{ how it ends // 64th hunger games finale

So here we are at last.

She hadn't slept. Who could? There was blood on her hands, so much blood that burned red long after she had washed them clean. Now, after everything - After Xanthus and Drace, and even before that there was the clashing of blades, day after day. After all of the running, the sweating and the fear - the fear especially - after all of it, maybe she could go home. Wouldn't that be nice? It wouldn't be to survive, no, but to prove a point. She had been bottom for so long. Bottom, where no one else would give her a chance. Overshadowed by Emerald, engulfed by Pyrite. She wanted to prove herself to them, and to the world, that she, Opal Shore, was her own person. A person to be respected, oh, and a person to be feared.

Why should she be feared? She was, at the start, overlooked. Of course she was overlooked. A dancing, flower-loving, trinket-collecting little girl. She didn't even know who her family was. The odds were great, yes. She was a Career. But was she? She was the Career that never asked to be a Career. The Gamemakers never knew that. District One girls are always ruthless and bloodthirsty. And she is, oh yes, she is. But she wasn't before. Not before she was thrown into the thick of it. The others knew she was weak - Even Drace tried to use Emerald against her, but Drace was dead, so what did it matter? It had made her stronger. It made Opal Shore go from the Career who never was to the Victor to be.

Just one more kill.

Yaa. It was always going to be Yaa. Opal had no problem with killing her, in fact if she could have chosen someone to finish this stupid little Game on, it would be Yaa, every time. There would be no hesitation on Opal's part, not after everything Yaa did, or rather didn't do. She just stood there and watched. Thinking about her made her hands shake and her breath quicken. There was no emotion more hard-hitting and powerful than seeing Locust's lifeless corpse staring into oblivion, except maybe the sheer rage created when Yaa stood there and did nothing as Mikhail tore Locust apart. Yeah, maybe the anger is stronger than the grief.

Every part of Opal's body ached from the restless night. She stood up and glanced down at the place where she was supposed to sleep - but instead tossed and turned in frustration. She dressed her wounds with the bandages she had in her backpack, and stitched up a few of the larger cuts that would be prone to infection - Not that infection would be a problem after today, she'd either be dead or recovering in the Capitol. Xanthus' armour would help her in the fight. She knew that Yaa would be going for all the key body parts, so armour was crucial. She knew that from her training - The training she hated, but persevered with anyway. Yaa has no training. Yaa has no training. Yaa has no training.

Where are you now, Emerald? Are you proud of how far I've come, or ashamed at what I've become? What about you, Pyrite? Opal would have loved nothing more than to see Pyrite right now, just for the satisfaction of seeing her one last time, and breaking her nose. There was no guarantee that Opal could come out of this alive. All she wanted was that simple satisfaction. Earn it. Opal collected her rucksack and sword, swinging the leather bag over her shoulder and clutching the hilt of the blade at her side. Yaa was out there, but where? She could be right behind her.

Yesterday she saw her own reflection. Was it yesterday? All the days blend into one when you don't sleep, and she wasn't even sure how long she'd been in the arena. All she knew is that would end today. Her reflection wasn't one she recognised, and she wasn't sure if she liked it. She saw Pyrite. She saw Emerald. She didn't see herself. She was trying to be like them for so long that she couldn't even remember who she used to be any more. Would they be disappointed that she wasn't them, or disappointed that she tried to be? Why did she even care about their opinions any more? This could well be her last day of being alive, and she was filling her head with what other people thought of her - Stupid, insignificant people. Why? Did it even matter any more?

She wasn't crying. No, she wasn't. She was Opal Shore, she was strong. She was going to win these Games, go home and prove that she was immortal. She was going to punch Pyrite in the face on national television, so that the whole of Panem would know her as the girl who Opal Shore punched. Kids would laugh at her in the street, call her names like 'Punching Bag' or 'Dead-weight'. She'd be shunned by adults, rejected by Career academies, sneered at... Pyrite wasn't even worthy of that punishment. Definitely not crying.

And then, all of a sudden, there she was. Yaa, not a hundred meters away from her. Walking, just walking with her pole sword strapped to the stubs where hands used to be - She looked an abomination. She didn't even look human any more, more like some kind of muttation. Part of her wanted to scream and part of her wanted to laugh. Yaa was totally oblivious to her - Opal couldn't have asked for a better position to be in. All she needed to do was creep up behind her and stab her through the back of the head. It was never going to be that easy though. It was going to be straight-up brutal. Opal only hoped that she could land a fatal hit first - That was key.

Just one more kill.

