i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7

ali
Retired Staff

1,729 POSTS
Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Dec 5, 2023 17:17:50 GMT -5

Ohana means family

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 21, 2015 13:20:03 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ali on Nov 21, 2015 13:20:03 GMT -5

Daria Staite
{district four tribute}

.:: Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down ::.

The wind feels soft on her face as she watched the night sky, her knife lying on the grass beside her and the balors tooth in her hand. The girl from four had wrenched it out of the creatures mouth, as proof of her allies triumph against a demon from the depths of hell; the curve of the tooth fit nicely against the curl of her fingers as she held onto it for dear life. She could feel the serrated edge press against the palm of her hand as her grip tightened and she thought that she might draw blood if she pressed far enough but Daria Staite was not quite that daring.

She may have been fears puppet, tied to him by strings of silver, but he could only play so much. Dabble with her emotions like they were piano keys until a string broke. Since Rodrick she could feel fear distancing himself, fear himself feared Daria herself when she was under the control of the flame which burned so brightly inside her. He cowered away from the light which glowed brightly in the dark through her skin, the hell inside her smoking through the cracks in her delicate armour of porcelain skin. Fear was fleeting, yet when the sky lit up again, she could feel his eyes on her again as she waited.

Waited for Jerquity Eckhart’s face to appear there, her smirk, her brown flowing hair and dark brown eyes. She feared that she would not appear there, that she would still be alive. Daria’s eyes flickered across the sky as the sigil of the Capitol flickered away and was replaced by the face of a girl she did not recognise other than that she was from District 11. Daria watched eagerly as the bombshell of a woman slowly flickered away, only to be followed by the darkness of the night sky, storm clouds still swirling silently above the cliffs.

Her heart sank and she gripped the balor tooth even tighter still-is that even possible? she thought- as her knuckles whitened as her fingers curled tighter around the creatures tooth and she continued to stare at the softening clouds, her whole body itching for Jerquity’s face to appear there. She waited and waited but it did not come, the sky did not light up and even though Daria could have sworn she was only watching the clouds, the night sky for only a second, she watched it for hours until she drifted, slowly, surely, into an empty sleep.

She woke, the sky brightening before her very eyes, the grey clouds not parting to allow the sun to breach the cover completely. Through the trails of grass she could see the sea in the distance. Oh how she missed the sea. Closing her eyes again the girl from four, whose dark hair ruffled slightly in the gentle breeze which blew across the sea of grass from out at sea, she imagined herself on the beach in Four again, the same beach she was on the morning of the reaping. She could almost feel the warmth of the sun against her cheeks, the dabble of ocean froth against her tiptoes and the rough yet soft feel of the sand against her finger tips. She missed home.

Her eyes opened again as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Almost immediately her brow furrowed and her hand grasped at the hilt of her knife as the balor tooth slid from her stomach and onto her knees. Tyler and Heather were nowhere to be seen, the places they had been sleeping were absent, and the imprints of their bodies were pressed into the grass but slowly fading. They’d left her, they’d abandoned her. The young girl felt smoke rise from the cracks in her skin, her sharp exhale bought more with it and she was about to scream out for them, the only sound she could really make that they would understand, but something caught her eye.

Her fox, the silver creature stood before her, its beady eyes watching her- almost sadly- as it began to disintegrate into smoke. Like embers, the fox began to crumble away and Daria reached out with her trembling hand to touch the creature’s head one last time before it died. could it even die? she thought as she cupped the creatures snout in the curve of her hand. The creature- of course- did not answer and simply, crumbled into a glittering grey smoke at her touch. Daria inhaled sharply and bit her lip. It cannot die Daria told herself as she watched as the smoke began to fade, like fog on an early spring day.

As the mist began to dissipate, a shadow in the distance caught her eye. Daria gaze flittered upwards and she saw someone moving, hobbling, across the cliffs, swaying in the wind that danced across the cliffs edge. Her eyes narrowed as she observed the body, it had long flowing hair, pale skin, square jaw and brown eyes, absent of both a foot and an arm; she did not take long to realize who this body belonged to.

There was a rumble inside her, as the fire and flame began to burst through rock and earth, spewing ash and boiling molten rock onto her world, running across the land like treacle. Smoke billowed from the cracks in her earth and some of it escaped through the armour of skin as the rage began to fuel her whole being. She pushed herself up onto her singular foot and began to hobble, tumbling, forgetting the pain to the fire which raged inside her as her lips curled into a snarl with the girls name on her mind Jerquity.

Daria ran, more like stumbled and fell, across the cliffs towards the girl. The pain from her stump foot, was absent but the pain which tore through her heart as she stared at the girl with her wild blue eyes was indescribable. She felt tears, warm fresh, well in her eyes as she let out a scream, a cry, deep and guttural as she threw her whole body at the girl. She moved her hand to her lips, straight and ridged as if she were praying with one hand before she moved it forward sharply, signing the word Bitch; she had seen Jerquity using sign language at the training centre so she knew that the girl would recognise the gesture.

Reaching down, Daria grabbed her knife as she moved towards the girl. She raised it up and bought it down in one smooth gesture.

[Daria Staite attacks Jerquity Eckhart]
mTlbV|Kjknife
[2166 -- Severed Left Ear -- 8.0 damage]

knife

Last Edit: Nov 21, 2015 13:21:31 GMT -5 by ali

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

arx
Retired Staff

2,424 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Apr 18, 2024 20:03:20 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 21, 2015 14:33:53 GMT -5

Quote

Post by arx on Nov 21, 2015 14:33:53 GMT -5

Jequirity

˟ ˟ ˟

Whispers in my ears reveal the ghosts that haunt me. The notes of an accordion say, ("You've lost yourself.") I curl my knees to my chest and watch as the storm disappears and the rumbling of thunder grows more and more distant. But even then I still hear the message in the boom, boom, boom: ("Die, die, die.") The waves roll and crash and I hear them, too; they have betrayed me.

("You're not strong enough to win. You're not strong enough to take another life.")

My attention drifts to the resting forms of Ruth and Septys. The dark and the cold greet me like I am an old friend, embracing me as the moonlight washes over my pale skin. I grab my sword, throw my bag over my shoulder. The crown on my head burns against my skull, but I don't know what else to do with it. For now I'll pretend at being a queen. A siren sings: ("Lost?")

I sigh and take one last look at Ruth and Septys. And then I'm gone. I'm as dead as the men walking circles around Katelyn Persimmon. I'm as lost as Ellexias Veristy's heart. I want to be made immortal but lack the heart of a Lyon. I'm as sad as Wyatt O'Connor, but want to curse like Galaxy Rose-Clements. My body will win, but my soul won't be there when it does.

