{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3]

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arx!!
Retired Staff

2,484 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 22, 2024 19:23:46 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3] Oct 16, 2012 23:11:23 GMT -5

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Post by arx!! on Oct 16, 2012 23:11:23 GMT -5

۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵

Thinking smart but I'm acting dumb
So come on tell me, which side has won?
Just one message before my head explodes
You can't win the losing battle, didn't you know

Run, run, run. My feet beat against the sand, spraying tiny flecks of it into the air behind me, leaving tiny footprints to wash away beneath the waves of the sea. I thought I would be able to hear the ocean or the laughter from my kings, but instead I can only hear the sound of my heart, beating wildly inside me. Thump, thump, thump. Everything slows to a near stop. The sun stops moving across the sky, every sound becomes a dull buzz, and I can feel nothing but sticky air moving through my hair and in my ears. At this moment, even though I know I am frightened, I have the urge to spread my arms and soar. Fly, fly, fly. I hear my brothers screaming at me, my feet dangling from a window ledge, my arms spread across the sky, the crisp fall breeze ruffling my hair. I smell an apple pie that the neighbors are making. I hear a rat rustling through a garbage can. I can see for miles and miles over the rooftops of District 6. I can see the many birds soaring through the clouds. "I betcha I could fly."

"Jump, Naveen, jump!!"

I was 8 then. I was just 8 years old when I discovered that I couldn't fly. That I would never be able to fly away with the birds that played in the clouds. Make me a bird so I can fly, far, far away. I broke my heel that day. I jumped from the window ledge, flapped my arms frantically, trying to chase the birds, trying to prove to my brothers that I could really, truly fly. But instead, I ended up in the hospital, and my parents ended up with a bill that was way too big. "What were you thinking Naveen!?"

"I just wanted to fly away. To go away with the birds."

I spread my arms out and smile. Who could stop me from flying now? Gravity? Today, I know no such thing. Bubbles seem to be popping inside me, make me feel tingly all over, making me giggle aloud every time I feel the burst of one inside me. Float me away, like a bubble on the breeze.

"Navy, darling, you can't fly. Nor will you ever be able to."

My eyes fly open, my feet slow, and my arms drop back to my sides. "Yes, I can. Everyone has to fly to heaven sometime, dad."

"No, Naveen. Humans can't fly. And who told you there was a heaven?"

And that is when everything rushes back to me. Sound comes in a whoosh of terror. Screaming, squawking, and the roar of the sea. Time comes unpaused and motion returns to everything around me. And I hear someone following me. Footsteps that pound heavily into the sand. I turn and watch as they come closer. Leave me alone. Go away. Die. I point my weapon at them, a threat to stay away. I don't want to talk to these people. I don't want them near me. I know them, but don't care. They helped me live and get away from ~~Ron and Hermione~~ Guy and Mason but they she killed ~~Harry~~ Theseus. No. No, she killed Guy at the Cornucopia. She killed him.

I pick Guy's laurel out of the pile and let myself move forward, no weapon in hand. Only a silver laurel, sparkling with small crystals from the sand. I take the laurel from Phyllis' head and place Guy's upon her instead. It is her crown rightfully isn't it? I drop her laurel at her feet, and slowly walk back to my supplies. The queen seeks revenge. The queen will always seek revenge. I ignore the naked boy, ignore the other, and sit down in the sand, looking out over the sea, the rolling waves reminding me making my bed - the way the satin covers roll over eachother. I could sleep in the sea. Under it's satin cover. So if I can't fly, let me swim.

If I can't soar, let me drown.

"You can't kill me. I'm already dead."

Crumbling down into a mess
I've got too many problems that tell me I'm less
Than the good God who watches above
Who'll damn you to hell and then tell you to love
Tell you to love

۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵

Last Edit: Oct 17, 2012 17:02:28 GMT -5 by arx!!

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

SinInChaos
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195 POSTS
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Like a sir, bitch!

{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3] Oct 17, 2012 13:17:45 GMT -5

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Post by SinInChaos on Oct 17, 2012 13:17:45 GMT -5

I am your Demon
Hear me Roar

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My heart beats faster and faster the more I kick back the sand, listening to the waves crash against the land. The is the world we live in now. Forced to fight one another and kill until there is only one left. And what do we do while there is only one left? We congratulate them for living. We treasure them and cater to those needs each and every day. Feed them for killing twenty-three other kids. And I’m okay with that because I’ve focused to that point. Agreed that the only way to live in this world is to kill or be killed. I’ve been changed to this machine And I give them this machine to use as they please. The tributes will soon be down and I will be left, the conquering king on my throne of rotting corpses. Wearing my crown.

