tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 21, 2018 23:01:47 GMT -5

Quote

Post by admin dars on Aug 21, 2018 23:01:47 GMT -5

{ we don't know how to pray
we don't know what to say

"We'll head that way come daylight—"

Mackenzie pointed to a distant clearing, a crack in the shell of the beach. The fissure seemed big enough to be worthy of inspection, but the day's dying light made it obvious enough that it was better explored some other day. Or, maybe it would've been wise to keep going until he couldn't walk anymore, Faline's hand in his, Stitch keeping a cautious eye on them until he couldn't see. To be honest, Mackenzie didn't know what the fuck he was doing. But, there had to be a line to his hypocrisy, a point he did not cross.

That was what prevented him from becoming no better than the father who'd created him, wasn't it? Remaining a leader despite his constant failings as one, letting those who needed him most down and then erasing them from the realm of existence as far as he was concerned?

The worst of the fog was that he had to feel Wynter's death twice. He had to re-remember that she was dead, had to re-remember how mangled her remains had looked as the hovercraft lifted her into the sky.

He had to re-realize that she needed him, and she was dead because of him.

There were parts of his memory that were still white noise; he had a sneaking suspicion that the Capitol had overdosed him on whatever toxins they'd pumped into the arena to achieve the amnesia, because he felt hungover and itchy, and he was sweaty despite the mild temperature and the cool breeze. He still had no idea what the phrase carved into his hand meant, nor was he sure he wanted to. It seemed like a goodbye, didn't it? Thank you, friend. His memory of Wynter disappearing was spotty and the buzzing was so loud when he tried to remember that his head began to ache; was it possible that was what she said to him before her cannon fired?

It was no secret that he was falling apart at the seams; the frayed edges of his mind were cat's string for the capitol to toy with at their pleasure. He'd become a puppet for them, danced when they told him to and kept quiet when they were speaking.

Again, Mackenzie worried about the shocking resemblance to his father. To be fair, he hadn't actually ever met the guy, but it seemed like a pretty easy storyline: man meets girl, man gets girl pregnant, man leaves girl, girl becomes single mother. But Mackenzie hadn't ever allowed himself to think about the possibility of winning long enough to realize that it would just mean a lifetime of sharing that stage with him.

That stage was where Mackenzie Pryce had decided he hated his father, and now his only options were death, or standing next to him. Perhaps his hypocrisy knew no bounds, after all.

Mackenzie looked down at his boots, as bruised as the feet beneath them surely were, then at the gaping gash in his calf where he'd tripped over a sword.

"We'll sleep for now, though."

——————————————————

It came as suddenly as things in the arena usually did: thunder, lightning, rain pelting down on him hard enough to sting. The Gamemakers certainly had their ways of getting what they wanted, didn't they? All at once, the tide pulled in on itself, retreating as if repelled by their mere tribute presence.

Mackenzie reacted as suddenly as he usually did: shoving all his things into his bag, pulling out his spear and finding Faline in the dark.

"We have to go!"

His eyes found Stitch; Faline claimed he wasn't an intruder. She claimed they'd laid down their arms against one another, but he didn't remember it. That didn't make sense. Stitch was still the boy who'd so easily called for Faline's blood on the first day in the arena in his mind and nothing would change that—

He could see the fear in Stitch's eyes, and in that moment there was hesitation. He did not have a Faline; just two enemies who'd taken pity on him. Mackenzie opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

I can't protect them all.

He sprinted for the treeline, wasting no time hauling himself up into the branches as the shoreline surged back toward them.

No! No no no—

He was running out of time, and he couldn't take failure again.

"Take my hand!" His voice was desperate in a way that he hated himself for. He so clearly needed her to live, despite his obvious need to survive as well, and it had gotten to a point now where there was nothing he could do to stop himself. He reached down for her and the waves rushed forward, feet away as their hands grew closer and closer.

He felt the slightest contact with her before she disappeared, and he screamed: loud, pathetic, drool running down his chin and mixing with the rain. The thunder was not merciful, cackling at him in the sky and he was not even provided with certainty.

Was she dead, too?

If he'd just pushed her up first, or if he had just trusted Stitch like Faline seemed to— if and if and if. None of it could fix this; none of it could fix him.

The ocean continued its new course, a lethal current twisting through the hills and ripping entire trees free of their rooting. He was lucky, if he could even call it that anymore, that he hadn't fallen in.

He just sat there and he sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, until the water had returned to its rightful place and the rain had subsided, and then there was only silence.

——————————————————

He was a haze of a person, looming and slow as he crept to the fissure he'd seen the night before. He was convinced it was important now; no way was it incidental if it had somehow survived the chaos of the night.

He was empty, throat ragged and sore, teeth on edge. He couldn't stop the shaking of his fingers, but he was numb to a point of insanity. There was a voice telling him he should have burned with rage, ruby-eyed fury and the sun caught between his teeth. But he couldn't find it in himself to hate, not anymore. He'd hated long enough.

Maybe he could have wept, cried entire rivers, sapphire crocodile tears piling up at his feet, but he didn't think he could manage to build a single tear in those bloodshot, tired eyes of his.

He was just gray, slate and still and quiet. And lonesome. God, he was so, so lonesome.

He reached the object of his affection and collapsed at its edge. Nothing more than a river, fresh water according to the brown hue and the smell. He made it a point to reach into his bag and pull out his canteen, dip his canteen into the river and fill it with water. Every action seemed so dragged out and demanded so much effort, and he was so tired—

Bella. He saw her by chance, a flash of her raven hair like a smear of dark paint against the blue ocean behind her. He stood, made himself known to her like she had to him what felt like centuries ago.