Opal licked her lips, dry and cracked with blood on them - Her own? Like a hunter she moved forwards, clutching the handle of her blade. She could imagine the Capitol crowds screaming in anticipation as one of the two remaining tributes crept up on the other. She could see the excitement in their faces as the finale kicked off. She could see Pyrite's twisted face and scowl, her arms folded and dark face looking down at her, she could see that Pyrite was expecting to see Opal die. She could even see Emerald - Perfect Emerald with her perfect hair and her perfect face, and her perfect attitude. What would she think of her right now?

But she didn't see Yaa. The glaive struck her fast and hard, and she stumbled backwards at the sting of the blade. Her back stung and she felt a warm trickle run down her spine. Her face screwed up in rage. She had taken her eye off the ball, blinded by an obsession with what others thought of her. She had missed the chance to strike first, and that could be costly. Other Careers would have been more focused, but she wasn't like the other Careers, was she? Doubt was creeping in, and it was spreading like a poison through her mind. She couldn't afford to doubt herself, not now, not after everything. She roared, blindly slashing at Yaa with her sword. She wasn't crying.

[attacks Yaa -- Dao (Flaming)]

[dice=200+1000]
[Shallow Cut on Left Hip -- 3.5]

[dice=50]
[Minor burn -- 2.0]

Honest to god
I will break your heart
Tear you to pieces
And rip you apart
One night

(OOC: Written by Rook, who is tribsitting and failed to post first by minutes)

One night to remember. One night to forget.

Opal didn't know which one it was going to be, but she did know that it wasn't going to be her last night. No, she would win this, of that she was confident. She just didn't know how she would feel about it afterwards. Thrilled to be alive, probably. When she was reaped she thought of all the things she would never do again, but now she could fix that. Now was her chance to seize life for what it was and take those chances that she was too afraid to take before. A fresh start.

The only speck of dirt on her clean slate was Yaa Valarro. Before she could start over she first had to wipe that dirty grub off the face of the earth. But would her slate be clean with all the blood on her hands? People would judge her, call her a murderer. Opal Shore was never meant to be a murderer. She hated being a Career - The very idea of it had always made her feel sick to her stomach. Now she was killing tributes like they were insects. Something had gone wrong somewhere down the line, Opal just wasn't sure when that was. Being a Victor didn't give you a clean slate. The burden of winning was having the deaths of twenty-three other children on your hands. She could never start over. Never.

Doubt. The doubt is coming back. Opal had to really force it out of her system this time. Yaa came forwards quickly to strike her again, but the sword-arm barely scratched her. Blood was drawn, sweet blood, but not enough for Opal to cry out. The girl from Seven was a monstrosity. Her face was bloody, plastered with sweat and dirt, whilst her severed arms were infected stumps, sharp weapons strapped in place of hands. Yaa wasn't human any more, but something entirely different. A creature driven mad by grief.

Was she so different to Opal?

Opal was mad. She knew that. Opal saw Locust's face in the bark of every tree, she heard her voice on every wisp of wind. She had lost her morality, she was fine with killing others, she was hell bent on proving herself to Pyrite and Emerald. She was not sane, no, but she wasn't crazy either. She was awake. Everything just seemed right. She didn't care if she was mad, or twisted, or insane. She knew what she needed to do and how to do it.

And that started with killing Yaa Valarro.

Opal turned and spat. Her spit was clear and bubbly with no traces of blood. That was good, right? They always told us that was a good thing. Her grip tightened around her blade so much that her knuckles turned white and her face went red. There was so much that Opal wanted to say to Yaa, so much she needed to say. For some reason all the words rushed to her lips at once, and instead she murmured something else entirely.

"I hate you."

Opal Shore wasn't crying, of that she was certain. She threw her body weight forwards at the twisted frame of Yaa Valarro and used the momentum to slash at her with her sword again. Her face was wet, not with sweat or blood, and her face was red too. She wasn't crying though. She was just clear. She knew what she needed to do and how to do it. How to do it.

Do it.

[attacks Yaa -- Dao (Flaming)]

[dice=200+1000]
[Shallow Cut on Forehead -- 4.5 damage]

[dice=50]
[Minor burn -- 2.0 damage]

Honest to god
I will break your heart
Tear you to pieces
And rip you apart
One night

(OOC: Written by Rook, who is determined to make up for his error.)

It would be an understatement to say that Opal was surprised at Yaa's words. She didn't know what she was expecting her to say, but certainly not that. If she thought back far enough she could recall someone once telling her that people would try to confuse her, that they would try to cloud her judgement to stop her from killing. She was always told not to talk, just to kill. Opal Shore wasn't a Career, she never listened to those words. So why could she recall them so easily? Yaa was clever, there was no doubting that. Her voice was still soft, almost charming. Clever. So very clever.

