`Frozen&Melting}[Day3;Fight]{HoBa-vs-Misfit Toys-

Sawyer Monaghan

Another night, and another anthem passes over head, this time displaying only a single face, that of Dysis from district seven. Dag. Making that girl cry is so far the only thing that I truly regret. And now she's dead. This sucks on so many levels. Did she cry again I wonder? Who looked into her tear-stained eyes as they brought a bloody weapon down for the final time? Or did they even have the courage to do that? That girl deserved better than she was given. On some level I think we all do. Even Michael Smith. Maybe. Best not to dwell on it.

The pain in my swollen foot stopped us from leaving the area; I'm glad Charas understands. The snowball fight definitely took the edge off though. In lieu of all the blood and death it's easy to forget that we're all just hormonal, red-blooded teenagers, not much more than kids. It's easy to see why so many tributes go crazy.

It's getting late and I think Charas is tired. it is my turn to keep watch after all. She curls up on the ground, and I am left to sit and make sure we aren't murdered and or eaten in our sleep. Well, her sleep, because I'm staying up to keep wa-
...


Did... did she just roll over in her sleep onto my lap? So awkward. Control yourself Sawyer. Never mind the fact that her head is in your lap, refrain from letting part of you rise up. Deep breaths. She looks like a little porcelain doll. I didn’t notice how full her lips are before, or the length of her eyelashes. I can’t help it and I find myself stroking the side of her face with my hand, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. How does she do it? How can she slay three people in the course of one day and then engage in light-hearted fun the next? She’s a different one alright.
_


I awake to sunlight hitting my eyes, and the bitter frost attempting to claw at my extremities. I must have fallen asleep during the night. A bad move, for the first thing I see is a pair of tributes; one male, one female, staring at me and Charas with as much apprehension as I must be staring at them. Before I can even say hello, Charas has charged at the brunette and stabbed her, and the battle is joined. I almost fail to notice that my foot has stopped hurting.

Grasping Charas’s bag I pull out the handful of throwing knives that had belonged to Sapphire Ross. My own weapon; a crowbar is very bulky and unwieldy. Hopefully, these knives will serve me better.

Sapphire, if you’re out there, guide my hand will you?

Attacks Damaris:
Thrown Knife: [dice=200+9000]
Shallow Cut on Back 4.0

The knife grazes her back as she turns to deal with Charas's blow to her thigh. Blood gushes from the wound inflicted and angry red marks are there to show injuries she has previously suffered. I almost want to mutter sorry under my breath. Almost.

```Shayde Lee Truedhart , , ,

Shayde gasped as he saw Charas come out of nowhere. There was no way to get to her in time. Damaris's wound was soon sliced open once more, this time by the District 12 tribute's blade. Shayde let himself ready himself to swing the hammer at her. But Damaris was getting attacked by Sawyer Monaghan. "No!" His voice was cracking with fear and hopelessness and his eyes were blurring everything in front of him. He couldn't control himself. He almost lowered his weapon and ran to Damaris but decided he must attack. Must try to ignore Damaris's pain.

He raised his hammer above his head and attacked Charas.

[Attacks Charas]{Club/Blunt:(Hammer)}
[dice=200+7000]
Bruised Right Collar Bone - 2.0 damage


But his emotions were running too high for his attack to land. It hit her collarbone feebly. He turned back to Damaris. Sawyer was still standing near her and Shayde had to ready himself for another attack. It was time to be brave. Time for heroics not for tears.

"Leave her alone!! She's had enough!"

ooc: Just wanted to say ..... F***ing blasted gay a$$ hammer!!! Ah... much better ...

Sawyer Monaghan

"Leave her alone!! She's had enough!" The voice belongs to the male tribute, who may or may not be from district nine. I stop to examine the girl, who is bleeding profusely from her thigh. The most best response that comes to mind is telling this guy that she'll have had enough when she's no longer breathing, but somehow that just seems too cruel.

The girl swings a small knife at my companion, who manages to block the strike with a blade of her own. Once again I have to wonder if District Twelve really is up to something, because Charas is extremely skilled in the art of fighting. My suspicions are further confirmed when I see the blade in Charas's hand inflict another gash on the other tributes arm.

She is in battle mode, the perky bounce in her stride replaced by a determined stance. I try not to look at either of my opponants faces. I don't know what I'll see in their eyes but I'm sure I won't like it. The urge to apologize overwhelms me again, and I quash it; selecting another throwing knife and testing it's weight before hurling it towards my foe.


Attacks Damaris
[dice=200+9000]
Knife Deep in Calf 8.5

The knife sinks into her leg and she goes down. I- I think I just killed her. Don't think about too hard Sawyer. Pretend that she's sleeping. If you know, sleeping people slept covered in blood spread-eagled in the snow, and okay I am thinking far tto much about this. I look at Charas and then at the boy questioningly. Does the fighting continue now? Or has enough blood been spilled? I desperately need to smoke as my hands have started to shake. With no cigarettes available, I might have to make a fire right now. Just to feel right. I need it's soothing power.


...


Oh God, what have I done?



*claims Damaris's Inventory*
- switchblade
- backpack
- empty water jug

