the good the bad and the ugly [3some vs Vargas Gang]

You hurt. You hurt in ways you didn't even know you could hurt. Your arms felt like they were constantly being stabbed at, every movement caused sharp pains to race through your body making your face scrunch up, your lips pulling away fro your teeth. You and Ingrid had found Potato not long after the fight with the two headed beast had ended. He had looked almost dead, blood running from his body like rain down a window, life and energy following in its wake. You weren't sure how to react exactly, some part of you wanted to cry with him, wanted to empathise with him, but the other part of you was too scared because the pain he must have been in was just unimaginable… so instead you tried to help him feel better by filling up with water bottle and slapping the cool liquid against his skin which was painted in blood- his own and his victims- and fit. It takes a while for you to clean his body of filth and you cant help but feel sorry for him. He had been so strong back there, cleanly removing the head of the career, but now he looked like a totally different person, his whole body deflated of any energy.

You and your alliance had rested there the night, hoping that the careers would leave you alone, to scared to move to much, needing to conserve energy and heal. The night had seemed long, minutes ticking by like hours. You thought that it would never end. Even as the capitols anthem played and the faces of two victims appeared in the sky, the one that had been beheaded and another, the District 10 boy, the name you couldn't place, you feel like time is till begin your enemy.

Your body is constantly jumping, so very scared that the careers might come at you when you are at your weakest, when sleep takes control over your body.

Maybe that is why you don't sleep.

Maybe that is why you sit, the whole night, eyes wide, body shaking.

Why were you here? You think to yourself numbly- for what seemed like the thousandth time- a lonely tear running down your cheek. Because you were weak. You knew that their were people at home who would disagree, people who would tell you that you were wrong, that you were stronger than you thought… but they were wrong, werent they? It was because you were weak you were here now, pain a permanent friend to your fragile body. It was because you were weak that your two allies had to be the ones to save yo twice in a row. If it hand’t of been for them wouldn't your body be rotting in the ground right at this moment? Minimal amount of people crying over your short lived life. You were weak, you were so very weak and it was your fault that Potato was like this. If only you had been strong, if only you were stronger than you could protect him- and Ingrid- like they both protect you.

Sighing you hastily wipe away the tears that had formed more rapidly in your eyes. These tears were more than just you feeling weak. They were ears of fear because you were scared. You didn't want to die and after todays fight, when you were sure that you would not see the sun rise for another day, you realised just how much it meant to you to be alive. All your life, well since the fire, the voices have tried to end your life and all your life you were to weak to pull threw, always needing someone else to pull you away from them and into safety. Never had you ever been able to live for yourself, been strong enough to protect yourself… always replying on others… always.

You were a burden.

You were scared.

You wanted to be stronger.

But you were weak.

Would you ever be able win?

Finally the sun rises and you stiffly climb to your feet, your eyes and body heavy with fatigue. You look over at your allies as they too begin to gather themselves, ready to begin out travels which would lead us to a new destination. You had no idea hat to expect, so far the whole arena had been filled with surprises so when you come across what looked like to be an abandoned town your eyes widen for a moment, confused at what you were seeing. Never had you ever expected to come across something like this, the whole idea seemed surreal to you.

Then to of no where two tributes appear, not pausing even for a moment one of them strikes, his blade neatly cutting the flesh of Potato’s chest. You heart stops for a moment, until you realise that the attack was far from fatal. From somewhere within you, anger flares. And your eyes travel to the boy behind the one who had attacked first. You needed to be the next one to make a move, you needed to intercept the other boys attack- Nocturnes attack. You run for him, but stop. You knew him, in the training centre you had talked with him a little, you had gotten to know the boy behind the name- even if it was just for a few moments. You knew his name, that was more than you knew about the other boy, the one that had attacked Potato.

