Insufficient - Diomedes vs Dana - bloodbath

Colors greet her vision; a long since dead flag plastered to her chest and bottom. The sort of yarn like material having been crafted to mimic clothing revealing a bit too much, except they've put pasties of pink and blue to hide her modesty. There's a bodysuit that clings to her; covering her like a second skin. It's a strange feeling of being so exposed and yet so covered at the same time. The outfit doesn't ease the thoughts burning in the back of her head.

It'll be time soon. The pods waiting for them to rise higher and higher and higher. The lanyard they stick over her neck is nothing more than a heavy weight as she breathes gently. Last night, she'd dreamt of the freedom she felt for so long. The freedom she earned and how free she flew in Nine. No one to look down upon her. No one to question her name. It was simple. It was easy. It was free. Now she stands trapped like a caged animal in a pod waiting to hunt. Predator and prey hunting one another over and over. A cycle of death and despair. In a way, she was excited. The life before gave her an edge that not many others had, but she also knew death was waiting. Would she die having just got her freedom or fight for it once more?

VIP. She notices the letters and their significance. She's a very important person. The gamemakers had already determined her as such with her score. Pinned a target to her chest for the careers to see and she'd seen too many people stare at her with a hunger. It's a laughable feeling as she stands there quietly twirling the badge. As the pod rises, she can feel her heart in her throat. An echo of a laugh on her lips; the past disappearing in her fingertips. A gentle thrum of music. The hum of electronics. Everything burns to life as the pods extend upwards as the sound of music blares. Too loud and too fast. There's darkness as far as she can see. Eyes adjusting to the change. The timer goes down. A breath of calm. Seconds tick by, her heart weighs close. A moment passes.

Dana Lheureux becomes Panem's Princess.

The dastardly dangerous girl who'd trained to be an officer of peace. It runs through her veins as she moves to look at what's around. In a moment, she stares around, watching Eleven. Diomedes Adama. Hiding away from everything, she follows in the shadows. Quiet as a mouse as he feet take her step by step. Coald from Twelve approaches the guy; Twelve talks. It's a game of watching what happens as chaos flutters around her. A princess watches with interest before the word ally is thrown to the wind; a dance of words. A smile on her lips.

A crack; it's over.

The warning given; only she never cared for warnings.

Following behind, as if she were a shadow, she watches him move back towards the cornucopia. The gentleness of a tiger; ready to pounce on her prey. Strong. Male. Eleven. She wanted to see how long it'd take to break him. There was no living if she didn't make a name for herself. A princess is only a princess if she has the reputation. His words hang in the air to her. "If I were you, I'd back away and leave me alone." A warning. A threat. A moment that she has to turn around and be somewhere else. Holding her tongue, she smiles with teeth. Sharp and jagged; she knows when it's time to strike.

A flurry of her feet as she moves with a comfortable ease; object scooped up in the process as she approaches. Her eyes exploring wildly over him. The desire to take and take and take. There's enough blood on her hands already; what more will another's do. Her voice is calm, filled with a haunted hollowness as she speaks. "What fun would that be?" The jagged edge coming out as she moves her fist back; teeth glittering against the dark room as she pushes forward. "C'mon Eleven, you've already got blood on your hands." A giggle leaves her throat as she swings; body fully lunging as she quickly strikes and moves away.

The way forward goes up and up and up. Higher than the sky. The music blaring. It would be the best game; a game of cat and mouse. She wanted to see him on the ropes. A haunting feeling fills her chest; it's just like before. Ruining reputations was her best shot at gaining freedom. It's only different when there's blood attached to it. Her eyes glance back to him; her smile bright as she continues.

"Diomedes. You're the first one on the Princess of Panem's list."

Fluttering the yarn, she smiles too coldly.

"Show them how much you already love to kill. Isn't that why you killed Coald in the first place?"

Dance.

The word sits beneath her eyes.

The game of cat and mouse begins; feet pushing and pushing as she moves up and up and up. Soon enough the music is blaring less than before, but the lights glowing from across the curtains to her side is enough to make her smile a dastardly smile. The knife in his hand glistens; a note of danger to his presence, but she didn't care about danger. No, she's experienced danger within the walls of the peacekeeping academy where men and women were treated with brutal voices, assertive teachings, and a whole lot of egotistical older men who thought they had the right to make or break someone's career. A giggle almost leaves her throat as she remembers how desperate the commanding officer had been when she ripped his career right from under his nose.

Now, she dances with Diomedes; a game of cat and mouse. A dance of kill or be killed. The strike had only been enough to scare, to pull his attention away and focus on her and only her. "First on your list? You're just another footnote in my life." The words twist through the air; harsh and cold. A jagged edge to them as she feels the brunt hit her chest, but she doesn't feel the heat. There's no jagged edge of words that could pierce her soul; she's made sure of that. Other kids who didn't understand had thrown all the words they could towards her. Made her feel as if she should hide who she is, put it behind a wall and never feel free in herself. She will never go back there. Not again. Not anymore.

The blooming of blackness around her eye is the first sign of the fire beneath Diomedes' soul. An ever burning flame that she soaks in with ease; a dance of fists and words. A footnote is all he wanted her to ever be, but Dana had always been the star. The center of attention. Even when she didn't want to be, she always stuck out like a sore thumb. Bright and carefree. People would always look at her in envy. It's a bottled up feeling that settles in her chest; a heaviness of knowing there'd be nowhere to hide and she'd been right. In the games, she was far more exposed than anyone else. Her score, her body, and herself. Everything she did always made her too visible.

