Ring of Fire // Day 3

garnet beauford d8 [earthling]
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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 11:49:41 GMT -5

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Post by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] on Jun 14, 2012 11:49:41 GMT -5

This is my December, this is me alone, and I just wish that I didn't feel
Like there was something I missed

For some reason the second night in the arena is easier, at least on me. I sleep soundly when it’s my turn, my left arm on top my chest, the starlight shining through my eyelids. My broken nose is only a dull hurt, which I’m grateful for. It’s my left arm that worries me as I drift off, as I wake up to the soft sunrise. The two wounds, so close together, are both angry, and I’m worried the second one is infected. It just hurts so much, a throbbing, distracting brightness that I can never quite shake. I can’t grip anything with that arm any more, but at least I can still use it to block. Or at least, that’s what Mr. Moreno told me.

As I shuffle around the campsite, distributing the leaves I’d collected (and eaten before to check their safety), I realize that these people are my friends, my family, my last support. I very nearly start crying as I remember what Mr. Liggens had to do to his pet. But it’s all to keep us alive longer, and that has to be all that matters. The sunrise lifts over the horizon as I sit beside Mahlah, sipping from one of the jugs, wondering what the orange-hued day has in store for us.

There’s a surprising amount of domesticity that happens while it’s still quiet. Eating, cleaning, even a few hushed conversations. I try practicing with my dagger, still trying to find the weight of it, especially now that Mahlah has tied my left arm to my chest with the bandana. It has a slip knot so if we are attacked, I can easily release it from its bindings and use it for the only thing it can be used for. In the pit of my stomach there is a greasy fear that I will lose it forever, but I might lose a lot more than that, before the end.

There is movement and even after only a few days we all know the drill. Mr. Moreno and Liggens are on their feet first, ready, but Mahlah and I are not far behind. The sand is slippery in a way I never expected. It takes sure footfalls and twists my ankles, and the grit gets into my cuts, makes new ones, tears my flesh asunder. It stings and distracts me, even though I know it shouldn’t. I back off a little, take a look at my alliance, my family. This is life full speed, I realize, the living and the dying. We’re going to get ours so much faster than almost anyone else in Panem, but at least we know it’s coming.

Well, some of us do. The others, I’m not so sure about, as I size up our opponents. No time to dally about it though; the dagger in my hand is slick with sweat and I still haven’t decided how I want to hold it, what way would be best. I just now I need to keep it close, if I want to breathe the salty air a little longer. I don't look, I don't think, I just attack as Mr. Moreno has taught me.

[[ Elon attacks Noreen; dagger ]]

[dice=200+2000]

[[ Stabbed in Back -- 9.0 damage ]]

It's a flash of dark hair, a curtain, a storm, and my dagger plunges in between bones. I am getting better, more accurate, and I wonder if that's the worst thing I've ever done. It's only as I'm pulling the dagger towards me that I realize two things; first that Mahlah has freed my left arm so I can block, and the second that I know the girl I have just stabbed - no, the woman.

"Mrs. Lexington," I manage, choke on her married name as I freeze, letting my family rush forward to the next attack.

banner credit: it's a love story
lyrics: linkin park my december

[rand=3847565022297203571427526138722928215696010738615657343424391001]

Last Edit: Jun 16, 2012 19:47:23 GMT -5 by garnet beauford d8 [earthling]

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 12:00:34 GMT -5

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Post by laphae8ash on Jun 14, 2012 12:00:34 GMT -5

Filler filler filerr about the night before.

Suddenly I feel a sharp stab in my back as I turn to see my district 10 compainion litterally stab me in the back. It seems his brother has taught him well. The scream rips through me as I try to run off and swing my pike at Jae Moreno. Even though he's towering over me and tried to hit on me at the party I want him gone. He scares the piss out of me in every way.

attacks Jae
Spear: [dice=200+3000]
Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage

[/blockquote][/blockquote][rand=85115945711731919096000152640045758942667394876515644707647152245]

Last Edit: Jun 14, 2012 12:01:25 GMT -5 by laphae8ash

Spesh
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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 12:15:14 GMT -5

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Post by Spesh on Jun 14, 2012 12:15:14 GMT -5

After the boredom of day two, where I did not get a kill, I feel as if I am almost empty. The desire to get a kill is there, but yet it is just not happening. We ran into nothing but that one boy from twelve and that one girl from a district close to me, so I feel like there is nothing to do at all. LeBlanc, on the other hand, he is not happy. He only wishes the best, he only wants the best.

The longer I spend in the arena, the more at home I am and the less I want to leave. I feel rather calm. I was easily able sleep last night, and I expect to be able to sleep tomorrow night.

Looking up, I notice that the others have seen something and decided to attack. So I go and do the same.

