The Finale

lance
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The Finale Jun 17, 2022 18:20:01 GMT -5

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Post by lance on Jun 17, 2022 18:20:01 GMT -5

Once again, half the remaining tributes fall. Once again, their corresponding drones erupt into flames, by now an expected spectacle instead of a surprise, and crumble into the dirt to rest. Once again, the arena shines in a multitude of colors, before settling on one - a vibrant, reflective yellow.

How ironic. It was not quite district partners being the last ones to remain, not quite friends, but after all the spectacle, all the pomp and flashing lights, all of the variety, to have two tributes who had originated from the same section be standing amongst the final two had been unexpected, to say the least. As one quarter of the arena celebrates their now-guaranteed betting wins and the remainder celebrate the fact that, at long last, this grand spectacle has finally approached its conclusion, there sit but a few who remain curious, wondering how the finale will proceed. Will there be another break? Will the remaining wall sink into the dirt like its perpendicular twin?

The answer catches everyone by surprise. Because there is no announcement, no predictability, no warning whatsoever as the very ground begins to shake. A loud cracking echoes throughout the arena, momentarily sparking fear - was it an earthquake? Was the grand old coliseum collapsing around them? - until it was not the coliseum itself that crumbled into pieces, but the wall.

In various places, the obsidian barrier had collapsed, various cracks and breaks spiderwebbing their way across the formerly pristine structure. Now, there were openings, cave-ins, gaps traversable if the tributes so chose. And why wouldn't they? There was, after all, but a single opponent remaining between them and victory.

For the penultimate time, the announcer's voice boomed across the arena. "Let the Finale of the Seventh Annual Hunger Games officially begin!"

~~

The finale, mechanically, will work the same as the previous two rounds - each tribute has had their damage lowered to 30 to hopefully allow for a slightly longer, more development heavy finale. Aesthetically, the tributes have moved directly from round three to the finale, with no breaks, healing, or cleaning, and must traverse the ruined sections of the wall to reach each other and end this once and for all.

credit to darsypoo uwu

credit to fireflyz!

credit to stare!

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The Finale Jun 19, 2022 8:20:49 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jun 19, 2022 8:20:49 GMT -5

maya gomez.

Drones explode, bursting into flames along with the image of the white haired boy, his blood still on my hands, his body motionless in a pool of his own blood.

Turning I head towards my gate, my spear resting on my shoulder as I wait for the bars to lift, for the gaggle of colourful ladies to clean me up, and to throw some tasty insults at the peacekeeper who was lucky enough to be my escort. Only the gate does not rise, and I press my face against it, peering in to the empty cell. "Oi, fuckers, the kid is dead, aren't you supposed to be making me pretty for my next murder date?" I demand, waiting for someone to appear.

"Hello-"

Suddenly the earth begins to shake, and instantly I jump to attention, my eyes darting around the arena. My first thought was that the son's of bitches had finally decided to unleash the zoo, execution by chimpanzee's ripping my face off. Hell. no. Back to the wall I clutch my spear between me and any approaching danger, eyes scanning my surroundings like a hawk. A loud crashing sound echoes throughout the arena and I wait for the earth beneath my feet to split, or the wall behind me to crumble and a piece of oversized rumble crush me from above.

But after a few more moment the shaking stops and the arena falls silent.

Swallowing tensely I wait for the cries of starved beasts, or the roars of carnivorous lions. But I hear nothing, nothing but the pounding of my heart in my ears.

"Okay, we good," I mumble to myself as I cautiously head towards the obsidian barrier that had cracked and crumbled allowing access to the second half of the arena. Dust fills the air making it difficult to see who awaited me on the other side. We were coming to the end, which meant that only one body stood between me and home. One more body and I would be pardoned, my execution date forgotten and my shackles loosened.

