| §uckle on the Hope |

ooc: just don't read this. It's terrible.

Feet painfully stab the ground as you rush from behind the group - your high heeled shoes, while rather alluring and intriguing, do nothing to help one find a girl who you're rather partial to. Right now they're lost somewhere in the scenery, for you've thrown them to the side without looking as to where it is. Your feet ache, but that is nothing compared to what Amadi is probably facing. The small group that you're in dashes onwards, shouts of "Amadi!" filling the air. Your heartbeat's faster than a jackrabbit - she could be dead, dying, long gone, decomposing, and you have no idea about her whereabouts.

"Amadi!" You shout, a voise hoarse from usage resonating in the surrounding area. Who could have done this - who could have murdered all of those people, and put Amadi in who-knows where? That person would have had to be messed up in the head. Perhaps it was the ex-victor, Annalise Chambers, rumored to be dead in the fire. What if she had escaped? Or maybe it was Nil Rosewood, the girl sour-attitude and the vocabulary of a lowy District 4 sailor. Possibly, it was even Lucan, or Gabby, or all-too-jealous Evelyn.

Then there's a scream, and your heart seems to stop for a minute. Was that the last thing she would ever do? You dash blindly forwards, yelling "Amadi, where are you!?" before turning back around to notice Lucan. He's just... Shocked is the best word you can give for it, because he doesn't seem to be able to do all that much. But Amadi could be dead, and he's just standing there. You rationalize that he needs to suck it up and find her, and as his best friend for who-knows-how-long you know that you're one of the only ones who can do it. You run back.

"Lucan, come on. We have to save her," you grab his hand, pulling him forwards, continuing wit "She's your sister. You have to help her." Running ahead, you can't help but think that you're too late, that she's already gone. But goddammit, you have to save her, even if you risk your own life in the process.

MAYSON ALLISTAIR SLADE
AB2020 - A55D5D - 927979

-------------------------------------------------------------


Running had always been a fairly strong skill I had. One of the fastest in my group of friends, I jumped at the chance to either show it off or to actually do it. Every morning before work was when I'd follow the carefully selected path with a brisk jog, turning into a full out sprint at parts. Lucan had passed by me on one of the days. That's how we had met. Passing by each other on our ways to living our lives, never bothering to actually learn more about the other. Once. We had a drink together once. Yet, he still invited me, asking me to come along and see him get married to a beautiful, young girl. Maybe I was just stressed and that's why suspicions were running through my mind as I saw the groom sprint ahead of me, pulling Qilena along. What reason would he have for bringing me along to this wedding gone wrong if we barely even knew each other? I didn't even know his name for the longest time.

It was hard to believe the man could do this to everybody. These were people who were close to him and Ev. He wouldn't have been capable of ending their lives so viciously, like the murders were. I would've been able to say that Lucan was harmless even when we only exchanged casual greetings. And after getting to know him personally — which was a term that didn't quite describe how well they had gotten to know each other — it was hard to see Lucan as a murderer. That's why I quickly dismissed the thought, picking up speed to catch up with Lucan. I was still determined to help Amadi. I had to be. The feelings I had for her, however small or large they might be, wouldn't let me just sit around and hope that somebody could save her. Qilena, Gabby, Lucan and I cared about Amadi more than anything else. Even if we fought between ourselves, we still all loved Amadi. That's all we needed to save her and keep it together.

Finally, we arrived at the location of the scream. It was a rusted sewer like area. And underneath the grate was that girl. The girl that we all wanted on our side of the drain's top. I made my way up to the drain, noticing the water that was pouring in. My fingers wrapped around it and I looked up at Lucan, hoping he'd help with getting it off. But instead, he stood frozen on the spot, looking into the drain at something. That's when I noticed the pictures of a violent scene. Almost as violent as the stuff we had already seen. Fine, don't help me. Moving my leg close, I shot a kick towards the bolt, hoping that my boots would be enough to do the trick. One wasn't enough though. It was definitely rusted and close to a breaking point but it barely budged. Another kick didn't help either. And after two more, it still hadn't changed.

I took a step back, noticing the rock off to the distance, so I quickly grabbed it and made my way back. "We're going to get you out of there Amadi. I swear." I nearly shout, hoping she can hear me over the sounds of the running water. The rock smashes against the bolt as I swing my arm down, a loud metallic ring sounding. Again, it came down, this time stronger as the adrenaline was building. Anger seemed to play a part as he clubbed the bolt one last time, hearing it snap open. My available hand grabbed on to the top, throwing it open and allowing anybody else quick access to Amadi. My position wasn't exactly the best, but I reached down anyways and still couldn't reach. So I took a step back, hoping that somebody would get in there as soon as possible. But we weren't safe yet. The killer could still be around. And that was something we needed to watch out for. Or else one of us would be the next one.


