strife walks with you | [larissa v ulysses, day 7]

U L Y S S E S.

My untied shoe slides further and further as I walk. About ten minutes ago, it became too much of a hassle to keep stuffing them underneath my heel. The laces fly out five steps later. Strings flap around, slashing my ankles as I move. "Torian?" I've gotta see him one last time. Watching him run away in the hologram wasn't enough. He's gotta know some things. How proud I am of him for making it this far. How I know it's going to be tough, but he's gotta keep trying. How I need his help to tie this fucking shoe. "Torian." A hopeful whisper through the blighted woods.

It's dusk when I hear a whisper. "Psstt… over here." Torian. I turn in the voice's direction, on guard after two days of pesky whispers leading to a fight. I don't see anything until the mirror within my sword flashes an antler from the bushes. Those antlers, oh those fucking antlers! "Tori-" I can't finish the thought before I'm pulling him out of the bushes and into an embrace. "You're not hurt, right? I saw the holograms and you looked bad, but…" I inspect him up and down. It was hard through the hologram to see what was a real wound and what was fake. It feels like one of those moments where a panicked father who lost his son sees him at long last. "I got stabbed a few times since I last saw you but I'm fine. No infections either....oh, and the guy who threatened me is the one who died. I got away."

"Yeah! I watched it all while I was fighting. You did really good. I'm proud of you." Proud doesn't begin to describe it. I'm proud and grateful, thanking each star in the sky for aligning to protect him the way they did. I pull back, holding onto him by the shoulders. "Really, really proud." My pendant glows a brighter blue when I'm close to him, and his a more vibrant yellow. Sun and moon, back together after two days of being separated.

"You won then, against Lillybird? That was real…"

"Yeah!" Fight still fresh in my mind, I smile. "Her chess board got completely wiped out." I'm not sure if Torian is big on chess, but if he heard any bit of our battle, maybe he'll understand what I'm referencing.

Torian talks about how everyone that he's met over the past couple of days has enjoyed the fighting, Lillybird included. He fought her the day before. "Is that normal?"

I've talked about the more complicated side of that answer enough times to make a novel. "No. No, it's not, this is not normal. It's fucking bonkers!" Normal people are being forced to do cruel things. You see it on television and think it has to be acting. But Luna… Lillybird… all the others. The fighting spirit is real. And it's not going to stop. "Listen. I think we just need to split up. I wanted to talk to you one last time. They're not going to force us to hurt each other." They'll kill me before I lay a hand on Sunshine Torian Vice, even if we're the last two people in the arena. I won't do it.

"You think that's what's coming next?" We've been in here long enough to freely talk strategy with one another. Where's the best place to go? How do we evade fighting with other tributes? How do we avoid fighting each other? Putting the pieces together, I nod. "They've done it for two days with the pixies, they're gonna try it again."

"So the pixies bothered you too?"

"Mhm… almost caught me mid-piss." In terms of gear, I have more left over than Torian. Gloves, a chest piece. Without another thought, I start to pull the gear off, holding them out for Torian to take.

"Why are you giving me this? Don't you need it?"

If I wanted to live over you, maybe. "No! No, I don't need it," I tug at my collar. I could give him some bullshit excuse about how his body needs more protection than mine because he is less developed, but I won't lie to him about my intentions. I'll just withhold admitting the full truth aloud. "It's getting a little too stuffy with all this stuff on." I hold them out against his chest. "You can have it all."

"Are you sure?" Torian inspects the armor. Everything's still intact, unlike my helmet and second chest plate. Those are long gone. "You need to be safe too."

There's something simplistic about the way Torian speaks. Honest, observant, genuine, and always a bit perplexed. Perhaps he knows deep down that I'm hiding something. Ah, the way he pulls at my heartstrings. I think on a response… I know I told him I wouldn't lie, but I think the truth, that I want him to survive over myself, would hurt him more at the moment. "You know, I've always liked living on the edge. Don't worry about it. Just keep that stuff on and stay safe."

"I'm gonna try. You need to as well."

No need to respond to that. I'll do what I can, but knowing how the Gamemakers act, the best way to protect both of us is to stay as far away from one another as possible.

I pat him on the back twice. "Stay bright, Sunshine." I turn back, scampering off toward the ascending moon. I can't tell him goodbye. Nope, no goodbyes. No, I'm not strong enough for that. But I'm a few steps away when a pair of arms wrap around my ribs. It's Torian, with a hug goodbye.

"Stay safe."

"I'll try."

I pull back from Torian's embrace, just to trip as I step away. "Oh, wait. One more thing. Do you think you can, um," I point down at my shoelace, untied. I don't want to admit aloud that I can't tie them. It's always been a little embarrassing. He shoots a warm smile, bending down and knotting them up. "Thanks, dude."

I turn back, for good this time. "Stay safe."

"I'll try."