"Helloooo," I call, stepping through a section of the broken wall, I peek my head around the corner, "come out, come out wherever you are."

elegant

Last Edit: Jun 19, 2022 18:05:38 GMT -5 by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah

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marguerite harvard d2a (zori)
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The Finale Jun 20, 2022 0:39:59 GMT -5

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Post by marguerite harvard d2a (zori) on Jun 20, 2022 0:39:59 GMT -5

r u t h

And last night I blacked out in my car
And I woke up in my childhood bed
Wishing I was someone else, feeling sorry for myself
When I remembered someone's kid is dead

Ruth had waited over Celeste’s body, not wanting to forget the sight of the young woman she’d murdered.

Where the boy and girl from four’s deaths had seemed almost merciful, and the eleven an act of self-defense, she could not explain away the blood that now oozed between her fingertips and dripped from the tip of her spear.

Through the din of the crashing drone, she’d turned her attention back toward the people in the stands. A hush had fallen the arena, and more than anything, Ruth wished their cheers could’ve drowned out all the thoughts that crashed in waves through her head.

The fact she’d put her faith in God and somehow had survived; that she’d thrown out all of what she’d been taught to do so; that she was so tired, she didn’t have it in her to weep or rage at where she’d found herself.

When the ground began to shake, Ruth snapped her eyes closed. She’d prayed for the whole of the arena to collapse so that all of them would fall into the ground underneath. They could perish in the sand and dirt, be trapped in the space where she’d spent the night imprisoned.

It would be too just of an end for all of them, she supposed.

For there was no sink hole, no terrifying avalanche of dirt and sand. Only a section of the wall coming apart so that whoever had survived on the other edge of the arena might make their way through.

Ruth kept sight on the passage between the broken bits of concrete and steel.

The young woman from three emerged wrapped in broken armor and blood. Was that how Ruth looked now, too?

As she called out, Ruth tensed.

“I’m right here,” She replied. She didn’t move, didn’t give in to the urge to rush at Maya and finish all of this quickly.

“Hello,” She stepped back and forth in the sand to get into position – whatever position had managed to get her this far, “I’m Ruth. It’s just us now, then.”

She prayed that God could give her the same strength now as at the start. That she could somehow strike just as hard and dodge as quick as before.

But most of all she prayed that when the sun finally went down, she’d find the strength to begin again, here or wherever her soul had been carried.

She readied.

“Who are you?”

elegant

Last Edit: Jun 20, 2022 0:40:31 GMT -5 by marguerite harvard d2a (zori)

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The Finale Jun 20, 2022 19:42:47 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jun 20, 2022 19:42:47 GMT -5

maya gomez.

Through the settling dust I spot the remaining tribute.

The drones that hovers around us informed me it was the girl from eight. Spear soaked in blood and body covered with bleeding lacerations and ruined, flimsy armour, she looked tired, but not broken. Just like those that had come before her, her eyes still held that look of defiance that had my lips tighten in frustration. The same look that made my skin feel too tight. That had the arena feeling too small, that had me feeling a little unhinged.

The same look that had haunted me for three years.

A defiance fuelled by the desperation to not let them see you break.

The girl moves closer, stepping over rumble with tense small movements. I take a moment to take a deep breath, making sure that I exuded a confidence that I didn't feel, because just like with the boy from 10, in order to win my freedom, I would have to get into the girls head.

Pulling my shoulders back I study her with a cold, detached look. All I would need was one good hit. I could aim for her throat, but the target was so small that the chances of missing were at a high risk. I could go for the stomach, but didn't necessarily guarantee death, I would need to hit a valuable organ or artery. I could go for the heart, but if I was being honest, my aim has never been crash hot.

"I’m Ru-"

"Stop," I hiss, readjusting my grip on my spear. Why did they all want to know my name? I sure as hell didn't want to know hers. Introductions, small talk and heart to hearts would only make this who situation worse. it would change the dynamics of a situation that was already shitty. It would force a connection, it would force me to look at her and not just see a body, but see the face behind the body.

Why make it harder than it need be. Wasn't it enough to know that the one who made it home would have to live with what they had done?

I was not a fan of adding salt to the wound.