My head shifts to the left and I look more upward. I can only hope that Remie will forgive me for all the wrongs I’ve done. She would probably thank me for doing what I could, since it never mattered to her who the victor was. Remie just wanted a brother who could try. And I do try. Am I a good little brother then, doing what is asked for me? She would pet me on the head and I would smile up at her. Maybe even let out a small, childish giggle. How bright the day would be.

Now my head shifts right, looking down on the ground. I can feel my mouth straighten, harden to a point of horror. I don’t need her approval, or the approval of the other tributes. I’ll do what I want and what I can to win these games, and eventually I will have to kill that girl. Maybe even Remie will tell me when to take her out. Remie’s always wise like that. She’s done so many things and would help out her younger brother. She couldn’t bear to watch him die. That’s why Remie was here not. And I knew she was the only person I could trust. How funny it was to only trust a person who was dead.

My head centers. What just happened?

"You can't kill me. I'm already dead." The girl has spoken. I had almost not noticed her before us.

I clutch at myself, my head trying to turn this way and that. I want it to center, not go off toward such strange thoughts. I’m myself, no one else. I remember asking this, the night in the Training Center. When was I having these problems where I couldn’t figure out. But not this girl seems to have lost it all. If she were really dead inside then why hasn’t she taken her own life? She’s fighting for someone. I’m not sure who, but that’s why she had to be standing. Someone back at home or maybe even someone who was…Dead. Who she was fighting for is dead. So she is dead inside, but is still here. Then she must still be here for them.

“I can do as I damn well please, understand?” I twirl my spear and look at Remie who is standing next to the girl. Remie seems to be smiling, mouthing words still. I can’t understand. I don’t want to understand. “You have to understand me though, or else you’re in for some trouble gal.”

My head tilts to the left, I look up toward the girl with a childish smile. “Besides, Remie wants me to save you. I have to be a good little brother.” I’m her brother, ~~Lydie~~Remie’s, and I’d do what my sister needed. Anything for her.

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Credit to Charity

mcmarti99

guest

{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3] Oct 17, 2012 19:56:13 GMT -5

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Post by mcmarti99 on Oct 17, 2012 19:56:13 GMT -5

I want to run, I want to hide,
I want to tear out the walls that hold me inside

The sandals binding Phyllis’s feet had given her enough trouble over the past four days, and she was pretty near tossing them at the forest beyond the beach. But that would take time, time she didn’t feel she had right now. She did however, needed to shed these bruise-causing monsters before they tore her feet apart. Taking a quick pause to yank them off, the clinked together as Phyllis ran after Damion. She felt like a child, but it was in her best interest to trust Damion. He had gotten her this far.. The sand slid out from under her bare feet, and it took all she had to stay upright and moving. Phyllis wasn’t a fast runner, only when her life might be in jeopardy. And right now, it might have very well been. The moist air was suffocating. It clung to Phyllis’ lungs like dust to wood, and just alike, as time progressed, the thickness in her lungs became uglier and uglier. She fought the urge to settle into the sand that caused her to slip and her pace to slow, even though the effort was just as much as sprinting on flat land. Thankfully, Damion and the girl had stopped, and Phyllis caught up to them just in time.

Just as Phyllis approached, the girl stooped down to her supplies. Picking out a laurel identical to Phyllis’ she made a move towards her. Phyllis froze in fear.

Would I do this if it were a real threat? But before she had time to think on it more, her laurel was taken from her head and replaced with the one from the girls pack. She couldn’t process what had just happened, but Phyllis bent down as the girl settled next to her supplies and picked up her own laurel. Then it hit her. This girl.. she was from six. This girl, was in the man she’d killed at the cornucopia’s alliance. Phyllis had attacked every person in that alliance, besides this girl. She fell to her knees in despair. It was almost ridiculous because she had lost an ally, but she’d tried to forget about it. And now, she was in so much pain for this girl. Her whole alliance was dead. And it was partly Phyllis’ fault. Guilt panged in her stomach. When the spear jabbed into that man’s eye.. she didn’t even want to think about it. And she hadn’t. At the moment, she discarded the fact that she just killed someone, while her fellow tributes adored the sensation. When she ~~killed~~ help killed the mutt, it wasn’t a person, with speakable feelings and emotions. That, she had to admit, she enjoyed, but killing a person… she hadn’t. Even contributing to kill a person made it feel like her stomach was opening and her guts were spilling into the sand. She held her stomach in an attempt to make the feeling go away, but with each sniffle, the feeling returned. Phyllis slowly lifted her hand from her stomach and grabbed the laurel from her head. She placed it in the sand next to hers. They were identical, but she would never forget which one belonged to the man she killed.