"Bella."

He collapsed into her, sobbing without crying, squalling but without sound. He was the remnants of the man he once was; he felt ashamed of himself for his weakness.

The other girl who appeared, just as dazed and confused, did nothing wrong. She did nothing to harm him; she hadn't allowed Ike to die, or Wynter, or Faline. That was all him. But as he clutched to Bella's shirt and made eye contact with the girl from Five, he realized that she might have been the only thing he had left.

"You can't have her."

He was surprised by the conviction in his voice, by the lack of fear. Maybe he really was numb, but he would do anything to feel again.

song: 'til the end

[mackenzie attacks dove; spear]
wA27rZkospear
[3165 -- Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage]

spear

Last Edit: Aug 21, 2018 23:05:58 GMT -5 by admin dars

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 22, 2018 22:15:43 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Arrows on Aug 22, 2018 22:15:43 GMT -5

Wrapped up, so consumed by, all this hurt,
If you ask me, don't know where to start,
Anger, Love, Confusion, Roads that go nowhere
I know there's somewhere better
'Cause you take me there

Chaos churns within the terrifying tides of the tainted sea. Canons crack as gun fire above the devastation. A boy and girl joined in death depart the land of the living. A familiar scene now shines over the island. Broken bodies and stunned survivors. Another day drawing close to conclusion with more faces soon to fill the sky. A feast now fallen into silence with the fall of two tributes and one man-made monster. And still, the wicked world keeps on turning.

Across the stained stone Ollie and Zeke join together racing towards my side. Hands both huge and small support my slipping structure. Nearby a table allows me to relish in the relief of sitting. As the sun slips further towards its death into darkness, our faces are filled with the prizes paid for in blood. Somehow despite the decaying presence of two dead children, the food tastes just as sweet as it had aboard a silver speeding train. However, the guilt that comes with every bite eventually turns the taste bitter. Soon I can't even look towards the bountiful buffet of endless options without a surge of nausea.

Our attendance at the table is short. By the time the moon emerges from the grave of the sun, we have found seclusion in a small cove by the island's shore. The adrenaline of the battle has far since faded leaving me grimacing from pain. As fingers flicker around my wounds of war, black begins to filter into my eyes' focus. The breaths berating my chest shorten into stutters. Subtle sobs slightly sound from behind my clenched jaw. The last thing I remember is the tip of Zeke's needle falling into the flesh of my half-leg. Then everything fades into quiet.

My eyes open, what I can assume, is at least an hour or two later. Sweat sticks heavy to my skin and my vision is slow to find its focus. A small shadow settles a kiss onto my forehead before soon shifting out of sight. I try to move after her but fall back to the sandy floor in a gasp of pain. Her steps slip further away until soon the only sound left is that of the wilting waves across the surface of the sea. It's nearly an hour later before I'm able to shakily stand with the support of a spear.

Still slouched against the smooth stone of the cove, Zeke stays lost within the mists of his dreams. I scan the shoreline for any sight of her little blonde braid, my eyes are met with only the shadows of night. I feel my teeth begin to circle around one another in worry, but I know I have no hope in finding her like this. There's no way I can protect her anymore. My hands grab my bag from the floor slowly enough to not send me sprawling across the ground from a sudden shift in balance. My attention turns back to Zeke only just now shuffling slightly out of sleep.

"When she gets back you take care of her, and yourself."

He seems still groggy which is best, it makes it easier. I begin to hobble with my make-shift cane when I look back at the sleepy boy from District Six one last time.

"And don't let her follow me."

My voice is barely above a whisper, but the sound of my hurting heart cracking is louder than even the waves.

Swimming across the short stretch of water is easier than bearing the weight of walking. On the new stretch of shore I take a second to sit in the moving water. My eyes angle towards the island now silhouetted by the stars. Streams of water slide down my spine from my soaked hair, yet all I feel are the few tears trickling down my cheeks. Already once I have left behind one family, and now I've left behind another. For the first time since the name Dove Elsu was called forth from the faces of Five, I feel entirely alone.

I wait for the light of the sun's revival to begin travelling again, but it never comes. Instead the seas swell and the skies grow heavy with clouds darker than the night. The anger of a failed feast now physically manifests over the arena. Among the first thunderous eruptions I make my way downstream of a small fresh water river. Every step I hop I nearly stumble into the brown body of the creek. I am even weaker than I was when I entered. I truly am now a Dove with a broken wing.

If it were any other day maybe I would have heard their voices, their steps. Instead I am surprised when I come across the girl who stole my leg and a boy I'm unfamiliar with. I want to hate her, hate him. I want to have the will to fight for my siblings, but I don't. So far my hands have stayed clean of the ultimate act of taking a life. I don't want to kill to live, I'd rather die with a mind at peace.

My javelins fall into the river released by my hands. I have no little sister to shelter or protect any longer. Instead I can finally free myself of the pain and the sorrow. But I won't let myself die with a heart of hate. I want to die with humans by my side, not monsters.

"I don't want her. Or you."

His spear slices my skin. I push away any urge of anger.

"My name is Dove. Can I ask what your names are?"

I pray they can hear my voice above any hurt and hate they have in their own hurting hearts.

"I don't want to die killed by unknown tributes or surrounded by strangers. I want to go knowing the faces and stories of the last people that I'll see."

I beg that my family understands.

"Please."

Came to you with a broken faith,
Caught before I hit the ground,
Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now
Will you hold me now? Will you take me home?