[Attacks Noreen w/ Pike]
[dice=200+3000]
[3127 -- Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage]

[rand=631725691216272345447597037634124101249482460956117001368551267617]

Last Edit: Jun 14, 2012 12:16:16 GMT -5 by Spesh

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 12:20:24 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Jun 14, 2012 12:20:24 GMT -5

This is a filler because my finals are today. Sorry!

Jae attacks Nonnie, although admittedly he feels a little bad about it.
[dice=200+2000]
2100 -- Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage
(Knife)[rand=49994407344961821474502068990091261756221639017049934135443816137]

Last Edit: Jun 14, 2012 12:21:05 GMT -5 by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 12:23:08 GMT -5

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Post by cyrus on Jun 14, 2012 12:23:08 GMT -5

When the world had grown still and all was settled, Cyrus had managed to calm himself. He could do nothing but think of how stupid he had been to volunteer for the games. His reason was selfish—to gain freedom—but he had not considered the cost. This wasn't the freedom he thought he would get, but rather, a nightmare of what it was supposed to look like. The boy that was so logical, the boy that was so out of tune with his own emotions, this aspy, he couldn’t have possibly known what it would feel like to fight to the death against twenty-three other children. Instead he had vowed to keep to his own principles. He would respect life, he would protect the good, and he would battle back those that had the gall to kill for the sake of killing. And he would be rewarded. He would be rewarded because the world was just and he was good. Because that was how Cyrus Malloc’s world worked: he did not see the shades of gray that fell upon everything, only the black and white of what he thought they should be.

But Fawn was dead now, and he was left as the leader of a group in a shambles. Was he even a leader? He had taken them to a different part of the forest to rest, but it felt as though they were all strangers now. Cyrus didn’t want to talk about anything with them. He didn’t want to have to feel anything else, not the hurt, not the confusion, and certainly not the reality of what they were up against. They had fallen apart against a group of murderers, and all that Cyrus had managed to do was stumble around helplessly. He wouldn’t have faulted them if they left him in the middle of the night. It certainly didn’t feel as though the choices he was making were of any good to any of them. When Pan pressed him where they would be going next, Cyrus simply nodded towards the edge of the forest.

They would have to head back out across the sands and away from this place. He didn’t want to trap them in the giant sandcastle if that’s where the other group was. Instead they’d make it back to the cornucopia and regroup there. That seemed smart to him—perhaps there were things that people had left behind—and so he decided that this would be their next course of action. When did anyone ever decide to start listening to me?

[/i] Cyrus pondered in the still of the night. At home, he was a shadow that people often didn’t see. He was a boy with aspergers—they didn’t know its name there, but it made him different, strange even—and so it was easier for him to be seen and not heard. But the games had forced him into the spotlight, and here he was, giving orders, trying to see it through another day. He was the first watch once again, as was his duty, even as heavy as he felt. Only now his eyes were closing, and having paced around for some time, wasn’t able to stay awake any longer. He found a soft patch of earth, away from the others, and laid down.

As morning was breaking, Cyrus awoke suddenly, still clasping his harpoon. He hadn’t dreamt anything that night. He hadn’t thought of Fawn, or of his family at home, or even a pleasant evening with Tatum. Groggy as before, he started moving along with the rest of them, silent as the day before. What could he tell them? What kind of spirited talk would this be boy able to give them to raise them up as before. All he could think of was what his mother had taught him. That pain in death wasn’t forever. That they would all one day be released from this and that there would be something for them even after they had shuffled off this mortal coil. And he believed it all, because Cyrus was simple, and Cyrus trusted. He trusted and he believed. He was good hearted, still, thinking that one of them—one of the three of them—could live through this to the end.

-----
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
-----

[/i][/center]

His frame was still heavy as he exited the forest behind the two of them. He could see the golden horn, and pondered for a moment if there was anyone around. But his vision was not the best, and he could not know until he was too late. Once again he had chosen poorly, and Noreen was to bear the brunt of this attack. He watched in horror as they circled her like vultures. They could not strike her down before he had the chance to do something. It is time to be brave! You have to do something! You can’t just fall down and let her die! DO SOMETHING![/i] He was screaming on the inside, and though this legs were heavy, he began to run toward the pack. He did not want to end a life, but he would save Noreen. For her children. For her future. For a life that needed to be fulfilled.

[Cyrus valiantly rushes in but can’t attack because he doesn’t have stealth… d’oh]

[/justify][/blockquote][/size]

Last Edit: Jun 14, 2012 16:10:09 GMT -5 by cyrus

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 15:30:18 GMT -5

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Post by rook on Jun 14, 2012 15:30:18 GMT -5

p a n d o r a + w o o d a r d s

_{so don't you worry
they tell me hell is
the coolest place to be
this time of year}

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

_{Nothing matters anymore. I've stopped caring about myself, stopped thinking about surviving and getting home, because for once in my stupid, insignificant, little life, I have someone. Not just someone, someone I care about. The dozens of District Eight girls I made out with and slept with, they never meant anything... I never felt anything... But now? I've got a strange sensation running though me, that kiss... That one kiss meant more to me than anything else in the world. It proves I'm not a heartless bastard, Pandora Woodards has feelings.

