the pale moonlight // Barovian Bitches day 1

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charade
Retired Staff

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last seen May 1, 2024 12:08:12 GMT -5

Thinking

the pale moonlight // Barovian Bitches day 1 Oct 19, 2022 13:13:26 GMT -5

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Post by charade on Oct 19, 2022 13:13:26 GMT -5

I started walking after I got my bag filled. The building felt suffocating; I’ve always preferred the open sea but goddamn if I don’t feel the urge to run under the moonlight instead of staying indoors right now.

Huh. Weird. Ain’t no trick of the light, this river is not filled with water. Fuck, it even smells like a bad wound. The grass is all dead as fuck but there’s some small blue flowers here and there.

What kind of flowers grow when they’re being watered by blood? It ends at a waterfall, spilling over the edge of the cliff like a slit throat, and man, it at the bottom it almost looks like there might be a gap.

Whole thing empties out into the darkest lake I’ve ever seen.

I look back to see if they’re following and Andal seems like he’s in shock; Jack looks okay. Dunno what that was all about at the end there. The girl from eleven could definitely do better than him.

Don’t sweat it Andal. Girls like that are trouble. Hot. But trouble. Had to throw myself to the side to avoid getting hit by the arrows she was sending my way. Wish she hadn’t. She’s cute, but now I have to kill her.

Ain’t time to look for hookups, much as that sounds appealing. The game has started. All that matters now is putting everyone else in the ground. Like Cash Humboldt. I glance at the deep wound he gave me in the melee. It was a good hit. Worthy of a career. Worthy of revenge. Hope he doesn’t object too much when I castrate him on live television.

It won’t kill him, but he’ll probably wish he was dead when I take what I cut off and punt it into the distance.

“Told you we’d take it.” I grunt, staring at chunks of something that are bobbing in the water. Trick of the light maybe, but I thought the same about the fountain in the cathedral at first too. Didn’t take too much investigation to realize it was blood.

Whose?

Well, probably the guy from three, seeing as how he was all laid out like a fuckin’ holiday dinner. He must have pissed off somebody really hard in his training session. See, if a girl like Chi-Chi decides to flash people, it’s seen as a wacky, sexy thing that hot girls do for fun. Nobody is going to complain. On the other hand, if a guy like Morgenstern pulls his pants down in public, its straight to the sex offender registry.

Or in this case, dying before the countdown started.

Could be wrong, maybe he just killed an avox or strangled a career trainer or something mundane like that.

Anyway, I knew we’d take the wealth. I’m the best damn career in this arena. And I did it without relying on my family name for clout too. My hands ball into fists and before I know, I’m making fists so hard it feels like I’m piercing my palms. Everything happened pretty fast. Pretty sure I heard three cannons.

But I only saw one tribute go down.

Girl from three swung on me first. I dodged all those flail swings and then finished it. Or I almost did.

“Plastic princess stole my DAMN KILL!” I shout this to no one in particular.

Voice raises hard on those last two words. Leave it to a pampered princess to rest on her laurels while I do the hard work and then swoop in to get the credit. I was already irritated by the presence of two tributes from a victor family, but now it’s personal. Whatever. The other careers couldn’t beat my score of 10, means they can’t hold a candle to me anywhere else either.

I’ve seen them in action now, I know what to expect. Ace and Silver both rabbited away, further proving that district two has forgotten how to train their careers. The dark haired Fray never even showed. So maybe she was one of the cannons.

Elle stayed in a little longer but it didn’t seem like she was coordinating with anyone. That means the blonde fray is the one to watch out for. Queen bee type with a hype man from 11 egging her on.

Guaranteed that they’ll convince the other girls to die for her, either through intimidation or gaslighting. Happens all the time in the games. Coach made me pay attention to the strategies that come up again and again. Know thy enemy and all that.

Ignoring that my eyeballs feel like they want to crawl out of their sockets on little veiny legs like spiders from hell, I decide to check out the weird looking weapon I pulled out of the tangle of nonsense of the plush wolves and packets of Pomegranate seeds.

My hand had wrapped around the handle and thank fuck, this time there was something attached to the rest of it instead of it just being a sharpened piece of wood. It’s almost like a whip? But made out of tiny blades with an interlocking design.

I swing it once, experimentally before I see the button on the hilt. I press it and the whole thing goes rigid, becoming a sword. Maybe its cause I was thinking about what I plan to do to Cash, but I feel like there’s some kind of symbolism here.

Thinking. Thinking never hurt this much.

I wobble then fall over until I’m sitting heavily on the blood bank and clutching my head. Fuck…I don’t remember drinking anything harder than lemonade the last two days, why do I feel like I have the hangover to end all hangovers?

God knows I could use a nap.

I drift away for a few minutes, maybe even nod off.

That's what I tell myself anyway, because passing out is for losers.

When I open my eyes again I think I’ve gone insane.

Look man, I take pride in my personal appearance. I shower. Grooming’s important.

So why the fuck do my fingernails look like motherfuckin’ claws? And where did all this hair on my arms come from?

Can’t be a trick of the light. What the fuck is going on?

“Hey, you guys seeing this shit?”

Hmm.

Maybe not.

Looks like they’re having physical issues of their own.