I climb through the pain. This is much more difficult without Saxton's arm wrapped around me. I slip; I scream. My voice echoes through the fog and I hear a siren sing back to me. I scream again; she mimics me. I laugh because if I don't I will cry. And I don't want to cry, not anymore, not ever. I will have a smile on my face the moment the last cannon fires, the moment I get to go home. I'll smile for all to see as an endless barrage of bullets pierces holes through my heart.

The children on the Victory tour will point to each hole and declare: "That one is from Hannah."

And another will cry: "And that one is from Saxton!"

And the list will be endless as new holes appear bearing new names. "I think that one is from Leo." And they will take pause and contemplate. "No perhaps that one is from Rodrick instead?" And they will ponder until more appear as stray bullets hit me—"Whoa! That one looks like it's from Lexi! And that one from Marchello! Wyatt and Geo and Gabi! They weren't even in her games!" And they will point and they will 'oooo' and 'aaaa' as more and more souls pierce holes in my heart.

And I will grin as the wounds fester and burn and bleed and simply nod and smile, nod and smile, nod and smile. I wouldn't let them think it hurt, wouldn't let them have that satisfaction. I've already shown them all too much. They don't deserve anymore.

I'll hide the hurt behind a smile and cry when no one is looking.

I'll wear the flashy crown to distract from my misery.

I'll ignore the bloodstain on my hand until the lights go out and no one can see me plunging my fist into a bowl of lye.

I'm in pieces, I'm torn and tattered and beaten—but they will never know.

Daria comes at me and I grin. 'Bitch.' How cute. I move to reply but she is on me in a matter of seconds, her knife slicing at my ear. I screech as pain radiates through my skull. Blood gathers between my fingers, hot and sticky. My crown lays upside down on the ground.

I hold up the only middle finger I've got left.

And in as swift a movement as I can manage, I take up my sword. I laugh.

˟ ˟ ˟

I know I would give it all back
For a chance to start over
And rewrite an ending or two
For the girl that I knew

Jequirity attacks Daria Staite with Claymore
P0a0ntMosword
[Deep Gash on Stomach -- ~~9.0~~ ~~10.0~~ jk 9.0 damage]

sword

Last Edit: Nov 21, 2015 15:27:51 GMT -5 by arx

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

ali
Retired Staff

1,729 POSTS
Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Dec 5, 2023 17:17:50 GMT -5

Ohana means family

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 21, 2015 18:39:43 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ali on Nov 21, 2015 18:39:43 GMT -5

Daria Staite
{district four tribute}

.:: Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down ::.

It is ironic that a girl without the benefit of hearing, slices another girl’s ear off in a fit of rage. Her knife cuts through the muscles that hold the ear to her head with such ease, that Daria surprises herself. The edge of the blade cuts through skin, muscle, more skin with one foul swoop, leaving only a gaping bloody hole behind where the appendage had once been. Jerquity mouth opens, a scream perhaps, but Daria cannot hear her; it does not matter because the pain on the girls face as she reaches up and presses a hand to the side of her head, tells Daria Staite everything she needs to know. As the crown bounces against the grass at their feet (that is, their singular foot each) her lips curl into a smirk.

The smirk is quickly washed away, like words written in the sand or the moon on an overcast windy evening, as Jerquity Eckhart’s gallant sword swipes across her stomach, slicing the skin and muscle, creating a gash which soon fills with blood. This time, it is Daria who lets out a cry as she feels the burning flames burst through her armour where the pressure was released, steam, ash and smoke from the smouldering ruins of Daria Staite burst through the kink in her skin. Daria’s eyes glance down, and she sees the red flame of blood eating away at her once-white shirt, creeping across the cotton slowly, crawling away from where the fabric had parted to reveal her bloody skin beneath.

Though this wound threatened to extinguish her flame, and the pain made her stomach squirm and it seemed to only fuel the fire more. Raising her head, Daria caught sight of a sign that she knew far too well. Almost snarling, she bared her teeth as if she were some kind of wild beast. A creature stuck inside a cage, bursting to get out. Luckily for Jerquity, or unluckily, dependent on the view at which you view the situation, the door to Daria’s cage was open and she was unafraid to unleash another attack on the girl with one foot, one arm and now only one ear; she had absolutely no qualms in taking something else from the girl, but first she decided to taunt her.

She pointed to Jerquity beginning to sign “You may be a queen, Jerquity Eckhart ~~instead of signing her full name, Daria simply replaced it with the sign for Bitch~~ but I am here to fucking burn your kingdom down and you can’t stop me Jerquity ~~bitch.~~”

The signing came out mangled, her broken arm meant that that hand was less able to complete the sign but she managed and once she had moved her hand in that ridged, singular straight hand forward gesture, she glowered and spat at Jerquity’s feet before she drew the arm she held the knife in over her should and powered it towards Jerquity. I will watch you die Jerquity. Daria Staite thought as she glared as the blade of the knife drew towards Jerquity’s body That is a promise.

[Daria Staite attacks Jerquity Eckhart]
K65dPPAdknife
[2048 -- Deep Gash on Right Bicep -- 8.0 damage]

knife

Last Edit: Nov 21, 2015 18:40:44 GMT -5 by ali

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

arx
Retired Staff

2,424 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Apr 18, 2024 20:03:20 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 21, 2015 19:23:31 GMT -5

Quote

Post by arx on Nov 21, 2015 19:23:31 GMT -5

Jequirity

˟ ˟ ˟

'You may be a queen, bitch, but I am here to fucking burn your kingdom down and you can’t stop me.'

She spits at my feet, a gesture that can really only be swallowed in one fashion: disgust. But before I can move to drive my blade through her skull her knife is digging deep into my arm, the arm that her precious Rodrick took half of a few days ago. She thinks she has the right to kill me—as far as I know, we should be on even marks.

She calls me a queen because I've got a crown. She calls me a bitch because I killed Rodrick. She claims she is here to burn my kingdom down. My crown is too heavy; I don't want it. I killed Rodrick because he took music from me, took Saxton from me. And I have no kingdom to burn—I've got corpses clawing at my at me from all angles, souls whispering their last words in my ears, and enough blood that I can barely keep my head above the surface of it to breathe.

If she wants to burn all that down I won't complain.

But as soon as she's finished I will watch her collapse beneath the weight of all she takes from me. I will watch as every corpse climbs atop her back and crushes her. I will laugh as she screams, her ears finally hearing the words of the dead. She'll scream in broken English—"I didn't know! I--I--" And Galaxy will reply for me. "Everything’s gotta be about you." And I will use Siren Baitwell's last words against her—"You can see him again when you're dead!"—when she claims this is all for Rodrick.