And now, as Cyrus, Noreen and I walk towards the Cornucopia I feel happy. Sure, we could be heading to our death, but I really don't care anymore. I've proven to myself that I mean something... And that matters... That really does matter. I feel like a real person, not a fraud... Not the scumbag that turned his nose up at his Twin and left him to carry the family on his own. Not the moron who used girls for personal pleasure. Neither of those things, I've proved I can care. I care for Destiny, and in that emotionally fueled moment, I meant something... We both did.

We break into the open, the Cornucopia our goal. Cyrus said it was a good strategic point to move forwards. The center of the arena gave us many options, and we could find an odd tribute hanging around to pick off. We're all hoping there is some kind of aid or weaponry still lying around, but part of me thinks that the Careers are going to be here still. Experience is proof, the Careers always establish their base near the Cornucopia, to fend of scavengers. Is that what we are? Scavengers?

I'm right. The Careers are here and are on us before we can get near the golden horn. My feet pound hard on the soft sand as Jae, Elon, Walker and Mahlah meet us. I hear Noreen scream out and I know she's hit. I stop running for the Cornucopia and spin on my heels to face the fray.
No more running
It's time to fight. It's time for Pandora Woodards to show what he showed the Gamemakers. It's time to show the other tributes exactly why I got a Nine in training... It's time to show I'm Mister Reckless, with a capitol R.

My hand moves to my makeshift pocket-sheath where my delicate Rapier sits, yet to slice into tender skin. The most I've done is punch Elon in the bloodbath, this time I'll slit a throat. I practically snarl as I draw my blade, it glimmers in the pulsing sunlight. This is where we wage war. I could die, but I'm ready, more ready than I was when I entered these Games... Because I picture Destiny, the way she said goodbye, the way we held each other and I know one thing for sure: I'll be seeing her again.

Because now I have something to fight for.

"Hey, Walker... Pick on someone your own size!!" I yell in a snarky voice, walking powerfully towards him as he strikes Noreen. They're ganging up on her, a tactic I've seen before when Fawn was murdered. Well, it's not happening again.

Forgive me Ripred... But I've lost too much...

And with that, I lunge at Walker, withholding nothing. I strike to kill.

[[Attacks Walker, Rapier]]
[dice=200+1000]
[[Severed Right Ear -- 8.0]]
[[Blades, 1.0]]

I slice his ear clean off and it feels fantastic. I was going for his throat but my strike wasn't clean. I turn to face whoever comes at me. They know what I can do, if they're smart, they'll back off.

But I doubt it.}

_{narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: Right Chums up, let's do this. LEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYY-
theme: “Raise Hell" Kids in Glass Houses.}[rand=290663286324439749511555504155846265686412739843958366436147540398]

Last Edit: Jun 14, 2012 15:33:02 GMT -5 by rook

an hourglass is just a glass with sand inside

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 18:25:46 GMT -5

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Post by sbeeg on Jun 14, 2012 18:25:46 GMT -5

Mahlah Shea

Yet another sleepless night in the Arena for the tiny twelve year old of District Three. The face of the District Twelve boy was paraded across the sky and Mahlah had to look away, turning over to curl up next to Elon. She had done her best with her brother’s wound but it ran too deep and bled too much for her to be of much help- even after she calmed down from the initial fight. It was horrible, how Jae had knocked the boy down and he just didn’t get back up. The girl tried to tell herself that he got what was coming to him- he had attacked Elon, after all. Her mind was in a moral struggle and refused to let rest come easily. She got a few hours in, just enough to make it through the next day. Even asleep, her fingers were tangled with Elon’s- his unhurt side, that is. Even on her shift of the watch, her bow across her lap with an arrow ready, Mahlah’s free hand was lying in Elon’s palm.

When morning finally came, the small family had a fairly normal breakfast. Although Mahlah would have never have cleaned a blade back home at the dinner table. Mahlah felt a certain fatigue hovering over the group. With the passing of Walker’s rabbit, Elon’s injury and the forever haunting image of Jae’s missing eye the group looked pretty ragged. She put in her work though, making sure Elon was not in too much pain and adjusting his sling- that was one thing she remembered from the training center. Otherwise, Mahlah felt like more of a burden than an asset. What group of able teenage boys would want a scared child on their side? She made sure to stay out of the other’s way, sticking closely to Elon- on his good side- and lazily holding his hand. Compared to the death hold that she had first held onto the District Ten boy’s fingers, her grip now was nothing.

