i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5.

✨ zozo.
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bloomtodeath

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 24, 2022 21:13:44 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 24, 2022 21:13:44 GMT -5

(can you face it?
can you look?)

"I told you guys!" and it's panic, surely, finally, filling up her entire body with malice. Arms outstretched, purple veins in lantern light, shadows dance off of the cave walls.Tune is staring at her own hands horrified - trembling.

"I told you guys I didn't want to go in here!"

(or are you ashamed
of what you have done?)

A cave mouth is a death sentence.

But Carly and Andrew don't know that. They don't know that what lingers in the belly of the beast is death, the rumbling underneath her feet, the solemn looks of strange men in grey in the doorway of her classroom and teary eyes darting around - who's parents died today?

A cave mouth is a death sentence and Tune holds her breath all the way down, down, down.

But Carly and Andrew stride in without fear, or any care for hers.

A cave mouth is a death sentence and as the dark swallows her whole she seethes, light bouncing as she walks from trembling hands.

But Carly and Andrew,
Carly and Andrew,
Carly and Andrew,
Carly and Andrew,
they don't care at all -

do they?

(does he haunt you?
does he hurt?)

She had wanted to dance, and wanted it to mean something. So she had.

And now Carly and Andrew prance ahead in front of her, laughing, their echoes reaching her steps behind. The joke has passed, Tune doesn't care to know what the crux of it was. Her, probably. Definitely. Tune dancing, stepping on Andrew's toes, Tune scowling. Tune, blushing, Tune, wanting-

- stupid, idiot Andrew, standing next to fierce, radiant Carly -

- bossy, Capitolite darling Carly next to sweet-hearted, careful Andrew -

perfect for each-other, leave Tune in the dust, her stomach gnaws and she regrets yesterday's generosity.

(is it too much to bear
just to let it all out)

"Look what happened, look, look, look look look-" purple trails up her neck, through her cheeks, steals sense from her brain. Her brown eyes turn violet - she sees red.

"Fuck you guys!" Haggard breath, heart-beat fast. "I don't need you anyway!" a snarl at someone's outstretched hand, she is ruined. Poisoned, it is all their fault, she knew this would happen. A cave mouth is a death sentence. Loving them is a death sentence.

"You can fuck off and dance with each-other and do whatever the fuck else, fuck! I have to- I have-"

Tune has to go.

So she scrambles, fleeing her own sabotage, all the while the thud in her ears dragging her down, down, down into the belly of the beast - where is the exit? She must make it, she must, Carly, Andrew, tears, no, she's crying and wiping them away and she drops her lantern, it shatters at her feet, "fuck!"-

Jealousy, green like envy. Purple, everywhere, it consumes her. They hate her. They hate her. They're laughing at her, wrapped up in each-other, they hate her as much as she hates herself. Nasty, rude, terrible Tune. They hate her, she hates them, but she hates her too.

A cave mouth is a death sentence, she moves toward the only light she can see.

(are you there?)

"Guess it is your funeral after all."

A scoff, perhaps a laugh - tainted, it is sour on her purple-veined tongue. The boy from the tavern.

And a girl, not unlike herself.

"I've already killed one career," snarling, these are not her words - just her hidden thoughts, sins buried deep in the darkness.

"So what's another?"

table coding elegant // lyrics alissic

tune attacks alice, sickle
L2f0CxNoaFglaive
8

tune attacks kiptyn, sickle
glaive
8

glaive·glaive

Last Edit: Jul 24, 2022 21:18:22 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.
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aspiring beam of light

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 26, 2022 10:30:20 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on Jul 26, 2022 10:30:20 GMT -5

It's like you're killing everything.

The forest died a little bit more every time that you took a step away from the yeti fight, flowers starting to wilt around you, the leaves tumbling free from their trees. Rotting, rotting, rotting, it was like it was leaking out of you. December stomping ahead, you couldn't bring yourself to talk anymore. Not to Brody, not to December, not to the birds.

It's been starting to feel a little bit like you're an imposter in your own life. You and the boys follow the smell of flowers, but it doesn't smell quite right to you, like there's something dying here, too. The world slips away from you as you walk through the field of flowers, some of them growing so high as to graze your knees when you walk past.

You don't miss the way all their petals fall off the moment you touch one of them. Something nags at your brain, and your pointer finger reaches out over and over and over and over. Petals fall, dandelion fuzz flies free and tumbles through the breeze, and again and again you want that touch. Once upon a time, you might have been someone who could touch a field of flowers and never pluck a one of them, wanting to come back later to see them grow, to see them change, to see them bloom.