And then I will drive my sword through her heart. I will take back my ashen kingdom and I will put the crown back on top of my head. And then I will add her to my pile of corpses and demons and move on with the added weight on my shoulders. But I won't break.

It's like she says...

Jequirity attacks Daria Staite with Claymore
JhCNLLHzsword
[Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage]

I am a queen. It's my burden to carry, not her's.

˟ ˟ ˟

I know I would give it all back
For a chance to start over
And rewrite an ending or two
For the girl that I knew

sword

Last Edit: Nov 21, 2015 19:24:42 GMT -5 by arx

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

ali
Retired Staff

1,729 POSTS
Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Dec 5, 2023 17:17:50 GMT -5

Ohana means family

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 22, 2015 3:53:43 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ali on Nov 22, 2015 3:53:43 GMT -5

Daria Staite
{district four tribute}

.:: Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down ::.

Her knife, a now ruby red jewel utop a leather hilt, sliced through the top of Jerquitity’s stump arm, drawing more blood to the surface. Daria’s lips almost twitched as she watched the blood trickle from the deep, gaping, gash on her half arm, down to its tip where it dripped off slowly, like a leaky faucet or melt water dripping off the tip of an icicle. The stench of blood filled the air and for once Daria did not recoil from the smell this time. It was unlike yesterday or the day before, where the blood smelt bitter, tart against the cold air but Jerquitity’s blood? Well. That smelt of sweeter than summers rain in mid-August; it was far from bitter.

Except her own blood tainted the scent, turned it sour. She could taste it on her tongue, the sharp irony taste, mixing with bile which churned in her stomach, it mixes with the taste of fallen ash on her tongue, the stench of brimstone, sulphuric and far too sour for Daria to even handle. The smell of rotting, burning earth engulfs her but the most potent stench is that of her own blood. It stands out, like sore thumb, against everything else and it makes her sick because it smells like death more than anyone else’s blood, more than Rodrick Benstaloes blood pooling in the sand on the beach, more than Saxton Hale’s blood flooding from her veins, more than Leo Everett’s blood soaking the peat bog; it smells like death, more so than others, because Daria Staite can tell she’s dying.
Slowly.

Jerquitity’s sword takes a knick out of Daria’s thigh, drawing the blood to the surface. She doesn’t even feel it, the pain against the burning of her stomach as fire crawls from the break in her armour, the only reason she knows she is bleeding somewhere else is because she feels a thin line of ruby red blood trickle down the front of her leg, filling the crevasse of her skin, filling the nooks and crannies between the hairs on her leg. It feels scolding hot, like someone had trickled hot candle wax across her skin. Daria does not even glance down to see the damage, she keeps her eyes cold set on Jerquitity’s face, blood pooling in the space where her ear used to be.

Daria does not grace Jerquitity with anymore small talk, she simply just waves goodbye before she lunges at her again. If Daria could not watch the world burn, she would want to watch Jerquitity’s body burn at the very least. She wanted to see her screaming as the smoke, the fire, the brimstone engulfed her as it dragged her by her ankles to deaths door and she hoped he would take her slowly. Surely. So that she knew she was dying and that she wasn’t going to get out of this one…that she knew she were dead. Then again, Daria knew just as well as Jerquitiy that they had both died a long time ago; back when they breathed the first air of the arena.

The Games was slowly killing them with each and every breath; Daria just had to make sure that Jerquity’s next breath would be her last.

[Daria Staite attacks Jerquity Eckhart]
h9rFz88Wknife
[2184 -- Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage]

knife

Last Edit: Nov 22, 2015 3:55:09 GMT -5 by ali

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

arx
Retired Staff

2,424 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Apr 18, 2024 20:03:20 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 22, 2015 10:39:52 GMT -5

Quote

Post by arx on Nov 22, 2015 10:39:52 GMT -5

Jequirity

˟ ˟ ˟

She waves at me. If I were an optimist I would read it as, 'Hello.' But all orphaned girls grow up to be pessimists and the bloody knife in her hand tells me she'd rather see me take my last breath right here and now than see me slowly suffocate under the weight of all the memories I carry. How thoughtful.

She slices at me and I jump away. The tip of her blade still catches me across my thigh, slicing another long tear in my kilt. I grimace, but don't flinch to catch the blood. I only let it drip, carving a canyon into my leg as it goes.

Apparently we were done with chit-chat now. So I lunge.

Jequirity attacks Daria Staite with Claymore
nng0Mjd6sword
[Shallow Cut on Left Hip -- 3.5 damage]

I lose my balance and topple haphazardly passed her, leaving only a small cut on her hip. I roll over as quickly as I can to defend. I point my blade at her, smiling because I promised myself I would. It's what Careers did right? Smiled in the face of death? Smiled as they killed? The good ones even laugh. But I haven't enough gumption left to even pull nervous laughter from my chest.

"Read my lips," I say aloud, knowing full well she can't hear me. Hell I can barely hear myself. "I have to go home. You can stick a knife in my eye if you'd like," I say, using my stub to point. "But even that isn't going to kill me. I've already decided."

I shake my head—at myself, at her, at everyone and everything. I miss home. I miss my Moms. I miss my sisters. I miss playing the violin, the piano, the cello, viola, harp. I miss it all to no end. And there is no way I'm not getting it all back. I'll admit it—I'm selfish. I didn't learn to share because my Moms gave me everything I could ever want. I always get what I want. This would be no different.

She's going to let me kill her. Because that's what I want.

"Make it my left eye. Maybe they'll sponsor me an eye patch so I'll look just like Elya."

˟ ˟ ˟

I know I would give it all back
For a chance to start over
And rewrite an ending or two
For the girl that I knew

sword

Last Edit: Nov 22, 2015 11:50:18 GMT -5 by arx

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

ali
Retired Staff

1,729 POSTS
Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Dec 5, 2023 17:17:50 GMT -5

Ohana means family

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 22, 2015 12:41:37 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ali on Nov 22, 2015 12:41:37 GMT -5

Daria Staite
{district four tribute}

.:: Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down ::.

Jerquitity’s skin on her thigh barely splits at the touch of the blade, the sharp edge barely grazed her pale skin and the blood that fills the cut is only briefly, barely anything, it trickles down the crook of her knee before the stream runs dry. Daria pursed her lips, disappointment fills her body slowly, disappointment that not more of Jerquitity’s blood had been spilt. That her blade had only just cut through the surface of the skin; Jequirity was strong.