The image of Phyllis’ allies before her is blurred, but she can make out Damion by the redness of his skin, which he still hadn’t washed away. She could also make out the girl, in the same emotional state she was. The two exchanged words, the girl’s more broken, and Damion’s more aggressive. Phyllis had always thought he had an aggressive voice. She stood, trying to stand as tall as she could and retrieved the laurels at her feet. Making her way over to the girl, she wiped the last of her tears from her bloodshot eyes. She would not sleep tonight if she couldn’t do this. Phyllis set the laurel that belonged to Guy in the girls hands, still keeping a hold on it. She crouched down next to her and they held the laurel together. Tears sprung from Phyllis’ eyes and she let her head drop so it was resting on her knee. She could only mutter one thing.

“I’m so sorry.”[/b][/size]

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I want to reach out and touch the flame
Where the streets have no name

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aquatic mammalian wh0re
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{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3] Oct 17, 2012 21:32:39 GMT -5

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Post by aquatic mammalian wh0re on Oct 17, 2012 21:32:39 GMT -5

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My eyes drift open and are greeted with the harsh light of the midday sun. Why is it that I feel like my eyes have been shut for ages now? As I stare past the sun now, I realize how lucky I am. We got away from the mutt. We made it to this beach, a large body of water, onto the warm sand. Alive. We're alive. I must look dead though, lying here on my back atop the bloodied sand. I curl my fingers around the soft, grainy sand below them, testing myself. As if I doubt that this is even real.

I turn my stinging eyes away from the sun now, and the bloodied shapes of my allies come into focus. They look weak, mentally damaged, all but dead in this forsaken arena. Oh, how I wish I were dead. Phyllis is with the girl - so she did make it out alive - and Damion seems completely out of it. There's something off about him. I hadn't really acknowledged it until now, but I can just tell that something inside his head doesn't tick right. But who am I to speak? I haven't led a completely sane life. And now I'm tethered to a girl from District 3, whose life I truly cannot guarantee. I don't know who to save. I'm not sure what the right choice is anymore.

Sitting up slowly, my eyes immediately drift over to Phyllis. It would take all my energy to pull up some kind of sorrow or positivity to comfort her right now. I could just watch from the sidelines - I'm in pain too, right? But if I want to keep up the show, if I want us to look good, I'll go and I'll make her happy, make the viewers happy. Well, whatever happiness is possible in the arena.

"Phyllis," I say hoarsely, half dragging myself past the new girl and towards Phyllis's humbled form. Blood and dirt blot out her features, but the delicate face I've begun to appreciate is still there. Tears streak white lines over her coated cheeks. Without thinking about it, I raise my hand to her face and push the matted hair behind her ear. I'd kiss her, but something tells me it's the wrong time. All these hurt feelings are enough. She doesn't need to be reminded of the relationship she will be forced out of at some point in the next few weeks.

I feel the burn of eyes digging into my back, where the sun and wind sneak through the slashes in my toga. Awkwardly, I rise onto my feet and tear my eyes away from Phyllis. At this point, our survival seems much more crucial than the love act. And while the sun isn't too unrelenting right now, I know that we'll die of dehydration if we don't drink something soon. A fire is easy; I have a small supply of firewood shoved in my empty bag, and if I remember correctly, Damion has some as well.

I neatly make two piles for the fires from the wood Damion and I had collected. I don't even bother asking about it. He must know what I'm doing and why. Besides, I'm the best fire-starter here, and everyone else seems mentally incapacitated at the moment.

Two small fires are blazing in front of me in no time. I'm not worried about people seeing the smoke, because it's broad daylight and there's plenty of space to run if we need to. At least we'll be running with quenched mouths. What am I saying? One more crazy fight and we're done for.