Brows furrowed, it takes an hour of killing the meadow slowly before one of the boys finally tells you to sit down, you need some more stitches.

Sleep comes fitfully at first, before you sink.

In your dreams, it's you and the boys at a kitchen counter. Brody is cutting the steak, and December is smiling like you've never seen him smile before. There's light in the window and everything feels so alive, life happening all over the place, light growing inside of each of you. Is it childish of you, that when you wake, you want? No one ever taught you how to want, but here you are doing it anyway.

It's almost ravenous though, and it turns quickly to panic as you feel yourself sink into your own chest, breathing coming out more and more quickly when you realize that you are alone. The darkness of the cave expands all around you, stifling your vision until it feels like your body is the breeze that blows through, the wind itself a wild warning that you're coming.

Delirious with tenderness, you shout at the top of your lungs so loudly that it hurts your chest: "DECEMBER! Brody!" Your voice echoes back at you though, the caves sending your own voice bouncing back towards you and again, you get the sense that all is not well. You flick the switch on your lantern, flames coming to life, and at first you miss the dark, inky tendrils creeping up your arm, voice cracking against the walls.

You, unspectacular creature made to do awful, spectacular things. You, half-screaming, half-quiet girl who had her life torn out from under her, Tune Walker comes at you swinging before you've even had a chance to process that she's there. Barreling out of the darkness like a bullet, she says something that you don't manage to pay attention to as her glaive goes for the throat. You duck, but the blood spills out from you anyway.

"No," you huff out, but it's snuffed before you can ever really say it, the voice of Portia Ballinger in the back of your head sharper than shark's teeth. Jaw grit against itself, you try to step away from her, want nothing to do with either of these tributes. Kiptyn—that's the name of the shadow that you missed. Something ignites in your brain though when Tune slices across your scalp, something awful, something fierce. You toss both your axes as Portia in your head is saying something pretty, (Break her.) Alone, desperate, it's enough, it's enough. Brody whispering in your ear, (Kill her.) December, (She helped kill Linnea).

You're asking for a witness to what you've become for love.

Something toxic in her, "What, your guys friends off kissing without you?"

alice attacks tune
jgIFniRDatthrowing axe
miss axe lost

alice attacks kip
throwing axe
miss

accuracy
1-2
1, tune
2, kip

throwing axe
3.5

throwing axe·throwing axe·1-2·throwing axe

Last Edit: Jul 27, 2022 23:49:21 GMT -5 by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.

what are men to rocks and mountains?

a haunted house.

heather - d2 [mylee]
Retired Staff

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last seen May 30, 2023 18:02:03 GMT -5

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 26, 2022 12:02:17 GMT -5

Quote

Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Jul 26, 2022 12:02:17 GMT -5

K I P T Y N

When my glaive caught one of the kobolds, it was as if the earth opened up beneath us, the swarm of them seemingly swallowed up by the surrounding forest. We stood there unspeaking, the only sound to be heard was that of our heavy, irregular breathing, a rhythm we couldn’t find or control. For once, I got to be the one to look on with pity, my own body scathed only as far as what had been done to me in the past, yet Tex’s arm dripped heavy, a gash torn straight across the flesh of his forearm. We should find a place to make camp, I started, and then, and patch you up.

It felt good to say it, by which I mean to be on the other side of injury looking in. I gathered a couple of the things we dropped under my arms and looked toward the heart of the forest, those millions upon millions of minuscule places the light struggled to touch. Still, the sun persisted.

Maybe that’s giving it too much credit. Maybe it’s not effort but just existence, how what we perceive as effort is just the consequence of natural law. Light travels, it reaches us, and then it’s gone. Where it lands and what thick layer of leaves it cuts through is just accidental, and in the way.

When we say intention, what we’re really admitting is that we need to make meaning to survive.

I knew he wasn’t too hurt, but once we had broken a little further into the cover of the forest and found a relatively flat, stomped out plot of forest floor, I stopped us both with a wave. This spot seems fine to me, I’d said, resisting the urge to question his ability, to say that I didn’t think he would make it much further anyway. It was as if I was out of my body and then some, watching me push him, and then want to push him further just to alleviate the feeling of uselessness that had settled into my body since the bloodbath.

