love remind me / [KC vs Feylost vs Manticut]

The fight with Xaa erupts like a slow-moving hurricane and Will is stuck in the eye. Xaa hisses at her, a storm of a girl, her clawed nails sharp as daggers as they move toward Will’s neck, where she’s sure her heart is beating out of control.

A failed experiment. A waste. A bet that shouldn’t have been made. “I thought you were smarter than that. Words can make or break a person. Don’t forget who made you because I can break you just as easily."

Will feels her heart tear in her chest, an ache like a festering wound, like the poison from yesterday even as she stands whole and alive. Each beat from her stupid fucking chest is a reminder of what they did. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t - I can’t just sit here and watch you do whatever the fuck it was you did back there, Xaahira! A god?! You’re a fucking god now?! You delusion piece of work! If you're a god, why the fuck did Thomas have to fight your battles? Why the fuck is Luna the one who is battered and bleeding? If you’re so powerful, you don’t need me! I’m done!”

She somehow escapes the scene without a knife in her back. When she returns to the group, Luna and Thomas eye her warily. Thomas’ voice is like gravel, stones. Like earth and rocks and something you can hold onto. Like Will, he’s as much a part of the land as Will breathes dust from coal and stone.

He catches her as she leaves, his voice clipped and breaking. “Please don't go. Don't leave me with them. I- I don't want to be like them, and I need you to be there."

His pleas ring in her ears long after she’s pulled the friendship bracelet off her wrist, tossed carelessly in his direction the same way she wished she could throw feelings for him, for Xaa, for Luna away. He was too much like home, threatening to bury her in nostalgia and memory, even as his weapon drew the final breath for the boy from Six.

Her head was in agony as she packs up her satchel, slinging it over her should with a nod to Luna. She wills herself to make a mask and form it to flesh, fluttering warm against her hands, black like the aura that flows around her now, in a shape that would fool those watching. She needs to hold herself together for just a bit longer, showing the model of a girl with a painted smile as rage, anger, and desperation tears through her damaged body though no wound lingers on the surface.

She feels herself changing once again. Tear stains along her face trail down her neck and chest, her arms and legs. Pulling up her sleeve, she sees her veins the color of deep dark tar, her hands a mess of black stains. Marred. Tarred. A reminder of the blood they spilled. 

She shouldn’t be surprised when she stumbles upon Krueger, the light in his eyes fading as the canons boom and the faces of four tributes light up the sky. She holds her hands up, eyes wide as he stares at her. As he stares through her, a lunge and his spear at her neck. Thousands of eyes stare through her. His wounds blink like Argus, always watching.

Shit, say something. “We don’t have to talk. Like at all if you don’t want to. But I would really like to wake up without a knife in my back, if that works for you too.”

He doesn't believe her. Of course, he doesn't. Who would after three days in this fucking hellhole? “- I just watched my ally get a knife through her eye by a half-dead girl. I don't want a knife in my back or my eye, Will."

Will puts her hands down then, a deep sigh escaping her lips. She doesn’t miss the way he holds the spear, knuckles flashing white as his eyes flash black.

“I can do that,” she reassures him.

“Where are your allies?” A question, a demand, and Will shouldn’t laugh but she has to, a bark of it escaping her lips. The spear stays pointed at her jugular.

“If I had to guess, Luna is probably getting patched up by the good doctor while Xaahira tries to figure out how she can amass more followers. It's the new world order, it seems.” She pauses, chewing on her words and deciding if they would taste truthful. "They aren’t a threat, Kreuger.”

His emotions, like hers, are frayed and they’re both standing there hauling the weight of this stupid fucking place on their shoulders, gold finery in rags around them like their souls.

"So then why'd you leave 'em?"

Why had she left them? Because she felt too much with Xaa? Because each moment with Thomas was a reminder that they were all going to wind up dead in this place and friendship and home have no place here? The words die on her tongue and Will rubs furiously at her cheeks, dark hands leaving darker stains.