I look up at Damion. Even now, in his loopy state, I still automatically look to him as a leader. Letting him take charge is much easier than trying to do so myself. All I need is to be told what to do and I'll try to keep us all alive just as much as the rest of them are. Then again, he hasn't been telling me what to do at all. Maybe letting him lead will mean he dies first...

I shake the thought from my head. No, I need Damion. We all need each other right now. Why else would I be turning to him right now? "Damion," I say, hoping he's not as zoned out as he looks. "We need water. Now." Something inside me worries that he's going to stop caring and abandon us. Why have I started to care for once in my life? It would be so much easier if I just let nature take its course and bring along my death. I wouldn't have to worry about Damion or Phyllis. I wouldn't be trying to fill this gap inside me, or trying to decide whether death is the better option. I need to forget about it all and let myself die. For Phyllis, then. Let her go home. Let me die for her. She'll be fine without me, really. I won't do her any good anyways.

What is wrong with me?

Last Edit: Oct 17, 2012 21:33:36 GMT -5 by aquatic mammalian wh0re

arx!!
Retired Staff

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last seen Nov 22, 2024 19:23:46 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3] Oct 18, 2012 19:44:19 GMT -5

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Post by arx!! on Oct 18, 2012 19:44:19 GMT -5

۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵

Thinking smart but I'm acting dumb
So come on tell me, which side has won?
Just one message before my head explodes
You can't win the losing battle, didn't you know

“I can do as I damn well please, understand?”

Yes daddy, I know, I know - I'm sorry, sorry, sorry.

The water is lapping at my feet as I look out on the horizon. I wonder if the the sea ever ends or if it just goes on for forever and ever and ever. I want to build a boat and sail away. I did used to be a captain, manning a fine looking ship in the back alleys, my brothers my being my loyal shipmates. They always fought over who got to be my first-mate and who had to swab the deck. "I'm her first mate!! Nuh-uh, you gotta clean the deck!!" But because I had never actually tasted sea water, I never really understood the point of being a boat captain. Smell of fish all day? Nothing to look at but water? Rocking back and forth and back again for days and days? No thanks. Captaining a dumpster with a toilet paper roll for a spyglass and a newspaper for a hat was enough for me. But I think I understand what the captains actually look for everyday. It's not fish. Not land. Not home. Not unspeakable riches. They are looking for the edge. They are searching for the end.

I know the boy speaks, but my ears do not listen. I know I should be scared of him - of all three of them - but I couldn't care less if they came and sliced my throat at this moment, or stabbed me in the eye, or jabbed a spear straight through my heart. Because my throat has already been sliced - I have already lost my voice. Because my eye has already been stabbed - I have already looked death straight in the eyes. Because my heart has already been jabbed through. I have already had it shattered to a million pieces. I hold in my tears because I do not want to cry in front of these people. Because I don't want them to see my weakness. Because I can't stand to let anyone know my story - not even a dying boy who looked me straight in the eyes as he died, unafraid, even when I told him to close his eyes so I could run away.

Run away - not because I didn't want to see him die, not because I couldn't stand the sight of so much blood, but because in that moment I was weak. Because if I hadn't left, he may have learned my entire story. And that is unacceptable. "And don't you dare tell anyone - understand girl?" I nod at the words ~~the memory~~ inside my head.

I will never tell.

I feel someone in front of me, it's the girl. Phyllis Roman, District 3. Guy's laurel presses against my palm, digging into the spaces where it had torn my skin and made me bleed before. I see her eyes well wit tears. She has cuts everywhere. Her blood stains the sand. "I'm so sorry." I see the words leave her mouth but I taste them on my tongue. From long ago, in a cramped room, two small boys sleeping within. It smells musty, maybe a bit unpleasant to some, but it smells like home to me. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, I can hear my mom laughing in the bedroom next to me - laughing with my dad. My real dad. I look from one little boy to the next. Drool running down onto one's pillow, his blonde hair sticking out against the dark of the night. And the other, sweat on his brow, one leg under the covers, the other hanging off the edge of the bed. I walk to each one, silently so they don't wake up, and kiss their foreheads. I stop just before I leave the room, a pack of clothes on my back, my pillow, and some bread. I don't want to leave without them - but I have to. "I'm so sorry.