Lyrics from Take me Home by Jess Glynne

Table Inspired by Zoe

Dove does not attack

Graphic by the Breathtakingly Talented Stare

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 23, 2018 1:32:06 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ᴥ on Aug 23, 2018 1:32:06 GMT -5

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

Sanity. It came crashing down upon me with the memory of Lavina's canon drawn and quartered by my own hand and I wake with knees in the dirt and blood upon my palms. We'd butchered the girl. Toxic secrets shared between me and my boys and all of a sudden I find my feet upon unfamiliar ground. I don't now where I am. There are not hands to keep mine company, thriving upon the codependency that came with survival - preying upon their need to keep my weakness buried beneath the bloodstained battlefield but now

I hear echoes.

Screams piercing the back of my skull and I can feel the madness that I had been swallowing like poison in the back of my throat. Keeping from enveloping me like a tidal wave and the clock is ticking, closer and closer the end is approaching and I cannot help but wonder if it's already here. Perhaps I should chose my ending, keep Andy and Akira from seeing the monster sewn within the lining of my sheep's skin.

Is it selfish to want to die a hero? They think of me as strong, as something more than a scared little girl with shadows screaming behind her eyes and if they knew just how close I am to crumbling - what I became yesterday, a mess of mania and panic completely consumed by my own emotion - would they think of me as dangerous? As lesser?

Born and bred in poison, I know the mixture that could end me quickly. Staggered steps, clutching broken wounds and I have no direction, no semblance of fight left within rasping lungs. Alone. I am alone. And my guard of grayscale has turned the world pale yellow. It is so much easier than letting the light burn my eyes and handfuls of herbs find their home within my pockets.

Easy way out. I'd die a hero.

For a girl so apathetic, I've become quite fond of them, huh?

I wouldn't mind dying.

"Bella." I remember that voice. Electricity up my spine and his touch was like a gunshot to my temple. Mackenzie Pryce, district seven. Sat upon the rooftop and bathed in rosy light. He was as tattered and torn as I, with sorrow in his voice and I cannot help but envelope him in an embrace that I hadn't the slightest clue I needed so badly. Bloodstained shirt clutched within hands that suddenly seemed so frail and I laugh in spite of myself, face pressed into his shoulder.

I didn't know I'd missed him. "Mackenzie."

"You've become a ghost." Tearing away at us. Strand by strand we have forgotten who we are and Mackenzie is as Mackenzie as I am Bella. "But then again, so have I."

"You can't have her." Weakness once again had turned me blind, facing another broken thing. One so easy to turn into a monster because I do not remember how she had looked before we all became them.

We were all human once. I try to forget.

But this monster is tired. With a voice as soft as tattered silk and I'm trying so fucking hard to forget. She asks our names, I tell her.

"Belladonna Ruze."

It's the least I can do.

[attacks dove elsu -- sword]
TcK7uuS_sword
[Shallow Cut on Forehead -- 4.5 damage]

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

sword

Last Edit: Aug 23, 2018 1:32:48 GMT -5 by ᴥ

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 23, 2018 15:53:23 GMT -5

Quote

Post by admin dars on Aug 23, 2018 15:53:23 GMT -5

{ we don't know how to pray
we don't know what to say

No—

She didn't get to do that. She didn't get to know him, to care, to have somehow managed to preserve her heart through all of the torment and chaos of a most bloody arena. Even as his spear cut through the fabric of her pants and left a bloody line in its wake, she didn't fight. Even as he tried to kill her, damned as he was for it, she offered only her name. And that wasn't fair. He couldn't kill people. Remnants of them, perhaps. Scarred and hateful shells of their once hopeful selves. That was what he had told himself about the girl from Eight— she was no longer just a girl. She had become monstrous.

"You're still just human," he said, mournful as a widow and serious as a storm, "I envy you."

He started to ask her how. How had she kept that innocence? How had she found justification in her actions thus far? He looked at the shiny silver of her weapon, at the few places crusted with what could only have been dried blood. Surely, she must have felt guilt too, like the rest of them?

He wondered, for a brief moment, if this was all a trick. And then he wondered how many others had fallen for it. At least one, he thought, eyes glancing back at the rust-colored drops on her weapon.

"And I pity you."

If this was really her— Dove, the girl from Five, and not some facade, she had no chance of surviving. Perhaps she had been lucky to skate by so far, but the Capitol would grow bored with someone so afraid of conflict, so willing to shake the very hands that were clasped around her throat. Mackenzie knew that all too well, because he often worried the same fate would find him if he didn't figure out some way to stiffen his spine and tighten the grip against his spear. They wanted murderers. They wanted champions. They didn't want people like her— people like him.

"My name is Mackenzie."

He owed her that much; his name meant nothing. It was no longer his own as much as it was property of the Capitol, anyway. His name was theirs the moment they called it out at the reaping. It was still theirs now, and it would be until his dying days. Regardless of if they were numbered to only a few, or as long as several decades.

They could steal his present, and they could rob him of his future. His past, though— that would remain his own no matter what. Max's half smile, his mother's worried eyes: no one possessed the power to keep those things, which he held at the utmost importance, away from him.

"I'm just trying to survive, Dove."

