>I Am Skin & Bones< [Colan vs. Raphale]

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>I Am Skin & Bones< [Colan vs. Raphale] Jul 24, 2011 14:08:30 GMT -5

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Post by ∂αмєη on Jul 24, 2011 14:08:30 GMT -5

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G A G E x D E A N x C O O P E R

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I nod in response to Aenor's. So she hadn't killed both, but one was definitely because of her. Unless one of them decided to kill themselves, she had killed. And now every one of us had killed except for Soyala. We were actually like a Career alliance. I mean, with Allen gone, there were only the two District Two tributes and the female from four. The others were with Aenor and I. It felt good to be the strong alliance and to actually be on top. That's the way it seemed at least. For all I knew, there could be some large alliance that was tearing through the other tributes. The amount of cannons I had heard today was insane. And it never seemed to stop. Just when I thought the deaths were done, another one would go off. I had counted five so far. Were there really that many fights going on? Or were others mutts clearing through the tributes. Only six died on the first day. What annoyed me the most was when the cannons interrupted me though. Every time I'd begin to speak, another would go o-

BOOM.

It makes me jump in shock, turning over to where we came from. Exactly what I mean. There was another dead now. Now, if my calculations were right and I heard every single cannon blow, there were twelve dead. Half were cut down in two days. I mean, I should be horrified at the thought but it actually gives me more confidence in my odds. That's what worries me. If I manage to make it out of here, I could become a monster. I never want that to happen. I didn't want to be affected by the Games or to become something I'm not. That was the one thing that I told myself before coming here. But that was something I couldn't stop now. I guess it was too late for wishing and hoping. Even if I managed to get out of here, I wouldn't be the same. And that's the one thing I worried about.

That's when I see the redness in Aenor's eyes. I had heard of her before, her name had rung a bell but I didn't have the honor of knowing her before the Games. She was my district partner though, no matter what happened and I didn't care if it seemed like Seah had the hots for her. Redness in your eyes usually meant tears or allergies, and she hadn't complained about a reaction to something. I made my way over to the log she was sitting on, taking a seat and snatching a stick off the ground. I pulled one of my throwing knives from their holster, dragging it down the wood to carve it out. "You alright?" I ask quietly, looking towards her. Definitely tears. I could tell. I had seen enough tears in my life to know. Had her kill gotten to her?

"Do you want to talk?" My knife shredded off the last layer of outer bark on the stick. Then I tossed it forward. I planned to make a fire if I could gather enough fallen tree wood. Plus I'd need kindling. And matches. But if I could get the right angle, I might not need to waste them at all. That's when I stood up, reaching into my bag and pulling out the three matches. I looked around the group, thinking about who might need them. Then my eyes lock on Seah. He had been at the fire making station as well, I believe. He could use them. "Hey, Seah. Want them?" I then tossed them over to him. I wouldn't need them if everything worked out the way I planned. "Maybe you guys should hunt? We need food sooner or later. I'll get us a fire going." I mutter, turning back to Aenor. It bothered me that she was crying. I just wanted to know why.

"Want to go get some wood and brush together? For the fire?" I offer my hand towards her to help her up, even if it would probably be easy. Before that though, we'd need to move from the bodies. I set off in the direction opposite the jaguars, keeping an eye open for wood. Then I saw a few broken logs in the distance. They would have to do. Grabbing as much as I could carry, I made my way to the nearest clearing, hoping that Aenor was following close behind. And luckily, there was enough light pouring through the top that my trick might just work. I placed the logs in the position I was taught, grabbing a bit of grass and leaves around me. Then I removed my glasses. The instructor also wore glasses and seemed excited that a student of his could possibly learn a trick or two.

And just like he taught me, I positioned my glasses to direct the burning soon on the brush. And it caught fire quickly. I stepped back a bit, getting a good look at what I had made. I would ask for the tarp that Seah had later to put over us, just in case it rained or something. And that might help with ensuring that the smoke didn't notify the others of where we were. I pulled out my compass next, noting on trees nearby where each direction was. It would be good to know in case we had to run. Slipping my sunglasses back into the bag, as they were of no use now, I took a seat down on another log, waiting for the others to arrive.