And I know she is sorry. And I want to forgive her. But as everyone knows, the world doesn't work that way. Hatred will always be there - there always needs to be someone to blame for your own miseries. And this girl, this oh so sorry girl, is one of the five I will always blame. And I want to tell her that I'm sorry I can't ever forgive her, but instead I ignore her entirely, and push away Guy's laurel. I don't want the guilt on me anymore - it's hers now. Two more lay in the sand next to me. The queen still has two more gifts to deliver to the poor peasants of her kingdom. The other boy, not Damion Winters, District 10, but Riker Mills, District 5 comes to comfort Phyllis. He brushes his hand across her face.

My hand strokes his face, my eyes hold his gaze, the taste of his blood is on my lips. And then I whisper in his ear, "Close your eyes for me Theseus." And then I whisper in the other, "Dream of me with you."

Why didn't you bring me with you? Why didn't you bring me to your dreams?

The sun has started to sink in the sky by the time I decide to look up from the horizon line. Theseus, the dead angel, lays beside me so I let my hand stroke his face again. And although I have to admit that the feeling of his face now isn't at all as nice as it had been before, being able to see and feel him again is a sort of relief. I hear the crackle of wood, see the glow of a fire, and smell the smoke that signals burnt wood. And because I'm so close to the sea, so close to a fire that is hotter than hot, I suddenly realize how thirsty I am.

And when a queen is thirsty, all the fools scramble to fetch her a glass.

{OOC:[Yeah, she gets a parachute with empty water bottle attached <3]
[Fills the jug with water]}

"Since none of you have killed me yet, I suppose you wouldn't mind letting me boil some water."

{OOC:[Boils water]
[Drinks water]
[Refills water jug]
[Boils water again]}

Crumbling down into a mess
I've got too many problems that tell me I'm less
Than the good God who watches above
Who'll damn you to hell and then tell you to love
Tell you to love

۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵

Last Edit: Oct 19, 2012 16:39:59 GMT -5 by arx!!

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

SinInChaos
Merchant

195 POSTS
last seen Dec 29, 2012 23:10:22 GMT -5

Like a sir, bitch!

{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3] Oct 19, 2012 22:10:52 GMT -5

Quote

Post by SinInChaos on Oct 19, 2012 22:10:52 GMT -5

I am your Demon
Hear me Roar

[/color][/size][/font]

I don't even know what to think of these two at the moment, showing such weakness and lack of brevity when we're in front of a foe. Or is she a foe? My head sways this way and that thinking of whether the Remie wants me to help the poor gal or kill her for just standing before me. I want to help her because Remie wants to help her... but... Remie could just be telling me to kill her. She never really spoke, like she hadn't on the television. That damn silence still haunts me to this very moment. Her lips, her voice, all nothing but an illusion. It was as though she had no mode for speech, but instead something that made people think she did. Did I always imagine her voice? But I remember the stories so well...

My face lifts up and turns toward the left.

Remie, what do you want of me with this girl? She is someone I need to worry about, since Remie wants me to. She is what makes me speak and do as I do, the actions all derive from her. Remie, my big sister Remie. I love you... I smile, looking at her face in the sky. Is it in the sky? The clouds seem to form her exact figure, from the curve in her cheeks to the size of her eyes. She is my sister, and mine alone. I would never let the boy from ten touch her again. Not like he did before.

But I am the boy from ten.

My head hangs down, toward the right. My dirtied and bloodied hair has covered my face, but I can still see the figures before me. All imbeciles in the eyes of a victor. Crying after killing someone. You should stand proud. I said fucking STAND Phyllis. She should be stronger than that, fighting to see her child again. Isn't that what she had mentioned before? Having a kid back in District Three? And how that brought out the animal in her. And how I enjoyed the animal inside of her... The swift killing machine she had been brought up to. All under the Capitol's guidance, and some of mine, but give credit where credit is due. The Capitol did help her.

My head tilts left. But we're responsible, aren't we?
My head tilts right. Are we? I'm never to sure.

My head straightens and I take things in. Riker has taken my firewood, and I may have yelled at him if I hadn't forgotten. He knows how to make fires, I can't figure out how to rub two rocks worth a damn. And the girl seems to have changed a bit. She's walking around seeming average compared to her old deluded self. Did she watch the person she loved die? Phyllis is crying, confusing me once more. What has come across her mind to have lost it this far. There is nothing to apologize for, is there? I'm too puzzled to figure this out, so I fill my water can get to the fire. We need this. We really need this...