It sounded too much like an apology for him to be comfortable with it, so he held onto his bluff and he swung.

song: 'til the end

[mackenzie attacks dove; spear]
mJIDirkyspear
[3161 -- Shallow Cut on Left Thigh -- 3.5 damage]

spear

Last Edit: Aug 23, 2018 15:54:21 GMT -5 by admin dars

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 24, 2018 2:54:48 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Arrows on Aug 24, 2018 2:54:48 GMT -5

Wrapped up, so consumed by, all this hurt,
If you ask me, don't know where to start,
Anger, Love, Confusion, Roads that go nowhere
I know there's somewhere better
'Cause you take me there

The darkness dwelling in the ripples of the crumbling clouds mirrors the image of an innocent girl lost somewhere beneath my skin. Through bloodshed, eyes once iridescent with illumination have become eroded into dreary spheres of dampened color. Not a single soul still living with the scarred name of survivor is pure. In this realm of persistent pain, you only live by dipping your heart deeper into the endless depths of the sea of sins. Even though I cannot claim the wings of an angel anointed by murder, I can claim the title of accomplice. A girl once starving in the streets now some star to a city of monsters reborn in their contest of killing.

But all stars eventually die in a violent end, and the black of space remains forever.

Heavy, my head tilts towards the angry atmosphere riddled with the blood lust of unhappy humans playing Gods. I long for the speckled stars that the clouds swallowed when they arrived. I wish for the soft strands of her golden hair to still be dancing between my fingers. I want so many things that this reality is unable to deliver. Maybe this really is the only way to escape entirely from an eternal existence of suffering.

Her voice comes with another kiss of steel across my skin. The pain is still present, but I know with time it will dull into an ache. Then once the ache fades, I can finally find shelter in sleep. It's easier to be euphemistic instead of trying to imagine what lies beyond the boundaries of life. Perhaps it's such thinking that formulates the next words from my lips.

"Thank you."

It is the following word of the boy which hangs on the forefront of my mind. Human. The letters, the word, they are incredibly familiar but they feel false. Although red is the color dripping from my skin and swirling in the muddied waters, I am not a human anymore. So my head shakes slightly before my eyes meet his.

"No," I say letting my bag slip off into the water beside my relinquished weapons of war, "This world has lost its humanity, I don't know what any of us are anymore."

I think of Raven, of Kestrel, of my brothers. Were even they human any longer? Forced to scrounge like stray dogs on the streets searching for their next scrap of food. Is this what humans have become? False Gods living in a city built on the sacrificial blood of children and animals simply surviving in the fences of their cruel kennels? If this is, then I am not engineered to exist as one. Perhaps one of these two is instead.

"Then keep surviving Mackenzie," I say continuing on in response to his next sentence, "I don't need pity or envy, I just want to be at peace."

I wonder if my words are stirring storms in my siblings' eyes. I wonder if my desire to die without a life severed by my hands has made my smallest sister wilt into tears. I wonder if my death will even make a mark on a world wasting away into decay, or if I'll just be another face among the fallen. I wonder all this while turning towards the girl I now know as Belladonna with another thought entering my mind.

"I don't hate you for cutting off my leg," I pause forcing out any last ounce of anger I feel within my skeleton, "I don't know if you care whether I do or don't, but I at least don't want to hate anyone when I die."

Came to you with a broken faith,
Caught before I hit the ground,
Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now
Will you hold me now? Will you take me home?

Lyrics from Take me Home by Jess Glynne

Table Inspired by Zoe

Last Edit: Aug 24, 2018 2:58:07 GMT -5 by Arrows

Graphic by the Breathtakingly Talented Stare

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 24, 2018 17:19:28 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ᴥ on Aug 24, 2018 17:19:28 GMT -5

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

Curious creatures turned black and blue and it is all I can do to watch Mackenzie turn into everything I know we have both become. Pity. I can't understand why he seems to hold so much contempt for a girl whose fate has suddenly come to rest within her own palms once again. She is not scrambling, fighting. She is not bitter and desperate - looking for a way out with hands clasped around the thorns of fever dreams. Dove has chosen to die, with satin upon her tongue and a peace that I have not seen since setting foot upon this wretched dirt.

I'll never make it out alive. They won't let me. My grandmother warned me of the terrible creatures hidden away behind Capitol walls, desperate to do terrible things to the terrible mind which she had created. I cannot kill all of my enemies, they lay beyond the confines of this arena and every ounce of me detests the idea of becoming a puppet upon their silver string.

Don't be weak. Again and again I try so hard to forget the words that bounce around the back of my skull. A murderer once more. Lavina. My own kin. It was easy to ignore when the world around me was not dusted in platinum madness but now I stand with shoulders straight- staring at a broken girl who chose her ending with the grit of her teeth and

I'll never be so strong. Like a rat, clinging to my final breaths I look up at Mackenzie with a frown upon my lips. Just trying to survive. Aren't we all? I want so desperate to see the man that sat upon the rooftop, who told me not to fear him as though I could ever feel anything of the sort.

I'm not scared. I wish I was.

Dove, she tells me she does not blame me for taking her leg and I realize that I had forgotten. Wounds inflicted became so insignificant, taking pieces of innocent people so that I may use their bones as a crown to rest upon my temple and it is then that I know the Capitol has won.

I don't know who I am.

Don't be weak.

So instead I nod, facing the girl with a smile as human as I can manage. "Does it matter, anymore?" A genuine question posed to both of the heartbeats screaming in the absence of her own. "Survival? Hatred?"

She struck.

"We die or we win." She laughed at the blood upon her skin. "And we pray that we can someday forget we did."