But I didn’t say anything else, just handed him the roll of bandages from his bag, and then a stalk of plants, thread that he would have to fit through the eye of the needle himself. He fell asleep before me--a first--and I watched his chest heave slowly through the last glimpses of light.

*

I didn’t really think I would abandon him. The first spark of the thought was restless, a potential and implausible remedy in light of my lack of ability to fall asleep. Laying on my back, I tried to trace the places where I thought the stars should be, but the paths were jagged and inconsistent, my left arm weak and less precise. I laid the blade of my glaive against it at the same point where my right ends now. Just take it off, I thought, you’ve done it before. But I imagined Tex waking in the night to my inevitable howl of pain, the sight of his only ally with the rest of his good arm lying orphaned in the dirt.

I knew if I was going to do this I had to put distance between us, and so I gathered my things about me quickly, as quietly as I could, and shoved them one by one into my pack. I’m sorry, I whispered through the dark, and I wanted to think the grunt he gave in his sleep was forgiveness.

It’s forgiveness, for now.

Each branch cracking underfoot seemed amplified, and thunderous. When I saw the outline of the cave, a darker shadow against the already dark, I paused and sat my pack down beside me. I thought about taking the glaive back to my body again, but before I could think of the logistics I noticed the bandages on my right, so nearly rotted they had just about disintegrated. When I reached out to remove them, it sounds as if they’ve crumbled, like sand falling through my fingers. I couldn't see the wound in the dark, but I knew that I was in that nasty part of healing where everything is unfamiliar. Even the thought of light falling on the place where my hand used to be made my whole arm tingle, the feeling seeping into my shoulder and straight down into my stomach. Somehow I know I’ll spend the next day walking around feeling like my stomach could drop out of my ass at any second, the contents of my body littered like carrion on the forest floor. The stump itself had stopped oozing, but the texture was rough and unfamiliar, and even though I know it’s still a part of my body, I can’t register it as such. It’s a problem for the light, but not for now.

*

When dawn breaks, I panic. I don’t want to see the damage, and I don’t think I can face the monstrous part of myself I’ve exposed to the light. The mouth of the cave still seems dark, so instinct sends me hurtling in past common sense, and past fear, straight into the voice of the girl who remained planted firmly at the start of this chain of events.

Guess it is your funeral after all.

I can barely make out her shape in the morning light, but it’s enough to make me scoff, and then to say, It always has been. I wave my unbandaged arm toward her, though I doubt she can make out the details, You want to take the rest of my arm off? I’m tired of looking at it.

Before she can respond, another voice wades through the fog, and the question she asks remains to me entirely unfamiliar. I just barely manage to avoid being caught in the crossfire, the rage around me building palpable, especially when Tune snarls, I’ve already killed one career, so what’s another?

I’ve killed mutts and creatures alike, and still I can only see Tex’s spear bursting through the neck of a girl two days before, the sight of my arm lopped off by Tune’s ally, and this girl--an identity built on history and precedence alone, or reputation, maybe.

What drives me forward through the dark toward both of them is rabid fear. I've got nothing to lose; all that's left for me is an exposed wound and a glaive meant for my other hand.

[ table: pogue ]

[ kip attacks alice; glaive ]
gfxyz9A3m7glaive
[ severed right hand at wrist -- 9.0 ]

[ kip attacks tune; glaive ]
glaive
[ severed right hand at wrist -- 9.0 ]

glaive·glaive

Last Edit: Jul 26, 2022 12:05:04 GMT -5 by heather - d2 [mylee]

✨ zozo.
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Pronouns: she/her
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bloomtodeath

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 26, 2022 14:55:28 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 26, 2022 14:55:28 GMT -5

(i like the falling apart
'cause sometimes it's too hard
can't tune out tonight)

Tune knows - as she did that day in the forest - that if it weren't for these salvaged gloves her hand would be on the floor.

Tune knows from the way it cuts through the leather so violently, the way pain hisses die! through her skin.

She remembers the forest and the aftermath, apologies bubbling on her lips like bile. I'm sorry, she had wanted to say to them - pathetic. What had she been sorry for? Killing the beasts? Having enough sense to explore? Being their meat shield - if Tune dies, oh well. Who cared?

Not them. Not them,
not them.

Alice Ballinger's words ignite something hotter than the pain in her wrist - fury, unforgiving.

There will be no apologies down here. Only death.

Tune hisses with a strike, echo of the pain: Die!

