eyes- sorry, eye- on the prize { lionel v lucky day 8 }
Apr 9, 2024 12:25:09 GMT -5
Post by LAIN π½ 1M | Mattio on Apr 9, 2024 12:25:09 GMT -5
Man, that felt good.
Lucky grinned wide, mimicking Lionel's. The redness across his knuckles revitalized him. The days past drained him, fighting over morals and how high or low someone's district was and maintaining some level of composure when the pillars around him detonated like landmines. Inflicting pain for the hell of it, for the entertainment factor. Relief buffed through his chest, even as Lionel refused to give him the satisfaction of bending to Lucky's self-righteous sarcasm.
"Kindness is so overrated."
So true.
Lionel faltered no more than Lucky had as they exchanged fists. There was a steely bravery that he didn't see back in the lodge. Lucky doubted himself for only a second, questioning if Lionel got stronger or he got weaker over a week.
When the boy recovered, the dramatics came. "Oh, how you wound me Lucky Nachtnebel! How will I ever be able to sleep again knowing that you won't spit on me again⦠I think I will live." Lucky's hands joined together to applaud him out of genuine amusement. Had Lionel considered Shakespearean acting? His flannel's the next piece to go in the show, his old mark dropping onto the ground. Lionel hadn't forgotten about the moment, and neither had he. Lucky could see now how the adrenaline washed over him and how unhinged he became. Monster to the poor, innocent Lionel.
No one confronted him with the hurt he caused before Day Three. Before Gunner pressed his lips against Lucky. In an agonizing kiss, Gun told him seven silent but haunting words: I love you, but you're killing me.
It was in his blood to hurt, and his punishment was the earthquake rumbling at his feet every time he took it a step too far, telling him he was too late to change it.
His mouth opened to speak, but Lionel continued.
"Last time we saw each other we promised that our next meeting would be fun."
The words took to the tip of his tongue and no further.If I could change it, I would.
Lionel's blade readied for the first swing, no more fisticuffs.
"I think its time you were on your knees, I'm in the mood for some begging."
Aftershock. Too late. Aftershock. You'll never be forgiven. Aftershock. Lucky Nachtnebel, the eternally bad guy.
He could beg and beg and beg for forgiveness, but it would never come. Would anyone forgive him?
The sword tore through his jeans. Lucky knelt on his right knee, doing exactly what Lionel asked. The pain tickled in comparison to yesterday's onslaught from Rhys.
"Please," he begged on one knee, feigning more hurt than what he felt. "Can you please stop the foreplay already?" Lucky thought of the look on Mr. Ivan's face (ironic, given the image Lionel burned of the man reading paperback smut) in the pool room and the Training Center when he divulged his plans to the Gamemakers. Impressed, proud, or so he hoped. The Gamemaker's sponsorship note crackled in the pocket of his jeans as Lucky shifted his elbow over his thigh, poised to strike. Mr. Ivan was perhaps the one person left on the planet who he believed would not hate him through all of this. How could he hurt him by doing him proud? Gaining his approval? By winning?
"Skip, skip, skip. Let's get to the good stuff." If Lionel wanted Lucky to be his bad guy, he'd do it. He'd be his undoing, too.
Still on one knee, Lucky swung. Blade against skin and blade against blade, the birds of the arena flocked to, in tune with the suspense.[ lucky attacks lionel ; pike (axe) ]
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[ 11108 -- Shallow Cut on Right Hip -- 3.5 damage ]