[attacks dove elsu -- sword]
LTQ4brAysword
[result]

accuracy reroll

[attacks dove elsu -- sword]
sword
[result]

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

sword�sword

Last Edit: Aug 24, 2018 17:21:51 GMT -5 by ᴥ

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 24, 2018 22:54:13 GMT -5

Quote

Post by admin dars on Aug 24, 2018 22:54:13 GMT -5

{ we don't know how to pray
we don't know what to say

Godless times called for godless measures—

It was an easy excuse, and one he'd grown up listening to as Capitol law demanded. Each games, the tributes were divided into two types of people: the damned and the saved. The monsters and vanquishers. The villains and the heroes. Mackenzie hadn't ever thought too much about it; thinking about the games for too long under any light was dangerous business. But as he stood there, labelled the damned, the monster, the villain, and every other evil trope that could possibly be assigned him, he understood the concept for the first time.

It was an easy excuse.

Really, it came down to those who survived and those who did not. If a person was eager to live, if a person had something worth fighting for, they were considered talented in a contest with such high stakes. They were the fighters. And then there were those too afraid, either by moral compass or other origins, to bring about the end of another person. To introduce them to the grim reaper, depart who they were from their mortal body and send them on their way, was unspeakable. Sinful to a man of good faith, cosmic evil to someone spiritual.

There was no feeling pride and no feeling shame, not when lives were on the line. Mackenzie, of course, would never have chosen this life for himself; he would take back every cruel action he had performed a thousand times if he could, but it was only what had been asked of him. He was a soldier in a war draft, given his uniform and a weapon, and pointed to the front lines of a battle march. It's always easiest to see the other side as the bad guy.

Dove was not bad; Mackenzie was a fighter. Belladonna was—

Some people were the soldiers, others were the war.

He wondered how many people would die for her, and he compared them to those who had died in his place. Ike, with her vengeance and her strength; she was the first he couldn't save. He didn't take anything of hers to remember her by; she was home. He would remember her in the tallest trees of District Seven. And Wynter, god help her. Mackenzie had tried so hard, too hard, to value her over himself. He had carried her for hours, collapsed from exhaustion next to her resting body when her survival just meant his own death, and in the end it hadn't mattered. He couldn't save her, either. Faline.

Fuck.

Just a second longer and he would've had her, but he'd failed. It was a recurring theme, he guessed, for those who put their lives in his hands to end up dead. Maybe Mackenzie had murdered more tributes than just Neela.

"We die or we win," Bella said, humorless laugh clawing it's way from her throat, and she was right. We die or we win; no heroes, no villains, no good and evil. Just the dead and the living. It was unfair, but it was unwritten law. It was something a person had to experience to fully comprehend.

She looked at him like he was a ghost; he hated it. He resented himself, but he could no longer deny the truth of his situation. He had killed. He would kill again, and again, and again if he wanted to live.

"I'm not the same person I was," he said, apology thick on his tongue. He turned to Dove, trembling and willing to die with just one simple request:

peace.

He didn't know how to offer that to her, but he would try.

"You're lucky, you know. To die as the same person you were before."

I'd give anything to have that,
he thought.

song: 'til the end

[mackenzie attacks dove; spear]
2RwQrLUJspear
[miss]

[accuracy, day six]
spear
[3067 -- Shallow Cut on Stomach -- 4.0 damage]

spear�spear

Last Edit: Aug 24, 2018 22:56:31 GMT -5 by admin dars

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

Arrows
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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 26, 2018 12:39:03 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Arrows on Aug 26, 2018 12:39:03 GMT -5

Wrapped up, so consumed by, all this hurt,
If you ask me, don't know where to start,
Anger, Love, Confusion, Roads that go nowhere
I know there's somewhere better
'Cause you take me there

Elements of expiration weave themselves into my painful perception of reality. Among the war drums of hungry demons demanding blood, soft linings of silver begin to spread across my vision. Once individuals, both Belladonna and Mackenzie double, then triple, then return to singularity. Atop the bleeding landscape of my scarred skin the subtle kisses of cold come from angels draped in darkness. The song of sleep my Mother once sang even dances amid the rambling of the river tainting red with my fall. I am beginning my final descent, yet I do not embrace fear but welcome the new uncertain opportunity.

I choose not to over indulge my final fragments of existence with thoughts churning constantly about the coming of my death. I look outward towards the two standing before me within the silver shards of my mind. Before today they were faceless phantoms defined only by their actions of survival, actions which render morality inept for most. Before today Belladonna was the girl who with a strong swing of steel began the avalanche of my demise. Before today, Mackenzie was just another boy turned solider in another slaughter of lambs. Before today everything was different, but that was before.

Today they are veiled with the exclusive importance of sending me off of the shores of life and into the misty seas of death.

I am claimed from the concoctions of my mind first by the voice of Belladonna Ruze. Within every sentence she speaks there is the strength of a survivor, of a person capable of carrying the burden of 23 eternal weights. Like her striking slashes of steel, the perfect lightning to thundering skies, her words are sharp and poignant. If the world were different and this celebration of slaughter extinct, I believe I would have been further fascinated by her.

"I think it matters if you let it," I say answering what very well may have been a rhetorical set of questions. "And to me it matters a great deal. I am ready for freedom from the hatred survival here threatens to give me."

The girl with dark hair's next words leave me dying in silence for a moment. In a factual sense of structuring logic, she is in every instance correct, but that conclusion feels incapable of settling in my own mind. I wonder what made her so strong to be able to hold such a terrible and tainted truth. Part of me wishes I could be like her, but a larger part is thankful I'm not. So I let the smaller desire die, it is too late in this life for me to transform.

"You're right though, but I don't want to forget. I want to remember every moment of my life." I stop for a second not letting my voice crack in a splinter of short sadness, "I want to remember everything, from my sisters and brothers to the rare smiles and laughs with my allies. I want every moment without a speck of regret."