The golden cornucopia looked completely different now that Mahlah was not dodging attacks and grabbing desperately at items. It was empty now, almost looking depressed. The sand that surrounded had the same tone- shifting underfoot in a solemn dance ready to bring down anyone who couldn’t stay in step. It took a while to get used to the shaky ground and Mahlah was practically holding Elon up at times. Then she saw them, three worn looking tributes- she recognized them from the party the night before the Bloodbath. How long ago had that been? It felt like forever.

Elon was the first to lunge in, slipping his fingers from hers before she could stop him, and wedged his dagger in between Nonnie’s shoulder blades. A gasp escaped the little girl’s mouth, watching as her other family members took turns slashing at the girl. Then one of the other opposing boys (District Eight, maybe?) stepped forward and brought his blade down- severing Walker’s ear from his head. The blood flow was abundant, and Mahlah had to turn away. They’ll hurt you if you don’t move struggling to even breath, the girl calmly reached for her switchblade They’ll hurt Elon.

That was enough. The party was over and this was the Games, not matter how polite or nice someone seemed in the Training Center, everyone was a threat in the Arena.

[Attacks Noreen with switchblade]
[dice=200+2000]
[Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage]

She thought Elon had said something, but his eyes looked so far away and... scared? Guilty? Whatever the emotion, she stuck by his side, ready to slash at anyone who tried to come near.

[rand=9507901333272457833968537859618779631155775859958355833559762686]

Last Edit: Jun 14, 2012 18:27:56 GMT -5 by sbeeg

garnet beauford d8 [earthling]
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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 14, 2012 19:33:21 GMT -5

Quote

Post by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] on Jun 14, 2012 19:33:21 GMT -5

This is my December, this is me alone, and I just wish that I didn't feel
Like there was something I missed

A part of me is dead already, whatever part of my personality that resided in my left arm. It was a good part, I think, the part that felt normal human emotions like empathy and care for another's humanity. It isn't that I don't know Mrs. Lexington; I know her so well, for the brief time we spent together in the train, for the passing conversations we had on the way to the bathroom in our shared apartment, after her surgery. I know that we found a certain companionship over the strangeness of the Capitol, Mace's taciturn nature, the abundance of food. I know her, but she already feels like a memory.

I mean to say something, to apologize, but the only word on my lips is another name. "Mahlah?" I call after the girl as her switchblade shines in the downpour. It glints, coated in blood one moment and cleansing water the next. There isn't time to think, to do anything other than move, like Mace taught me. And the other boys are coming after Mr. Liggens, taking a trophy body part. Despite the damn warmth a coolness snakes up my spine as I shadow Mahlah. I realize the sight of Mr. Liggens' ear on the sand reminds me of Aesop, of the stories Mace used to mumble in his sleep, things that the Capitol's cameras never dared to air. I'd found his obsession strange at the time; now I don't know what to think.

So I don't. I just follow Mahlah's lead, taste bile in my throat, and attack.

[[ Elon attacks Noreen; dagger ]]

[dice=200+2000]

[[ Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage ]]

banner credit: it's a love story
lyrics: linkin park my december

[rand=499262576457113279612277401611255722230183891955650103632360697]

Last Edit: Jun 16, 2012 19:48:20 GMT -5 by garnet beauford d8 [earthling]

credit gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan

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laphae8ash guest	Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 15, 2012 16:10:43 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Back to Top Post by laphae8ash on Jun 15, 2012 16:10:43 GMT -5 Filler cause my kids are still sick and they come first but I don't want to hold up the thread. Attacks Walker with Spear [dice=200+3000] Shallow cut on thigh 3.5 [rand=0284057650715112737867486523464327718275485094637544878114014864]
	Last Edit: Jun 15, 2012 16:11:28 GMT -5 by laphae8ash

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 15, 2012 17:09:43 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Spesh on Jun 15, 2012 17:09:43 GMT -5

Fighting is fighting. It is what it is. I love the adrenalin that comes with it, and I thoroughly enjoy everything about it. When my spear enters my enemies, I feel nothing but total joy. It makes me happy to cause these others pain, knowing that it will help me win what I deserve to win. In truth, I just have no worries at all about anything. I know for a fact that I will survive these games, so I have no problem feeling comfortable in them. All I have to do is just be happy and relax.

[Attacks Noreen w/ Pike]
[dice=200+3000]
[3106 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage]

I also pick up my ear, even though i am freaking out i refuse for it to be muttation food.

[rand=52550185511231581504614722507695609237117289873575541403220124597]

Last Edit: Jun 19, 2012 14:51:30 GMT -5 by Spesh

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 16, 2012 1:22:42 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Jun 16, 2012 1:22:42 GMT -5

We're the lifers here till the bitter end
Condemned from the start

[/i][/font][/right]

I've found the trick to staying sane: don't stop moving. That first night when my mind ripped itself apart with questions, I had too much time on my hands. The Arena holds an eery silence, especially after the sun sets, as if the Gamemakers are saying, "We want to drive you mad." I mean, aside from the murder.