"A footnote? I don't think you know who I am."

A flash of teeth as her hands clutch her side, the knife put onto her belt. She wouldn't need a blade to end this. Memories of long hours being spent swinging fists and legs into others; grabs and holds on her mind. Fighting with her fists always felt the best to her. In an ease of the sway that was their catwalk above the bloodbath below, she smiles. "Nowhere left to run. It's just you and I above the rest." A snicker as she holds her fists up with practiced ease. A clear indication that she's done this too many times. "You'll be nothing more than a dead man soon." Teeth bright and wide as the grin stretches across her lips; there's a flurry of movement as she pushes forward. Fist extended out as she watches with glee.

There's no remorse in her move.

Only excitement at a new fight.

It's a fluttering feeling; the dance of the dead and the living. Pieces of a story meshing together to form a new tale; she could've ran, but she didn't. A tale of two people who've grown in different places. Stories told to them by different people. They share no similarities that she knows of, but their fates intertwine at one point where death and doom seem to reside. A loud upbeat sound of music rising and rising and rising with every second. She can feel the metallic grating underneath her feet. The thrum of music rushing up her body. This was a fight to remember. A fight to win. A fight to explore.

"I don't know who you are, but I know that you aren't as smart as you make yourself out to be." It's like ice to her face; a flash of interest. Smart? She's never said she was smart. Intelligent at times, but never smart. Cunning was a better term. Dana had always been on top of the things she's desired. Pulled the strings of many different people and played them all like violins in a concert. It's a brutal realization to make; her attack blocked by the man before her. Diomedes from Eleven was certainly the perfect target for her. A smile on her lips as she watches him keep up the pace.

The creaking sound of metal underneath her feet is what makes her surprised. If she weren't afraid of making a risky play, she could've gone for the wiring; taken the whole catwalk to the ground and see what tributes would become crushed or safe. A feeling of elation fills her as she watches him; a dance of fists and blows. There's a pause as feels herself unsteady for just a moment. There's a long way down to the ground, but she wasn't planning on dropping down there. Not at all. It would be Diomedes who will fall; bloodied and bruised. The satisfaction of another person being crushed underneath her thumb.

"We all die eventually."

There's a flash of movement; her eyes stare forward as her body drops beneath her. There's a loud thud of metal to flesh as the grating hits her cheek hard. The indentation burning to her skin as she rolls for a second. Body stuck in gravity until she stares to the side. The railing was there, but there was no saving her from feeling like she was going to go over. Arm hanging in the air as her body almost feels like it's about to roll off. Instead, she pushes with her body, rolling over and back onto her feet. Her voice trailing on.

"Would be quite the fall from up here."

Venom fills her lips as she watches him; her eyes focused on his movements. This was the dance she desired. A dance filled with intrigue and fun. A true dance between killers.

"True. We do all die. Tell me," Pushing forward, she lunges for him. Eyes wide and bright; a killer's instinct.

"Are you afraid to die?"

Are you afraid to die?

It dances from her tongue; congealing together with the fragrant smell of desperation in the air; death lingering around the stage of a headliner playing their final tunes. A jam session filled with all the screams of children from all over; it's a despicable thing, but Panem's always thrived on the sounds of children's screams. A dance with death as blood coats a stage; the metaphorical one keeps playing. Afraid. She's afraid of death just like anyone else. Her own blood boils with the thought; dancing along the edges of her bruises as if telling her that she's afraid of what'll come next, but there's freedom in the feeling. Freedom in knowing her choices are her own. Freedom in knowing she's being watched in front of all of Panem as Dana Lheureux. A princess. A girl. A woman. It's a beautiful tale to be spun. All of it thanks to Talon who's opened the door for girls like her.

Normal people would begin to feel the pain in their hands; the burn of bone against flesh. Fighting is an art; a dance to be done with care. The training of a peacekeeper having sent her forward with ease; the form being easy. There's no pain blooming through her flesh. Only bruises to be brought to the surface; an easy smile on her lips. Her strikes starting to get more and more erratic with time. Diomedes was getting easier and easier to read. There's no stopping her when she's set her mind to anything. "Afraid to die? Fuck no. I choose how I die, not you, not the idiots running this sorry excuse of a power grab, no one." A laugh leaves her lips; the idea of power being grabbed loosely hanging in the air. Everyone was afraid to die. Not a single person wasn't. Dana could remember the way she'd seen her own death in the eyes of the commanding officer. The way she could see herself curled up on the streets starving over and over again. Fear wasn't to be taken as light; fear was a powerful tool.

The collision makes her smile as she blocks the brunt of the hit with her hands; the bruise starting to purple already. Her eyes stare at him; hollow and quiet as they move. "Rebellious. Naive." There's a pause as she waits for a moment to let it sink in. "Panem forever, Diomedes. You don't get to choose how you die." A grin wide enough to be a devil's own; the taste of excitement on her lips. "You should be afraid. Everyone is." A laugh leaves her lips; movement ever so gentle reaches to the jar she's seen only on the television. The gunk was black and gooey. Unlike how she always imagined it to be. There's a pause as she reaches in and covers her hands in them. This would be the way to light the soul. To burn away any rebellious intent.

"Let me burn that into your soul, Diomedes."

Aflame; they burn her skin. Fire alights as her fists burn and burn and burn. The light glows above the stage as their VIP badges dance along their chests. It hurts. Dana feels the pain burning right away. The blooming feeling of flame to flesh as they intermix as she grins delightfully as she pushes forward.

"Panem Today. Panem Forever!"