The water beginning to well in the corners of my eyes is thankfully stopped just short of falling by Mackenzie. I sense a kindness in him, one which has been muted by the necessity of survival. It gives me an odd wave of warmth. It's almost reassuring dying by someone who I think might truly care, even just slightly.

"I might be, but I don't think who you were is entirely gone. You just grew strong enough to survive." I smile softly, "I grew strong enough to know I don't want to survive like this."

I now look towards the both of them, the last two I'll ever see in this fading lifetime. And suddenly, no longer am I able to hold back the water which comes crawling down my cheeks as a few tear drops. However they aren't filled with waters of sadness, but streams of acceptance and release.

"I'm proud of the life I've lived, especially with how it's ending. And I won't forget a thing."

Came to you with a broken faith,
Caught before I hit the ground,
Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now
Will you hold me now? Will you take me home?

Lyrics from Take me Home by Jess Glynne

Table Inspired by Zoe

Last Edit: Aug 26, 2018 12:40:05 GMT -5 by Arrows

Graphic by the Breathtakingly Talented Stare

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 26, 2018 15:21:07 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ᴥ on Aug 26, 2018 15:21:07 GMT -5

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

Mackenzie was broken, desperately clinging to the fact that we have become something we once were not. Perhaps I pity the both of them, blood upon my blade - running down my hip and old wounds do not hurt so much as they burn. Bright against my flesh, weakness personified. Dove is giving up, and so that is failure by default. Undeniable truth twisting into lies in front of me.

She is at peace, you can see it in the softness of her visage. The way her words glide across the dead air between us, broken apart only by our rough words. Laid to rest beneath the daisy's and I know the truth before it comes spilling off of my lips. "A warrior's burial then." And how I wish that I could sound as visceral as Mackenzie. So full of want, so full of need but I cannot break the surface tension as sure as every breath fills my lungs with saltwater.

"And Mackenzie." I to him, brow cocked in confusion as I lay my eyes upon the man stood upon the rooftop. But broken. But scared. But so desperate to survive that suddenly he felt so foreign against my skin. Trust is something I had placed upon my allies, a trust that I did not believe in. Death would come with them as surely as it would with these broken souls.

I've taken her leg. He's taken his own hope. We've all done things to hurt each other and I wonder if Dove is truly as innocent as she seems. Bathed in white light as two devils take their blades to her porcelain skin.

Shattering.

"I'm happy you have memories of being better." My words break, voice strained as I turn again toward Dove. I was a murderer before I even set foot in this arena.

I had killed before.

How funny it is, to realize that I have become everything I was meant to be. My grandmother would be so proud.

"Because that means perhaps you will find him again."

I never had the chance.

[attacks dove elsu -- sword]
ZWkUvcXrsword
[deep gash on back 8.5]

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

sword

Last Edit: Aug 26, 2018 15:23:01 GMT -5 by ᴥ

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 26, 2018 15:55:00 GMT -5

Quote

Post by admin dars on Aug 26, 2018 15:55:00 GMT -5

{ we don't know how to pray
we don't know what to say

Mackenzie accepted that justification was unneeded, but...

How do you kill someone who is not fighting back? How do you take the most innocent life and lay it down on frigid ground, and snuff it out like it's as worthless to you as the butt of a cigarette?

He wasn't foolish enough to forget that even the smallest cherry of flame was enough to burn an entire forest down, but it was hard to remember when he was staring right into the embers of Dove's eyes.

She was candle light, soft and sweet and gentle in a world where a person could only afford to be as hungry and as unforgiving as a wildfire. He knew she did not want his pity, and he thought he owed her more than just sympathy, but he couldn't help it. She'd said it herself: "I grew strong enough to know I don't want to survive like this."

Just days ago, he would have thought the will to die was considered a weakness. But having the courage and the strength to let go— that took so much more than raising a sword and having the quickest feet. She was—

"You're brave, Dove. You deserve the peace you've asked for."

And he was just afraid. Desperate to live, and he just so happened to have enough conviction in him to try and make it happen. So, he vowed to bury his heart somewhere deeper within himself, to leave it so far down that no one could see it in that moment if they bothered to look.

It had taken so much damage already; protecting it was the smartest option. It had to be.
Right?

"I'm happy you have memories of being better," Bella said. Mackenzie could tell she meant it.

"Because that means perhaps you will find him again."

Not until I'm out of here, he thought, I won't allow him here.

He was surprised at his own survival thus far. Admittedly, it had been by sheer dumb luck and, the generosity of his sponsors, and, perhaps, his stubborn ass simply refusing to die. But when he was reaped, and when he sat on the train next to Ike and Jacinta, when they announced the 8 he received for his Private Training Session, there was never a moment he thought he would last this long. There was never a moment where he considered actually making it to the end. It started as his attempts to accept his death, and his failure to do so. And then he met Faline, and Ike stuck by his side, and Wynter changed. And it became about being a savior; at least I won't die for nothing, he thought.

But they were gone, and it was heartbreaking, but he had no choice except to take the next step.

For now, he was asked to perform a mercy kill.

