Periphery // Katelyn one-shot
Jul 1, 2015 17:19:28 GMT -5
Post by charade on Jul 1, 2015 17:19:28 GMT -5
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Watching the games after having survived them was an experience. An experience that Katelyn realized would be repeated every year from that point on and it scared the hell out of her. Knowing what it was like to smell the blood coating every weapon, experiencing the delirium that came with shoddily patching up numerous wounds on a diet that only allowed for food and water every few days, and watching night after night as the sky lit up with the faces of enemies and allies?
Katelyn watched the screen as night stole over it and the tributes faded away to be replaced by the commentators. She flicked it off, not wanting to hear Caesar’s latest attempts at dark humor and settled into her chair. She hadn’t slept in two days and it showed, from the bags under her eyes to the loping walks she made around the room. The Capitol afforded its mentors every comfort available, and the fully stocked and refrigerator had been ransacked in an effort to make something edible.
The result had been a pair of pumpkin pies that now sat cooling on the counter behind her, flour and other baking ingredients strewn about her apron and her coating her hands, as well as the floor, as she had destroyed her first attempt in a rage. As always, cooking was cathartic for her, but it was little help against the constant tirade of violence that assailed her mind. The games had started off slow to begin with. Unlike the previous year, where a fourth of the tributes had perished before the first day had been out, only two tributes died in the bloodbath.
Just two.
One of the many careers and a girl from seven.
Kirito had done better than her to begin with, not losing any allies in the bloodbath and establishing himself as a leader among his alliance, which to Katelyn’s dismay included two careers. The girl from eight seemed trustworthy, but the other girls gave her unpleasant memories of Quartz and Hedvig.
And then Kirito had killed the girl from seven. That made Katelyn’s stomach turn. She remembered all too well ending Dillon’s life in her bloodbath and the change it had wrought in her, even as she rationalized the killing as necessary for survival and as a mercy to her victim. The second day had brought with it mutts and much work for Katelyn.
Eager to prove herself as a mentor she had managed to get sponsors to pay attention to her tribute, as well as his allies; a process made somewhat easier by virtue of the fact that she was still the newest victor and thus fresh in many capitolites minds, as well as because of the few kills that had been made. The hellhounds had been swiftly dealt with and she has breathed easier, if only for a moment. Kirito’s demeanor was slowly growing unsettling, as was the lack of tribute deaths.
Every alliance managed to kill the slavering animals that came after them in the rusted junkheap that was the arena (a place that reminded Katelyn of district three to some degree), and the pit in her stomach grew. The gamemakers would not sit idly by and let things be this easy. Something terrible would befall the tributes the next day. And it did. Katelyn had shrieked in horror at the screen when the friggin cornucopia was revealed to be alive and it proceeded to kill a pair of tributes in as many minutes, wounding several others before being set on fire and ungraciously collapsing.
The career pack that Orion was a part of killed two tributes as well, one fell to an arrow belonging to Circe Lyon, and the other fell to the walking catastrophe that was Gunner La Torre. Katelyn had mouthed a silent thank you at Orion for not being the hand that ended the lives, even if he helped them towards it, but felt rather uncomfortable to see the chemistry between him and Circe. She reminded herself that she hardly knew anything about him, just what he had told her and what she knew of Mason, and pushed the thought away, focusing on her tribute.
When it came to Kirito’s alliance, the other girl from two had stabbed a boy from ten to death, just mere moments before the sole tribute from district three killed Rhyme from district one with some strange variation of throwing knife. But all of that paled in comparison to the change that had overtaken Kirito. Her fears had not been unfounded. The madness had him. Gone was the timid boy that had eaten meals with her on the ride to the capitol and in between training. In his place, was something not unlike Chaske Parks. The goosebumps that had risen on her neck sent shivers down her only moments before she had covered her face with flour dusted hands.