- Katrina will do maint in this thread if doing it in a bb flee didn't count. all actions will be in maint-

Last Edit: Oct 19, 2022 13:24:59 GMT -5 by charade

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.
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the pale moonlight // Barovian Bitches day 1 Oct 21, 2022 16:36:36 GMT -5

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Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Oct 21, 2022 16:36:36 GMT -5

He had whistled before Katrina shushed him.

And so, shoulders slouched and head bent low, Andal anchored himself to a some stray melody in his head to keep himself from going absolutely insane. He’d heard a whole trove of stories, and all of them had pretty dreadful endings. Tributes tearing themselves and each other apart, tributes resorting to darker acts than slaughter … he shook his head. Sunshine and rainbows.

Yeah, let’s picture those instead.

The place around grew darker and dimmer, transforming to something more sinister despite each resolute step from their trio. Grass became briars, briars became barbs, and barbs became forests of thorns. Every shadow moved like they had a volition of their own; every gust of wind drifted past them like distant howls. Wolves. He swore he spotted one midway, shaggy-furred and with a gleam in its eyes. Andal’s knuckles had since tautened to a ghost-white around the hilt of his scythe, refusing to let go.

As the sun—or rather, some hint of it behind clouds—began disappearing, the moon that followed on its heel shone dazzlingly bright even though it had only started to show. It was bright. It was beautiful. It was—it felt like it was bellowing. Calling upon him in its own mystical way.

He noticed some changes on his body late as he stared at the moon throughout the walk. In fact, it was its silvery light that illuminated it first: hair on his arms. Now Andal advocated for shaving, even when it came to parts that rarely needed it, and the hair was too long for it to have grown that quickly.

But it ran down his arms, almost like—fur.

A scent of blood entered his nostrils, sharpened his thoughts to a singular shard. Ears perked, nose flared, and Andal looked around to see that they were approaching a distinctive area: maroon-colored, and reeking of blood. Or rather, scented like a rare steak, ready to be consumed. His stomach rumbled. His teeth ground against each other. What? He ran his tongue over his molars. Did his teeth feel sharper, more jagged?

I am going insane. He had to be. Perhaps, long after, his friends would tell a tale of him, too, the tragedy of a handsome, strapping southern lad who had a bad bout of luck and died from hysteria. If his history was to become a campfire tale, then perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

Perhaps he would be told, at least.

He eyed Katrina, caught onto her confusion the same. Hell, perhaps it was the trick of the crimson light reflected from the roaring waterfall they now faced, but even she looked changed: stronger, taller, more terrifying in this scarlet glow. He looked back at Jack, and raised an eyebrow. Jack Price, on the other hand, appeared as though every color had been leached from her skin, leaving her a pale canvas of white that was broken only by greenish-blue veins.

He hadn’t gone insane. Something was terribly amiss.

A shock of pain tore through his fingernails in the same instant as that thought—so sudden it made him keel over with a cry and a gasped “fuck!” Sharpness was what he felt first, a burrowing sharpness that now begged to come out, to reach the surface. “S—Something’s happening to me, gu—” the word cut off in another scream, right as blood beads from the tips of his fingers, right as bone protrudes out from where his nails originally were. He dropped to the ground, clawed at it.

Clawed at it.

He looked down at his own, now bloody fingers. The ends of it were sharp enough to slit a throat.

Andal blinked. This had to be a dream. Had to be, or he'd have to try and wrap his head around the impossible, impossible fact that his nails were now replaced by five sharp rows of what he assumes to be ... claws.

堕落天使

sidney
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the pale moonlight // Barovian Bitches day 1 Oct 22, 2022 7:17:08 GMT -5

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Post by sidney on Oct 22, 2022 7:17:08 GMT -5

J A C K

You thought you would have had more blood on your hands after that. More to show for all the spoils of war. It didn't feel like a war. A battle, maybe. But it had been the girl from One that had actually killed someone. Not you. Maybe you could make it out of here without becoming one. A killer, that is. You hadn't thought it possible, seen so many in arenas decorated just as great as this one rack up body after body, clawing their way to the final show. That was what you envisioned.

You're a little disappointed, despite how despicable that makes you feel.

Deep down, you wanted to make a name for yourself here. Because you knew it would be your only shot at getting out of Eons alive, with the ability to drag Espie straight to the top with you. Exactly where you've always thought she belonged. And you figured you'd have to drop a few bodies at your feet to get there. You wanted to, actually. And perhaps that's why you're left feeling so deflated even with so much loot at your fingertips.

You gather up things silently, not really paying attention to Katrina or Andal. More so keeping a keen eye on the former than anything else. She's not to be trusted farther than you can throw her, and now that she's gained a considerable amount of furred muscle and very sharp claws, that's even less. You've leaned on Andal more these past few weeks anyway, confiding in him little snippets of your emotions, using him, really, to process this certain death the three of you most likely face. He's been sweet. Kind. Which is more you feel you deserve whenever you lock eyes with him. Because you know you could slit his throat in the blink of an eye if it came down to it.

Now, you avoid them both. But it's not because you've changed your loyalties, but more so because the two of them reek. It singes the insides of your nose, the disgusting air about them. You can't for the life of you figure out why, but the two of them smell like wet dog. Disgusting!

"Ugh, can you two keep your distance," you choke back the words, trying not to inhale through your nose but it's hopeless. The stench is overwhelming. "Please, I just," you back away slowly, taking the lead as you pull the two away from the little makeshift camp the three of you had crafted to rest at. "I know just the place for a couple of wolves."