Exhaustion and pain and the urge to just be free from any sort of violence makes your mind fuzzy. You don't know what to do. It was not like you knew something deep about this boy, all you knew was his name so why was it so hard to attack him? You had attacked Tiger, hand’t you? So why not him? Was it because of the way she died, was it because you didn't want to be responsible for someones death? You didn't want to be a murderer? But you were a murderer. You had killed those avoxes without a second thought. That was different. that was revenge… and those faces didn't have a name, they were mere strangers to you.

You were hesitating.

Was this going to get you killed?

Was this going to get your allies killed?

You have to be strong.

Taking a deep breath you continue on with your path, your eyes closing as you pull your blade back before thrusting it towards the boy whose face had a name. you were to weak to even look him in the eye as you attacked him.

[attacks nocturne -- sword]
vUrVab1_sword
[Deep Gash on Forehead -- 9.0 damage]

What really defined someone as a monster, wasn't it different in the eyes of everyone? Like the Capitol didn't see themselves as monsters, but yet they killed people off like it picking daisy from a field. Maybe it was because the Captiol was a whole wasn't the monster and the monsters were really the people who lived their, the people who encouraged these games, the people who bet and sponsored their favourites because they were the monsters. The ones who betted were disgusting, the ones who sponsored were even worse. (this was because they gave hope; hope that was only short lived; hope that was demolished when the next fight ams around.)

But as an individual people may not seem as a monster but as someone who is truing to survive. People look past that fact with Potato though, because he wasn't just a feeble kid trying to fight his way threw to the other side, he had lived the head of a girl cleanly of her shoulders- the wouldn't people view him differently to you? Wouldn't they call him a monster over you? After all they don't know that you were already a murderer, they don't know that the glove of blood on your hand.

SO now, as you swing your blade you see yourself as a monster- not when you killed the avoxes, but now. Never in your life had you ever wished to physically inflict pain upon another, all your life you had been a caring girl, always helping those who could not help themselves because that is what you did, as a human begin you were obligated to help those in need of it. Living in a hospital, even though it was fro the wrong reasons, had also given you insight-

A pain like no other pain you had experience thus far blossoms in the fingers that you placed upon the top of the hilt of your sword. You look down, your eyes truing to pinpoint the source of the pain, desperate to finger out why you felt like some part of you was missing- wait, where were tour fingers? You swore that only moment ago they had been where you left them, clutching the hilt of your sword tightly as you moved it towards Nocturne if efforts to end his life. Your eyes winded because it slowly dawns on you that the two stumps that exist were actually your fingers. Blood pour from the end of them, blood that was symbolic of the pain that was surging threw my body like the angry waves of the ocean. A scream- a delayed one, but one filled with utter agony- escapes your lips and you almost drop your sword, the metal hitting the ground loudly at your feet. Instantly your uninjured hand cups the one that no longer had five fingers on it but three.

Crimson liquid dripping down your arm, splatter across the ground, wiped onto your face as tears slipped from your eyes. It hurt. It hurt so much, never had you ever felt anything like it. it hurt, it hurt, it huuurtttttt.

You stare at your hand for war seems life forever, before a frown slip ins into your pretty face, your eyes looking up to meet the boy who had removed your fingers from the place where they had always been- it was like losing a part of you; literally.

“You bastard! That fucking hurt!” Never before had woods this foul ever been said aloud past the pull lips they escape now. “Why the would you do that? Were they not pretty enough? What did they even fucking do to you? Its not like i took your thumb!” you screech as him, your hands reaching out to pick up the weapon that you had dropped. “You know, Nocturne is right, you should probably get the fuck outta here cause your not gonna like what happens next.” You didn't know what was going to happen next, but you knew you were going to keep your blade away from the stupid sand colour hair boy. Why wouldn't he run? was it because he didn't want to leave Nocturne? if so, you would make him hurt, you would make Nocturne hurt just how much you hurt right now.

“You have your friend to blame for this.”

[attacks nocturne -- sword]
yK4Cx9UVsword
[Deep Gash on Forehead -- 9.0 damage]