She stared at the blank screen and bit her bottom lip in aggravation. Sixteen tributes left, and if the past games were anything to go by, then a minimum of five more days were left as well before a victor would be crowned. Kirito was on his own now, but she swore to herself that he still had her. She'd have to remind him of that before he lost himself completely; unless he already had. Either way, she’d continue helping him, and maybe district eleven would go a year without burying anyone.
made by anzie
| Katelyn | Persimmon |
Watching the games after having survived them was an experience. An experience that Katelyn realized would be repeated every year from that point on and it scared the hell out of her. Knowing what it was like to smell the blood coating every weapon, experiencing the delirium that came with shoddily patching up numerous wounds on a diet that only allowed for food and water every few days, and watching night after night as the sky lit up with the faces of enemies and allies?
Katelyn watched the screen as night stole over it and the tributes faded away to be replaced by the commentators. She flicked it off, not wanting to hear Caesar’s latest attempts at dark humor and settled into her chair. She hadn’t slept in two days and it showed, from the bags under her eyes to the loping walks she made around the room. The Capitol afforded its mentors every comfort available, and the fully stocked and refrigerator had been ransacked in an effort to make something edible.
The result had been a pair of pumpkin pies that now sat cooling on the counter behind her, flour and other baking ingredients strewn about her apron and her coating her hands, as well as the floor, as she had destroyed her first attempt in a rage. As always, cooking was cathartic for her, but it was little help against the constant tirade of violence that assailed her mind. The games had started off slow to begin with. Unlike the previous year, where a fourth of the tributes had perished before the first day had been out, only two tributes died in the bloodbath.
Just two.
One of the many careers and a girl from seven.
Kirito had done better than her to begin with, not losing any allies in the bloodbath and establishing himself as a leader among his alliance, which to Katelyn’s dismay included two careers. The girl from eight seemed trustworthy, but the other girls gave her unpleasant memories of Quartz and Hedvig.
And then Kirito had killed the girl from seven. That made Katelyn’s stomach turn. She remembered all too well ending Dillon’s life in her bloodbath and the change it had wrought in her, even as she rationalized the killing as necessary for survival and as a mercy to her victim. The second day had brought with it mutts and much work for Katelyn.
Eager to prove herself as a mentor she had managed to get sponsors to pay attention to her tribute, as well as his allies; a process made somewhat easier by virtue of the fact that she was still the newest victor and thus fresh in many capitolites minds, as well as because of the few kills that had been made. The hellhounds had been swiftly dealt with and she has breathed easier, if only for a moment. Kirito’s demeanor was slowly growing unsettling, as was the lack of tribute deaths.
Every alliance managed to kill the slavering animals that came after them in the rusted junkheap that was the arena (a place that reminded Katelyn of district three to some degree), and the pit in her stomach grew. The gamemakers would not sit idly by and let things be this easy. Something terrible would befall the tributes the next day. And it did. Katelyn had shrieked in horror at the screen when the friggin cornucopia was revealed to be alive and it proceeded to kill a pair of tributes in as many minutes, wounding several others before being set on fire and ungraciously collapsing.
The career pack that Orion was a part of killed two tributes as well, one fell to an arrow belonging to Circe Lyon, and the other fell to the walking catastrophe that was Gunner La Torre. Katelyn had mouthed a silent thank you at Orion for not being the hand that ended the lives, even if he helped them towards it, but felt rather uncomfortable to see the chemistry between him and Circe. She reminded herself that she hardly knew anything about him, just what he had told her and what she knew of Mason, and pushed the thought away, focusing on her tribute.
When it came to Kirito’s alliance, the other girl from two had stabbed a boy from ten to death, just mere moments before the sole tribute from district three killed Rhyme from district one with some strange variation of throwing knife. But all of that paled in comparison to the change that had overtaken Kirito. Her fears had not been unfounded. The madness had him. Gone was the timid boy that had eaten meals with her on the ride to the capitol and in between training. In his place, was something not unlike Chaske Parks. The goosebumps that had risen on her neck sent shivers down her only moments before she had covered her face with flour dusted hands.
She stared at the blank screen and bit her bottom lip in aggravation. Sixteen tributes left, and if the past games were anything to go by, then a minimum of five more days were left as well before a victor would be crowned. Kirito was on his own now, but she swore to herself that he still had her. She'd have to remind him of that before he lost himself completely; unless he already had. Either way, she’d continue helping him, and maybe district eleven would go a year without burying anyone.