Torian's face fades in the mirror of my sword. I move quicker now, my mind buried in the thoughts and feelings I didn't have the guts to say to his face. Once far enough away, I whisper them into the lonely space. "Torian, he's the brightest, most intelligent person I know. If I could do my entire life over again, knowing what I know now, I'd want to make myself more like him. Innocent but so real at the same time. I want him to win, I think. Give him forty, fifty, sixty years and he'll become the wisest victor of the bunch. Me? What good am I gonna do with that much time? Torian isn't just a good person. He brings out the good in others. Me, Jayson, Caspian, he did all that." I bury my head in my palms. "He's got to fucking win this shit, man. He has to." Far away from him now, I look back at my sword. He's not with me anymore, but I still see his face on the edge of my sword.

I wander through the night, tears in my eyes from thinking about it all. Thinking about the future: pain from the thought of Torian not being in it and pain from the thought of not getting to see Torian grow up for myself.

---

I don't think I've explored this side of the arena before. The orchard is filled with promising trees. I pull an orange down from one, but with the rainfall it almost melts, gushing in my hands. Of course, the food would be too easy if they left an entire orchard. Who'd want to leave this part of the arena if everything was what it appeared to be? Oranges, apples, bananas, peaches, all of them have the same deal. Nothing good to eat, even with a desperate appetite.

I pull as many of the fruits as I can down from their tree, leaving them in a pile. Maybe there's an opportunity to build a trap within the pile of food. If the fruits are soggy enough, digging into the pile with enough force… maybe hiding some sharp knives or glass from the mason jar could give someone some nasty cuts. I move the fruits from the tree into the pyramid stack in pairs. Bananas on the bottom, then the apples, then the peaches. I'm back to the orange trees when someone rounds the corner of the line of peach trees.

Larissa. The one Torian mentioned helped him to learn how to trap things in the Training Center. One week in, bartering with connections like that won't save my skin. I pull an orange off of the tree, one that very well might be my last. Without saying anything, she approaches, shining glaive in hand. And I don't move or run away. If this is what it takes, then I'll get it done. When push comes to shove, there are few people that would spare another so late into the game. And her two allies are alive. Torian and I are low on her list, even with his connection to her.

The green acid on her blade sizzles in the rain. She swings and I glide backward, only letting the dull end of the glaive cut at my back. In return, I throw the orange at her first, hoping it'll at least catch her off guard some. But I've got my sword in the other.

I'm glad she said nothing. It's comforting because we can say so much through silence. Words are fun, and talking is fun, but after stepping away from Torian for good, I think I'd rather say nothing, too. Our eyes tell the story to each other: so be it.

I look at the reflection in my sword. Torian is still there, in some haunting spirited way. And my pendant still glows. He's still out there.

This is for him more than it is for me. I look away from the reflection and just swing.

U L Y S S E S.

The orange misses completely. It was just a way to gauge the wind in the area, though. Or at least that's what I'll tell myself when everything settles. The sword, on the other hand, slices through the fabric of her clothes and into her thigh. It's just a little something that my spar with Xaahira in the training center taught me. Know when to miss, when to hit. I thought that her struggles had taught me when to fight and when to give in, but the week's worth of unnatural hell across our faces and bodies isn't enough to deter me from fighting.

The blood of Perry, Luna, and Lillybird stayed on my sword for hours until I got the courage to clean it off. But the rain rinses Larissa's into the dirt. Blood is water in this place, keeping the rotted cores of the fruit in their disguises. I check my backside for more citrus ammunition, but the rain showers have already flattened the pile.

This is the most intimidating battle left. In our previous two meetings, she and I didn't have much time to interact together. Caspian decapitated Numair, and all of the pressure the day after came from Magi and Lara. Being from District One, she knows all of the right things to do when maneuvering a fight. The angles, the flicks of her wrist, the positioning, everything that the trainers spoke about that flew miles over my head. How to be competent in this game. Aside from killing Lillybird and taking Perry's foot, I haven't done much in the way of competence. I've talked people's ears off, maybe, probably more than I should have. But at the end of the day, the killing blow is all that matters whether it be a knife through the heart or a flick on the temple.

Still managing that silence, Larissa's green sword burns through the upper part of my leg. I pull back before the layer of acid slides down into the wound. A squeak comes through my lips as I do my best to resist the urge to say something witty or clever. It didn't amuse Luna, it didn't amuse Lillybird, and it sure as hell won't amuse someone as focused as Larissa. I drag part of my torn pantleg down to cover the wound from the muddy puddles splashing with each footstep.

I take my sword, wiping the last few drops of her blood (and maybe some of mine, too,) off the blade. The light wind pushes the rain against the side of my face, instigating me to get closer to Larissa and the cover of the trees. I grunt from the pain, flailing my sword toward Larissa again. It has to be this way, as tiring as it may be. With resignation in my eyes, I look at her, refusing to break the silence. Focus. Focus. Focus. Maybe someone of Larissa's prestige and mindset might appreciate the straightforwardness of the moment.