It doesn't work, though, because I've found the trick. After I killed Killian - oh, that's fun to say. Killed Killian! Killied Killian! Killed Killian! Killed Killian! Killed Killian! - my blood was positively boiling. I tried to contain my excitement, you know, because my alliance members were watching and I didn't want to seem like a lunatic, but smiles popped up anyways. Walker was somewhat annoyed with me, goodness knows why, giving me looks. Not sure what I did to make him mad. Took the kill, maybe? (Killed Killian!) Which makes sense, seeing as Walker's nearly as bloodthirsty, if not more. But he's different than I am - he's got this bizarre love for animals, and yesterday he killed his pet. I almost cried.

(Killed Killian!)

Something about his death sparked an energy underneath my feet. It's a nice distraction, thinking I'm not a failure, after all. I've done something with my Games. I'll be better than my brother. Goodness knows I enjoy the distraction, anyways. For a while, I even forget the gnawing pain where my eye used to be.

But now.. now I don't feel a thing, except perhaps the cut in my leg. I am apart from pain and thoughts and feelings and it drives me forward, my feet slowed down just a little by the sand. It's such a nuisance, not quite like dirt, but less stable. It requires more work in the legs and allows exhaustion to attack you faster, which makes me glad for my training. I can keep moving, keep attacking.

The alliance swarms at me, although only the girl has attacked. I half expected the rest of them to rush at me, a single target out of four to aim for a kill, but instead they switch. Walker. It's not me, but it's him. I don't like any of it. Can't they just die? Although, for a moment, I'm impressed by the boy who tears away Walker's ear.. until I realize I'm not supposed to be impressed by such things.

I'm supposed to be angry.

Anger, anger, anger. What makes me angry? Questions, feelings, stupidity. Reyes, and my other siblings.

I channel that anger, a step away from my opponents. And then I leap and Noreen, the girl I may or may not have kissed in the party, blood from my previous attempt still dripping from the knife I ripped out of Killian's cold hands.

[Attacks Noreen - Knife]
[dice=200+2000]
[2007 -- Shallow Cut on Forehead -- 4.5 damage
(Knife)]

[/color][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[rand=0281628932030826345021310749652277340828414223081858514586462278808]

Last Edit: Jun 16, 2012 1:23:20 GMT -5 by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]

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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 17, 2012 20:25:59 GMT -5

Quote

Post by cyrus on Jun 17, 2012 20:25:59 GMT -5

And what was this all really about, then? This was just another battle of the strong against the weak, of the organized versus chaos, of determination versus hope. And just like they were before, this group of children struck out at an innocent victim with no remorse. Surely one of them might have said something to the effect of sorry, but what were such empty platitudes when they were stabbing a woman in the back? Some of them even seemed to take delight in the blood spilled upon the sand, and sickeningly feasted upon the loss of yet another soul. For that was what the arena appeared to be doing to all of them, warping and changing them in a way that would be forever: twenty-three of them would be forever young, trapped in this youthful horror.

“Leave her alone!” Cyrus cried out as he raced towards them, wishing his feet were faster and his heart stronger. He gripped his harpoon more tightly now, knowing that he had to strike. May the world above open up and protect her, may she last a hundred thousand days after this, may she finally get a chance to walk the sands beyond this…

[/i] His mind raced as he tracked through the sands, praying that Nonnie wouldn’t already be dead by the time that he reached her. Pandora was already there in a flash, and Cyrus couldn’t help but smile as he say the brave boy slash his sword downward, liberating the ear from one of the boy’s. He wasn’t delighting in the violence displayed, but rather, the goodness and bravery Pandora so fearlessly mustered. If only I could be more like him.[/i]

Cyrus didn’t have the power to resist whatever the arena was doing to them, but he had promised himself that he would not change for the worse. No, Cyrus didn’t want to be covered in blood, he didn’t want to be renouned as the boy who sliced off an ear or arm in a battle. Rather, Cyrus would rather tumble down into the sand, splattered with blood, having saved Pandora or Noreen from an unreasonable death. He would have honor. He may not have been able to have much in the arena, but he could promise himself that he would not fill his heart with wickedness. It was why he never struck first—whether this was foolish or not—and he would strike those that damaged the goodness of the world. Rather, this would be what in Cyrus’ mind appeared to be good and innocent.

He could think of no greater goodness than Noreen Lyvers. A woman that had been chosen with a whole life in front of her, only to be ripped away from the man that she loved and eyes that would never see her face as anything more than a distant memory. No. Cyrus was beginning to understand that prayer wasn’t the only thing that was needed. He couldn’t come to expect the kindness of random strangers, nor could he believe that the world was going to work in such a neat and orderly way. The world was a mixture of confusing lies and truth, of people who said one thing but did another, of men and women that never knew the whole truth and it was wearying. It was a world that the games had opened for simple Cyrus, the boy who believed in everything, and had started to rattle his foundations.