He could do that.

song: 'til the end

[mackenzie attacks dove; spear]
EmVCOMtYspear
[3117 -- Stabbed in Thigh -- 8.5 damage]

spear

Last Edit: Aug 26, 2018 15:56:30 GMT -5 by admin dars

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

Arrows
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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 26, 2018 21:07:24 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Arrows on Aug 26, 2018 21:07:24 GMT -5

Wrapped up, so consumed by, all this hurt,
If you ask me, don't know where to start,
Anger, Love, Confusion, Roads that go nowhere
I know there's somewhere better
'Cause you take me there

The world wanes into an array of embers. In smokey silence I bare witness to the transformation. Leaves lift from their landings once safely secured to now burning branches. A solemn sky of sleet and ravenous rampage edges into euphoria. Colors curl from the curving crevices and brighten in tune to the barreling blasts of thunder. An arena once defined by creative cruelty alters in the scopes of dulling eyes. Soon I will be welcomed onto the shores of the River Styx, a Dove fallen from the skies.

The water washing around my solitary leg relinquishes to red. The feeling of my heavy heart hollows with numbness now edging through my veins. Gravity shackles weights to the world and slowly I am sinking into the murky mud. My body is coping for the coming casualty welcomed by my surrender. The instincts of Fight or Flight are now malfunctioning upon my commands. I am the Captain of this vessel, and I have set a course for the center of the sun.

Faces form on the high ground of the surrounding forest shrouded in the surreal illusions of my mind. A small sister watching the wings which once lifted her burst into flames. Two brothers watching the one who guided them from the starvation of the streets. And... a Twin watching two heart beats erode into one.

There is a rumor that some twins can feel each others' suffering, each others' pain. As my blood forms a blooming blossom atop the cool water's surface, I wonder what she feels. Does she feel the sense of stripping strength? Does she see the spectacles designed to dilute death? Does she feel an era of unmeant loneliness looming on the back of one blade? For her sake, I hope she feels the nothingness she always has.

A new sentence from the lips of the living slices through the storm of my collapse. An acceptance of my words and of my surrender. It brings the smallest but strongest smile I can control across my sinking face. The night is coming, but I won't leave shore without others beside me.

I nod.

"Please."

Mackenzie speaks next, his words hold compliment in an arena of travesty. Although my tears have ceased and my bed of bones is nearly ready, I feel happiness one last time. A gift from a stranger instead of a phantom with a knife of hatred. I am dying, but I am not dying alone. For this, no amount of words can explain my gratitude.

"Thank you, I hope one day when life quiets you can find the peace too. You deserve it, even if you don't believe you do."

My eyes find the girl with dark hair and the name of Belladonna one last time.

"You both do."

With the fading of my words I turn my face towards the mind mended sky and whisper a soft, goodbye, to a world I hope can one day rediscover its humanity. And with my strength seeping, I fall with the knowledge that I will never fly again in this life.

Came to you with a broken faith,
Caught before I hit the ground,
Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now
Will you hold me now? Will you take me home?

Lyrics from Take me Home by Jess Glynne

Table Inspired by Zoe

Graphic by the Breathtakingly Talented Stare

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 26, 2018 22:20:33 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ᴥ on Aug 26, 2018 22:20:33 GMT -5

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

I can taste death once more. Forgotten as Lavina fell to my blade only days ago. The time has stretched to centuries. Exhaustion pulls at every muscle in my being and the sight of her blood is surprisingly welcome. We owe this to her, peaceful endings without animosity between. I've never been very good at feeling sorry. I was taught to live as I meant, to take and to feel no remorse. As much as a part of me wishes that I could change, there I am - apathy braided into every fiber of my being and

I don't feel bad that I'm killing her. I don't think I ever did.

But I pretend, for her sake. And perhaps that isn't so bad. "Thank you." Gracious bow of my head, speaking words that taste like plastic but somehow they are pulled from a place so visceral that is burns my throat as they are born. "I admire your strength." Because that was all that was left to say.

Sated beasts behind the screen - I wonder if they are bored by this encounter. There is no bloodlust, we are not fighting to the death and instead we kill a girl as an equal. No predator. No prey. Tired children with weary tears, begging for the end because we simply want to go home. One way or another.

I fear the capitol will grow angry when we become humans.

So that is exactly what I intend to become.

"Thank you."

[attacks dove elsu -- sword]
b_C6TAR5sword
[Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage]

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

sword

Last Edit: Aug 26, 2018 22:21:55 GMT -5 by ᴥ

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 27, 2018 8:35:38 GMT -5

Quote

Post by admin dars on Aug 27, 2018 8:35:38 GMT -5

{ we don't know how to pray
we don't know what to say

Mackenzie raised his spear, eyes like fury and heart somewhere hidden. He thought back a few hours, when Faline had so easily grabbed his hand as their group walked on. She was so kind to him, so trusting even after all of this time. He was lucky to have known her.

He thought back another day, to when he was carrying Wynter in his arms. She would've never allowed it if she had the strength. She probably would have demanded to be left to die, but he couldn't. He couldn't do that to her. He was lucky to have known her.

He thought back another night to his last good memory of Ike, resting before the sun came up. That was one of the few times Mackenzie had ever seen her free of the pain that bound her. It was always as if she held the very weight of the world on her shoulders but, even for just that moment in her slumber, she was peaceful. He was lucky to have known her.

And Neela. He hated her, but he respected her too much. She understood something about the games that had cost her own life so that Mackenzie understood it: no right, no wrong. Only the living and the dead. He was lucky to have known her.

And then he looked at Dove, so close to peaceful bliss and yet so far. Such an unachievable request she had made. Peace in times of chaos; he would've liked something like that as well. Spear still raised in the air, he had hesitated all he could managed. He couldn't tell if he was willingly holding his breath or if his lungs just refused to participate, but he knew he had withheld as long as was fair. Keeping her around, bloody and in pain— that was not mercy, was it? That was, perhaps, even worse than killing her.

He closed his eyes, and he exhaled.

