no church in the wild { half-baked }

lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah
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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 23, 2014 4:54:59 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jun 23, 2014 4:54:59 GMT -5

Your feet dig into the sand, carrying you away from the screams, from the fighting, which was occurring behind you. Ingrid. Potato. Siren. You hadn't seen any of them escape, you hadn't seen any of them full stop. Your eyes scan the horizon, the sun climbs above the sandy dunes, its rays poking your body with heat that made your skin feel like it was on fire. Hastily you move your hand which was not clinging to your lasso to cup your eyes, breaking the suns contact to your delicate iris’s. Before you the sand expands like an ocean. It seems endless, dry and endless. You swallow hard dropping your hand and eyes and digging your heels in before taking off, putting more distance between you and the bloodbath. You had been lucky, not one blade, or while or anything had touched you. The blood that was on you, wasn't yours, but the blood of people who had been mauled, who you had help maul. Had helped kill. You had to find them.

You decide to walk parallel to the fighting frenzy, always keeping the sun to your right and the sounds of death to your left. You had to find them- they would be trying to find you, right? Your on your own little girl. Didn't I tell you? I told you to trust no one, no one but us… but you decided against it and now look- your all on your own. The voice whippers into your ear making a shiver run though your skin which was coated in a layer of sweat. “No, no they are looking for me, just like i am for them. Your wrong, they are good people… They know that by having me at their side increases their chances f survival… for a while anyways.” You spit back, shrugging the saddle pack that you had managed to snake up higher onto your shoulders. “Now just shut up! You got me into this place on the first hand, it is my job to deal with the rest!” The hiss escapes your lips and you coax your body into a jog, your eyes not slacking off for even a moment.

A flash of silver. Almost instantly you come to a halt, your feet kicking up dust as they cease moving. Fiddling with the strap on your shoulder for a moment you move to shield your eyes with your hands. Before you an object suspended by a silver parachutes lands a few feet away. It doesn't make a sound, the sand cushioning its landing. Something about the objects seems familiar- where have you seen this before? Your mind flashes back, you needed to know that it was safe. What was it? Hesitantly you take a pace forward as an image flashes before your eyes. It was from a previous games, one where a tribute picked up a parachute almost identical to the one before me now. They picked an object from it relief painting the features of their face. Thats right, it was from sponsors. The parachute that came down from people who sponsor you, giving you things that they thought would help you survive a little longer.

Instantly you move towards it, your fingers shaking as you rip the parachute off the box that it was suspended to. Peeling open the box some sort of relief fills you. It was a knife. Charlottes face appears before you, a smirk spread across her cherry red lips. You weren't very good with things like these, your clumsiness making you prone to injury- but, you were no idiot. Charlotte was wrong about that. With a determined huff you push the knife into your belt, keeping it firmly in place and easily accessible. Then something small falls out of the box, a small square of paper the words ‘Be strong ~Victor’ scribbled onto it. You smile to yourself and tuck the piece of paper into your pocket before climbing to your feet. Shrugging the rope over your shoulder as well has the bag with minimal items in it. You had managed to grab some barbed wire, pliers and some sort of odd googles which you weren't quite sure what to do with-

“Potato!” You scream suddenly. He was on more than a hundred meters ahead of you. Hope flares within you and you quicken your pace to catch up to him. He was alive. He was alive. He was alive. You keep relating to yourself as you reach his side. Instantly your eyes search his body checking for injuries. They don't find anything, the blood on his clothes seeming not to belong to you. This is when you realise that you had been holding your breathe. You let it go in a sigh of relief. “You’re ok,” you look up at him with a smile on your face. But after a moment a frown takes its place, your eyes searching around the two of you. “Where is Ingrid? and- and Siren?”

[receives knife]

Last Edit: Jun 25, 2014 6:40:15 GMT -5 by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah

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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 23, 2014 10:11:01 GMT -5

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Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Jun 23, 2014 10:11:01 GMT -5

Her collar bone breaks agin' an' agin', shatterin' my ear drums and making my head spin. I ain't wantin' ter think about what I jus' seen. The girl I hit with my cattle iron is dead. Not by my hand. I was jus' one a' ther many who knocked her down, made her scream in pain, who watched her slowly break. I was jus' one a' ther many carry-on birds that helped ter tear her throat outta her neck.

I'm runnin' now.

I c'ain't breath.

I c'ain't.