[gage has made a fire [took fire making] with his glasses]
[which Lulu allowed]

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credit to shrimp

all I need's a whisper in a world that only shouts

skylarversion2

guest

>I Am Skin & Bones< [Colan vs. Raphale] Jul 24, 2011 15:36:55 GMT -5

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Post by skylarversion2 on Jul 24, 2011 15:36:55 GMT -5

She still was wary of the situation. She'd nearly died. In fact, she thought she had died. She hadn't, of course, or else she wouldn't have been standing, panting and catching her breath. It was a wake up call. She'd practically been on a high horse since the beginning of the Games, even through the severed arm and attacks from the animals, but now that she had been on the ground squirming for some sort of help, for some sort of life, she realized just how quickly things could change. With the swing of a sword her other arm could be severed, and she'd be dead. She would have no means of defense, anybody that wanted to kill her would be able to do so.

After more minutes of walking, she'd found them. She'd heard another cannon as she walked, and feared that it was one of her alliance members, but it wasn't. Seaborgium, Aenor, and Gage all were alive, and miraculously Seah had gotten anti-venom, or else he would've already had a cannon. She seemed to go unnoticed, like she'd been there the whole time, and it slightly upset her. Aenor cried on a log, trying to hide it, and it reminded Soyala of the days prior, where all she did was tremble and shake and tell herself that she was already dead.

Gage consoled Aenor, and Soy felt jealous. There were two bodies on the ground, one of which had felt the wrath of the alliance that Soyala was in when they dominated the Bloodbath. the other was someone that had a familiar face, but a name could not follow. She wondered how long it would be until night came, because the hovercrafts that would take up the bodies would not come until then, and she was unsure of how she felt about them.

"Good job," she let out, conscious that Aenor didn't hear. She was the only one that hadn't killed, she needed to step up to the plate. She was slightly afraid that her alliance would turn on her on a dime if she didn't prove she was worth something. Gage allowed a moment to tell Seah and Soyala that hunting might be a good thing to do, and as much as she loved animals and the birds that flew overhead, she needed to impress them. "Sure. Seah, you can follow me, if you want."

And so off she went, striking at any movement in bushes. There was once where she got an eye on some sort of animal, but it was plump and she was sure that it was safe to eat. She hesitantly pondered on whether or not to strike, but she decided to anyway.

[dice=2]
[success! ]

And a small cry of pain signaled that she'd made a hit with her blade, making a large gash in the animal's side. It's brown fur was stained with red as the blood began to pour out, but she was both disappointed and delighted with herself. Delighted that she'd actually killed something, delighted that she'd be able to share something with her alliance, but disappointed that she'd did something she never wished to do, and she'd did it willingly.

But she had something to give, something to share, and with happiness, she picked up the animal's carcass and slung it over her right shoulder, a few drops of blood slinging across her freckly cheeks. Now if they could just find water.

ooc; okay so she's there now. she hunteddd.

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Last Edit: Jul 24, 2011 15:46:06 GMT -5 by skylarversion2

Nervoux
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"We plan. We get there. All hell breaks loose."

>I Am Skin & Bones< [Colan vs. Raphale] Jul 25, 2011 1:35:34 GMT -5

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Post by Nervoux on Jul 25, 2011 1:35:34 GMT -5

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I will not fall
Once more I'm called
Time comes for all
Then dark is whole
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Colan knew the end was coming. He could feel the life draining out of him with each rattled breath he took. He could see the energy that seemed to drip out of his every pore, mixing with the blood and sweat until it fell in a messy puddle on the ground. His legs began to give in beneath him, causing him to stumble forward and meet the blows that were constantly thrown at him, his hands barely moving up to protect himself. He was accepting the fact that death was drifting toward him, it's hands outstretched eagerly as it waited for him to fall into a heap on the ground.

Colan watched as Raphale's knife shot toward him, one thought popping into his head and telling him that this would be the last attack. Soon, everything would be over... if he would just let the knife cut into his flesh. Those thoughts were the reason why he simply stood there, his stance tall, despite all of the energy that had flowed out of him like an endless stream of water. His wounded legs stood a foot apart, his tortured gaze transfixed before him as he stared at nothing in particular. The cool metal that touched his right calf didn't surprise him. He was ready for the pain.

Red exploded into his gaze as the blade sunk deep into his calf, the feeling of it unberable as it flooded all of his senses. A ringing noise filled his ears as he collapsed onto his knees, the mace that he was holding falling with a clatter onto the wet earth. His blue gaze finally shut tightly as he felt every last drop of energu drain from his body, his mind playing tricks on him as he heard the sound of the last drop fall into a puddle of blood. With that last drop fell his whole body, scarlet liquid splashing up around him as his limp form crashed into it. The scarlet liquid stained his ripped clothes, the red lines traveling like snakes across his skin as they made their way to the puddle beneath his lifeless form. He knew the end was coming. The numbing of his pain told him that much.