"Sleep," he whispered to her.

song: 'til the end

[mackenzie attacks dove; spear]
KErorGkespear
[3143 -- Shallow Cut on Left Forearm -- 3.5 damage]

spear

Last Edit: Aug 27, 2018 8:36:44 GMT -5 by admin dars

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 27, 2018 16:29:40 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ᴥ on Aug 27, 2018 16:29:40 GMT -5

Always told you not to love me
Now look what you made me do
I got poison in my pocket,
told you I was bad news

And that was it. Her canon fired, a girl who once was was no more and I am left looking at a body mangled by my own hand. Staring at the blood as it seeps into the floor and there is something peculiar stirring at the back of my throat. "Ah." I look over at Mickey, teeth sunk into my lip and I can feel inevitability seeping into the silence between us.

"They'll take her soon, hurry." Hands suddenly so gentle against cooling skin. I've never faced death before. Feet hitting pavement even as my grandmother convulsed. Running when Lavina's canon fell, Andy and Akiras shirts clutched within my palm. There was reason to survive, not to linger within the darkness seeping into my lungs with every breath.

The herbs, hastily retrieved from a tattered bag. Placed within the palms positioned over her heart and there is an eerie peace in death. Cradled within the reaper's loving embrace - so absolutely protected by that which has wanted nothing more than to claim us. "Go in peace, Dove Elsu." I murmur, closing the girl's eyes with Mickey's help.

And then I face him, without remorse, after we so cleanly erased the sin which both of us had lovingly shared. And for a split second, I find my fingers kissing the hilt of my blade - and I hope that he cannot see the conflict within.

It'd be smart.

I know it would.

He was the sun and I am the storm and we cannot exist within the presence of the other but-

it was best to leave his end to another.

I can't. I fucking can't.

Stood upon the rooftop with a smile I still remember and the ghost of a man is still a man beneath the blood staining his skin. "Take care, Mackenzie." tone filled with warning, muscles tensed and prepared for familiar skin of sharp metal.

And still I turn my back I run because that is all I have done. Picking battles, living for myself. I will not start a war of sentimentality- it seems a weakness of mine that I did not anticipate.

But my feet do not move.

Smothered within the hands of fate and I cannot move away from battlefield stained with a little bird's blood.

"What?" I manage, voice soft as I turn to regard Mackenzie once more. "I... can't... I can't?" And I should have known that nothing was a simple as a heart full of mercy. Regardless, I had believed.

My demeanor made you wait,
but the consequences stayed
I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was a case

song: 27 hours

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

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tug of war | { mack/bella/dove } day six Aug 27, 2018 17:12:11 GMT -5

Quote

Post by admin dars on Aug 27, 2018 17:12:11 GMT -5

{ we don't know how to pray
we don't know what to say

His spear pulled the last of it out; the last bit of life force. It fell to the sand as she did, without the energy to get back up again. What started as an exhale quickly morphed into a sob; he did that. He ruined that precious creature, and he knew there was no good or evil in a place like this but fuck.

It was for mercy. It was for her. It was what she wanted. She did not want to live like this anymore. He told himself the same truths that had been enough just moments before, but they no longer held the same weight. Of course she wanted to fucking live. Of course he'd killed her for selfish reasons. He could try and say it was out of mercy all he wanted but she was still lying there in the sand, breathless and bleeding out and the spear in his hands had caused it.

"I just—" he started. There weren't any tears; either he'd already cried them all out or he wouldn't let himself have the satisfaction.

"I just want to go home."

That's all he ever wanted. There was no shame in that, right? Just as there was no shame in him dipping a bandage into the creek and wiping off Dove's face. Just as there was no shame in Bella placing flowers in her hands, situated over her heart. Just as there was no shame in Mackenzie walking along the shore of the creek, picking up every seashell he could find, and then circling them around Dove's body.

She could have been sleeping; she was dead though. He was still the reason she was dead and seashells didn't change shit. He walked with Bella until they were far enough away for the hovercraft to come in and take Dove away. The seashell silhouette remained and he hoped that no one ever dared to touch it. He hoped people would see that shape and know that Dove had died on her own terms, and that she had died as the person she had always been. He hoped they looked at it and they remembered her just as much as they did right now.

Once she was gone though, the silence disappeared and increased all at once. Crickets began to chirp; birds continued to sing their songs. Mackenzie stood next to Bella and waited in vain for an eternity to pass. He saw the instinctive grab for her sword; it was the career in her. He wouldn't have blamed her if she had just run him through with it and left him lying in the dirt.

She wanted to live, too, after all.

But, her grip released and he didn't mention it to her. He just watched as she began to walk away, ("Take care, Mackenzie,") and he turned to do the same.

"Take care, Bella."

"What? I... can't..." Bella called. He glanced over at her from where he stood, and it looked as if she'd stood idle in a pit of mud too long. Her feet might as well have sunken beneath the surface as she tried with all her might to take another step. He tried to do the same, but found that his own feet refused to carry him any further.

"I can't?"

It started with the river. Its current stiffened over milliseconds, growing from a light trickle to devastating speeds far too dangerous to cross. And then, like dominoes, the trees around them began to fall. One, two, three, four, five— they toppled over, roots and all, forming a ring around himself and Belladonna. Each crashed with more noise and more aggression than the one before it, until they were completely closed in. It would've been easy enough for him to simply climb over them, but—

"They want more."

He tested his theory, attempting to step closer to Bella and doing it with ease. His eyes stung with the truth and he tried to swallow the knot that had formed in the base of his throat.

"They want us to kill each other, Bella."

song: 'til the end