I gotta stop, I gotta stop an' scream but if I stop someone'll kill me fer certain. I c'ain't stop.

My min' breaks it's self inter two bits, tryin' ter figure it's self out. On one han' I c'ain't stop thinkin' 'bout the girl I jus' watched die. I c'ain't stop thinkin' bout how easily I swung my weapon at her, as if it weren't a big deal ter attack another person, an' a girl no less. My Pa woulda had my head on a stick fer what I jus' done. I'm ready ter gut myself if it comes down ter it.

I knew the mechanicals of ther game an' all that, what I'd have ter do. It's an entirely differnt thing though, talkin' 'bout it an' then bein' in ther moment. I'd felt myself step away, outta my own body, as if I weren't seein' straight an' someone else were in charge of my bones an' muscles. I attacked without thought, without worry 'bout what I was doin'. I were someone else, I were like a wild animal.

I'm afraid.

I have ter stop ter catch my breath an' ter retch out ther meager contents of my stomach. I ain't never seen so much blood, so much gore. I don't want ter be here. I don't want ter be here I want ter go back ter 'afore when I didn't know anythin' 'bout ther games an' I didn't know 'bout the Cap-i-tole an' I didn't know 'bout anythin' an' Ma an' Pa an' Sis was still alive. I want ter go home.

But I c'ain't.

I'm here.

I'm stuck here 'til I die.

An' there are people relyin' on me ter git my act tergether. I gotta be there for 'em. For the three girls who I said I'd stick by an' I made a promise an' Opal is watchin' me an' so is Ripred.

Ripred.

I wonder if she has forsaken me yet, if I am still counted as one a' her own. I loved her since my Ma tole me 'bout her. An' I prayed every Sunday an' I went ter church but she still forsaked me when it mattered. An' now I'm holdin' onter ther thought a' her an' I'm hopin' she's holdin' onter me too 'cause I c'ain't go this alone.

I c'ain't.

"Ripred, fergive me," I whisper ter ther sand. I wonder if she's listenin', if she can even hear me in here. It seems like a godless place. I wonder if I am alone.

I gotter fin' t'others.

I pick up on runnin' agin', wishin' that I could jus' lay down right here an' shut off but I c'ain't. I ain't gonna rest till I shut my eyes fer good. I ain't got no juice left in me after that fight, that feedin' frenzy. I feel like I am lost.

"Potato!"

The shout fills my ears up an' I skid to a halt, twistin' ter look 'ahin' me, at a figure gettin' real close. At first I tighten my grip on my makeshift weapon, some sort of energy risin' up inside a' me agin', like a sort of lust. Similar to the feelin' I get when I see Opal naked, but diffren'. Evil. When she gits a lil' closer, I realize that what I'm lookin' at is Miss Sonja, lookin' frightened an' blood spattered.

I hate ther way that I so easily got ready ter attack. I hate ther rising excitement I'd felt in my chest when I'd heard ther sound. Disgusted with myself, I drop the Iron ter the groun' with a clang an' rub my eyes, tryin' ter get ther sweat out. "I ain't seen 'em yet, Miss Sonja, yer ther firs' one I've come across," I say, tryin' ter soun' strong an' reliable. "Did yer manage ter git anythin' useful?" I ask. All I managed myself was some weird slippers, a scarf and a monocle.

compendium / avriel
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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 24, 2014 1:42:16 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Jun 24, 2014 1:42:16 GMT -5

I N G R I D E L W Y N

Like coiled snakes the bloodstained whips were wrapped around her arms, no longer scratching imprints into the sand. She felt a dry breeze caress the sweaty skin on her forehead, soothing her from the sweltering heat for a few relieving moments. Her eyes were squinted and focused on a blank horizon, framed by clear blues and blinding yellows as if there was nothing breathing in this wasteland besides condemned tributes. She knew this couldn’t be true; there had to be sustenance in their Game, or they would all be starved out. Sustenance meant plants or animals, and that meant life. It also meant water – something this Hell seemed to lack a bit of. But the Capitol drones on their makeshift heavenly pedestals would not keep her separated from her element. Wherever the water was waiting, she would find it. No matter what obstacles stood in her path.