"I don't care who you are," I pause, letting the words hang heavy in the space between us. "And neither should you."

elegant

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[8.5]

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Last Edit: Jun 20, 2022 19:56:09 GMT -5 by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah

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marguerite harvard d2a (zori)
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The Finale Jun 20, 2022 20:42:57 GMT -5

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Post by marguerite harvard d2a (zori) on Jun 20, 2022 20:42:57 GMT -5

r u t h

And last night I blacked out in my car
And I woke up in my childhood bed
Wishing I was someone else, feeling sorry for myself
When I remembered someone's kid is dead

'I don’t care who you are, and neither should you.’

It’s hard to swallow, both because of the spear that punctured her side and the notion that the last face she’d ever see in her life couldn’t be bothered to learn her name. That was how it went – all the pain and suffering so that she could be forgotten. Another body for the pile.

Ruth staggered back, blood rushing out of the puncture wound below her rib, her breath haggard. Flickers of pain chased up and down her side, and despite how much she wanted to double over, she kept to her feet, with her eyes on the young woman in front of her.

Maybe it was the end of everything, maybe none of it mattered, too.

She could have her ashes scattered across the arena and there would be no celebration, no memory of what she’d sacrificed to be here. Her sister would grow up without her, would marry, have children, take over the laundromat and have the shortest glimpses of Ruth. The elder sister that tied her hair in ribbons and taught her to ride a bike. Her parents would hang up a portrait next to the quarter machine, and her friends would spend the summer at the lake reminiscing how much better it could’ve all bin.

“I don’t matter, but neither do they,” Ruth spoke through the blood dribbling out her lips, “And the other twenty-two, either.”

She held her spear closer to her breast and stared back at the girl from three with all the ferocity she could muster.

Why had she spent so long disbelieving?

Ruth could give twenty-two reasons and then some, now. A whole world who’s answer to life’s great questions was violence, she could not be resolved to believe that there was anything just or merciful about living in panem. Not when she could be pulled from a bowl and forced to murder other young people to survive.

And yet.

Her fate had not yet been written, at least, she still stood. Had lasted to the final pair. For whatever reason, the mousy haired girl from eight had managed to arrive in this exact moment as the girl from three. And Ruth believed it important to know her.

“I don’t believe that.” Ruth coughed. “But maybe that’s what you put your faith in. I respect that. But I’m praying for you, and them,” She said, motioning to the other bodies, then the stands, “Because this is one moment… one of us is going to have a whole lot more to do better. Be better.”

Ruth prayed.

Not to kill the young woman in front of her – she couldn’t ask for that, and knew it wouldn’t be received. But that whatever world came from this moment was the right one.

That whatever grief she had to suffer, her or Ruth, could not last.

That both were stronger than they believed, and that their faith – in God, in themselves – would sustain them.

“Can’t she do it?” Ruth muttered, not about the girl from three, but God, the only one who mattered, then.

Ruth pressed forward, for there was nothing to be done without faith, and stabbed her spear toward Maya’s heart.

“HRRRRRRNNNG!”

[ruth baran attacks maya gomez with her spear]

elegant

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[result:]spear

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The Finale Jun 20, 2022 21:28:58 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jun 20, 2022 21:28:58 GMT -5

maya gomez.

I lung forward, grunting with effort, my spear aimed for the girls stomach. It hits resistance as it buries its head into flesh, a feeling that was becoming all too familiar. I watch as I push it deeper, twisting it upwards in an attempt to reach her heart. My eyes dart from the puncture site to the girls face, hoping that it would be enough to have her crumple to the ground like the boy that had come before her.

It's not.

There is pain scorched onto the girls face, but the pain was more than just physical. My words had wounded just as much as my spear, cutting deep and shredding her from the inside out, internal wounds that would bleed just as heavily as the external. I feel the same frenzied panic that had overwhelmed me when facing Ten, the panic that had my knees shaking and my throat closing, and I do everything in my power to force it down, to not let the girl get into my head, because right now wasn't the time to loose control.