```Shayde Truedhart , , ,

He guessed their rage had been growing against him the entire time he was crying in the snow, but he hadn't noticed. He wasn't sure he could look at them and stay sane and not attack in fury, so he never looked. He did not let his eyes leave the sight of his hands. They were burned by years of hard work and a bit blackened from the smoke of smoldering fires. Against the white snow, they were ugly. The right side of his face, wretched. He let his hand hold the right side of his face. It felt wrinkly and twisted to the touch. Ugly. The snow in front of him felt quite smooth and its crystals sparkled with and unheard joy. A least, Shayde couldn't hear their joy. Perhaps Charas and Sawyer had though, for they now had an easy kill on their record. Another bloodstain at their feet to keep as a souvenir.

Shayde felt the knife stab his arm but he only felt a little tingle and then blood gushing everywhere. No cries because it didn't hurt. No cries because at least they were killing him quickly. He could already see his blood pooling around him. Was this the end of him? Was his brother sitting at home laughing at his kid brother, calling him a crying baby or a wussy ass wimp as he rolled around in the snow, screaming for a dead tribute girl. Was it snow even? He couldn't feel the cold around him anymore, so he thought maybe the snow had been replaced with a fuzzy, white blanket. A huge blanket that would help him fall into his death. Yes. How peaceful, how comfortable, how beautiful. But how did he deserve that?

It was his fault that a girl was lying dead in the snow. His fault and he was letting himself take the easy way out. He was using death as an easy escape route for all the wrongs he had done. And that was like cheating. He was cheating himself out of pain and agony and a screwed up life he deserved to live. He wasn't even sure he could call it a life though. It was more like being part of the walking dead but the living could still see and talk to you and try oh so hard to get to know you. Or they could ignore him. He deserved that too. He should have no one left to care for him because that suggested that he deserved other's love. No. He didn't deserve any of that. But why not now rather than later? His life would be gone in a few days if he fled now anyways, so what was the difference? He may as well die now.

Shayde closed his eyes tight, not wanting to see the faces of the other teens around him. He might try o lash out at them if he looked. IN fact, he knew he would try to kill them if he looked in their eyes. So he kept them shut, trying to picture what death looked like. Or what death didn't look like. Shayde let himself lay face down in the snow, hands covering his head. Unless they enjoyed looking into the eyes of the ones they killed, he was pretty sure they wouldn't mind him rolling over for them. Like a pet. they owned him.

"Charas! Don't attack him again! Stop!" No, no, Charas, kill me! "I'm Sawyer." I know who you are and I wouldn't suggest saying it again ... "I don't know what your name is," Good. You don't deserve to learn my name. and I'm sorry..." Yep, yeah, sure you are. Tell Damaris that. "Look, "The cold hard truth is that she was going to die eventually." Excuse me? "I can't promise keep my friend here in check, but..." Come on, just kill me! Why aren't you killing me!? "Aw hell. I don't want to have to kill you too, but I will if I have to." Please, Sawyer, please just slice my throat and be done ... "What would you say to traveling with us?" Wait ... What? Did you -killed my friend and - Weren't you killing me? "I realize this may be difficult choice for you. Think carefully."