Miniscule green columns blotting a yellow backdrop drew her forward in her trudge through the sands, boots kicking mounds of it and etching sole prints into a dead earth. The storm behind her was ceased and abandoned, and what remained in crimson stains was the aftermath. Four corpses she had counted on her departure, one caused by her own hand, perhaps one of the goriest she had seen. He was nameless in her mind, nameless and homeless and insignificant. He had stumbled before her bloody and battered with a whip in his hand and death in his eyes. Two lashes was all he needed to topple into his grave. It was a savage way to finish somebody off. Drowning was the only holy way to perish, but in the midst of a storm with only a whip in hand what choice did she have? It was a spur of the moment decision, the instinct of an animal in a frenzy. She felt no remorse, no guilt. Nothing.

Behind her a group of four were loitering by the wagon of treasures, fading into silhouettes as she jogged sluggishly through the sand in search of her friends. “Friends” was a rather conflicting term, considering that they would most likely die, not necessarily beginning with Ingrid herself. Sonja, Potato, Siren – she may watch all of them die, or none of them die. Any of them could die today or tomorrow, or a few minutes from now. There was no way to be sure. It was the manner in which they died that truly mattered, and she wanted to be sure that each of them drowned properly. How else would she see them again in the paradise she had been longing for? She had to save them from damnation. She had to save them from the other tributes and what they would unwittingly submit them to with their swords and arrows. But first she had to find them, like she had promised.

The green columns – the only sign of life so far in this miserable landscape – turned out to be tall plant-looking objects with spines on their surfaces. They were treacherous, yet they wore the color of Mother Nature. Were the Gamemakers trying yet again to deceive her? She tilted her head and examined one, fingers hovering over the spines. She was hesitant to touch such a foreign thing, but anything that resembled a plant was promising. Perhaps she could find something useful in this dangerous garden, or maybe one of her friends would recognize these ugly abominations.

She heard a female’s voice calling from a distance, but not to her. It was Potato’s name, and that was all she needed. She followed the sound and spotted a pair of tributes, one with Sonja’s pretty face and the other with Potato’s fair head of hair. It practically matched the yellow shades of the landscape. ”Over here!” she said, but not too loudly. She didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.

She uncoiled one of the whips and shoved it into her bag, which was slung over one shoulder and already unzipped. ”I didn’t find a lot. I have some sharp wire, and these,” she pulled out her armored gloves and took the time to slip them on. These would make it easier to wield weapons and touch dangerous plants. ”And the rest is just stuff, I don’t know if we can use any of it.” She was talking more than usual, she noticed. Was it because she had grown comfortable around these two, or was it the blood racing in her veins, riling her up in this heat? She didn’t know.

She looked back up at the two of them and frowned. ”Have either of you seen Siren?”

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Last Edit: Jun 24, 2014 1:47:42 GMT -5 by Python

lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah
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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 24, 2014 5:37:36 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jun 24, 2014 5:37:36 GMT -5

Potato stood on his own his weapon grasped tightly in his hands. Where were the others? Would we be able to find them? Your heart begins to pound in your chest because despite everything you wanted to find them, find people who you could trust- but could you trust them? This was the games and in the games you couldn't trust anyone. Everyone wanted to make it out of here alive, these people, the ones that you wanted to trust could just be waiting for you to close your eyes… they could strike you down at any minute. You look up at Potato, swallowing hard. Would he do that to you? Bang your head in with his cattle iron when you had turned the other way? After all he had just gotten married, he would want nothing more than to see the person that he loved with all his heart. Suddenly you don't feel as comfortable as you wanted to feel, you shuffle on your feet, your hand hovering close to the handle on your blade.

"I ain't seen 'em yet, Miss Sonja, yer ther firs' one I've come across… Did yer manage ter git anythin' useful?"

You take a moment to look around the two of you. Trees- wait would you call them trees? You didn't even know. But things, green things, with spikes that were scattered all of them surrounded them. You had never seen anything like it. They looked painful. Some of the spikes were hell long and others curled up at the tips. You wander over to one of them, your finger reaching out to touch a tip of a spike- but you stop. You had no idea what these were, for all you know they could be poisonous. Frowning, you let your hand drop back to your side before tuning to face Potato once again. “Um, I guess I do. I have some barbed wire, which could be useful, for i don't know, something? I also have some pliers and this knife,” you gesture to the knife at your waist, your eyes carefully watching the boy in front of you. You were cautious, not feeling safe, not after what had just happened at the bloodbath. You had just watched as people died, as your District partner feel to the ground his body lifeless. You had liked the boy, something about him reminded him of you. Your hands begin to shake and you tucked them away behind your back.