But though he’d seen death—and perhaps he was to see it again here and now—he would never shake his faith. Because even if I cannot save her, even if I cannot get to her before her last breath, I will do all in my power that her children… no, that everyone knows how wonderful she was.[/i] Cyrus would not let the hope in his heart dissolve. He would rather have walked into the sea and be swallowed up whole than to have allowed for the darkness of the world to overtake him. For here he could prove his worth and his mettle, here he could show the men and women of Panem what he truly believed.

He saw the same boy that Pandora had struck lash out again, this time missing Nonnie. So it is that we can bring about the truth, that we can know our own strength through this. Please, guide my hand and let it be true. Please, let her live. Let her live and let her children live, and let her get home. Please, guide me, oh Lord, please…[/i] And then it was time. It was time for his hands not to shake and to become a man. He should’ve been angry. He should’ve been fueled with rage that they were attacking and killing his friend. Yet all Cyrus felt was peace. That he could do something, that he could serve as her protector. Please… I ask of you…[/i]

[Cyrus attacks Walker with his Harpoon]
[dice=200+3000]
[3144--Block, 0 damage]

And of course, his Harpoon did nothing. Nothing at all. But Cyrus was standing with them now, whether or not he could do anything at all to save Noreen. For now it was the three of them against the world. He looked to Pan with wild eyes. Cyrus could be brave, and he would be.

[/blockquote][/size][/justify][rand=718065317953005438999340264126662240774587262421814906691620126367]

Last Edit: Jun 17, 2012 20:33:41 GMT -5 by cyrus

rook
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who needs another thing to be sad about?

Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 18, 2012 10:12:38 GMT -5

Quote

Post by rook on Jun 18, 2012 10:12:38 GMT -5

p a n d o r a + w o o d a r d s

_{so don't you worry
they tell me hell is
the coolest place to be
this time of year}

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

_{I glare at the ear, deciding I'd like a souvenir. I lean down and pick the disfigured body part from what is now blood stained sand and I hold it to the light. I smirk and pocket the thing, knowing Walker will be pissed off as well as in sufficient pain. Yet still they go for Nonnie. They still target the mother of twins. It fills me with a sour guilt that I'm not intervening, instead revelling in the feeling of slicing some kid's ear off.

This fighting, it's pointless. I look to Cyrus and know that we need to get out of here. Noreen's on death's door and we're ridiculously outnumbered. We're going to die right next to her unless we get moving. Is that what she would want? Is that what I want? I've grown attached to Cyrus and Noreen, they've saved my life and I've saved theirs, it's a unique bond that's not really describable. To die with her... Next to my battle partner... Would it be considered honourable? A fight to the death?

Don't be stupid, you need to be thinking about yourself...

I'm right. She doesn't matter, if I want to win I need to be selfish. These past twenty four hours I seem to have forgotten that I'm here to win, not to make friends, but it's all I've done. The confrontation with Destiny's group, saving Cyrus and Noreen, that kiss. It's all made me forget why I'm in here, what I'm here to achieve. I feel bad because in all honesty, I've forgotten about my other half, about Rubik.

I've forgotten my own brother, simply because I'm so focused on staying alive... All these alliances and treaties, I feel if one is broken, this entire arena will fall like a house of cards. We've got a ceasefire with Destiny's group, they've probably got tie-ins elsewhere. It's all power play, politics... It's not normal.

You can't water down death... Nothing in here is normal...

I turn my attention back to battle, where Noreen is being surrounded. Me and Cyrus stand like idiots and I'm moving at the same time as him. He goes for Walker, but misses, so I decide that Elon is my target. He and I never really mixed at his 'party' and he singled me out in the Bloodbath, it's time to do more than punch him in the arm. I lunge at him.

But I mess it up.

My foot catches on something mid-run, possibly my other foot or a rock of some kind and I'm off balance. Elon's out of reach and I'm falling into the circle where Noreen lies on the ground. My heart stops in that moment as I realize what's about to happen. I can't stop myself as-

[[Attacks Noreen, Rapier]]
[dice=200+1000]
[[Deep Gash on Neck -- 10.0]]
[[Blades -- 1.0]]

My blade goes straight at her neck. Straight down the side making a huge gaping hole of blood. Shock fills my face and I'm on my knees, unmoving from the position I struck her with.
"No... No, no, no..." I mutter, shaking her with my other hand. She's not moving. She has to be, she has to be alive. I-I... I'm frozen with panicked breathing, extremely vulnerable at this point.
"Stay with me...!" I mutter, holding her face, "Oh Ripred, I'm so sorry!!" I say, scrambling backwards on my hands and knees, desperately trying to get to Cyrus. I'm next to die, I can feel them closing in on me.