She had survived the brink of death once, Daria had seen it, and she had caused it. Sliced the knife across her and yet here she was. Fighting back. It seemed to be Jerquitity’s strong point, fighting back. Even after she’d lost an arm, a foot, she was still here, Death was trying to take her but she was putting up a fight, kicking, screaming and dragging her bloody nails into the dirt, anchoring herself there so she could not be moved. No matter how much death tried, Jerquitity would over power her. Jerquitity was strong, she was a fighter; she didn’t seem to relent in her attacks.

And it made her want to scream, breath fire, ash, expel the brimstone from her lungs in one almighty blast of fear, regret, rage. She wanted to scream until she could scream no more, burn Jerquitity to the ground like she was made of nothing but timber and thatch; except Jequirity was made of marble, hard tough stone that was heard to break. The Games had weathered her, parts of her broken off bit by bit but she was still standing strong, no matter how much the sea battered her or the wind threatened to topple her, she still stood strong. And that infuriated Daria.

It did not help that seconds later, Jerquitity’s sword sliced through the skin on her hip. Steam, ash, fire hissed from the wound and a hiss passed through Daria’s teeth and she exhaled sharply. The wild beast inside her, the caged animal free to roam wild, was being taunted and tempered far too quickly; she felt a rumble of a growl deep in her chest as the girl from six poked and prodded her with a sword as if she were some beast at the zoo. Daria glowered. Jequirity was playing with fire and she began to fuel it with words that Daria Staite- the deaf girl from Four- could not hear but could perfectly understand.

"Read my lips, I have to go home. You can stick a knife in my eye if you'd like, but even that isn't going to kill me. I've already decided." the brown haired girl pointed her stump arm at Daria, her lips snarling the words sharply. Daria may have not been able to hear, but she could tell when someone was angry. The way people’s faces contorted into a monstrous face, furrowed brow and eyes narrowed, bared teeth; but she could also see the desperation in Jerquitity’s eyes, the eyes were the most important part of someone to Daria. She could see the lies, the truth, through the mask that Jerquitity was wearing.

Daria could have hesitated, she could have paused for a fraction of a second. She could have hesitated in her next attack but then the girl’s mouth moved again, taunting her "Make it my left eye. Maybe they'll sponsor me an eye patch so I'll look just like Elya”. For a second, a moment, the fear and desperation faded from Jerquity’s eyes, it melted away, softly, slowly, and then it was gone and replaced with an unruly gaze, taunting- the same gaze she had given, perhaps, Daria could not quite remember, nor did she care to remember, when she had killed Rodrick.

Then taunting stare was gone and replaced with the desperation again but by that point, Daria had already lunged at the girl, slashing her knife, ruby red and silver, glistening gold in the afternoon sun, at Jerquity’s neck with a wild and crazed look in her eyes.

[Daria Staite attacks Jerquity Eckhart]
n36NEutcknife
[2102 -- Slit Throat -- 40 damage]

knife

Last Edit: Nov 23, 2015 12:56:40 GMT -5 by ali

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

ali
Retired Staff

1,729 POSTS
Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Dec 5, 2023 17:17:50 GMT -5

Ohana means family

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 23, 2015 18:54:33 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ali on Nov 23, 2015 18:54:33 GMT -5

Daria Staite
{district four tribute}

.:: Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down ::.

The blade sliced through her skin like it was nothing. The skin split at its touch, a gash spreading across the girl’s neck slowly but surely, allowing for blood to gurgle up through the gap and slither down the crook of her neck. The rub red liquid glistened in the overcast sun, trickling down across her pale skin, it looked hauntingly beautiful in the morning light. Like a ruby necklace, it hung around her neck in an ark, tendrils of blood forming dangling gems and with each passing second, a new tendril of jewels grew down the curve of the girls neck.

Daria watched Jerquitity begin to topple. Her castle walls, the fortified defences, the protection that had been her shelter for so very long, had come crashing down suddenly. The crumbling brick and mortar and shattering glass and splintering wood erupted dust high into the air around the statue which was Jerquity Eckhart and this allowed the fire and sea in. The ocean rushed in first, fast, flooding her at her feet, eating away at the base of her. The salt water eroded and tore at her feet, or foot, the surface froffing in bubbles and blobs of white and slight shades of grey as parts of the statue crumbled and fell into its swirling, churning waves.

And then she watched as fire dealt with the rest. The heat engulfed the statue first, a wavering haze forming between Daria- on her island in the ocean and the brimstone- and Jequirtity. The edges of her body, the expertly carved edges of her skin and hair became fuzzy in this mist of fire; through it though, the girl from Four could see cracks beginning to form in the girls stone hard skin ~~Her own hand reached to touch the cracks in her armour, her skin felt rough against her finger tips~~ and then the flames began to take hold and then there was nothing that could stop the fire taking the statue with it. It began to crumble into ash at the flamed touch, Daria’s rage knocked the great Jequitity Eckhart down, her kingdom had fallen.

Daria blinked and suddenly the girl from 6 was tumbling away from her, it happened so slowly. The blood gurgled from the wound and then Jequirtity was falling backwards, falling into the ocean of grass which danced aimlessly in the wind. The moment that her body hit the ground, Daria was almost certain that she could feel the richoett of the canon echo through her body but the girl could still see that Jequirity was floundering for air; the sudden wave of something that had hit her chest, was no canon sounding to mark the death of the girl from six, the girl who had cried at the death of her friends, the girl who had once held a violin and a bow string in her hand, the girl who had killed Rodrick Benstaloe…

The suddenly punch to Daria’s gut was the sudden release of emotion. Daria had been smothered by the death of Rodrick for so very long, that she had forgotten what I felt like to feel, grief, regret, anger, pride, happiness. And so when it came rushing back, all at once, spreading that fire through her body like she were nothing more than timber. It caught quickly, and suddenly Daria was screaming out loud. Releasing that pent up emotion, the pain that had brewed in her for far too long. Despite the fact that Jequirity was dying, dying at her hands, the girls blood soaking the ground at Daria’s foot, it did not stop that pain she had begun to feel when she’d felt Rodrick take his last breathes. She had thought, that killing Jequirtity would have made her feel good.

Except it made her feel exactly the same. She felt pain, regret, grief and suddenly Jequiritiy’s blood wasn’t so sweet smelling. It smelt worse than even her own and the girl from four clamped her hands over her mouth and nose to stop the wretched stench of death but her hands were covered in blood too, it barely masked the spell and she felt as if she were drowning, with her blood stained hand clamped over her dry, chapped lips. Suddenly the world was crushing her, even when she’s let go of her own face, the suffocation still lingered as her breathing came out in sobs, crashing to her knees as the weight on her shoulders became too much.