(let me taste it - is it sweet?
or will you spit it out
through gritted teeth?)

table coding elegant // lyrics alissic

tune attacks alice, sickle
s9V_jA5jc8glaive
3.5

tune attacks kiptyn, sickle
glaive
3.5

glaive·glaive

Last Edit: Jul 26, 2022 19:58:51 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.
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Pronouns: she/her
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aspiring beam of light

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 28, 2022 0:30:58 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on Jul 28, 2022 0:30:58 GMT -5

There's pain, and it might as well lay you out flat.

Kiptyn swings his blade with the same precision you watched Carly Volkov kill Linnea with, and it does something at the bottom of your stomach that turns it into fire, little flames dancing in your eyes. You're going to lose this hand if you don't get out of this fight and get it into some bandages. It sends waves up your entire arm, can feel the pain in your elbow, in your throat, at the corners of your mouth being tugged into an incomprehensible grin.

(December, hands shaking, not good enough).

(Alice, warm-blooded, white bird in a blizzard, not good enough).

The pain is an ignition, pulls the world apart until reality scatters in your head for a moment, memories bleeding together, catching on each other like a brush fire. A flash, and Brody lays next to you in the grass back home in One. Peter crouching next to you in the forest, pulling a needle through your skin, your blood slick on his hands, (that's not right). December, eyes hard, exhaled like a promise, you only exist when people want you. The ink bleeding out, undoing everything, twisting it until the flood breaks, rowdy water knocking down everything in its path, clearing the way for who this place would force you to become. River rock, girl with ten thousand bruises, Tune snarls at you and Kiptyn, die!

"What, they get tired of you? They gonna come out the shadows and try to kill you, too?"

It radiates off of Tune, off of Kiptyn. The corruption in you would have you as an animal. It would have you eat them alive, turn them into something else. Something worse. Something yours. (Kill them.)

You're older than you remember now, (good enough). Not so shiny, not so new, (good enough).

alice attacks tune
H7RKtPUojNthrowing axe
dg back, 8.5

alice attacks kip
throwing axe
dg stomach, 9

throwing axe·throwing axe

Last Edit: Jul 28, 2022 0:32:31 GMT -5 by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.

what are men to rocks and mountains?

a haunted house.

heather - d2 [mylee]
Retired Staff

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last seen May 30, 2023 18:02:03 GMT -5

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 28, 2022 12:34:10 GMT -5

Quote

Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Jul 28, 2022 12:34:10 GMT -5

K I P T Y N

The aftermath is always worse. It’s the premise of the unexpected, and the unknown.

I had struck out toward the body closest to me first, and then jabbed out further, to the edge of my range of motion. Nothing of the movement--from the inception of the thought to the close, hurried steps back in recoil--felt pointed, just wild strikes in the growing light. But a glove falls off and then another, thudding to the ground like stones. What the fuck, drops out with them, whispered and breathless, and I shut my eyes for a long second and then open them again to see the trickles of blood that stream out of where their wrists should be.

Are your fucking hands in those?

My wild eyes swing from Alice to Tune to Alice again, one glove a piece still attached to each of them.

The glaive is shaking hard in my hand, what grip strength I’ve built up over the last few days depleted in an instant. It falls to the cave floor with a clatter, the sound of metal on eroded rock uneven and cacophonous. When I start to lower myself to reach for it, I see motion, Tune’s body driving hard toward Alice and I, but I’m already crouched on the ground, my balance anything but sorted. When she brings the sickle up to strike, I can feel the hot metal graze my cheek, the flesh just bared out to the new light.

I can’t figure out where she’s landed, or if she’s coming back, but when I get my hand around the glaive I can only hold it limply, and from there, in a shaky and deep squat, I hear Alice’s voice, What, they get tired of you? Eyes down and trained on the ground just in front of me, a smirk still builds on my face. They gonna come out of the shadows and try to kill you, too?

And then there’s the apparition of another girl face to face with me on the cave floor, Tune’s ally, the girl from Nine who took my arm off in the tavern. Alice’s question is met with silence, so from where I’m squatting, I spit out, Yeah, your friend who took my goddamn arm off? She had enough of you?

Just like seeing Tex wounded, it feels good to spit salt, to feel my fingers over someone else's weak spot and dig them in, I can’t say I fucking blame her.

I feel grounded here, but I know that like this I’m a still, easy target. So I turn the glaive around so that I might use the handle as a fulcrum to push myself back to standing and, as I do, I see only the silver glint of a blade at eye level. Arm tensed, I shove up as hard I can.

