Chill You to the Bone [ID v. LPG]

"Don't fucking touch me, Aaron. Go steal for yourself. I’m not going to do the dirty work for you, coward,” but his hands haven’t moved from my shoulders, my back against the wall. “You just don’t get it, do you, Emery?” The smile in his eyes tells me that his words are law, that I will forever be in his shadow, and that there is nothing I can do to change the future’s course unless I want to find a knife in my back tomorrow morning. So with a sorry shake of my head, I give In the midst of this disaster, the cripple thinks he can take me on? The snicker that escapes my mouth isn’t a good representation of my true thoughts, because all I can think about is my brother – my brother and his words – and I know that every time I waste trying to control other people, I’m just giving myself over to his power, becoming more and more like the monster I’ve spent so many years trying to escape.

“Oh I do hope the two of you go at it. I don’t know if I could contain myself watching the harpy battle the gimp. I mean sympathy is obviously on your side, Ewe, but Emery is just so smoldering,” Iago cuts in. He thinks he’s so above everything, huh? This isn’t his business; I’m so sick of him – sick of all of these idiots – but what irritates me the most is the shadow of my brother that lingers at the edges of my thoughts. If anything, I can’t please him.

“Sorry Iago, but I’m not here to please you,” I say, frustrated as the shadow of my brother slowly and surely takes over my Head spinning, my hardened hands coated with blood, I run up the stairs and push the bathroom door open without turning on the Light is slowly fading from the arena as Iago bends over Scout and pushes the needle into her arm. I want to kill him right now (despite the fact that he’s probably the nearest thing I have to a friend right now); I want to kill all of them – but I know that such an action would just fulfill my brother’s pride. Frustration surging through me, I grab Iago’s bag while he isn’t looking and pull it over my own shoulder before running towards the giant ice cube. When I reach it, all I want to do is punch it over and over and over again until I can’t feel my hands – until they’re cold and bleeding and until it hurts so much it starts to feel good.

But I want to do something different. I want everyone to know that even if I don’t come out alive, I still win in every possible way. I don't care if Iago thinks I'm the dumbest tribute here; I know that's not true. Taking the rope out of my bag, I tie one end to Iago’s glaive and the other to my broadsword, fastening a sort of harness around myself with the rest of the rope. I first stick the glaive into the ice cube and then the sword, pulling my feet off the ground full of Water drips from the faucet as I wash the sin from my hands. What have I done? What am I doing? Why is my face wet – is that blood too? Oh no, it’s just Tears trickle slowly but surely down my face as I keep pulling myself up the ice cube, letting my strong arms keep me up. I’ll be the queen of this place, Aaron. You watch me steal your throne of ice – I’ll do it right Now when the light suddenly comes on, I can finally see the unfamiliar monster in the mirror before me, an even bigger monster standing behind her.

“Nice job, Emery,” that terrible voice says and I shake my head, trying to wipe away the tears and wash the rest of this blood off my hands at the same Time doesn’t do much for me because it’s been long enough by now that I should have made it quite past the first fifteen feet of this thing; but I keep going – I keep going and going and going and ”I’m going to kill you, Aaron,” I whisper through my tears of fury as I hold my hands under the running faucet, still too afraid to look at the monster in the mirror with long dark hair and deadly dark eyes. “You can’t, Emery. The day you kill me is the day I start living in you. Funny how that works out, huh?” It’s working, despite my feet slipping against the cube. I’m almost there, nearly at the top. Stabbing the broadsword into the block of ice for the last time, I pull myself up and over the ice cube, grunting in response to the soreness in my arms. I don't know how I'll get down from here, but as long as I'm away from those idiots, I'm fine. Besides, Iago will come looking for his stuff soon enough, won't he? I sit on the edge of the cube and look out at the world beyond, but the sight isn't satisfying. I don't feel like a queen or a ruler or a winner in any way. The tears have dried, but the empty feeling still claws at my insides, because Aaron still wins.

ooc; um idek if this post makes sense, it's a bit experimental with the memories and suchhh, but yeah. um. emery really wanted to momentarily ditch the party and climb dat ice cube, sorryyyy.