Looking at her hand which lay in the lap of her tattered kilt, Daria Staite’s brow furrowed. What have I done…
Time seemed to stand still for that moment she questioned her actions but the world kept spinning and Daria felt a warm breeze of air wash over her, just as the real canon echoed through Daria’s bones, the vibrations lingering in the hollows of her eyelids. The sensation was unusual, it was not the normal sort of warmth one would expect from the wind. It felt more like the warmth someone experienced when arms wrapped around your body; the warmth of a comforting hug. It was bizarre, the sensation, but it was calming non the less. So a few moments later, Daria inhaled, exhaled and opened her eyes.

Then she got to work.

There was not long until the hover ship arrived to take Jerquitity’s body. She was going home, she was going back home and Daria- as much as she hated the girl, as much as she made her blood boil- she could not see her go home in the mess she had left her. So carefully, Daria dug into her bag and pulled out the cloak she had picked up at the feast on the first day; she had never used it and it didn’t seem that important so she began using it to gently, carefully, clean her skin of blood. It was tricky, the blood stuck a little, and with no water it was hard to remove that slightly orange tinge from where the blood had sunk into the crevasses.

When she was done, she draped the cloak over Jequirtity’s body from her shoulders downwards and tucked the fabric beneath her. Then she returned the crown to her head where it rightfully belonged ~~Daria did not know how to be a queen~~. She rested it there the best she could, without it toppling again like it had done when she’d sliced her ear off. With that in place, Daria paused, her eyes moving to the backpack and the sword that Jequirity carried. It was a monstrous beast, silver, ornate. Powerful.

Her hand paused over the hilt before her eyes noticed a tapestry- just like the one she’d used to heal Rodrick that first day- beside it. Her hand brushed over the ornate stitching, the scene depicting Ellexias Versity, with was that Katelyn at her feet on an ice throne. Scooping it up, the girl examined the stitching carefully before placing it gently on Jerquitity’s chest. Daria was unsure why she did that, perhaps to make sure that at least there was some light in this dark place they found themselves in; even though Daria felt she was made of fire, she could barely see in front of her.

Perhaps the burden was too great.

Gathering somethings, getting rid of others, Daria Staite got to her foot, as best as she could, before hobbling away. She thought about looking back, as she stumbled away from the body of Jequirtity Eckhart, but something told her to just keep on looking forward. That looking back wouldn’t change anything, not now. Jequirtity Eckhart was dead, about to be buried in the ground back in District 6 where her family would weep and mourn their child’s loss.

And there was nothing Daria could do about it.

[Daria Staite flees the current fight]
[Daria does a bunch of stuff that i'll put in Maint.]

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

arx
Retired Staff

2,424 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Apr 18, 2024 20:03:20 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

i want it painted black // Jeq & Daria // Day 7 Nov 29, 2015 15:51:34 GMT -5

Quote

Post by arx on Nov 29, 2015 15:51:34 GMT -5

graphic creds to rook

It happens so fast I don't even have time to regret my last words. I'm lying on my back in a matter of seconds choking, choking, choking as my body reflexively coughs in a useless struggle for air. Blood rises from all around and I am drowning, suffocating. My vision grows dark at the edges before I even have the chance to feel like a failure.

Boom.

("Tails and I'll leave. Heads and I'll stay human, Sundra Wie.")¹

He's smiling at me with an idiotic grin, something stupid and real and oh, so beautiful I think I might actually cry. I should hate him but I can't remember why as the coin flies through the air. But then I'm shaking my head, my lips moving to form words—"My name's not---"

("What do you think it feels like to grow old, Sundra?")²

He tugs at my coat sleeve, his eyebrows raised. The only thing I can think to do is raise them back, smile. He slips the gloves from his hands and then his fingers are dancing across my face; they leave trails of warmth across my freezing skin, melting away all my fears and worries and doubts. The answer pops into my mind—It feels like this.³—as his fingers continue to trace lines across my face. The thought isn't my own, I know it, I feel how foreign it is, but I can't... I don't want this to end.

("I'm in life with you, Sundra Bloom, even in death.")⁴

But it does anyway. But it isn't my end and this isn't my story. I finally get the words out as my body becomes just another part of the frozen landscape, lifeless and forever frozen in time.

"I am not Sundra."

("Now you see me, now you don't.")⁵

I watch him come closer, watch as his palm dances over my eyelids. I smile because it doesn't hurt. I smile because I feel like I've lived a full life and lived in the house we they built.

"This isn't my story."

Boom.

("I do love you, Theseus.")⁶

I'm laying on the ground and looking into some of the most stunning green eyes I have ever seen. She wears a crown, looking almost angelic against the backdrop of the sky. My head is pounding a boom, boom, boom and I feel a pain so intense I know I am already dying. But every ounce of me wants move, to get up, to stand from my grave because I can't leave her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love, I love, I-

("I’m… s-sorry…. so sor-..-ry…. Navy…")⁷

The words stutter out of mouth because apparently I am dying, dead, gone. Curtains close. Story ends. For a moment I see Tempus in my vision and remember that Theseus Rhodium was a part of the original Tempus Opera House. I swallow back a sob, force tears back into my eye sockets. This isn't me. This still isn't my story. Why can't I seem to get this right?

Boom.

("Rise and shine, sleeping beauties.")⁸

My lips are saying the words before I can stop them. This was just meant as pure torture, wasn't it? I don't belong here. But adrenaline seems to be driving me now. Mutts, mutts, mutts. They are here and I need to kill them and where is---

('Fuck you twice, I still have all of my fingers.')⁹

Pyrian. The silence is overwhelming, but the rage and exhilaration and flames burning brighter and hotter in my eyes...It felt---I feel like I am playing music. The passion behind my music is as passionate as I feel for the flames, flames, flames. Throw a dart at me and I'll teach you, I'll fucking burn you---No. It's chop off my arm and I'll take your's. That's me. Ripred, what's happening to me?

("Stop it! STOP IT! He's your brother, you can't just-")¹⁰

No, no, no. Please, don't make me feel this. I don't want to play this game anymore. It was great when I got to play Sundra, it was even okay when I was Theseus. But, but---"Please, stop," I beg. My own words, all mine. Tears fill my eyes and flames lick at my skin. The Keeni twins are dying and (I'm losing my child if I can't get home...) River's thoughts intrude on mine. Everything hurts so much. I feel like I've lost everything, everyone. But there is one small, precious, beautiful baby girl waiting for me—no, no her, her River Destin, her this isn't me not my pain no---

"I said stop!"

("You should always fight for your family. Always.")¹¹

"I tried."

(Gravity house antithesis!)¹²

"What?"

('I love you, Py.')¹³

"Please, stop, I'm done, I'm done, I--"

('I love you, too.')¹⁴

Boom. Boom. Boom.

