.

I leap to my feet when I hear a snap and a muffled cry. I race over to my snare and check it out cautiously. It's got one of those mutt's that I'm pretty sure are called Words. I give a small victory whoop and manage to pick it up. I grab Carson and shove him in my pocket.

"What a good hunter you are!" I say in my best baby-voice, mangled as it is by acid. Slowly, I drag the fat mutt back to my camp area. How the hell am I going to cook this? I think. Suddenly the geyser explodes twenty feet away and I grin. I drag the Word over to the geyser, and then with a careful but forceful shove, heave it over the opening. Steam and boiling water still spurt out around it, and I have to dodge backwards to avoid the steam shooting out in all different directions. Maybe not the best way to get the meat cooked, but certainly the most creative.

I sit there on the ground for quite a while. I pick the food out of my teeth and drink more water. I try to sharpen the spikes on my mace with Carson, when that fails I have to make do with shining it. I use the hem of my shirt, some spit and a little elbow grease. If it were a spoon and not a deadly weapon I could almost pretend I was back home. I remember when I was a little girl and I used to love polishing my grandmother's utensils, the way they shone. You just had to put in a little effort to get something so rewarding.

I pull my few possessions out of my bag and give them a quick once over. My tarp and wire. Evan's pliers. The fishing line which doesn't really make sense, seeing as the only body of water is an acidic lake. I wouldn't want to eat anything that came out of there. I have my water jug that I will have to fill up before I leave the geyser. I will also have to hunt again, though hopefully I can get something better than a Word. I think about where I will travel, maybe through the rock field? I don't really have a burning desire to go past the dark holes in the earth beside them. You could fall in and never come out again.

There is still no one around. Probably beating each other senseless in another part of the arena. Might as well take advantage of the silence. I think, taking my sweater off and arranging it like a pillow on the dusty ground. I put the rest of my things in the satchel and pull the strap across my body. I clutch my mace tight in my hands, the spikes resting against my chest. It might not be the most comfortable way to sleep, but it's the only way I can feel safe enough to close my eyes.

I am standing in a cave, huge and echoing. A pool sits in the center, and from the high arced ceiling a few stray droplets fall and disturb the shimmering surface. All around the pool stand my fellow tributes, at least the ones who are still living. In the pool, quivering like reflections are the people who have died. Azulon stares up at me, his slightly arrogant smile playing across his face. Enigma, the lanky district 8 female, is staring at the still living Zack, about six feet to my left. Phoenix is glaring at all of us, her blonde hair falling gracefully around her. Evan, I have to force myself to look at him. His hair is clean and shiny, his skin smooth and unblemished. I choke back a sob, and kneel, allowing my fingers to touch the cool surface of the water.

"I will think of you always my friend." I say, though the words sound like they are being spoken through water. Evan nods and with a ripple in the water surface, his face fades. One by one I kneel over the reflections of the dead tributes, make my peace with them, or say something I remembered of them and with a ripple they too fade away. Finally it is just me and the other living tributes in the cave. I stare into each of their faces.
"Don't expect mercy." I say, before the dream swirls into black.

I jerk into a sitting position, into the semi darkness of twilight. How did time pass so fast? I shake myself awake and take another sip of water. I think back on my dream. There is only one thing I can think of about it at this point. I sincerely hope my dreams of the games stay that calm.