Because I'm a murderer...}

_{narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: This wasn't an easy decision, nor a popular one, but the Games are the Games... There are two of us, and we're desperate o-o
theme: “Raise Hell" Kids in Glass Houses.}[rand=34407463180832565632973679341375886085764109157037165141846053302]

Last Edit: Jun 18, 2012 10:21:13 GMT -5 by rook

an hourglass is just a glass with sand inside

laphae8ash

guest

Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 18, 2012 15:00:09 GMT -5

Quote

Post by laphae8ash on Jun 18, 2012 15:00:09 GMT -5

I never wondered what dying was like. I never thought of the pain or the vacant feelings slipping away. I just figured it would be fast and over, but not here. Not in the games. It was bloody and cold and torture. I could hear my screams that were echoing around us, but no one seemed to care, they just kept coming at me, over and over and over again the blades and metal slicing my skin. The white tshirt was so pristine and beautiful three days ago is now crimson and soggy. Wasn't red supposed to be such a beautiful color, like roses from my garden or ripe tomato on the vine, but now it just looks like death. I feel like death. This has to be death. Lightening and thunder rage around us, giving a harsh soundtrack to the end of my life. In District 10 the storms were a sign of something new to come, a way to wash away the darkness and dirt...but this storm, this was something else.

The movements around me are so flurried, so harsh, so fast that my eyes can't keep up with them. My eyes lock on the little girl, so much like what I picture Briar will look like in a few years. Her dark hair, and inquisitive eyes. I can't stop watching her. In all this darkness she has such beauty, is this what Briar is headed for? Is this what that beautiful little girl is going to have to do? Tears spill like my blood on the sand, but not for the pain, for the fact I was selfish and stupid enough to bring children into this world. My parents attitudes finally make since. Watching her face all I can say is "Briar, Briar I'm so sorry." I want to hug her, I want to hold her I want to take her away from this. She doesn't deserve to be here, to be the one taking lives..."Briar why don't you just run! They can't hurt you if they're hurting me!" I scream in confusion at the young girl as she runs slashing me with her knife.

I don't understand how they can just keep coming at me, the wound from Elon is going to be the one that ends up killing me. The knife punctured the organs under the skin, the others are just flesh wounds doing nothing more than draining the blood from my body. They could be fixed, the stabbing couldn't. I was already a goner and they wouldn't let me die in peace. Even Elon, so gentle with me kept coming after more, as if he hadn't done enough. As if he wanted to keep me from the twins? Would they have been so vicious had I still had them inside of me? Would they have been so eager for my death? It doesn't matter in the end I'm nothing more than a useless shell of a woman who could never be who she was meant to be. The eyes of the twins came back to haunt me between the flashes of metal. They will never understand that I had to leave them, they will never be able to live a normal life...and for what?

All of this is my fault. Had I never taken that job at the Anderson's I would've been fine. My world would've been the same repetitive motion until eventually I died old and alone, instead of here screaming out for the children I'll never know and the lover who will never hold me again. Why can't I just die already, why do they drag this out. Chills start to set in as I can't control my limbs through the shaking. "Cyrus making it stop! Make it stop! Just kill me! Just make all this stop!" I beg feeling my lungs start to pool and fill with my own blood. Its like I'm stuck in the swimming hole back home, foot caught in a log and the water rushing to fill the space that only belongs to air. My knees give out and I fall with a thud as the attacks keep coming. They're like the wolves over a stray pig as they tear my flesh and rip the skin. I feel the small particles of sand sticking and itching the woulds as no one stops, no one cares. Looking to Elon I feel the wetness on my cheeks as he strikes again, "Why Elon? Why are you just like Mace? I thought you were different!" I choke. The train ride was a lie, this all was a lie, and I knew in the end it would be, he was no different than Mace. Lightening strikes as I just keep watching him, lighting up our face in strange planes and shadows, almost otherworldly, almost as if we're already ghosts of our former selves.

Letting go of it all I scream, over and over I scream out the names of the people I love as the thunder crashes. Over and over till I feel the world around me started to fade, as I was no longer in the sandy hell of the arena with the blood soaked strands of my hair sticking to my face.

I was in the beautiful meadow behind the Anderson's ranch, flower in full bloom, birds singing, sun beating down on me with a cool breeze to keep me comfortable. In front of me Jack was playing our children running circle around his knees singing songs and chasing butterflies. "Daddy! Daddy! Look at the flowers! They're as pretty as Mama!" Briar called out plucking a few and running towards me. Jack's smile lit up his face as he said "I know, but not quite, your Mama is the most beautiful thing in the world" The heat rises to my cheeks as he bends down and lets his lips touch mine. There is no limp to his walk as he runs off after Joshua who has gone a little too far into the tall grass with a laugh. Briar's small hands weave the wildflowers in my hair as she wraps her arms around me embracing me tightly. Standing up we join hands and sing spinning in a circle "Ring around the roses! Pocket full of posies! Ashes, Ashes! We all fall down!" and tumble over laughing where we are joined by the rest of our family. Our laughter fills the air and the children stand running off, but before we can get up to chase them I feel Jack moving on top of me, kissing my neck and my hair. His green eyes sparkling as I whisper "I love you Jack Lexington." When I look back up I no longer see the green eyes I'm so used to, but a crystal blue pair staring back at me. With that Scutcher Tansy leans in and presses our lips together "I love you Noreen Tansy."