Opal didn't know if Yaa had a plan, or if she was just acting on instinct, but she didn't like where it was heading. She tried not to think on what the girl from Seven was saying, but the more she pushed the words to the back of her head, the more they screamed out. It was a lie, a filthy lie. Of course Yaa hated her. She had to hate her. Opal was all that was left between Yaa and home, and if she didn't hate her, then why was she trying to kill her?

The viper struck, her arm flashed red. She panicked, letting out a short cry of pain. A cut, just a cut. Opal barely felt it. Her hands were shaking now - Was that a bad thing? She couldn't remember if shaking hands were a good sign or not. Was it fear or adrenaline? Did it even matter? The doubt was coming back, forcing its way back into her head like an unwanted stray. She had to take a few seconds to compose herself, but she never took her eyes off of Yaa. Her sword was pointing at Yaa, almost a warning, stay back. She should not be warning Yaa, she should be attacking Yaa. When did she suddenly take the defensive? That was a bad thing.

And then, without thinking, she was speaking again.
"I don't have... To give you a reason..." She hiccuped, her eyes stung and a frown was cemented on her face. She didn't know where it came from, but she supposed it was true. She didn't have to justify herself to anyone, least of all to Yaa Valarro. She was making herself look weak for the first time in days. When she killed Drace she was confident and strong, when she fought Xanthus she was confident and strong. Today she was not. She was a stuttering, self-doubting wreck. Why? Why was she struggling with what she always found so easy? It could be that she was so close. She'd like to think it was that, and not her reality hitting her. She had killed so much and lost even more. She could feel it in her chest - The grief. She didn't want it. She wasn't going to take it.

Opal Shore swallowed her bitter pride and dug deep for that girl who smiled gleefully at the murder of Drace Vandel. That was the girl that had confidence - The girl who was powerful and strong. She couldn't find her. She was gone. Ever since Mikhail had taken the one thing in these Games that gave her joy, she had been lost. She had lost that cutting edge, and it was costing her.

She wouldn't let it cost her.

She wouldn't let herself be killed by such a heartless bitch. She had been through too much to let that happen now.

She wanted to scream at Yaa. She wanted to ask her Why? Why just stand there and let Locust be killed when she cared. She never cared about Locust as much as Opal did. Opal would have done something. She wanted to shout and kick and scream, but every part of her Career instinct - was it instinct? - Told her not to. The only thing that was going to get her out of this was composure.

Opal stood red-faced, teary-eyed and emotionally hit-for-six. She was anything but composed.

[attacks Yaa -- Dao (Flaming)]

[dice=200+1000]
[Block -- 0.0 damage]

[dice=50]
[Severe burn -- 8.0 damage]

Honest to god
I will break your heart
Tear you to pieces
And rip you apart
One night

(OOC: Written by Rook, who is coping well with expectation.)

Opal Shore smirked. She was a mess right now, but as she glanced at Yaa and looked right into her eyes her heat beat steadied. Her breathing eased up and she closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds and she did not move and inch as she heard the whistle of the blade. Instead she let it hit her and she let it touch her skin, hearing, feeling and sensing the way it split her skin on her chest. The pain radiated through her body and clashed with that of the pain that had engulfed her. It was enveloped and she bit back a hiss of agony. Instead she merely let out the breath she had been holding, it slipped past her lips and as it left she opened her eyes, letting her gaze land on the girl before her. Opal Shore had never before wanted to go home this much. She had never before wanted to see her family this much before. That was when she smiled. She smiled, her lips twisting into a grin, at that moment no hint of malice or venom touched her face, it was just a smile, and one that had often settled itself onto her face. There was nothing unkind about it.

”Okay, you got me.” She drawls, fingers twisting around the sword before twirling it between her fingers. She spread her arms out wide in a gesture to show that she had been caught. Then she laughed, her eyes flashing angrily. ”You think you get it don’t you? You think I was just a girl in love and now I am angry because she is dead? Oh, but it is so much more than that. I don’t hate you because I was jealous, jealousy and hate sure come close, but I’m not that kind of person. I loathe you because you let the girl you cared about die. You stood by and watched her die. Now don’t you dare tell me you tried to help. Words were never going to save her life. And you know that. You know what you did was selfish, you know what you did was sly, cunning and cruel.” She spat. Her hands tightened around the sword, and in that moment she dropped every single capability she had to act like a career. Hell why not? Why not continue on with this and be the person she was always meant to be?

”Her blood is on your hands. Your hands and nobody else’s. Not even the person that killed her could have killed her as effectively as you did. You probably watched as she was destroyed from the inside out.” She snarled. Her words were a flying mass of venom, heat and rage. But some part of her had enough control to know that she had to keep her mind focused. She was better than the salivating mess of an insane idiot. She was capable of yelling and screaming and keeping her wits about her. But she’d use that anger, rage and hate to get her what she wanted: Yaa’s dead body.

[attacks Yaa -- Dao (Flaming)]

[dice=200+1000]
[Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage]

[dice=50]
[minor burn +2 damage]

Honest to god
I will break your heart
Tear you to pieces
And rip you apart
One night

(OOC: idek)

She can tell Yaa Valarro is starting to hate her, and she smirks, lips twisting, eye flickering wickedly. She can see it all written across Yaa’s face, she was really nothing compared to everyone. She was just a little girl trying to play a grown-ups game and she really she stop. Her skill at hiding her emotions, or, well, even displaying them in a way that didn’t make her look like a psychotic beast was just horrendous. In any other time Opal would have manipulated that opened ending, but the way Yaa spoke was just far more delightful. It was the spitting image of a girl that was lying just to make herself feel better about the choices she had made. There was no way in heaven or hell that Yaa had not thought about the moves she had made in that fight. She knew that she was never ever going to get Mikhail to stop attacking Locust. She had known that. And yet she had pleaded with a fully trained career to let her weapon slip from her fingers. Yeah. This girl was far more stupid then people gave her credit for. Regardless, Opal would not say that kind of thing to her, this fight was getting rather dangerous, and with her leg wound impending each of her movements, Opal was more than positive that she might not win this one.

So no, telling the world that the stupid, dumb, useless thing before her was just that was not smart. She still had her dignity and her pride and she would not have it tainted by those kind of words. Still, there was the need between them to heat up that fire that burned. It thrashed only slightly and Opal could see just how much the flames wanted to dance. A teasing laugh escaped her lips as Yaa demanded she shut the fuck up. It wasn’t enough that the girl simply needed her to be silent, but what was more was that she had to add in such pitiful words. It was funny that Yaa was demanding such a thing, in Opal’s eyes it just proved how much each of her words were hitting home, sicking into her, slicing her open so that the world could see her bleed the truth. Everything she said was the truth, Yaa was simply in denial, and in the end when those walls finally came tumbling down they would see this girl fall, fall into the pits of the Earth and drown in the fires of hell.

A scowl fought its way onto Opal’s face, but breathing in deeply she scrambled for the few techniques she had learned as a child to calm herself. After a few moments they worked and she eyed Yaa and then as Yaa finished her rant Opal laughed, it wasn’t cold or angry, it was just a laugh, it held humour, because she really did see the things Yaa saying as awfully funny. Shaking her head she smiled once more, turning her bright eyes up to the cold, dying ones of Yaa Valarro. “You know the funny thing? She asks, eyes shifting to the sword in her hands, her grasp loosens, until she can feel the blade as an extension of her arm, rather than piece of metal. It felt good feeling the weight, and understanding that if she moved it this way it would cut Yaa there, and that if she tilted it up and lunged it would stab her through the heart. “Is that you do care. Because if you didn’t you wouldn’t tell me to shut up. You wouldn’t need to find a way to defend yourself. You know that everything you did was selfish. You know that you only think about yourself, and you have done that since the beginning.”

Her eyes narrow and she points her weapon at Yaa. “This whole game has been about pleasing you and making you happy. You fucked Locust for some fun and then in the blink of an eye you turned to someone else. I bet, and I know with a hundred precent accuracy that his bet is right, that the only reason you stand here is because you fucked everyone you could and by the time you were done there was only a few people that stood in your way.” She replies, there was no hint of malice, or anger in her tone. It was her just simply stating what she believed to be the truth.

[attacks Yaa -- Dao (Flaming)]

[dice=200+1000]
[Stabbed in Bicep -- 8.5 +1 blades, 9.5 damage]

[dice=50]
[moderate burn +4 damage]

Her sword sliced through Yaa's flash, biting deep into her skin, the flame as unforgiving as her eyes. It was with that strike that Opal knew it was over, there was no way Yaa was going to get her with another attack. Pyrite, the sword she had clung to for the entire span of the games slipped from her fingers.

Honest to god
I will break your heart
Tear you to pieces
And rip you apart
One night

(OOC: idek)