Shayde suddenly realized he wasn't going to get his wishes. They weren't going to kill him ... Not yet at least. They were going to leave him to live a little longer. And probably for their own enjoyment. Or maybe not ... Sawyer ... he had sounded, somewhat ... sincere. Were they actually inviting him to join them? Did they not realize what they had just done to him!? He kept his head down in the snow. Thinking. Contemplating. Weighing his odds. Wondering. Was it all just a hoax? He looked up, smelling and hearing the beginning of a fire. He was growing cold again and he actually felt the injury to his arm. Damn! Charas was a freakin' bitch! Or, at least her attacks were ... Whoa. These two tributes weren't nice people ... How could he even begin to think that?! They killed her!!

But he had killed that mutt, hadn't he? Or, at least helped and tried to kill that mutt. Who's to say it wasn't a nice puppy on the inside. Who's to say it didn't have a family or it didn't have any feelings? He had probably been in its territory and just aroused it with his noise and ... He was just like them. Just trying to beat the Game the Capitol was forcing them to play. They cared. They didn't want to do it. They were truly sorry. And everyone deserved to be seen as a real person. Not a person forced to become monstrous to survive, but a person who was just living. Not surviving, living. And so he made his choice.

Now was the time to show courageousness in the form of forgiving. He picked himself up, wincing from the pain in his arm. He walked over to the fire, ready to feel the warmth emitting from it. He hadn't been so cold as he was right now and a fire was just what he needed. He sat himself down around the circle, trying to be brave and let his eyes look upon the faces of Sawyer Monaghan and Charas Harp. They were teenagers like him, that's all they were. Nothing more. Nothing less. And they were now his new alliance.

"S-So, what do you say?"

"Shayde Truedhart. And I say thank you cause I'm in."

-------------------------

Although Shayde had wanted to remain by the fire and just sleep away as much of his pain as he could, he knew there was work to be done. He wasn't sure he would've been able to sleep anyways. Everything was starting to settle into his mind and beginning to create a story. His thoughts were those of anguish and revenge, but he knew not to embrace them, for those thoughts were incorrect and brutally wrong. So, they sat there, his mind filled with those evil things, but no action came to him. His hands and body would not allow him to kill. No matter how hard he tried to give into the urge to walk back to the fire and kill the tributes that now allowed him to travel with them, his good and sane state of mind told him to remain calm, to forgive and forget, to leave it all be. And so, that's what was happening. No killing.

They needed food. Shayde new it too, so he had ventured out to hunt. And create a weapon. He needed something besides a hammer. A spear would look much more threatening to an opponent and even if it was only made of wood, would still work much better than his blasted hammer. Perhaps if he had thrown a spear at Charas instead of a hammer, she would have more than just a bruise ... His rage was pushed back once more and again, he made sure the thoughts only remained in his mind. No one would suspect his growing rage and loathing. Not the cameras, not Panem, not Charas, not Sawyer, not anyone. He would appear to anyone like an injured and harmless tribute. A crying tribute over a girl's dead body. Harmless, useless, lifeless. Although that crying boy was still somewhere within him, it was becoming buried by the ever growing anger within him.

He noticed a bunny hopping in front of him. Time for some food.

Trapping
[dice=2]

The rabbit hopped away, untouched. He lay face down in the snow, watching it taunt him as it ran away. Did he really just attempt to dice for a rabbit? Shayde picked himself up and dusted some of the snow that clung to him. He really needed to get his head in the game ... He knew better than to dive for a rabbit. He needed a trap if he was to succeed. Maybe he should just make the spears and head back. He could get food later.

(Shayde had used First-Aid on himself. He has drank water from Sawyer's jugs, refilled them, and returned them. He has created 2 Improv. Weapons. {2 spears}