the devil is a gentleman // tune v brody, day 7.

It is peaceful for a bit. Quiet and serene, with only the sound of the river lapping against its edge to keep him company. Like a lullaby, it sings him to sleep softly. Sweetly. But his rest is anything but. Instead it is filled with unconfronted pain and ill-advised omens.

Large winged beasts and slit throats. An ominous roar, the blast of a canon, limbs scattered on the ground.

Brody has made it this far without losing his mind, and that's saying something. Slumber tonight, however, threatens to split him at the seams. The unconscious mind shows one what they desire, yes, but it also knows exactly what one fears.

And no matter how many times he says he is not afraid, something deeper, darker, knows better.

•••

With a jolt, he wakes before sunrise. But only just. He watches it with reverence, noting just how many times Alice would have said how beautiful it was. Her voice echoes, rustles through the trees, and fastens itself around his throat like a noose.

He'll never hear it again.

Brody stomps out his campfire in a huff, the toe of his boot digging into the rocks and sand. He gives himself the task of gathering his supplies to distract from the few tears that roll down his cheeks. As long as he doesn't acknowledge them, they didn't happen, right?

Fuck it, as long as the cameras don't see.

He angles away and hunches over his bag, shoving shit deep inside before standing back up as if nothing had happened. Looking ahead, he squints at the edge of the forest, but then his eyes widen as blurry figures come into focus. Tex and Carly. He looks behind him, his gaze landing on a few others. They start to fight, weapons clashing and slicing into flesh in the distance.

So, this is it, he thinks to himself, tired and in need of a plan. And then a twig snaps behind him and an axe sinks itself into his stomach as he turns around to face his ambusher. And he grins beneath his white vraven skull mask at the sight of her.

"I was hoping to see you today," he says, a bit muffled but that's okay. She doesn't need to hear him for this. Brody inhales and wraps his palm around the handle of the axe in his torso, then pulls it free quickly. He waits for the pain but it doesn't come. Blood soaks into his clothes and spills down onto the rocks beneath his feet, but he can't feel anything.

Only rage.
This time all his own.

As soon as she realizes he isn't going down quite that easily, she turns on her heel and runs away. "You can run all you want, but you can't hide!" Brody's grin widens, teeth bared and sword held out.

He's always loved the chase.

His sword makes less than stellar contact, but the sheer force of his presence is enough to send her toward the ground. The water breaks her fall with a splash, but like a buoy, she bounces upright and seems unphased.

She says nothing and that infuriates him.

Does she have no questions? No inquiry as to why he would hunt her down? Surely Tune had seen him with them. With Alice. December's death wasn't her fault, and Brody really didn't care - she had that going for her, at least.  But Alice... she had meant something to him. He wasn't sure what exactly, but he was beyond livid that Tune had taken her away from him before he could ever find out.

"Just make this easy." 

He huffs, reaching out to grab her by the bicep, but she wiggles free with ease moments later. The water was on her side, it would seem. And with a fresh axe brandished, she runs a few feet ahead of him, then turns back. It sails in his direction, followed by a hiss, but he merely steps to the right, closer to shore, and it flies past him.

She says nothing, again.

"Really?"

Brody groans and it reverberates beneath the vraven skull he adorns. He was already tired of his, of all the effort she was eliciting from him by fleeing. By making him chase her. 

Didn't she already know?

Tune was going to die today.

"GET BACK HERE!"

There is nothing he would love more than to just shove her head beneath the waves and hold her there until she stopped moving. Until the last breath she took seized and her lungs filled with water. In fact, he would relish in feeling her give up in those final moments under his weight. 

It would feel like heaven.
Like a sweet release.
Like justice served.

Instead, she flails. She escapes his grasp. And she runs. Farther and farther away, heading up the coast of the river. He isn't sure where she thinks she's going; there aren't many places left in this forsaken place. The Gamemakers have made sure of that. They've flooded areas with purple smoke, laced the water with a purple liquid, and completely sundered the Tavern. 

So, where the fuck does she think she can hide?

Another axe wielded in her hand, she turns for a brief moment. Gotta catch me first! It's almost as if she's teasing him, acting as if this is a game and not her life in his hands. She rears back and aims for his head. It falls short, but makes purchase against his chest this time. 

Like a cornered animal given no other choice but to lash out, he growls and lunges at her.

"That actually fucking hurt. You're gonna pay for that."

“Now why the hell would I make it quick?”

He grabs her by the throat now, watching with a smirk as the last of her axes sink beneath the water and float out into the river. She is weaponless and flailing, like an animal who was just caught in a trap. Eyes wide and heart racing, walls closing in and the instinct to survive laying in wait.

“That would take all the fun out of it,” he breathes heavily, invading her space so his nose is nearly touching hers. 

This is about power now. And control. He wants her to be scared. To feel like there's nothing else she can do. To feel helpless. Like this was it - her last chance. Because it was, but the difference was Brody had no intention of doing anything other than ending her life. Everything else? Just for show.

“And I want this to be fun, don’t you?”

“It’ll take as long as I want it to,” he grumbles, his arm jerking left and right as she bucks and kicks from under him. “There’s nowhere to run anymore, Tune.”

He smiles, an evil and twisted grin. It widens as another canon sounds. Brody looks over his shoulders, half expecting to see a body fall. But there’s no one around them, and no way for them to know who it was.

“I hope it was her,” he tightens his grip on her throat, “and I hope it was painful.”

amfjfkskdk

he just wants to snap her neck at this point so just let him!!!!!

“You’re right,” he offers to her, but he doesn’t loosen his hand on her windpipe. “It changes nothing.” It’s a bittersweet realization - that Tune Walker may be wise beyond her years. But it doesn’t make him want her dead any less. Brody knows it will do nothing. It probably won’t even make him feel better. But he doesn’t care.

wip wip i’m late for dnd scream