My eyes flutter open slowly. A blinding light makes me flinch away and I move groggily to shield my eyes. My fingers catch only slivers of sunlight, the rest dancing through to meet my skin; It feels like small, warm kisses against my cheeks. I swing my feet over the edge of the bed. My toes press to cold linoleum, sending a shiver up my spine. I rub at my eyes, push my fingers through my hair. I smirk at the empty beds around me. Last to bed, last to rise.

I stand and I'm greeted by all the morning regulars: the smell of breakfast, the soft echo of a piano, the giggling of too many sisters gathered in one room. "Jack, breakfast!" Mom calls up the stairs. I don't bother with a reply, I'm already moving groggily done the stairs. I smile because I'm thankful. I smile because this is normal. I smile because this is home.

I pull a chair out for myself, sitting promptly as my eyes fall on the plate of food in front of me. "Thank you," I say, my voice cracking as sleep still encumbers me. "You're very welcome, sweety," she answers, her voice comforting and familiar—but it doesn't belong to either of my Moms.

My hand closes in a fist around around the fork, my heart quickening as terror grips me in a paralysis. Her eyebrows furrow, her lips falling to something expressionless. "You alright?" She reaches for my hand but I've finally broken free of the ice that had clamped me to my seat. I jerk away, the chair clattering to the ground as I trip over it, falling to the ground. "Jequirity!"

I point the fork at her and scramble to my feet. "I watched--" I struggle to breathe. "I watched you die."

"Mommy, are you okay?"

I look to one of the girls I was certain was my sister sitting around the table. She's looking at me with worried eyes. Me. She called me---Wait, what? I struggle to find the right words. "I don't--" I stammer, but I'm cut off.

"Hannah, please, let Mommy handle this," she scolds the little girl, but she climbs down from her seat anyway, rounding the table to glance at me wearily.

I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't--"You're not real." I gasp, my eyes filling with tears. I shake my head as she comes closer, my back pressed into a corner. I keep the fork out in front of me as she approaches, ready to attack if she dares to come near me. Because she isn't real and this is all some sick mind game. She is only an illusion. I watched her die.

"Stay away from me."

But she comes closer anyway, doing nothing to suggest she was ever going to heed my order. I'm sobbing now as I remember the feeling of my lips against her cheek, the way her blood stuck to my fingertips, the way her heart fell silent. "I watched you die," I say again, looking into her eyes as she falls to her knees in front of me, sitting back on her heels. She reaches for my hand, slowly unfurling my fist with her fingers. The fork clatters to the ground and a hold tight to her hand instead.

"Forgiveness always seems to hurt the most."¹⁵

I cry harder, sob louder. Please, this has to stop. I can't do this forever, it can't be like this for all eternity. But she doesn't disappear. And that's when I have to give in and collapse into her. I hear her heart beat, beat, beating and her arms wrap around me and it feels so real. "Saxton." I hold her tighter, closer, but it doesn't seem like enough. I can still feel her slipping away.

The little girl stands beside Saxton now, watching me as I cry. She smiles, her bright blue eyes blinking at me. I'd know those eyes anywhere. They've been engraved into the back of my skull since the last time they were open. I have to look away, the memory to haunting as the lullaby I played for her bounces around in my mind. She leans in and whispers in my ear—"Crowns do not belong on a head like mine."¹⁶—before placing a soft kiss against my forehead.

And I pull away from Saxton then, looking at the both of them for one last time. The smile comes to my face as easily as the sun rises up over the hills every morning. I could live like this forever, together with them, Saxton and Hannah. But I'd be living a lie.

"They don't belong on mine either."

And then their blood spatters against my face and I flinch in horror.

Boom. Boom.

("Screw your drink!")¹⁷

A half empty bottle falls to the ground, the liquid sloshing and disappearing into the soil beneath my feet. I've felt this way before; is this a memory of mine? The girl in front of me could be my sister, screeching at me to stop the nonsense I started. I was always trying to drag them in, clamping their noses shut while I pressed a bottle of vodka to their lips. Quitting is the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. Even dying can't compare.

("WHAT THE FUCK! I CAN’T DIE SOBER!")¹⁸

The words feel familiar on my tongue, the rage familiar in my heart. This must be a memory of mine. The girl in front of me is still a blur, but it could be any one of my sisters from a few years ago. Scolding me like I was just some dumb kid. But I never got to be a kid, not really. Sure I got what I wanted, yes my Moms gave me everything I could ever want, but what did that matter when I was an orphan? I can feel the hopelessness and the fear kick in as the very last of my drink spills from the bottle.

("You can, and you will.")¹⁹

And her words hit me like a freight train and I feel like crying. Because I can't not listen, not when they all beg me—"Please, Jeq, please just stop. I can't live without my sister, please don't drink yourself away."—with teary eyes and cracked voices. In my own memories I remember crumbling into my mothers' arms and finally agreeing that I needed help. This time my feet carry me away, away, away...

("I DON'T HAVE THE ANSWERS, YOU HEAR? I WISH I DID, BUT I DON'T.")²⁰

But the burn of alcohol in my throat tells me this, once again, is not me. It tastes so good I could cry, the burn and warmth as good as it had been the day I left it all behind. I told myself I wouldn't pick up another bottle again and I meant it. I promised too many people I would never become that girl ever again. I want to spit the whiskey from my lips, but instead, it keeps sliding down my throat. Glug, glug, glug. A sounds once like music to my ears only stings now, reminding me of one of the darkest times in my life.

("Please... Kill me.")²¹

The words that pour from my lips are lies, none of it being my own. I have never begged for death, not when I had a family to go back to. Not when I had to get home. These are the last words and actions of Willis Keeni, the drunk boy who couldn't--- get home, stop drinking, escape death. I need to get back to my own memories, my own demons. I conquered alcohol addiction a long time ago.

"I'm not Willis," I say, waiting patiently for Colgate's axe to end this episode of mine. "I died sober. I kept that promise."

I know that no one is listening. But if I don't say it then I might confuse his memories with my own. I might get lost. Then again, I guess I'm already lost. I'm running through the lost memories of the dead, the demons of wandering souls blending with my own.

Boom.

("I didn't ask for any of this.")²²

("No one asked for this.")²³

"And we all pay for it with our lives, no matter who wins."

Boom.

("The person I was is not the person I am now and because of that I don't know if I could think of home in the same way.")²⁴

"Even without the gash through my throat I wouldn't have gone home."

("You’ve got far too much heart to be a killer.")²⁵

"I killed Rodrick. Does that mean I have no heart?"

("I killed four people, and I left Marchello to die in the middle of the night. Somebody like that can’t have a heart.")²⁶

"Right. So I don't."