Because right now I had to think of her as nothing but the key that would grant me artificial freedom.

Ripping my spear from her flesh she stumbles back, but she does not fall. Her balance is unsteady, and blood dribble from the corner of her pale lips. The flimsy armour was cracked where my spear had torn through, blood dribbling through the crevices.

Exhausted, I take a moment to catch my breath, chest heaving I watch as blood rains down onto the sand. The same sand that had been the execution site for those that came before us, and most likely many more who come after.

“I don’t matter, but neither do they, and the other twenty-two, either.” As she speaks, her eyes boring into mine with a ferocity that has my hands tightening on the shaft of my spear. The girl coughs, the dribble of blood turning into a more steady flow as she continues, “I don’t believe that.”

I knew that. Of course I knew. I just couldn't allow myself to think like that right now. So I don't.

"I don't need your prayer," I say with a shrug, once again hiding behind a bravado and more lies. "I just need you dead."

The girl lunges, crying out with determination. But her movements are slow, blood loss and exhaustion making it easy to knock her aside.

Sweeping my spear around, I don't give she a chance to recover, attacking almost instantly, "you are the key to my freedom, and I am going home."

elegant

w6IqHFEoKuspear
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Last Edit: Jun 20, 2022 21:29:47 GMT -5 by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah

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The Finale Jun 21, 2022 23:15:09 GMT -5

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Post by marguerite harvard d2a (zori) on Jun 21, 2022 23:15:09 GMT -5

r u t h

And last night I blacked out in my car
And I woke up in my childhood bed
Wishing I was someone else, feeling sorry for myself
When I remembered someone's kid is dead

Her spear went wide, and she thinks –

it’s not

my

time.

Ruth stumbled and let out a choking cry.

She killed four kids.

Who were their parents?

Oh

God

What would happen when she died, when, her blood dribbling out the side of her mouth ran cold and all she had left to show for it was that she’d murdered so many people to get here? Her sister –

oh GOD

– her sister would see what sort of monster she’d been. They’d be watching on the old television set at home and she’d get to see the same sister, the one who had tied her braids and walked with her to school, the one who’d taught her psalms and preached how to be good, she’d taken a spear and plunged it through someone’s stomach.

God, please

They could all see that even after all she’d been taught, she was no better than an animal, no better than all the sinners she’d been warned against. Because she’d had the chance to follow the Word, but she’d been too terrified of death. Couldn’t open up her arms and let it take her, to see if she truly believed in the kingdom come.

Could she believe, still?

God, oh God

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair!!!

She didn’t ask for this. Hadn’t she prayed hard enough? Hadn’t she helped on Sundays, been the good girl to sacrifice, and not broken the rules?

She raised her spear and with all her might, caught the other girl’s against hers.

“You can go home.”

Ruth forgave.

Well –

She wanted to.

Isn’t that what God had taught her? To be the bigger person?

To not lie, cheat, or steal?

“But you won’t ever be free.”

She should’ve disappeared in the dirt for saying it, but she wouldn’t ever be sorry.

Her limbs grew heavy as she stood, body swaying.

All she wanted was to be out under the stars with Evangeline, not ashamed of herself but hopeful.

She took in another breath and prayed.

Not for peace or for her family.

But that whatever came from her final swing would be quick so she wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

God could be at least merciful for that.

[ruth baran attacks maya gomez with her spear]

elegant

ZGuMjGaPHKspear
[result:+8.5]spear

Last Edit: Jun 21, 2022 23:16:04 GMT -5 by marguerite harvard d2a (zori)

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The Finale Jun 22, 2022 0:33:05 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jun 22, 2022 0:33:05 GMT -5

maya gomez.

"Ugh!" I grunt, my spear clashing with the girls as she manages to recover quick enough to meet my attack head on. I had been so sure that I had her. Her back was turned, her momentum thrown. I- I had her. But the flight or fight instinct within her was stronger, her desperation to survive prevailing.