Not long ago you had been so desperate to find these people, you had been so sure that you could trust them, but then you yourself, had thought about turning on people you care felt something for. If you hadn't of stopped when you did, you knew you would have whipped your whip out to kiss the skin of Cystine. If you couldn't even trust yourself, how could you trust others?

Everything was just moving to fast.

You couldn't keep up.

“Over here!”

The voice slides through the air and into your ears. It was a familiar voice, one that you knew belonged to the girl with the odd obsession with water. You turn to face her as she meets you and Potato. Your body was still tense, your eyes alert which surprises you in a way because you thoughts that once you found another one you might of been able to calm down and search your thoughts for a reason to feel so jumpy- you know, other than the fact that these two wanted you dead too. Not now, but soon. Who knows how long from now. She tells us that she got a couple good items and others that might be totally useless, which you believed cause you had the same issue, I mean what even was those googles that you picked up? They were big and bulky and when you had looked through them earlier they only made your vision into some screwed up mess. Then she asks about Siren and I glance at Potato before icing a small shrug. “Nah, we haven’t seen her yet- we better run into her soon other wise that career pack might catch up to us, and I am not ready to die yet.”

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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 24, 2014 8:25:17 GMT -5

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Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Jun 24, 2014 8:25:17 GMT -5

When Miss Ingrid joins us, I feel some relief. She brings the thought of corn stalks, tall an' growin' even stronger with her unbidden. I never even asked her what her family might have grown, iffin' they did grow anythin' at all. I'd been so wrapped up in my own head all las' week that I didn't have ther time, ther pashunce for anyone else. All my head, all a' me were given ter Opal. An' I know I gotta put her away right now if I even want ther chance of survival but she's so present I keep on expectin' her ter appear in ther distance, ter run inter my arms so's I kin feel safe agin'.

She already went through this horror an' I'm glad that she ain't havin' ter agin', I'm glad that it's me an' not her. I'm sorry she had to deal with any a' it in ther firs' place. Right now though, I'm almos' feelin' bad jus' fer survivan' when so many t'other kids didn't. I gotter be puttin' that feelin' away 'cause I know it ain't gonna help me, not here. I need ter become cold, an' wise, an' numb.

But I ain't wantin' ter lose myself neither.

It's one a' them co-nun-drems that Sis' were always talkin' of. You could spread ther wheat fer ther crows so's they might leave yer fields alone, but then yer had ter feed ther crows everyday, usin' up ther same amount a' corn. I could let myself go, I could hide inside, where I didn't have ter be aware, but it wouldn't change what were happenin', it wouldn't stop me from sheddin' ther blood. Either way, I was gonna be sufferin'.

Ripred is testin' me an I fergot my pencil.

As if ter agree with this whole line a' thinkin', a parachute with a wrapped bandle lands unceremoniously on my head. The force a' ther landin' sends me reelin' backwards, inter a spiky tree. The first thing I reckon I think about in that moment is ther prick a' pain from a spiky thing, the secon' one bein' ther fact that I jus' got attacked by a vicious plant?

Me?

I ain't never done nothin' ter deserve this.

~~'Cept fer breakin' a girl's collar bone.~~

Maybe I do deserve it.

Either way, it hurts a hell of a lot. I ferget about ther lumpy bundle fer a sec as I try not ter freak out 'bout ther spike stickin' outta my leg. It's not a reglar occurrence fer me ter be havin' spikes stickin' outta my body, it jus' ain't natural really, not in ther slightest.

I'm a hunerd percent done with today an' it ain't nowhere near lunch time. I don't try an remove ther spiney thing myself 'cause I know that when you git yerself stung by a plant, you gotta get someone else ter git it. I ain't even thinkin' much on it 'cause the bit a' sky that's fallen on my head, I reckon it's fer me.

Wincin' at ther sting a' ther object in me, I move twards ther bundle, fingers unwrapping the weather-proofed parachute it's wrapped in. It reveals a long, slightly curved sheath, an inside er' that there is a long, slightly curved blade. My fingers run down it in amazemen', it muster cost a fortune. I c'ain't think of anyone who'd have enough money fer such a fine weapon. Zell was tellin' me some folk might be innerested in me 'cause of the romance with Opal, but I weren't thinkin' I'd get sponsored none.