It doesn’t miss me, and I hear the axe drop close by after making contact, each inch of the blade torn straight through my stomach. I want to curse, but the exhale alone sends more blood gushing out, and I hold my breath out of fear, the anticipation that I could make myself bleed out by means of doing what I must do to keep my body alive.

And just like that the illusion is over. The bandages between my hand and teeth wrapping around Tex’s arm, the crumpled throat of the boy I murdered to keep Robin and I free men--I’m once more myself, by which I mean injured and desperate, searching for someone else to take my fall.

I can see Tune out of the corner of my eye, but I try to focus on Alice, her eyes, and not the drip of my blood from the axe she’s recollected in the time it’s taken to get my balance. What about you? I try to raise the glaive for effect, to point toward her and see her eyes at the edge of the blade, but it wobbles, drops to her waist. You haven’t been going at this alone, so where are they? Who’d you leave behind?

[ table: pogue ]

[ kip attacks alice; glaive ]
X7otzhGKeqglaive
[ shallow cut on stomach -- 4.0 ]

[ kip attacks tune; glaive ]
glaive
[ shallow cut on left calf -- 3.5 ]

glaive·glaive

Last Edit: Jul 28, 2022 12:35:42 GMT -5 by heather - d2 [mylee]

✨ zozo.
Retired Staff

8,205 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
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bloomtodeath

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 28, 2022 15:45:03 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 28, 2022 15:45:03 GMT -5

(just embrace it
let it burst)

This is -

the playground, children laughing, they spit on her. Dirty little Seam girl with the strange face, halfway toward them yet halfway gone.

This is -

finally winning, the fastest girl on Meadow Lane, until an older child at the finish line sticks out their leg and she topples over into the mud. The earth tastes sullen, vile - like dead dandelions and dreams.

This is -

screaming at her parents, how could they have a child in this world? How could they give her this name? How could they let her grandmother die? How could they go down into the mines every single day? How could they? It is their fault, their fault, their fault - never hers. Never Tunes.

This is -

alone in the Justice Building, waiting for the people she cares the most to come and say goodbye. They do not.

This is -

Purple vines chase her, inching closer, closer. Carly and Andrew do not.

This is -

a death sentence. She didn't want to go down here - and now she will die.

"I left them to rot!" and her voice does not sound like her own.

She is not Tune Walker, she is-
awful,
lethal,
furious,
terrible,
alone-

perhaps she is Tune, just as she was.

"and they'll die down here like you will!"

(can't tune out tonight
sometimes it's too hard)

table coding elegant // lyrics alissic

tune attacks alice, sickle
2SQHGbf7qiglaive
4.5

tune attacks kiptyn, sickle
glaive
0

accuracy, tune attacks kiptyn, sickle
glaive
4

glaive·glaive·glaive

Last Edit: Jul 28, 2022 15:46:18 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.
Graphics

2,803 POSTS

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last seen Nov 12, 2024 21:26:44 GMT -5

aspiring beam of light

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 30, 2022 1:48:01 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on Jul 30, 2022 1:48:01 GMT -5

You, girl walking on corpses, girl who thought she could sprout wings, girl turned creature by this place. You, milky-white, usually pretty in your vagueness, your mother thought she loved you well.

It's not enough to love, you suppose. Not when what you really mean by love is a way of inheriting grief.

"Shaky hands and cold hearts," you start, eyes looking almost knowingly at Kiptyn, as if somehow that would clue him in to your friends names. Your head tips to the side, to the other side, back and forth in a way that makes your head spin even more. "Doesn't matter! They're gonna die, die, die, die! Just like your friends, too!" you tweet, sing-song. Gentleness persevering, twisted and not quite right. There's something unsettling about your cheeriness in the face of such violence. You spin, body bent and bleeding, delirious with pain. As if they aren't all going to die, as if they aren't already dying, as if there was ever any knowing exactly how, or exactly when, or exactly how. Wanting tumbles around you in heavy thick sheets, purple curtains to drown out anything else in the entire world. There's something in you that's hungry. Something in you that wants. No one ever taught you how, no one ever taught you how, no one ever taught you how—you gasp, Kiptyn's blade slick across your belly and you're alive for the first time, all at once. A girl wanting, a girl with a body, bleeding out at your feet, but a body all the same. Puppet girl, feet dancing like a rabbit hopping through wildflowers, you gasp when Tune's blade is slick across your sternum to match. She is as feral as you would have a caged animal be.