Just give up! I wanted to scream at her, pressing my spear against her's with the weight of my body. I wanted to yell at her to stop drawing it out, but I couldn't. I wouldn't, because I was sure she had the same thoughts racing through her mind with each strike, with each miss, with each beat of her heart. And I couldn't bring myself to be that cruel- apparently I was only so cruel as to murder her.

Grunting I push into her spear once again with the aim to knock her off balance and to send her stumbling into the ground. Still, she refuses, her spear pressed hard against my own, eyes locked with mine.

“You can go home, but you won’t ever be free," the girl grunts as she throws all her weight behind her spear, shoving me off of her. I curse, thrown of balance I try to re-establish my footing, desperate to put my spear between us, but I was too slow.

Pain erupts from my foot, a cry on my lips as I look down to see the girls spear stabbed right through my foot, pinning me to the ground.

"Fuuuck!" I growl, cursing at the searing pain that pulsed through me, intensity growing with each beat of my heart.

Eights hands were still wrapped tightly around her spear, and I watched in what felt like slow motion as she moved to rip it from my flesh, hands re-adjusting so that her grip would allow for the easy transition of aiming for something higher, like my chest.

No.

No.

No no no no

This was not it. I was not done.

This was not over.

Bracing myself, I put all my weight through the impaled foot, instantly again tears through me like a raging fire, realised as a scream as I shift my rear foot into a more stable position. In the next breath I lung at Eight, knocking her off her feet, her hands losing grip of on her spear as she goes stumbling into blood soaked dirt.

Ripping her spear from my foot I toss it behind me before limping over to her. I stand over her for a moment, breathing hard as I fight to catch my breath, as I fight to hold onto my consciousness, darkness lingering at the corner of my vision.

"Enough," the word breaks, leaving my mouth as a gasp, the tip of my spear pressed against her chest, just above her heart. "It's over."

elegant

anCSCNAaeTspear
[~~4.5~~]
[ Operation badass: stabbed in the heart ]

spear

Last Edit: Jun 22, 2022 0:34:30 GMT -5 by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah

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The Finale Jul 4, 2022 20:34:41 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Jul 4, 2022 20:34:41 GMT -5

♛

My spear pierces her heart, the final canon booms, and my shackles loosen.

Panting, I release my grip on the spear, my shaking legs struggling to hold my weight as I make a slow circle, taking in the crowd that erupts with cheers. They chant my name like a prayer, but when I run my gaze over them it is with a look of our hatred and repulse. I spit blood onto the ground and salute the fuckers with my middle fingers raised, before my world starts to turn dark at the edges.

"You are all a bunch of sick fucks," I manage, my eyes skimming over Eights lifeless body, spear protruding from er chest. But despite myself, I get caught up with the atmosphere, my lips pulling back into a wide grin as the realisation that it was really over overwhelms me.

I had done it.

I had won.

My hands were soaked in blood. My body torn and broken. I was a mass murderer. But despite all of that I felt lighter. I felt like there was a weight upon my shoulders that had been lifted. And I almost felt giddy. I had escaped my execution not once, but twice and as soon as I was able to function I would march to the presidents office and demand my pardon. After all I was the latest member of Capitol Royalty, and I was free.

Tears well in my eyes, but I wipe them away before they have the chance to fall, and I watch as Eights face burns, her drones exploding, the air smelling like smoke and blood and sweat. And I push away the panicked feelings that surge through me, the remorse, the guilt everything, locking them tightly into the back of my mind for another day- or perhaps never if I could manage because in this very moment I was free.

And nothing would take away that feeling.

Even if it was fleeting. Just a few days ago I had convinced myself that I would never go home, never see my parents final resting place. Rosa's resting place. Unmarked graves no doubt, but I could fix that, because I was fucking invincible.

"Estoy llegando a casa," I murmur, "I'll see you soon, mama and papa."

Suddenly a peacekeeper has me gripped under the arm, half dragging, half carrying me from the arena, and for the first time in three years I don't fight them.

♛ END OF THE 7TH HUNGER GAMES ♛