Things Look So Bad Everywhere // [Starlords Day 5]

"Base?" Pierce whispers between the three of them.

"Yes, please," the words can't come out quick enough, just as the hike away from here can't be finished fast enough. It seems they've redeemed themselves in a way, using Dorothy Hope's own tactics against the careers and picking up yet another kill. Haizea tried to look at it as a tally, as points towards mach game, but it doesn't make the blow any softer.

Why am I good at this? 

What about Haizea makes killing so easy? It toys with her brain more than she can control it, visibly shaken as always on their walk back. Pierce looks like shit; well, from the knee down. It's getting worse with the passing days, but they did it. They took down a career, they made it to day 6 yet, they've won the wealth - apart of her feels unstoppable. On top of the world, even if they're headed in the opposite direction. 

The base greets them like home and a sad bit of her almost expected Amaterasu to be waiting there for them. She wasn't, of course, but the minute hope left Haizea a little devastated (just a little). Just a reminder that they were good; although, not perfect. Pierce thinks correctly, while she's caught up in ghosts he's thinking of defenses, of the base's strength that needs to match their own. They've made this little cut out of a cave into their own for the past 3 days, they'd be fools to let it fall on the westside. 

Haizea eagerly takes note before attempting to walk off, Pierce pleading with her, confusingly. She didn't know what Brennan could do that she couldn't, or what Pierce needed from her in response, but she stayed regardless. "Is it your leg? Is there any way I can help, Pierce?" She offers as topics, for some reason nervous of whatever he will bring up on his own. 

She takes a seat next to him, sitting the katana next to her gently and pulling her knees to her chest. As much as she wants this to be about his gross, busted knee, she knows he's thinking elsewhere. A portion of Haizea wishes to revel in the simplicity that comes from winning, but there's always work to be done. There's a sigh that releases from her before responding, "okay. Let's talk." 

---

collects items from rene
burns firewood to purify water
drinks agua mm

---

delivery word? :is_for_me:

f7fgHhVYZm1-2

naur

"We gotta talk shop. Strategy," he says, "like I did with Svet the other night."

Her name awakens butterflies in Haizea's stomach, not too different from the cacophony of doves flying past herself and Pierce. Littleton's been counting the cannons, she's been counting from the night anthems. They tend to fall on her night watch shifts, trumpets heralding another midnight that she survived to. She didn't know how many she had left, reasonably, all it takes is one mistake to end it all. 

However it happens, she just hopes it's quick.

Perhaps that's why she trusts Pierce so much; if he ever backstabbed her, she knows he'd do it when she's asleep. When she looks in his eyes though, she can't imagine him doing it - not after all of this. She had no clue how much she would grow to trust him and Brennan, it means something when you trust someone with your entire life. "Some people are gonna give up," he says, "they'd rather die here than face the consequences back home. Some people got hurt badly early on."

She can't hide the concern that shocks on her face, don't say that. The insinuation that he won't make it, she can't picture this arena without the two of them. Brennan needs him, and so does she. It's all she can think about until he reassures her they'll scrape by, someway, somehow. Day 6 to Day 9 and whatever happens in the finale so be it, she won't betray them. A shameless part of her grins when he calls her strong, that she's somehow proved herself to Pierce Littleton of District 2. 

Just as she did with Maverick. 

Haizea imagined herself winning the entire thing, and somehow it doesn't feel unrealistic anymore. I might go home. 

Pierce tells her to stay focused and play the social game, and he's smart to think so. Katelyn had broken down the formula of the games for her; the feast could be coming soon. Or a king mutt, or a stampede that breaks up alliances. She finds herself overwhelmed with possibilities, so she agrees with Pierce's plan without thinking twice. "Okay," she pipes up, "this is when the game gets harder, huh?" It's impossible to guess what's coming next, only that she hoped they made it through it okay.

"I've been trying to remember who all is still-" alive "-in the arena." There's a grief she can't shake when she's faced with how many people have already died. Tributes, that's what they are. "I was friends with Maverick, but I think I messed things up there," she says, trying not to think of Rene Sumner. 

"Dyno definitely wants my head now too, and the boy from eight," jeez, she's made a few enemies. Day 6 looked more grim by the second, "but- oh," she can cover her creeping smile but she can't cover how her cheeks blush. "I kissed Itzal back in the training center, so I think we're on great terms," it's a nice distracting thought, at least. "Would it be smart to message him?" 

---

delivery word? :is_for_me:

0mStzn_fmK1-2

"Gotcha! Hey little guy, you're coming with me now."

〖    b r e n n a n    f i t z g e r a l d    〗

"BREN! SOUP'S ON!" Pierce's yell echoes down the mountain. I roll onto my back and grab one of the tree's low branches to pull myself up. The sunset's warm tones have chilled between gray clouds and stars poking through. I wonder how long I was lying here. It was probably reckless to leave myself unguarded out here, especially when we know Dyno is nearby and would love to settle the score. My hair crinkles against my wartorn lime top, but I eventually put it back into its much less bothersome place.

Scanning the surroundings as I push forward, I have my katana at the ready, both hands at the hilt just in case I need some extra push. I've always been a lightweight, even when I wasn't hungry and without food for the past five days. I do have some rice in my bag, but I'd rather save it for do or die situations. There are only a handful of tributes remaining, I can't be wasteful under the guise of sure death. The chances of survival are higher now than ever before, and my confidence has risen. I can do this if I'm strategic enough, intentful enough, strong enough.

I can see the faint glow of our cave ahead. If it wasn't for Haze's fire, I might've lost our camp entirely. And that would be a heavy blow to the anxiety I've been working so hard to overcome. I hold the straps of my bag tight and move along the tree lines when I can in order to draw as little attention as I can.

Boom.

A cannon blows like a gust of wind against the trees. Fallen leaves rattle and the branches sway. My senses mistake it for footsteps or an arrow flying through the wind, and I hold myself against the tree as if a boy in bright lime clothing is going to evade a hunter in the mountains. It was just a cannon. Why be scared? I should be overjoyed? I gather myself, picking back up my roll of tape bandages that I'd dropped amongst the surprise. Another person is dead, and it serves as a reminder that one small fight isn't the ceiling for what can happen on a game day. Someone could still be out there. Watching, waiting for the right time to strike.

Once the trees clear, I keep my head down and begin sprinting to the cave. As much as I've proved that I can carry my own weight, it's always better to be with your numbers. I make it back to our base's entrance without much trouble aside from the heavy beat of my heart. "Hey… sorry. I got distracted out there." I wipe the sweat off my forehead and set my bag down. It looks like they were busy in here, writing down the names of all the remaining tributes on the cave.

"Hope I didn't miss too much," I say calmly as I sit by the fire, hands folded in my lap. Cool as a cucumber, and I definitely wasn't terrified that I'd be shot and killed out there all alone.