[[ooc; bad post is bad. anyways, I PMed Cameron saying Mayson would open it. never got a response. so if that's not alright, I'll change it. but yeah. :3]]

His heart was racing faster than he had ever felt it before, the pounding of a drum ratt-a-tatting against his chest like the little drummer boy. He couldn't think, move, speak, process, breathe, and all he wanted to do was to run to Amadi and rip that photo to shreds, wanted to hold it under the water and let the monotonous colors bleed into the rushing liquid like so many members of his wedding party had already done. But he couldn't budge; the desire to go to his sister's side, caress her and hold her and protect her forever was overridden by the cinder blocks that had suddenly grew out from the soles of his feet like an oak tree sprouting out of the ground. His body was nailed to that spot, hardened and stony, frozen solid, and his mind wandered aimlessly throughout the many nooks and crevices within his brain, while nothing worthwhile—or, more than likely, nothing at all—appeared to him to persuade him to assist his sister as she was being rescued.

After a few brief moments of sedation, the glaze wore away from his eyes and he recognized his lovely twin before him. However, in the amount of time it had taken the concrete to spread through his legs and cause his body to become too painfully heavy to as much as inch forward, the scene had changed drastically and Amadi and her best friend—that creepy vampiric chick that always gave him the most maniacal and menacing death glares he had ever witnessed—were hanging on for dear life on the edge of the hole, rushing water flooding around them. Shattering the cinder blocks into thousands of little pieces, his body instinctively pushed forward and he stumbled right toward the hole.

"AMADI!" his voice rang out loud enough to leave an echo around the island, even though he had already reached his sister's arm—the one Gabby wasn't holding up—and hauled her up to him. Lucan didn't give Gabby the slightest glance as he gazed into Amadi's eyes. His hands were caressing her soft, velvety skin like he never had before. The moment they were sharing was currently as intimate as most of their sexual activities had been, which hurt Lucan a small bit seeing as his feelings for Amadi had always been greater than he could ever explain. With her smooth face in his firm hands, Lucan pulled his twin into him and their lips met, his mouth open and intertwining passionately, and it seemed to last for forever. Physically, the kiss took approximately eight seconds, but mentally and emotionally they were together and he had been in that moment for hours. The boy never thought he'd stop, didn't even care that his fiancee was behind him, glaring at him most likely, but he didn't care whatsoever that he was cheating on her. He was happy, and that's how he'd always be now—and that was when he pushed a little too far towards his lover, causing him to tumble over her and crash into the water below with a large and satisfying splash.

Pictures can tell a thousand words - that's what they always say at least. And Qilena knows this, of course. Her paranoid and skeptical mind almost never comes to believe something is true unless she can see it with her own eyes. In this way, pictures are truly all that she can trust - everything else can be warped, convoluted to create something abnormal and untrue. Images are forever. So when she hears the screams that they've found Amadi, she can scarcely believe it until she pushes her way to the front, letting go of Lucan's hand as he grabs for his sister. She barely notices Gabby holding on with all her might - all her eyes can see is Amadi, safe yet in complete danger from the waters surrounding her. But then something else catches her eye.

Bits of paper, floating down the river. There's images coated on it as well, and Qilena's eyes widen as the notices the blood and empty-glazed eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Hale. She can't comprehend it - why would there be pictures of the two adults in the watery depths, their corpses lying on the floor, the color running out into the liquid? She's never seen these images before; she had been away at the orphanage at that time that the lives of the two adults that she actually liked ended. And now, seeing the two who acted as her own parents all of those years, dead in those pictures, is giving her quite a shock. She feels sick to her stomach, and she can barely hold back the few remainders of whatever-the-hell she ate that day from being tossed out of the body.

How did they take those pictures? Why would they take those pictures? The people (or person) who was sick enough to do these kinds of actions were disgusting and she could scarcely believe that they would be able to stomach the cold-blooded murder of others (never mind that she herself was an avid Career throughout her reaping age - this was different, obviously. After all, in the games, one is destined to die unless they kill. Outside, one is just insane). It wasn't right, it wasn't just. And the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Hale is the epitome of unjustified murder. They were the sweetest people she had ever met, besides Lucan and Amadi of course, and their deaths had shook her, Lucan's and Amadi's world forever. No longer would there be grown-ups to comfort them. Lucan and Amadi would have each other, and Qilena would only barely fit into the circle.