U L Y S S E S.

Maybe I should have listened better to the trainers. None of this has been good enough to make her second guess a thing. Come to think of it, no one hit against another tribute, aside from the gash to Lillybird's side when I needed it most, has been good enough. It was the creature within the portal of the Cornucopia that sent her hivemind after Luna, entombing her in their swarm. It was Torian who bravely dealt that final blow to Lara. And when it came to Perry, even without a foot, her giant gryphon protected her. One successful play in six days worth of them.

The roots wrapped around my chest droop as the vines that once gnarled the chest piece together come undone. It falls into the mud, splashing dirty water halfway up my leg. Now, all that's left are a few thorns and twigs stuck inside my coat and my pockets, poking with every deep breath in. I've been in messier positions before. Back home, we tried doing tricks and stunts over the ramps on our bicycles. I could pick up a lot of speed going up and down those things, so much so that I went too fast over a ramp. I fell all the way down the backside, landing face-first in a huge puddle. Dirty as hell, but at least that was fun. Here, worn down, it's bothersome for a moment. Contrary to what others have said, the memories feel good. You don't realize how good you have it until it's taken away.

Larissa's movement is so unpredictable. Her glaive catches me again, tearing my pantleg in two now rather than just a few splits here or there. I look down through the slit to see the damage and eek does it look bad. The way she's aiming, I wonder if she's going to chop the thing off entirely. Two jabs in and I think she's digging for the bone. The saying goes as long as I'm still standing, I'm alive, and I believe she's trying to make that real. On the bright side, the acid poison stuff that once caked her weapon has mostly rinsed off of the metal, clumps of smoked green sizzling now in the puddles. That's one part of the challenge out of the way, outlasting that stuff. I saw the type of damage it did to Luna with my own jar of it.

On reflex from yesterday, I look past her for a moment, hoping to see those holograms pop up again. At least maybe then I'd be able to see if Torian's doing well or not. Is he fighting out there? Did he stay in the bush? The blue of my pendant continues to pulse with the heavy drops of rain like a little heartbeat. I'm selfish for hoping to see him again. If I could see him, it means he'd be able to see me. Fighting Larissa. And at this rate, losing. But I pray anyway that his antlers poking out, or maybe getting caught in one of the apples.

I mouth his name twice, Torian, please. Torian, please. I don't believe in a god, but I'll pray to one anyway. Oh omniscient wise badass sexy stud of a greater power, please protect him. He's a good kid. Someone's gotta do right by him in here.

It's a big brother thing. They'll call it a bad influence if they don't look further than the shallow.

U L Y S S E S.

I thought I caught her for a moment, my sword chipping away at Larissa's chest. I push harder, each piece of armor chipping and cracking like a lock being picked. I grunt as she tries to deny the sword from piercing her chest. It's the first time either of us have said anything intelligible aloud today. But it's her who wins out; the big, daunting Leroux legacy name.

I've got a legacy, too: Daniel Ulysses III, Dan for short, just like my dad and Grandpa. But it's not as powerful as Larissa's. There's a wince behind my first name. That's why I don't like to use it very much. I haven't said that to anyone in this arena, or anyone at all. Hearing his name called in the funeral home and seeing his headstone in the cemetery, was all jarring as a little kid. "You are Danny's son, no?" … "Lord, please welcome Dan into the gates of heaven." … Father. Son. Brother. Daniel Ulysses Jr. There is so much power in a name, but when you lose someone, the use of the name can bring just as much pain. The pressure of a legacy, even if it's not a notable one, isn't what I wanted to live by, and it's not what I want to die by either. So I chose Ulysses. Just as much my name as the other parts, but the part that hurts the least. (Plus, the kids at the playground thought it was badass to be called by your last name.)

One of the fruits splatters when bitten into, the juices of the peach and blood of the creature that bit it burst through the sky like some sort of time bomb. Gruesome way to go, killed by forbidden fruit. But at least it's not by a glaive charging forward. Larissa's back again, same time, same angle, same place. Third time's a charm, one, two, three. Her blade, perpendicular to my body, slices cleanly this time, cracking bone and sending me onto the ground. The puddles of mud and rainwater are deeper than they appear from standing straight. Every twitch of pain buries my knee deeper into the flood.

I don't know if I'm going to stand up from here. My leg isn't completely chopped off, but it might as well be at this rate. I slide my weight onto my good leg's side, doing whatever I can to keep the mud away from the rip in my leg.

Larissa spoke first. She might win the battle between us, but I kept the silence the longest. A game neither of us agreed upon, but I'll brag about it to my grave. So… what can I say now that that game's over?

At close range, I look up to her. "To the skies." I quote Larissa back to her. More for myself than anything else. "I really liked that line." With one last ditch effort, I swing my sword, the hilt flying out of my hands by the end of it all.