Dustbowl Dance {Avon Day One}

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing

Things weren't going quite as she had planned.

The water in the swamp seemed too gross to drink, so she had dumped it on a naked boy's head. She had seen bits of the naked boy that she really never wanted to see. Hopefully, ever again. In fact, she was certain that if she never saw a naked man again in her life, she would be pretty damn pleased. She was still cringing at the memory of it. Worse, while she had been busy with the crazy asshole, some bitch had stolen a roll of her bandages. Rude. She was seething actually. No one had dared ever steal from her before, and it pissed her off. People were being idiots left and right today. She didn't even know what the crazy boy was so angry about. he seemed to react strongly when she told him to put on some clothes. Maybe he was a nudist that didn't like being told what to do. Not that she cared, usually when she told someone to do something, they did it.

Grumbling to herself, she had packed up her bag, ignoring the new wounds. They weren't that bad. She had dealt with worse before, it was just completely annoying to be surrounded by crazy idiots. But still, she didn't want to stay in the swamp any longer, so she had taken a piece of cloth from the top of her sock using Lamp to stop the flow of blood on her calf, and gotten out of there. Besides, sand was piling up, and that was kind of creeping her out. This was a quell, there was no way that the arena would not be weird in one way. Her mind picked up the image of the boy again, and she cringed, leaning against the outside of the tower. She hoped her siblings hadn't watched that fight, because that would be the most awkward conversation later.

What if they were laughing about it? Back in one, maybe they were all laughing about the naked fight, and the weird boy. Some families could be talking about it, how the fights for the day went. They could be talking about what should have been done better, or what the best move of the day was. It was laughable to know that if she had been born into a career family, that might have been her. But they never got it, they never would, that the moves didn't get chosen, they choose themselves in the heat of the moment. One doesn't have time to think out here because if you take a moment to think, you're dead. And Avon felt like she had come close on numerous occasions. Oddly enough, the thought of dying didn't scare her all too much anymore.

Sure, she didn't want to die, there were many things she still wanted to do. but if she was going to die, she was going to die. There wasn't much Avon could do about it, but fight for as long as she could and plan to win. Reaching down the front of her jumpsuit, she took the pick out of it's place around her neck, and rubbed her thumb across it. Pulling it up to her lips, she kissed the colours on it. It was warm from resting against her body. She wondered if Riley would ever get this pick back, or if it would go into a museum when she died. She hoped he would. That he could have it to feel where her lips had touched against the smooth surface. Shutting her eyes, she hoped she could give it back to him herself one day.

The thought was comforting, but it seemed so useless to hope or dream about life after the games. It was such a present thing, being here. The best she could hope for was not dying in the next second. She couldn't think why cameras might be on her right now, but just in case, she mouthed out some words, like she used to do with her siblings when they looked at each other across the dinner table as her family sat around the dinner table. It was so loud the only way to be understood was to not speak at all. Smiling softly, she mouthed, "I left it in the library."

Reaching down again, she opened up her bag to get some more sunscreen out. As she pulled the backpack's lips open wide, Avon blanched, and stilled. Inside was a rather large snake, it was a wonder she hadn't noticed it's entrance. Standing completely still, one hand went to the voulge, even though it could not help her in this situation. The slow movement caught the snake's eye, golden orbs slitting in the light. Avon bit her lip, trying to move slow enough that the thing wouldn't strike. It was a possibility however, that the snake wouldn't pay any attention to her stillness and would attack anyway. Nerves getting the best of her, she gripped her voulge and lunged, just as the snake did.

[dice=8]

Pain gripped her as the snake hit her first. She had been stupid, that was the first thing she registered as the hurt filled her, seeming to boil her deep down into a pit. She fell to her knees, not letting out a sound, but simply clutching her hand. She could feel something spreading through her, the snake's venom maybe. A small sound split from between her lips as she curled up on the sands. It hurt, it hurt more than anything avon had experienced before. Biting on her lower lip, she tried to concentrate on moving away from the snake that was now slithering out of her bag. It seemed to lose interest in her however, and moved away. She lay on the ground, spasms rokking her body as the pain began to work it's way through her. she need antivenom, badly. That or she'd have to cut off her left hand.

But the pain, it was coursing, coursing, coursing through her. It burned, like a flame inside her. They were watching her suffer right now, back home. Watching her body writhe in agony. She couldn't subject them to that. Let them watch her be in pain. If she didn't get any antivenom in a few moments, she was going to die. Then she couldn't protect any of them. She wanted the pain to stop, her hand to stop feeling like it was burning alive. The snake hadn't left yet either. It was regarding her cooly from within itself, as if it were a bunch of coiled rope all done up in a small pile. She reached toward it, she would need rope for this next bit.