I pull it from it's sheath, watchin' ther way that the sun glints offa' it, so bright and lovely, better'n my cattle iron fer certain. An' it's only when I flip it over that I notice the intials engraved at ther top on one side, 'O , E'. When I flip it again, t'other side reads out, 'P , E'. My heart swells at that. At our names tergether as they should be. I know she's lookin' out fer me. A guardian angel, that's what she is.

The other item proves ter be a medkit, with needle an' thread, as well as some bandages. It's amazing how quickly those arrived, as if she jus' knew I was likely ter walk myself right inter a spiky tree, bless her.

I manage a grin at ther girls I've allied myself with, "Ladies, I'm feelin' a heck of a lot better 'bout our chances now."

[receives 1 medkit]
[receives 1 cavalry sword]

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 24, 2014 18:04:14 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Jun 24, 2014 18:04:14 GMT -5

I N G R I D E L W Y N

None of us are ready to die yet. A career pack would certainly be the death of them, especially if their fourth was lost. Sonja was right; they couldn’t linger around this death trap for much longer. The four cannons warned her that the ocean-dweller was still alive somewhere, perhaps battling for her life or seeking shelter in this desolate desert. If she didn’t join them soon they would have to continue without her, guiltless and vulnerable. A girl from six and two scrawny runts from Eleven were not the ideal pack for survival, but they were stable enough to rely on each other until the inevitable end.

A glimmer of silver descending from the skies suddenly thumped Potato in the skull, startling him backward until one of the vicious plants stung him in the calf. Ingrid glared at the abomination and peered around to examine the blood seeping out of his wound. One of the spines had lodged itself into his flesh like a wasp’s stinger, but Potato didn’t seem intent on trying to ease it out himself. ”I have a tool for that,” she said. She remembered now, that little grey tool she had scooped into her bag during the wagon scuffle. She dug it out with one gloved hand and tweaked with its handles, watching the clamps open and close like the jaws of a rat. ”I’ll get it out.” She knelt in the sand – it was warm, but surprisingly soft against her sweaty skin – and carefully maneuvered the clamp over the needle. The little grains would stick to her ankles, but right now she couldn't find the energy to care.

Potato was focused on his gifts from the sky – a sword that gleamed maliciously beneath the sun’s unforgiving fire, and a medical kit. No doubt it was from that victor, Opal Shore - Opal Earnest now, since the wedding ceremony had taken place. Ingrid didn't understand romance and the like, but it seemed pointless to invest such strong emotions in a tribute with no mentor. No mentor meant no victor, and a District without a victor was a District with a curse cast over its land. Potato would surely be determined to evade death and see his victor wife again, but the chances? The reality? It was false hope. It was folly. But the gifts sure were helpful, especially that sword. She silently thanked the victor for her unwavering faith.

Once the jaws were secure and her grip steady, she silently counted to three and yanked the nasty stinger out of his skin. A rivulet of blood followed its path, but it hadn't snapped in half or injected any poisons by the looks of it. ”I don’t think it’s poisonous.” She stood back up and tucked the pliers away, glad to hear Potato’s echoes of confidence despite her own doubts. She chose not to voice these doubts for their sakes. Her job was to drown and save souls, not crush the dreams of the living. ”You can make use of that now,” she replied, gesturing to the medical kit as her eyes slid over the blossoming puncture wound in his leg.

A traveling shadow caught her eye then, gliding over the sand with two companions at its tail. She raised her head to see three parachutes descending from the sky. How do they send these things out with their technology? She snagged the first one in her hands and let the others drop. The label read “11 – Ingrid Elwyn.” All of them did. Gifts for her? Sponsors, she reminded herself. Her stylist and escort had delivered a long speech about wooing audiences and earning sponsors, but she hadn't bothered to acknowledge it at the time. She found one prize inside of each box: an empty canteen in one, a medical kit in another, and a knife in the last. She held the blade up before her eyes, and in its surface she could see her reflection smiling. This is exactly what I need.

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[receives knife, med kit and empty canteen from sponsors]

Last Edit: Jun 28, 2014 13:58:25 GMT -5 by Python

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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 25, 2014 7:05:15 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jun 25, 2014 7:05:15 GMT -5

Where was the creature of the sea? Did she not realise that her delaying us was only brining our chances of survival down? And you knew her a bit and you knew that she was not that type of girl. She wanted to survive, she wanted to make it home. Frustratedly you look around you, your eyes searching past the collums of green and out into the sandy desert. We couldnt stay here much longer. We were going to have to leave without her. Some part of you was glad, glad that the career from district four would not be tying to kill you in your sleep but another part of you was disappointed because she was string- she had gotten a ten, double to your meagre five.