("Then at least we’re fighting on the same page.")²⁷

"Maybe we all lose are hearts in this place."

("I don’t think we are.")²⁸

"Maybe it takes the best of us to find them again."

Boom. Boom. Boom.

("I don’t care about any of it anymore, Wyatt. I just… I don’t want to go home in a box. I’m scared.")²⁹

"I just wanted to go home."

("Selfishness is a dangerous trait to wear upon your sleeve.")³⁰

"I tried to hide mine. But I think Daria saw it. I think that's why she killed me."

("I’m begging you for only a second more— I just need another minute here.")³¹

"We can't always have what we want."

(Victors do not come from district six.)³²

"Victors do not come from district six."

Boom. Boom.

It looks like nothing more than red line drawn across my throat, the killing blow. I could be sleeping. But I know better. As Daria stands before my body with a blade soaked in crimson, I know. My soul has left that body and I'm not going home. I'm dead. But I've known that for some time now; I've already grown numb to the idea. But that doesn't stop tears from streaming down my face.

My body is empty, but I'm still here. How that is possible I have no idea. But I have two hands, two feet, two ears, and everything in-between. I can wiggle my toes, my fingers—I've got all ten of each, glowing in the the fog—but I'm still dead. I still can't go home.

I turn and run as Daria puts the crown back on my head. I can't watch this. I can feel my heart breaking with every breath I take as I sprint, sprint, sprint. Because what else can a dead girl do besides run from the truth?

I don't know where I'm going until I'm already there. The stage has crumbled and navigating across the cracked wood should be difficult, but apparently you gain agility when you're dead. The tears are still streaming down my face in waves, but my hands do not shake as I pull the harp from the wreckage. The strings glow silver and gold even in the low light. It's as beautiful and as elegant as it was a week ago.

But even with the wreckage cleared away the strings remain silent. I wait patiently for a melody to burst free, for the strings to strum themselves as they had during the Bloodbath, but nothing happens. No, no, no. I know life isn't fair, but was death not fair either? The one thing I need—the only thing I could ever want anymore—I can't have. A stuttering breath escapes me as I collapse to the ground.

"Just one last song. That's all I ask."

But no one is listening. No one cares, not about a dead girl from six. No one even cared about the living girl from six. It was always just me. Me, the girl who had to go home. Me, the girl who needed revenge. Me, the girl who selfishly took what she needed to keep herself sane. Me, the girl who needed a friend but made enemies instead. Me, the girl who needed nothing more than her family and music but could protect neither. Me, me, me.

I can't get what I want; I have to take it.

I pull a few pieces of splintered wood together, creating a makeshift chair for myself. If the Gamemakers won't turn the harp back on, then I will. I haven't played in what seems like years, but my fingers know exactly what to do all the same. One pluck and I'm gone, the melody dancing around me and through me, replacing my tears with a smile.

I play for everyone watching at home. My sisters, my Moms, Rio, District 6. I play for the people I lost, for Paige, Odile, Hannah, Leo, Saxton, Taurus, Neptune. I play for Rodrick. I play for Daria. I play for everyone left to wander this arena. And I play for me. Because it's the last thing anyone will ever hear of me.

Because this is my story, my song; this is the end.

Boom.

¹Clash of the Azns, 59th Hunger Games, Aesop Bloom [Lalia]
²Heartlines, 59th Hunger Games, Aesop Bloom [Lalia]
³Heartlines, 59th Hunger Games, Sundra Wie [shrimp]
⁴They Cried to Boreas, 59th Hunger Games, Aesop Bloom [Lalia]
⁵They Cried to Boreas, 59th Hunger Games, Aesop Bloom [Lalia]
⁶Into The Light, 62nd Hunger Games, Naveen Casovnik [lol me]
⁷Into The Light, 62nd Hunger Games, Theseus Rhodium [Semper]
⁸Offer to Thee, 63rd Hunger Games, Gypsy Keeni [Lulu]
⁹I Know It Burns You, 63rd Hunger Games, Pyrian Keeni [Python]
¹⁰It's the Price You Pay, 63rd Hunger Games, River Destin [South]
¹¹It's the Price You Pay, 63rd Hunger Games, River Destin [South]
¹²It's the Price You Pay, 63rd Hunger Games, Cricket/Halcyon Antoinette [Lalia]
¹³It's the Price You Pay, 63rd Hunger Games, Gypsy Keeni [Lulu]
¹⁴It's the Price You Pay, 63rd Hunger Games, Pyrian Keeni [Python]
¹⁵one last day of rage, 71st Hunger Games, Saxton Hale [Grim]
¹⁶perihelion. {sunrise iv}, 71st Hunger Games, Hannah O'Leary [Briar]
¹⁷my time is up, 66th Hunger Games, Laila Sycamore [Python]
¹⁸my time is up, 66th Hunger Games, Willis Keeni [Rook]
¹⁹my time is up, 66th Hunger Games, Laila Sycamore [Python]
²⁰death in the afternoon, 66th Hunger Games, Willis Keeni [Rook]
²¹death in the afternoon, 66th Hunger Games, Willis Keeni [Rook]
²²the darkness that you felt, 68th Hunger Games, Patricia Valfierno [Rook]
²³the darkness that you felt, 68th Hunger Games, Galaxy Rose-Clements [Shrimp]
²⁴little talks, 69th Hunger Games, Marchello Donner [Kire]
²⁵little talks, 69th Hunger Games, Margaret Dubois [Mylee]
²⁶empire state of mind, 69th Hunger Games, Ellexias Verisity [Python]
²⁷empire state of mind, 69th Hunger Games, Margaret Dubois [Mylee]
²⁸empire state of mind, 69th Hunger Games, Ellexias Verisity [Python]
²⁹t's uncrossed and i's undotted, 70th Hunger Games, Kiena Ward [Stare]
³⁰t's uncrossed and i's undotted, 70th Hunger Games, Wyatt O'Connor [Mylee]
³¹A Battle Against Time, 70th Hunger Games, Wyatt O'Connor [Mylee]
³²A Battle Against Time, 70th Hunger Games, Wyatt O'Connor [Mylee]

So I know these are super late, but they are so, so, soooo necessary! So y'all have to deal with this because my little ole heart can't go on with giving out these thank yous<33