Cursing she pulled away. It was already getting to her, and she was making bad decisions because of it. She had to get rid of the poison. Positioning her lips over the small puncture marks, she began to suck the streaming blood out, going for the venom. But it was too late, it did nothing, and her legs kicked with the pain jolting through her like scurrying mice along her arm and into her brain. Narrowing her eyes in concentration mixed with frustration, she pulled her bag down, the contents spilling out over the sand. Getting wood, out, piece by piece, she lit a small fire with some difficulty. Almost moaning from the pain of it all, she concentrated on her task. Getting the fire going, she pulled Lamp over, and laid it on top of the flame, waiting for the metal to warm.

She didn't let herself think about what she was about to do as she lay beside the fire. Sweat licked down the sides of her oval face as she ignored the outside world. She was going to do it, to cut off her hand. She could simply die, it might be easier, but then...then....then. She couldn't remember why she had to live. It was an important reason, she knew, she knew, she knew it was. But she couldn't grasp why. Breathing hard, she watched the metal of the weapon go from a cool silver, to dull red, to bright red. She watched as the flame grew higher, and her insides began to recoil at what her brain knew she was going to do. Looking up once before pulling a piece of dry wood toward her, Avon smiled bitterly.

What she wouldn't do for them, she didn't know. But she had promised Riley and the rest that she would survive for them. She had never promised that she would come out unscathed. Letting her true emotion show for one quick moment, she said, words slurring in her pain, "Don't....don't watch this, please. Lightwoods, don't." Then carefully, she lay her hand down on the rough wood, pressing her arm into to to hold it study. Taking off her sock, she used it to tourniquet her arm to stop the blood flow. And smiling, she lifted the voulge, heat radiating of it, even as she held it far from her face. Grinning at the snake, she decided to name it Cain, she pushed the voulge down, the sharp edge meeting the burning flesh with a faithful grin.

She drew blood from her lower lip as the sharp edge bit quickly into her arm. Tissue, muscle, bone, and tendons were cut through as she went, and she couldn't help screaming. It was her first slip in a long time, the scream. But she couldn't contain it. It felt as if she were burning alive. Involuntary tears welled up and sprung from behind her eyes, moving down her sandy face in lines, creating paths and roads on the sun worn features. Avon's hand lay in the dirt. But she wasn't done, for it still bled. Taking the voulge again, she held it against the gaping, open wound, burning the flesh closed. It was a done thing. It hurt, oh god, it hurt so badly. Her screams of pain, turned into screams calling for Riley, Edana, Keela, Nettie, all of them. She wanted all of them.

The burn hurt, like hell. But she had no water to cool it with, only bandage. The voulge lay on the red sand, still her friend, her only friend. It was still her protector,it had saved her from the snake's venom after all. Dizzy with the pain, she lay beside the fire, stump of an arm cradled in towards her chest. She would need a way to protect herself. She couldn't punch anyone anymore with her left fist. She'd have to learn how to survive with one hand. Because she'd do it, Avon, would. For them, only for them. She could be like captain hook, from the stories.

These games, they might very well be the death of her. She had thought she could handle it, fighting all those other kids, and killing..... Oh god the killing. Blood, there had been so much, she had taken limbs, caused pain. She had killed, slashed and stabbed. The worst part was that she had enjoyed it. It made her wonder when she had become such a monster of a human being. She wished she had never lost it, that childlike innocence that had blossomed when her father had raised her.He had taken it with him, when he had gone. She had been wandering for ages, looking for her daddy.

The snake that had so willingly bit her earlier, slithered over, curling around her legs, and lay across them. His tongue flicked out to touch the leather of her jumpsuit, and he seemed satisfied. Slithering further in, Avon did not bother moving. She was too weak to attack him now, and he came across her still twitching left hand. Her nails were lovely, but they weren't her's anymore. In one foul swoop, the snake collapsed it's jaw and swallowed her hand whole. She had a bit of him in her, he had a bit of her in her. They were partners now, the snake and her. It seemed satisfied with the payment and curled up beside the flames, probably to digest it's meal. Avon herself took some bandage and unrolled it. Using five feet, she wrapped it around the stub, staring into the flames. She was surviving, for them. Only for them.

[ooc: Avon got bit by the snake, and received 6.5 damage. She then cut off her hand for a further 9.0 damage. however, she did it before the end of Day One! Resulting in halved damage.]

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