"Don't leave me Scutcher! Jack come back! Jack I need you. Scutcher don't go! Jack I want my babies! I'm SORRY! I'm SORRY!" the last few words spill out in a mixed up jumble of blood and saliva as nothing makes since anymore. Clutching my hands together I hold tight to the uneven golden ring that is the only thing I have to comfort me in these last few moments. I hear the fight still echoing around me. Feet jump and move the pushing a shuffling a beautiful dance. My eyelids start to feel heavy as tears keep gushing out of my eyes. Clouds begin to roll in as the rain starts to fall, soothing and almost relieving me of my pain. I can't close my eyes yet though, I can't let go. I need to keep breathing, I need to keep living. Fighting back I try to yell out to Pandora or Cyrus or someone...anyone...and though my voice did not come, someone does. I see Pan hovering above me, his face blurry and worried and then my eyes feel as if the colors have vanished and I'm looking at a solid white wall. There were no angels singing, there was no moment of clarity. I wasn't there anymore, I was home, holding my children. Their loving eyes searching my smiling face. There was no pain, there was no suffering. Just me and my beautiful twins together at last. I was finally free.

Her body was became still on the floor of the arena, her lungs no longer gargling, her heart no longer beating. The rain still beating a steady pitter patter on those around her. A cannon sounded as Noreen Lexington was no more.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

Last Edit: Jun 18, 2012 15:04:14 GMT -5 by laphae8ash

sbeeg
Retired Staff

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Pronouns: she/they
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Ring of Fire // Day 3 Jun 18, 2012 17:44:45 GMT -5

Quote

Post by sbeeg on Jun 18, 2012 17:44:45 GMT -5

Mahlah Shea

Everything seems miles away- Elon calling her name, the sound of the other's fighting- but not the girl. Nonnie? Noreen. That's it. Elon's district partner, but they were never really partners.

She's screaming at me Mahlah thought, suddenly unsure what to do with her knife. Briar, who is that? Mahlah wanted to shout back at the girl- tell her to stop but her screaming just went on. She even made forward as if to embrace the girl cutting her down. Frightened by the display, Mahlah stumbled backwards, looking up to the see the boy from Eight. He was charging- his eyes locked on Elon. Suddenly all the fear melted away, leaving only a numb, adrenaline haze. Jumping up, Mahlah slid herself in front of Elon- trying to protect the body that was bigger than hers.

"NO!" Not Elon. Take her instead- just don't hurt him. Not her brother and father and friend rolled into one. Only, after her scream she saw the boy falter, stumbling forward- his knife hitting not Elon, nor Mahlah but Noreen. The sobbing girl hardly saw it coming- but Mahlah did. She watched as the blade slid into her neck, the red rain squirting from the wound and then easing into a calmer flow. Blood splattered on the District Three girl too, covering her white shirt and sticking to her hair. The stuff covered her face but she didn't even flinch.

Ailia, Mel, Luyu, Katie, Aenor, Cassandra, Seepie.

Elon.

"Don't you ever lay a finger on him."
[Attacks Pandora]
[dice=200+2000]
[Shallow Cut on Left Shoulder -- 3.5 damage]

The cut wasn't deep, but it wasn't the attack that made Mahlah feel strong, it was the words.

[rand=7392749311402444522044684272259534333909233100715522016726899892]

Last Edit: Jun 18, 2012 18:17:29 GMT -5 by sbeeg

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Post by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] on Jun 14, 2012 11:49:41 GMT -5

Post by laphae8ash on Jun 14, 2012 12:00:34 GMT -5

Post by Spesh on Jun 14, 2012 12:15:14 GMT -5

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Jun 14, 2012 12:20:24 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Jun 14, 2012 12:23:08 GMT -5

Post by rook on Jun 14, 2012 15:30:18 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jun 14, 2012 18:25:46 GMT -5

Post by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] on Jun 14, 2012 19:33:21 GMT -5

Post by laphae8ash on Jun 15, 2012 16:10:43 GMT -5

Post by Spesh on Jun 15, 2012 17:09:43 GMT -5

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Jun 16, 2012 1:22:42 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Jun 17, 2012 20:25:59 GMT -5

Post by rook on Jun 18, 2012 10:12:38 GMT -5

Post by laphae8ash on Jun 18, 2012 15:00:09 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jun 18, 2012 17:44:45 GMT -5

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