First, gm bourgeois decadence [aya] & garnet beauford d8 [earthling] - Now, I've had the both of you as GM's before so I already knew this was going to be fantastic, but wHO KNEW MUSHING THE TWO OF YOU TOGETHER TO CREATE KAYAK COULD MAKE IT EVEN MORE WONDERFUL!?!?!?! Not only were you both so patient with me and my hella noob questions, but you created such a BOMB games--- ugh, I've had weeks now to think about how to put it into words and I still just cannot. The arena, all the super cool fun aesthetic things (tapestries, tartans, a harp that plays itself, YAS), the AIBELLS<33 (or just the mutts in general really), the RE's and setting them off, and wow every one of mandates even?---PERFECTION. Dom, Glamour, and Capri posts give me life, thank you for writing them whilst also taking care of shit BLESS YOU. Engine-ing. Every bit of it. Thank you for that xD Thank you for such a fantastic Games experience. I could not have wished for anything better<33

∂αмєη , goat , pup - bless all of you for allying with me<33 It ended wayyy too early ;-; but it was great plotting things with y'all and writing with y'all and just chatting in general. You are great people and I adored having the opportunity to get to know and write with all of you. So thank you for all the fabulousness<33

grim. - I don't even know where to start with you. You have no idea how much I have come to adore you. Saxton was perfect, everything you wrote was perfect, and I am just so glad I got to be a part of it. Hackhart was SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL ~~at least your half of it~~ and I am so blessed to have gotten to ally with you. I wish it could've lasted just a little bit longer, even if my feels wouldn't have been able to hold up under the pressure. Thank you so much for just simply existing<33

Muffinface & Cameo {RIP Charlie} - I know you both were at the end of my little Games run this time around, but I have to thank you for taking me in and helping me after, well, Jeq died lbr. It was great to get to write with the both of you, plot with y'all, chat and things. You are both awesome! Bless you both for sparing my sorry ass, half-dead trib through a couple of days. Writing her more---and writing her more with y'all--- was so much fun. So thank you<33

cameron & lance - Why aren't you billed with the rest of the Bagpipes? I fought the other half more ;-; THUS Y'ALL ARE SEPARATE BUT YOU STILL GET THANK YOU's! Cam, thank you for beating Jeq up with a severed limb. Totes something that everyone needs to do, glad it is crossed off my list. Lance, bless you. Your puns kept me sane through all our stabbing and things. Thank you both for wonderful threads and laughter and tears and just general awesomeness.

MATTIO - Alright, this is more of sincere apology and a thank you all wrapped into one. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. Rowdy was so fucking fantastic and my heart twists into knots every time I think about the way it turned out. However, I have to thank you, too. Rowdy vs Jack--- omg please, this was so great to write. I've never had a blood feud like that in Games before and it was so much FUN YOU MADE IT FUN!! I'm sorry it turned out the way it did, but I am also thankful if that makes sense? Writing opposite you was fun, fantastic, and I'm grateful to have gotten the opputunity. Thank you<33

ali - Thank you for being the one to kill Jeq twice it was fabulous~ Lol kidding that's not all, but I mean, that was a beautiful summary I'd say? I'd like to start by saying thank you for leaving my precious baby alone after her resurrection. You have no idea what that meant to me. To be able to write Jeq for another 2 days was so great annnnd it's really all thanks to you<33 Secondly, I have to thank you for SUCH A WONDERFUL DEATH THREAD!! That was so totally how it was meant to be after having to fight each other 6 of 7 Games days xD And finally, thank you for Daria^^ She was such a lovely character and I loved reading your posts. I owe you so much thanks that I am certain I will never stop owing you. I'll really try though. Thank you<33

Avalon / gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan - Hi, remember that one Games day you gave me the ~~sexual c;~~ healing? Yeah, THANK YOU! Also avalon my love, thanks for all the support and like, asking for an Eckhart? You're my the first so thank you for that. Made my heart melt to mush when you asked<33 Thank you. Also dars you're cool too I guess idk. c; Dustyn was bae btw okay? Okay. Thank you both for writing him. Giving me life and feels overload on a regular basis, it was great<33

flyss & * - I only got to write with the two of you for one Games day, but I have to thank you for that wonderful death!thread and letting me be a part of it. It was a lovely thread with tons of feels and just thank you^^

я𝑜𝓈𝑒 - Look at you, getting your very own section c; Alright so firstly, Hannah was such a wonDERFUL CHARACTER GDI! UGH I swear my feels were just stabbed after every sentence of your posts. Such beautiful PAIN. Secondly, I am so thankful you let me be a part of her death!thread. You didn't have to do that, Jeq was not her ally, but you did and omg I was blessed with some of the most heart wrenching writing I have ever read. Also thank you for kindly sharing OTM's with me on the regular. Ugh Hannah was like, the fucking beginning of Jeq, you feel? So thank you for that and everything else that you do<33

lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah , gamemaker ☢️ ivan korsch , ines izar d11a 🖤 cait , rook , ∂αмєη - THANK YOU ALL FOR GIVING ME MONIES TO USE FOR FUN THINGS!! You should all know, I thoroughly enjoy spending my sponsorship money one useless things, such as the following items: a violin & speaker, a tapestry, a bar of soap, a crown, etc. But you also funded me for a medkit, antivenom, flint, and a tea kettle so bless all of you. Thank you for giving me site monies to use for saving my trib while also playing a violin and stuff yep, yep^^

SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY FELLOW TRIBS!! I'd love to write long, muddled paragraphs professing my love for you, but alas, I really need to keep this at least reasonable length. ;-; Just know I love all of you and your tributes mhmm<33

ALSO SHOUT OUT TO EVERYONE WHO SUPPORTED MY BBY<333 and held me while I collapsed from feels. Like bless you because I had fun writing her so I'm glad you enjoyed reading^^

VERY SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO YOU PEOPLE:
Python L△LIA Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] heather - d2 [mylee] cameron я𝑜𝓈𝑒 sbeeg Avalon ✨ garnet beauford d8 [earthling] cass ali MATTIO Kire charade shrimp gm bourgeois decadence [aya] semper Lulu @southspinner2011 grim. rook Stare - I pray so hard I got all of you but no promises, apologies if I missed someone GAH! Anyway, if you're tagged here, it's because I literally quoted or specifically referenced one of your old tribs at least once during this Games. For some *cough cough* Python and Lalia jfc never stop being awesome I may have quoted you more than once/more than one of your tribs, so bless you<33 But I have to thank all of you. My favorite part about writing Jeq was re-reading old Games threads and simply falling in love all over again with your characters. To have my muse come from your writing, your tributes, and your site history---I am so lucky to be surrounded by people like you who pour your hearts into your writing. Thank you for being here, thank you for sharing your writing and your creativity, and thank you for being so damn fabulous.

Alright so maybe this last section should really be a s/o to everyone. It's official, this is now a love letter to the entire site. Love you all. Keep doing you. XOXO

Last Edit: Dec 8, 2015 0:39:17 GMT -5 by arx

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."