Suddenly a flash of silvers slides into your vision and you watch as it descends towards the ground, catching Potato’s head on the way. His whole body jumps in surprise, his leg colliding with one of the odd trees. A squeal of pain escapes his lips and you look down to see a large barb implanted in his skin. You crutch your nose up, damn that looked like it hurt. “Poatao are you ok?” The question slips out almost like a reflex, your mind not even thinking before taking action. But before you can move Ingrid is by his side whipping out the pliers that she had managed to collect. You watch carefully as the fingers of the metal objects clasp the spine tightly. She pauses, composing herself, before ripping the spine from the Potato’s skin. A small trail of blood slips down his leg and instantly you are reminded of the blood that you had spilled during the hectic past few hours.

You look away, your eyes finding home to to the ground where you watched small ants crawl along the surface going about their daily business. Not a care in the world. If only that was you. If only you were one of the small creatures, working together, with your family in order of survival. As a team, forever. You look up in time to see Potato clasping a shiny bright sword between his long delicate fingers. Just the sight of him clasping onto the dangerous weapon made something in your stomach move. You knew that Potato was a gentle boy, that he would not attack you unless he had too- well thats what you wanted to believe, thats what you needed to believe, but still, just looking at him with that sword was intimating.

You glance at Ingrid and see that she too was clasping into three different parachutes, a smile speeding onto her thin lips as she pilled out a knife that looked almost identical to your own. The way her lips curled back into that twisted smile again makes your heart pound even harder in your chest. These people, these two people that you were going to protect looked so dangerous in this moment. “Now we all have a blade, I think that ought to make for a dangerous combination,” you manage to choke out without too much trouble. “Just look at you two, you must be loved by the pubic, i mean a couple parachutes each and the games have barely begun.” This time you mange a weak smile, you thumbs slipping into your pockets as you speak. Dangerous. Everythin- everyone was dangerous.

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no church in the wild { half-baked } Jun 26, 2014 4:35:25 GMT -5

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Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Jun 26, 2014 4:35:25 GMT -5

I let ma thumb run o're her initials a couple a' times 'afore I put ther sword back in it's sheath. I shudder slightly as the metal scrapes 'gainst the leather an' I realize that I'm gonner be swingin' it at another human bein' sometime soon Ther whole idea a' that hurts a heck of a lot. I reckon I c'ain't attack someone agin', not iffin' I got a choice. I weren't made ter hurt other folk. I were made to plant ther earth an' make other people smile. Bein' here, botherin' ter fight, it's against my whole nature.

An' as I'm thinkin' a' this, Ingrid pulls the spine from my leg an' despite myself, I yelp out a "Well, HECK," 'cause dang that stung near worse than it goin' in. Still, I turn an' give her my thanks, grateful ter have such loverly an' trustworthy allies. I'm certain that Opal would be glad of the two girls too, seein' as we both knew I couldn't go it alone.

An I shudder agin' an' turn away 'cause there ain't noway that all of us will make it outter this alive. It's lookin' like I'm the weakest one in this whole alliance anyhow, I lack the convicshun an' ther bloodlust. I ain't wantin' ter kill no one, even though I know that doin' it will git me outta here an back inter Opal's arms.

It's too late anyhow, I killed them Avox.

I've alreayd killed, I'm a murderer anyhow an' nothin' 'bout this games is gonner change that, even if I don't manage ter kill anyone else, I became what I never wanted ter be already. I guess then that it don't matter what I do. All that's left ter watch me disintegrate is Opal 'cause I ain't even see my family in years. They're dead an' I'm dyin'. I ain't got nothin' ter worry 'bout.

"I gotta feelin' that Miss Siren ain't comin'," I say, speakin' ther bitter words affor I even realize that I've said them. An I ain't thinkin' that I'm ther only one who's thinkin' it too. Somethin' didn't really seem right 'bout a career joinin' up with a bunch a' non-careers. I was surprised when Ingrid told me of her. I knew in my gut that maybe it was wrong ter trust her. An' I decided ter ignore that feelin' earlier. "The longer we wait fer her, ther more I feel like a sittin' duck."

[collects one bundle of edible plants and two bundles of medical plants]

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker