Oh, Revenge & Its Thrills >> ID/LPG [day 2]

Panicking. It’s a thing we humans do far too often isn’t it? We plan things to the smallest detail, and anytime any small thing goes wrong, we panic. We suppose the world will revolve around us and attend to our every need. We don’t understand that there are other people with other plans, and we can’t possibly imagine their lives intercepting with ours (unless we’ve planned for them to).

But besides panicking, everything in this wretched place was apt to make me feel dizzy at this point. From sprinting at full pace to the simplicity of taking a step. Every pace is another towards the simple death of a heart attack. It was all too much and it should have been for me, for I’m just a kid; I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t really want to. I’m striking blind in the dark, as is almost everyone at this point. What are you supposed to do? How are you supposed to prepare for whatever the hell this is? This definitely hadn’t been a part of my plan, but was it in anyone’s?

And getting killed by a bunch of kids also wasn’t quite in my life plan. Things had happened so quickly, I mean one minute Shadow was presenting his little present to Emery, and the next thing I knew, I was watching the boy have his tongue forcibly ripped out of his mouth, helpless. That’s what I was, being held back, struggling roughly, fighting against the fingers digging into my back. I wasn’t suffocating, at least I didn’t think I had been, but the girl was strong, and I, being not, could in no way break free. So I watched. That was all I could do. I’m so sorry.

But the night passed, slowly, granted, but it passed. I wasn’t surprised, as I was still slightly numb from not being able to move the entire night, hence waking Shadow. The boy had lain against me all night, drenching my clothing with tears. So he cried, and I held him tightly, pretending that we were back home and imagining that the world around us was not as it actually was. I didn’t know how to console him; I mean “tongue cut out” wasn’t exactly in the handbook. All I knew to do was follow the stereotypical guidelines of consoling. I held him close, rubbed his back, and sung the first thing that came to mind. More or less hummed, I suppose, as I didn’t want to make too much noise. It was calm, and the sky, as artificial as it was, was quiet. I could appreciate that at this point. The silence was nice.

The sun rose at last, the rays warming each of us, but it didn’t quite shake the very last ashes of cold from my body. I looked down at Shadow, who had finally fallen asleep at some point, probably from crying so hard. He hadn’t stopped, at least not before I had finally passed out. I shook him gently, even though I really didn’t want to, letting him sleep would’ve been really nice. When he hadn’t woken up, I stretched my legs up and maneuvered myself out from underneath him and looked down. Sheesh you’re a heavy sleeper. Or maybe you’re just exhausted from dehydrating yourself. I needed to wake him up, and my first plan hadn’t quite worked now had it? So, I did the logical thing, and lifted him up, my arms almost giving out at first because a.) tired, b.) not strong, and c.) it’s too early to be doing anything more than just waking up. I sat him back down briefly, and then tried to channel the little bit of energy I had into one burst, pushing him up to the sky and attempting to hold him there. Was this kid seriously not awake yet? So I began to sing, softly at first, and then increasing as time went on. The language was kind of—what’s the word—inaudible? I didn’t know what I was saying, and I was pretty sure no one else did either; at least I hoped they didn’t. I felt the gradual squirm of him waking up, and deciding that enough was enough, I set him down. “Nice to see you’re awake.” My laugh matched my tone, and I ran my hand through his hair, as if he really was my little brother.

I forgot about Shadow for the moment, and attempted to make something—anything of our surroundings. Trees. Lots and lots of trees and maybe a few people coming towards us in the near distance—wait, that wasn’t good. Well I guess it could be, but let’s think worst case scenario here.

That’s when I realized it was the group of kids we had just slipped away from. Well I guess we really hadn’t gotten away from them had we? I looked to the others I was with, Shadow, Hope, and the boy that I really didn’t know much about. Now was not the time to find out his life story however, and I watched as Shadow took a first swing towards the boy I was pretty sure had cut out his tongue. I decided following suit was probably the best option.


[attacks Iago Izar-McClaine, flail]
[dice=200+12000]
[Deep Gash on Back of Head; 9.0]

GM note: I'm not really sure what made the die fluctuate like this—usually when it's ever done it in the past, it's been immediately after it was posted—but as you can clearly see, I had the original attack logged in the engine long before this strange change happened. So I'm going to make an executive call to leave it as the gash on back of head, because that's what was logged in the engine, so it was definitely what she originally rolled. The original roll was 12165, deep gash on back of head, 9 damage, but down to 4 because Iago's helmet absorbed 5 damage.

After a long night of stumbling through the maze, we finally found an exit – well, it was mostly my own intuition that got us out, but I suppose Scout helped a bit too. Oh god, Scout. I don’t really like anyone in my alliance, but that isn’t a relevant matter. Sure, Ewe and Scout are practically useless, but it makes me feel more powerful, more important. Iago, on the other hand, would be a nice subtraction from the group. He thinks he’s boss, but he’ll see.

His eyes are lit with the same hue of greed as my brother’s. Those hands that had torn the district five boy’s tongue right from his mouth were all too familiar to be a stranger’s. I didn’t sleep more than half an hour last night, too busy fearing that the boy with the malicious eyes would crush me just the way my own brother tried to on multiple occasions. However, even I know that my brother was more dangerous than this District eleven boy could ever be. Though all his threats and blackmails, his glaring eyes and his total despise, my brother, Aaron never hurt me; he only ever let me hurt myself.

If anything, I can’t let this Izar boy know that he has the power to do that – the power to assert his control over me the same way my brother so easily did. I’m not afraid of him, I’m not afraid of my brother, and I’m not afraid of myself either, right? If I can only pretend to be strong, maybe I might wake up one morning with that reality fulfilled. Either way, this morning I feel anything but powerful as we pull ourselves awake beneath the great orchard trees with apples the size of my head.

Every moment I spend standing around trying to play these games I feel like I’m falling deeper into someone’s trap, whether it be my Moreno parents’, my brother, Aaron’s, or the gamemaker’s themselves. Every time I try to pull myself out of one trap, I only find myself in another. Every time I push aside my emotions and try to play the toughie, I’m just becoming a more perfectly molded Moreno statue; and every time I let the emotions in – the memories, the pains, the excitements – I’m falling into the most vulnerable trap of all.

Disliking the thoughts that swirl through my mind as I awake, I try to find something else to busy myself, thus quickly grabbing Scout’s teddy bear from her hands. “Look, the baby still carries about her teddy bear!” I tease because I have nothing better to do, because I never will have anything better to do, not if I get out of here alive at least.

I don’t know how to make myself happy anymore, but I at least know that if I can’t feel content with the moment, no one else should either. So I keep running, until I feel a sharp pain in my cheek, forcing me to stop. I put my hand to the newly opened wound and turn around. There they are: the same idiots from yesterday. Excuse me, I didn’t ask for a follow-up party. One birthday celebration was enough, thank you very much.

Shadow and his redhead girlfriend start attacking Iago while the younger girl tries to take down me, but luckily my alliance isn’t totally useless because the next moment I see Ewe and Scout throwing their weapons in front of them. Good to know we’re all on the same page. I scan the four people in front of me, taking more time than I really should thinking of who to charge towards. Recalling the Avoxing incident– the one that I’d played over and over and over in my head during my sleepless night – there’s an inch of respect lingering somewhere at the edges of my mind for this young boy who is attacking the single person who’d taken out his tongue. I think back to the day my brother’s gang had found me on the streets and pulled me into their house, remembering how easily I submitted to them. Maybe there are people here that are stronger than me – obviously not physically though. I could take down all of these wimps with a single punch.

So, because I seem to be in a strangely empathetic mood this morning and because I think an Avoxed victor would be quite entertaining – would they replace his tongue or what ? –, I run towards the girl who looks like she could be selling Girl Scout cookies if it weren’t for the weapon in her hands.

[uses jar of tar & firemaking on brass knuckles]

[attacks Hope, unarmed]
[dice=200+5000]
[Tripped - 0.5]

[fire]
[dice=50]
[minor burn - 2]

header by Stare <3

Revenge is many things, but smart is not one of them. The term “getting even” wasn’t true, you were never even with anyone in this world, someone always had to be ahead, and someone always had to behind. The cycle couldn’t continue otherwise, it’s just human nature to be the best, even when that’s physically impossible. So we try to take revenge on others, for the pain they inflict on us, or on someone we care about. We don’t seem to understand that being brave and courageous is different from attacking someone for what they’ve done. They will most likely be taken care of, but maybe that’s not our job. Maybe it’s not on us to take care of someone who’s hurt us. But maybe it is.

And that’s why I found myself swinging wildly at Iago, not so much for myself as it was for the small boy that had cried the whole night long. I couldn’t do anything now, I couldn’t give Shadow the tongue that was now who knows where, but I could fight. It was stupid, it was irrational, and it would most likely be the death of me, but that’s what you do when you decide that someone is worth your care. You put yourself on the line, no matter the cost. Which isn’t smart, granted, but it’s that part of your brain that is ruling out common sense and blinding it with love and care. That’s why we make stupid decisions most of the time, because we want to be the hero, we want to be the one that everyone praises for the great and heroic deeds we have done.

But most of us won’t live to be gifted for our actions. Most of us will die here and leave a scar on someone. Not just the physical scar where the sword met flesh, but the scar on a family, a friend, a brother or sister to the one we killed. We would leave behind pain and sorrow that would encompass a family for the rest of their lives. They won’t forget the shock of loss or pain that only time could heal until they themselves were gone. We all leave scars, no matter how small. Scars are forever; scars are permanent.

The battle had started to get busy however, with weapons and blood flying every which way. I hadn’t felt any pain yet, but maybe it was from the pure adrenaline that was coursing through my veins whispering at first, and gradually increasing to a yell; “stay alive, stay ALIVE, STAY ALIVE.” Everything was blurry, the movement of one person to one spot and the other to a next being too much for my brain to process. I turned quickly, watching as Shadow made another attempt at Iago, leaving maybe a small cut at best. He seemed okay though, I mean as okay as you could be at this point. Hope and the other boy, Brenden was it? They were being roughly attacked by all four of the others, terrifying and well-armored in their stance. Well, that’s how they looked to me since I am, well, neither of those things.

The probability of death was high at this point, for anyone. One strike could be the first and last to end the life of another. It was kind of like that at any point of life though (not the kids in a fight to the death kind of way); anything you do can be the last. We don’t like to think about death, but when you’re staring someone down knowing that this may be your last day, how can you not think about it?

I wasn’t sure how long I had been standing there, watching the chaos, but long enough where Iago had moved away and Shadow had tried to land another blow on him. Now was not the time to be frozen, and now was not the time to pretend that everything would be okay. Now was the time to be stupid and brave, and take your revenge.

[attacks Iago Izar-McClaine, flail]
[dice=200+12000]
[Broken Right Collar Bone; 6.5]