"It didn't feel right. With them. If we're all gonna die here, I want to do it with my integrity intact. Otherwise, what's the point?" Was she lying? She couldn't tell anymore, at least not to Krueger and certainly not to herself.

"And that means allyin' with a boy covered in eyes? Funny way of keepin' that integrity intact, Hush." No fucking shit.

"You were the first person I found. Target of opportunity, if you will. And at least this way you'll always see me coming." The joke falls flat, but at least Krueger has moved his spear away from her neck, taking a step back.

"Ha- yeah. I've got a lot of eyes for that."

---

They don't sleep easily. A tentative truce knows no peace and although Will turns away from Krueger, the tarp a poor blanket over shoulders and a reminder that she doesn't have a warm body next to her, she can feel his endless eyes on her. They wake and Krueger's wounds weep as they heal, an eyeball falling to the ground with a splat. Perhaps its a trick of the light, or lack of the light, as the day dawns dark all around them. Willow pulls up her tunic again to see the dark outlines of her veins like oil slicks on tan skin. This place was fucking them up and fucking her head up.

They need to move, obviously, and Krueger is the first to vocalize it was he grabs his spear once more. "This forest'll be the death of us, Hush. We should break for it while we've still got the nightfall as cover." A nod is her only response and she glances around, hoping that they don't come across her former allies who are no doubt lost in the day darkness too.

Her knives are in her bag as they set out but she has the butterfly knife from deeper in the forest gripped like a talisman as they walk. Footsteps echo around them and it only seems to get darker as the day grows older.

Fate is such a wicked bitch, Will thinks, as Krueger tells her to stay close, only for him to lash out with his spear at the same three tributes that she had the misfortune of fighting yesterday. They didn't deserve it then. Do they deserve the pain now? And is she the one to play judge and jury all over again?

Before she can answer that, she reacts, stepping level with Krueger and raising her knife, an apology on her lips that dies with the swing of her blade.

Elijah is still trying to process that Quinten is no longer with them. He was the glue of their group, but now it's just the three of them. Elijah struggles to find the common thread holding them together, but he worries that they will fray apart sooner than later. Vallen was nice enough to give Elijah his own friendship bracelet, and Elijah still managed to patch himself up pretty nicely, but he knew that he still be the main target tomorrow if they were to run into other tributes. Elijah lies against a tree beside Vallen, unsure if he should comfort his ally. Trying to figure out interpersonal relationships with those outside of his church is still a new phenomenon for Elijah, and the fact that he is learning in the Arena only compounds the complexity and anxiety of the situation.

Elijah is still unsure if he should apologize to Lillybird either. He was trying to join in on her taunting the other alliance, yet he feared that it was taken the wrong way. He might have come across the wrong way as well. Back at home, he didn't talk to others much, usually keeping to himself at the jail. At least the other church members held the same beliefs as Elijah. Now he's dealing with people who do not have the same values as him. Xaahira saw herself as a god, which Elijah knew was bullshit. Ripred was the only true god, even if he couldn't fully get behind Father Garcia's teachings. Four faces paint the night sky, and Elijah is surprised and pained by the faces looking back at him. Both boys from District Four have already died, their faces encompassing Quinten's and a girl from Nine. Elijah still feels guilty that he couldn't protect his ally in these Games, and that guilt ate him as he fell asleep.

When they woke up, Vallen took up the leadership helm the Quinten previously held, simply stating "We should move." Elijah couldn't help but agree with that. They went farther south, going farther away from the lagoon. The trees start to give way to barren land, but the sun doesn't rise. The stars are ever-bright as they continue illuminating the sky, and the moon is perpetually full. The barrenness crumbles away, giving out to a pool of water, where bodies float on the surface. Their faces are in perpetual screams as they look at the night sky. Elijah can't help but wonder if the Gamemakers had created those twisted mutations from the dead tributes. Is one of those bodies Quinten? Elijah is still unsure if he wants the answer to that when Vallen whispers , "Stay alert." They spread around this body of water in a deep cavern straight into the ground. Elijah keeps his wits about him, but a voice throws him off.