Colan's eyes shut tightly as his mind seemed to go blank, leaving only the ringing in his ears and the faint throbbing of his heart as it worked frantically to try and save his life. He had a feeling, though, that it knew he was dying too. He could feel the way his heart began to slow, as if it too were giving up. Giving up seemed to be a constant thing that occured in his quiet mind. He went through most of his life accepting everything that was thrown at him, believing that somehow he deserved all of it. He deserved everything horrible that had happened to him, including the slow and painful death that he was beginning to experience.

Colan went through his whole life causing pain. From the days when he was actually social, his joking words directed toward the ones who he deemed below him. He spat at them coldly, laughing along with his friends as he left them crying in the dirt, believing that nothing was wrong with what he did. It was all just fun and games, wasn't it? That then moved onto the many jokes he played, one joke resulting in the death of the three most important things in his life. The deaths that caused so much pain and suffering to be inflicted into teir dying forms, his father's disbelieving face, and his own depressed shadow of his former self. He deserved all of the pain in the world.

The pain was not enough.

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But oh, my heart was flawed
I knew my weakness
So hold my hand
Subscribe me not to darkness
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

"I'm sorry, dad" he managed to choke, the words spilling out of his dry lips as fast as the blood that leaked from his wounds. The words were barely audible in the tense air, though he knew they could be heard. It pained him to think that he was causing more pain to his father, for he knew the old man was surely sitting before the TV, beginning to realize that he was all alone. Colan had left his father to fend fro himself with all of the animals, with only the fading memories of his son. "I stripped every loved one from your life, and I'm sorry. Everything is my fault." His voice was beginngin to grow quieter as his eyelids began to shut, darkness threatening to overcome his vision. "It's my fault," he whispered, tears beginning to spill down his scarred cheeks. He was dying.

But, if he was dying, why was he suddenly standing? Colan found himself standing just a foot away from his dying form, watching as the life drained out of him. He could hear his last words echoing inside the enclosures of his mind, his own voice being the only sound that he could hear. He watched as his own eyes began to shut, his scarred mouth remaining open as he attempted to speak the last words that managed to process in his mind. He could see the small smasms in his arms and legs as he fought to gain air, though none would come. He watched himself die.

Colan's form disappeared before his eyes, along with the rest of the violent landscape that surrounded his limp body. Replacing his dead form was Death. Death came in the form of many familiar faces, all jammed into one faded figure. Flashes of his family and friends flickered in the faded depths of it's cloaked face, each familiar face smiling wearily at him, as if they knew that soon he was about to join them wherever they were. The thought caused him to step forward and reach out, though they always seemed to be one step too far away. They simply stared at him, their hand gesturing toward the mist that lurked behind them like a shadow.

Colan stepped beside them, his eyes leaving their morhping faces as he focused on the mist before him, it's white edges seeming to move forward and wrap around him like tentacles. They pulled him into it, whispers filling his head; telling him that everything would be alright. The mist sent chills through his arms, though with it came a comforting feeling that all of the pain he had endured was soon to be forgotten; all of the memories of the battle left behind him in the blood-soaked landscape that had faded away. Instead, he was stepping into other memories, ones that he didn't even know still existed.

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I will not speak of your sin
There is a way out for him
The mirrior shows not
Your values are shot
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He was six years old, his vibrant blue eyes filled with joy as he ran out of his bedroom, his pajamas still clinging to his skinny form. His two sisters ran beside him, their hair flying out behind them in long waves as they seemed to fly through the halls. Colan snickered and pushed through them, his gaze flashing with amusement as he listened to their yells of protest.

"No fair! I called riding the horse first" Clarice yelled, her squeaky voice filling the air. Colan simply kept running, his lively gaze transfixed on the beautiful animal before him.

Colan stood beside his mother's bed, Clarice clutching onto his arm tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to see over the edge of the bed. Their eyes were lit with a large sense of wonder as they watched their mother cradle the newborn baby, her warm blue eyes filled with love as she gazed at the new creation. Their father stood with his hand on her shoulder, tears filling the corners of his eyes.

"Colan, Clarice. Meet your new baby sister, Edala."