Most of the time she would be stuck in the orphanage, washing pans and sweeping floors and getting locked in the closed for breaking something. Or she'd be dancing her heart out when she was old enough to finally make it into the elusive nightlife scene, not caring who she was with or who she had flirted with (incoherency was bliss in those days, filled with alcohol and drugs and so much sex. It was her way of coping (it still is) with all of her problems, but is wasn't like she could use Lucan for that - he always had enough to worry about, with taking care of shell-shocked Amadi and all of that, and venting to him would only occur when the two of them were alone, sitting along the docks at nightfall or walking along the beach during midday. And that barely happened, with him working so hard to make a living for himself. She on the other hand, had lived the extravagant life of being doted on hand-and-foot, catching the eye of a few passerby, days filled with toobright lights and toopainful days.

She never did need him - she had her twisted dark life of her own to take care of. And she still does, which is why she finds it extremely strange that she simply wants to break down and sob in his arms, wishing that she could go home, that he could go home - that he had never decided to get married to the blond wrench so they could have all lived happily ever after, instead of being picked off one-by-one. The only thing she can do is back up when Lucan drags Amadi onto the ground, her golden-locks all muddy and flat against her head, her mouth plastered to his-

Her look of distaste is masked by one of surprise. She would never expect him to go that way, nor would she expect her to recuperate it. Of course, Amadi is always a step-up from Evelyn Mardonne, but it's a bit disappointing to her; the bad girl who's always had a thing for the doe-eyed blond is going to have to wait for Lucan Hale, Amadi's brother to be finished with her, and clearly, he never will be. For a moment she's hurt, even though she knows that Lucan doesn't know about her crush, nor does he even realize that the consequences for his actions would be even worse than what he expected (she knows Lucan - knows that sometimes he needs to get his pants into the nearest person available. Except for her of course; he alone knows her secret that's only-somewhat-blatantly hiding in the shadows and corners of the dusty room in which she's been locked in for years and years). But Qilena knows. Qilena knows much more than what people would think of the "dirty drunk tramp" that wanders the clubs like a python looking for its prey.

She knows that he'll never be looked at the same again, she'll know that the ditzy fiancee will never forget the hurt in her heart as he kissed his own sister. She knows that it was a really really bad idea. But this is Lucan Hale - he doesn't care about that. He's all emotionfeelingssensesrightnow rather than thinkofthefutureoryouwillsuffer. Her best friend's actions and thoughts are more familiar to her than he realizes, and this (and the fact that she's still reeling from pictures of blood and sightless eyes and deathly grey skin) is the reason that she doesn't chastise him in front of this entire group, whose disapproving eyes and confused auras dominate this scene. Time right now is of the essence, and it's imperative that the group escape rightnowrightawayassoonaspossible or they'll all be lying on the ground in the same state as Lucan's and Amadi's parents are in - dead. Eyes shift left and right, in case she can sight a glimpse of the man or woman who did this to her his Amadi, but nobody is discernible amidst the fog and shadows that make the forest more eerie than charming in this time of night.

And then with a splash, he's gone, splashing and flailing in the murky depths that he had pulled his (sister lover platonic friend - they all merge together as of right now) Amadi from. Mayson is already at the ready, holding his hand out for the man to grab, and Gabby is with Amadi (sort of - she seems to not be all there, as if she's stuck in a never ending nightmare that only results in fates worse than death), and Evelyn is... Not here. Silently, she rouses herself from the trance that she's entrapped herself into, looks once more at Mayson, mumbling something about "Finding the blond tramp," and stalks off in the opposite direction, going back the way that the group came upon Amadi. She can't believe that Evelyn is so heartless that she would decide not to look for her future-sister in law. Qilena knows that the girl is ditzy - did she even notice Paisley dangling dead from the chandelier? - but not this cold. Death is not something to turn your back towards. Rather, one needs to face it head on and hope for the best, hope that the person that needs saving will recieve it, and that everyone comes out alright and ready for the next hurdle.

One does not simply walk away when faced with the death of another. And with this thought, she blatantly ignores her Hunger Games side of life and walks on and on, occasionally calling out Evelyn's name in vain hopes for a sight of blond hair glowing in the moonlight. But the night is young, and she finds herself searching for a good few minutes before she trips and lands with a thud, hands stained with some sticky substance that smells pungent with iron...

The scream pierces the air quickly, the shrill cry echoing for what seems like eternity until it cuts off with gasps and the softer sounds of vomiting.