"Three versus two... seems a lil' unfair, no?"

Elijah turns around to see Krueger stab a spear deep into his neck. Elijah is grateful that the attack was not fatal, but this wound goes deeper than his body. Elijah can't help but look deep into those eyes that had captivated him at the training center. Only this time, those eyes weren't curious or even distrusting. Those eyes were now filled with a fire and determination that only brought Elijah in more profound than before. Elijah manages to sidestep Willow's first attack, and she gets a shallow cut on his shoulder, but she's not his primary concern.

"Krueger," Elijah starts, his voice straining as the muscles in his neck strain. "I never thought it would come to this, but I can't blame you. The lack of blood would only last so long before the Gamemakers force our hands. If you'll indulge me for a minute, what are you fighting for back home?" Elijah asks. They previously avoided talking about deeper issues like this, but Kreuger knew where Elijah came from, and that kind of history is hard to overlook. He gives time for Krueger to think and turns on Will, the girl from yesterday that attacked him.

"Where is Xaahira Will? Realized that she was full of shit and that none of us could parade around under the guise of playing god? Glad you managed to see the charlatan that she was. Too bad we have to kill you now, though."

Elijah swings his hand at Will, hoping to inflict the same pain she inflicted on him yesterday.

[Elijah attacks Will; clawed hands (knife)]
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[2146 - DG Left Thigh - 8.0]

Will’s exposed.

Without Luna or Thomas to hide behind, she feels the sting of two attacks scrape across her body like razor blades. It’s the wound at her thigh that causes her to stumble, blood feeding the rocks and plants all around them as the wind whispers a chorus of betrayal. Krueger stands tall next to her as the three loom large in the shadows, but it's the shimmer of gossamer that makes her stop in her tracks. She was never fucking good at numbers, but she could count to three, and that meant that they were sure as shit outnumbered.

The boy who had tasted her steel yesterday, steps up mightily, a crown of faith wrapped around his head like a halo, even as the day's darkness descends upon them in only a place that heaven could never venture.

"Where is Xaahira, Will? Realized that she was full of shit and that none of us could parade around under the guise of playing god? Glad you managed to see the charlatan that she was. Too bad we have to kill you now, though."

Gritting her teeth together, eyes shining black in the wan light, Will touches a hand to her bleeding thigh, her palm painted red before she touches her mouth, a bloody handprint a tattoo of war on her flesh.

“Shut the fuck up, dude." Great, awesome start. "You think you know, Ten, but you have no fucking idea who I am or what I think. If I were you, I would save your breath for your salvation. Because in case you didn't realize, there are no gods here. Just us devils."

Elijah is dying, he knows it and there’s no point in denying it. He wanted to prove that he was worthy, but getting to meet all of these people, to see what life is like outside of the cult, Elijah knew that he couldn’t fight for a faith he no longer believed in. To hold onto the delusion and die for that is worse than anything he could have imagined. He’s grateful for the allies he made, and the people he got to talk to. He’s grateful for the fact that they were able to deal with his lack of social skills. He is grateful for the chance that he had to get out of the commune. He wishes it have to end like this but he has a few more breathes left in him, and he’s not afraid to use them to express how pissed off his that he let himself be taken advantage of.

“What you mean Ten?” Krueger asks him. “That fuckin’ place ain’t my home, Elijah. Home’s a myth E. I'm fightin' for whatever's left of my people back there.“ Elijah couldn’t help but realize how little he knows of his district partner. Granted why should have Elijah formed any sort of attachments to begin with? They were supposed to be sacrifices right? Yet after almost two weeks away from, what he thought was home, Elijah knows that that is far from the truth.