Colan was ten, a mischevious glint contained in his blue gaze as he tied the rope loosely around a door knob to the barn, snickers emitting from him continuously. His amused gaze lifted up to the bucket filled with freezing water that was tied to the other end, the bottom of it barely able to stay on the frame of the door. He could hear footsteps coming toward the door, and he knew his joke was about to payoff. He quietly dashed away from the wooden door, watching as the knob turned and the bucket was sent toppling down, sending water all over Edala.

"Mom! Cole played another joke on me!" she cried, her footsteps heard leaving the barn as she ran.

Colan walked down the steps of his old house, his gaze barely sweeping over the animals that stood grazing in the large field. "Cole, please stay and play with us!" his sisters begged him, following him down the cracked sidewalk. His eyes simply rolled in their sockets as he kept walking, his gaze tranfixed on his friends that stood waiting for him. His sisters could wait.

He was fourteen, the same mischevious glint contained deep within the depths of his stormy-blue eyes. A devious smirk was etched clearly across his tanned lips as his placed the stick he was holding in the bonfire. Flames reflected in his gaze as he stood, waving the stick above his head, feeding off of the laughs that emitted from his friends. Soon, they were joining him.

They laughed as they danced around the bonfire, screeching and laughing like wild animals as they waved the fire around. Sparks were flying everywhere from the waving sticks, the orange flames suddenly erupting from the roof of the barn. Colan's eyes widened in terror as he felt the warmth touch his cheek, his stick dropping onto the ground before him.

"Run!" His friends were already fleeing from the scene, their footsteps barely audible as they sprinted for the safety of their homes. Colan stood still, though, listening to the new sound that had erupted from the disaster: Screams. The sound of his sisters calling for help split into the air, the sound bouncing and echoing in his mind. He closed his eyes shut as he tried to shut them out, though he didn't shut them in time to block out the scene of his mother racing into the barn to save her daughters. He was going to get into so much trouble when she emerged from the barn. And so, he ran. Ran like the coward he truly was.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
But oh, my heart was flawed
I knew my weakness
So hold my hand
Subscribe me not to darkness
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The images were beginning to fade away, leaving tears spilling down his now-clean face. The salty-liquid trailed down his face, curving around the tortured tightening of his lips. He was on his hands and knees, his eyes shut as he tried to block the images from his mind; trying to force the sound of his sisters' lively voices begging him to play with them for just a few sort minutes. Back then itseemed like the worst thing to do... but now, he would give nothing more then to turn around and play with them for the rest of the day.

The mist was beginning to transform into the figures of three people, the people he missed most. They walked toward him, their hands resting on his hunched back that was trembling with sobs of guilt. "It's okay, my son." The quiet and peaceful voice filled Colan's ears like a silent whisper, though it was loud enough to send him jolting up from his tight position. His weary eyes landed on the clear face of his mother, her blue eyes shining back at him with warmth. The sight caused him to stop in his tracks, his hand slowly reaching out to touch her face to make sure the sight he was seeing was real. But of course, his hand passed right through.

"Join us Cole, it's not so bad" Edala whispered, her tiny face staring up at him with the same look of awe that she always held. Her blonde hair was still the same length as when she had died, her golden locks sweeping down to her waist delicately. She was beautiful. Clarice stood beside her, her quiet and shy expression showing through like it used to. "We don't blame you, Colan. It was an accident." As always, they were the words he wanted to hear.

It then dawned on Colan how stupid he had been all of those years. The many years of shutting himself away from the world, believing that he deserved all of the pain in the world. His dying thoughts were even about how death wasn't even enough to forgive what he had done. His last words to his father were about how much guilt he felt. The simple words of a loved one, though, could send all fo those horrible and melancholy thoughts away. Forgiveness. The simple emotion was all he needed to clear all of the pain that had been gnawing away at his insides. If only he had opened himself up earlier and allowed that forgiveness to enter. Maybe he wouldn't be dying if he had done those few things.

Colan stepped forward with a light smile, the emotion highlighting his face for the first time. He watched as they stepped throug the door that had appeared moments earlier, their welcoming whispers still echoing in his ears even as they drifted away, waiting for him to accept that he had died. It was time for him to leave the life that he had lived and begin a new one, one that sent fear rushing through him. Fear of what was to come. But somehow, he knew everything was going to be alright. And with that last thought, Colan stepped through the doorway, into the warm embrace of Death.

The cannon split into the air, signaling that Colan Raftor had died.

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And I fall short
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