You remember when you thought that's what love ought to look like. Tune Walker wears her love for her friends all over her; in the slight to her voice, in the downturn of her mouth, in the nails against her palms. In the way she's pretending not to love them, most of all.

After all, what is family if not a red thread of fate connecting all of our pride and all of our guilt?

"They're going to come finish you off," you laugh at them, eyebrows almost causal, as if dying doesn't mean anything to you. And really, right now, it almost feels like it doesn't. Not if you can, for the first time in your life, finally understand what love really looks like. The love that you've been denied. The love that you've been so afraid of. The love that you have been so naive to. You're curious how it might undo a girl. What is it to see annihilation in action.

You want, you want, you want. Your thoughts keep spiraling, and you level your axe towards Kip.

"You should help them," you can't rest. You can't stop. You could crawl back home, defeated, bleeding, beaten, just to spit in your mother's face and show her your hunger. "If you wanted to run, I might let you go!"

alice attacks tune
hHkWmrL8OZthrowing axe
broken jaw, 7

alice attacks kip
throwing axe
miss, 0

throwing axe·throwing axe

Last Edit: Jul 30, 2022 1:48:55 GMT -5 by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.

what are men to rocks and mountains?

a haunted house.

heather - d2 [mylee]
Retired Staff

528 POSTS

last seen May 30, 2023 18:02:03 GMT -5

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 30, 2022 7:01:05 GMT -5

Quote

Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Jul 30, 2022 7:01:05 GMT -5

K I P T Y N

Filler--knee deep in a packing/moving crisis.

[ table: pogue ]

[ kip attacks alice; glaive ]
zsX0zmGMWvglaive
[ shallow cut on stomach -- 4.0 ]

[ kip attacks tune; glaive ]
glaive
[ miss -- 0.0 ]

[ accuracy ]

[ kip attacks tune; glaive ]
glaive
[ shallow cut on left calf -- 3.5 ]

glaive·glaive·glaive

Last Edit: Jul 30, 2022 7:04:05 GMT -5 by heather - d2 [mylee]

✨ zozo.
Retired Staff

8,205 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 12, 2024 1:57:06 GMT -5

bloomtodeath

i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5. Jul 30, 2022 13:57:21 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 30, 2022 13:57:21 GMT -5

(i like the falling apart
'cause sometimes it's too hard
can't tune out tonight)

A canon fires and the world shakes, dust and vines falling. Tune is going to die as she was always destined to: in the deep, dark abyss of a mine.

A flash of purple in her eyes - fear, the vines creep backwards down the cavern walls. They feel it too. Survival instinct, Tune fumbles around in the dark for a wall but finds blade instead, hissing and crying out as the world tries to kill her from the outside in, inside out.

A canon fires -

("I left them to rot!")

Her parents,
her friends-

Please no. Please no no no no no-

("If you wanted to run, I might let you go!")

Tune has to go. She has to, on her own accord. So she swings, and something hits bone, hard, again, hard, a canon fires once more and she finally takes heed of Charlie's words from days ago and runs. An apology on her lips, it fades with the sounds of Alice and Kiptyn - there is her old self again, a glimmer of guilt in all of that rage. Coward, killer, Tune turns from predator to prey and chases after the vines all the way into the dark.

"Carly?!" she calls out, terrified that saying their names will seal their fate.

"Andrew?!"

Echo.

Or another canon.

(let me taste it - is it sweet?
or will you spit it out
through gritted teeth?)

table coding elegant // lyrics alissic

tune attacks alice, sickle
NJVhCO4LQjglaive
9

tune attacks kiptyn, sickle
glaive
9.5

[glaive·glaive

Last Edit: Jul 30, 2022 14:38:47 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

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Panem Post (98th Games ed.)

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i like the crawls in the dark // tune, alice, kiptyn. day 5.

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 24, 2022 21:13:44 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on Jul 26, 2022 10:30:20 GMT -5

Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Jul 26, 2022 12:02:17 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 26, 2022 14:55:28 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on Jul 28, 2022 0:30:58 GMT -5

Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Jul 28, 2022 12:34:10 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 28, 2022 15:45:03 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on Jul 30, 2022 1:48:01 GMT -5

Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on Jul 30, 2022 7:01:05 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jul 30, 2022 13:57:21 GMT -5

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