“Are you fighting for that religion of yours to save you?" Krueger asks. Elijah takes a breath before answering, knowing that his answer is going to rock the “church”

“No, I’m not really fighting for anything anymore. Father Garcia only took me in when no else would. He saw a little boy starving, living on the streets and vulnerable and saw an opportunity to groom me, turn me into something that only benefitted him. I stayed in that cult because I felt like I had to. That I had to repay Father Garcia for saving me. I never truly believed in the faith to begin. After talking to you and my allies, I realized how wrong Father Garcia, and how wrong their practices are. So no, I’m not fighting for that band of crazies. I hope District Ten gets rid of them. I hope Mace can get his son back. If anything I’m fighting to make sure my allies stay alive.” Elijah is tired, the energy quickly pouring out of him in deep Ruby red pools mirroring the pools the stand by.

“Krueger, promise me when you kill me that make sure my death isn’t in vain. I have to have hope that my death isn’t just to entertain people. Lilly, take care of Vallen, he’s going to need you.” He turns to Will though, and his anger flares beyond control.

“If you learned how to shut the fuck up and listen you would realize that I never said I knew anything about you. But clearly I struck a nerve. Your actions speak plenty well for yourself. Why would you leave your district partner if you didnt think Xaahira was crazy? That she’s nothing more than delusional? You need to grow the fuck up Will, because you’re nothing more than an immature bitch who can’t handle being called out on her own actions. I’m not the one who needs to pray for salvation. Unlike you I can die knowing I’m at peace with who I am. I hope you death is painful and cruel, maybe you will actually learn something then.”

Elijah uses the last of his strength to lash out, hoping to make his last stroke painful, and that his last action would mean something.

[Elijah attacks Will Hush, Clawed Hand; knife]
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[2009 -- Deep Gash on Neck -- 10.0 damage
(Knife) +1 Blades]

They're dying. Twin stars falling out of orbit at the same speed. Comets burning up in the atmosphere. Elijah and Will are an explosion of angry and vitriol and she wonders why she deserves this boy's ire.

The metal of her knife, covered in gore and blood from herself and Elijah makes purchase again on the boy's body, ripping and tearing skin and Willow wills it all to stop. She never asked for this, never wanted to become someone who spat in the face of loyalty, kissed the cheek of the devil and called it love. She only wanted to find her way back home, but not like this. Not when she was taking pieces out of Elijah and daring him to stop trying to prostelytize to a girl who faith would never look upon. His words are razor blades, tearing into her skin and carving into her heart as she thinks of home. Of Thomas.

“If you learned how to shut the fuck up and listen you would realize that I never said I knew anything about you. But clearly, I struck a nerve. Your actions speak plenty well for yourself. Why would you leave your district partner if you didnt think Xaahira was crazy? That she’s nothing more than delusional? You need to grow the fuck up Will, because you’re nothing more than an immature bitch who can’t handle being called out on her own actions. I’m not the one who needs to pray for salvation. Unlike you I can die knowing I’m at peace with who I am. I hope you death is painful and cruel, maybe you will actually learn something then.”

Well, that's a lot. And then he stabs her in the neck with his claws the moment she dares to linger in his space, the kiss of the steel reminding her that they're both bleeding out.

"Dude, listen," Will begins, because, she honestly has no idea where to start.

"I really don't know what you think you know about me. You act as if you have it all figured out - like you have me all figured out - which, makes no fucking sense because you have no idea who I am or what happened with my allies. If you do all have it figured out, hooray for you, and please tell me your secrets." Will tries to laugh but it gurgles and breaks as she grabs at her bleeding neck. 

"But, honestly, what lesson are we learning here other than how to fuck each other up and tear each other apart? Take your bullshit elsewhere, man."

Will sighs, a deep release of tension that makes her see spots and tears at the gash on her neck. She's tired. Bone weary and bleeding as her voice gives out. What's more is there to say in the face of someone who won't listen?

She decides to let her knife do the talking.