"Since none of you have killed me yet, I suppose you wouldn't mind letting me boil some water." She speaks to us, almost in a sarcastic tone. Does she believe she is really superior enough to talk down to me?

Remie shakes her head next to the girl. I'm to befriend her.

My head shifts to the left as I look up at her, a childish smile plastered on my face. I feel all innocent again, like the child in me is reborn. No... I am a child. Here to live out those little fantasies I had when growing up. How I would be the champ of ten. How I would be cool enough to hang out with the other victors. I would be the greatest... The only one proud of his time here. The only one who came in and wanted to let the rain of red flow over him. I am the the superego, and what is best for man is best for me.

“I only want some friends is all, is that so much to ask?” My voice is in some higher octave. It makes no sense to me. “So I don't mind sharing with a friend.”

My head tilts down and toward the right. Desire flows through my veins and I wish to unleash this upon the girl. How I want her to be the blood I bathe in. But then again, Remie is my conscious, talking me out of trivial things. Telling me what is best for my little old ego. He doesn't know what he needs. He should listen to me, the id, here to pleasure him full in full. Just to solve the pains of his body and mind. Won't he listen to me?

“You want to be a friend, right?” I motion my spear in my hand, even though Remie grabs back at me. I don't care, she has to understand. I am the demon, more beautiful than Lucifer. “I don't like enemies.”

[purifies water with fire]
[drinks water]
[Let's his mind wander]

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Last Edit: Oct 19, 2012 22:13:25 GMT -5 by SinInChaos

Credit to Charity

mcmarti99

guest

{Dreams Die Softly* [MS - Day 3] Oct 20, 2012 0:02:45 GMT -5

Quote

Post by mcmarti99 on Oct 20, 2012 0:02:45 GMT -5

I want to run, I want to hide,
I want to tear out the walls that hold me inside

Sorrow drowns Phyllis in her own tears. Wasn’t she allowed to have a weak moment? Riker dragged himself over to her and caressed her face gently. She held his hand there for a moment, soaking in it’s warmth and hoping to receive some form of comfort from it on her cheek. He brushed a tangled hair behind her ear and looked straight into her eyes. It wasn’t hard to be on love with him. His eyes shimmered like pools of blue, but they were a vibrant green. His cheekbones were so perfect and his hand fit right into the indentions of Phyllis’s own cheekbones. She wished he would kiss her and hold her and tell her it was alright, that she did nothing wrong, but when the girl in front of her shoved the laurel back into her hands, Phyllis knew she would never forgive her. It was wrong to want to kiss him. It was something she would have never even begun to think about back home, but this was different. He was almost her entire lifeline, and she owed him so much already. But she wouldn’t let herself fall for him. Not here, and not now.

With all the thoughts buzzing through her head and the touch of Riker’s hand on her cheek, Phyllis had failed to realize the blood that covered her from head to toe. She didn’t feel terribly hurt, but was it Riker’s touch that had gotten her through it? Still, when she looked at her hands, covered in dried blood, she couldn’t help but flinch. Blood on her hands. The painful memory jerked her from Riker’s hand.

Stop Phyllis. Don’t go there. It’s over. You forgot about it remember? But she knew she would never forget. Maybe someday, if she ever got back, she’d be thankful for it. She now had Kenai. Kenai. She’d tried to push him from her mind all day, but now, now that she felt safe and powerless for a moment, she’d let him renter her thoughts. Phyllis remembered his first steps. She remembered his first smile. And his first cough. And how happy he made her feel. And.. how the first time he said momma, it was when she saw him last. Tears had made streaks of her pale skin show through her blood covered face and now, the tears ran so hard and fast that her entire face soon restored it’s pale color. She turned away, hoping her allies wouldn’t see her. All of them besides Riker. She needed him right now, but she couldn’t make herself want him. Her voice wouldn’t cooperate anyways. Phyllis held her breath, in an attempt to keep her sniffles and weak noises unnoticeable. Using the shoulder of her toga, she tried to wipe the tears away. She couldn’t be this weak. If she wanted to see Kenai again, she’d have to be stronger. Not quite Damion strong, but more so than she was now. For the first time ever in the games, she felt the urge to win. Kenai brought something out in her. She’d displayed it in the Private Training Session and that got her a ten. She needed to unlock that part of herself somehow, despite the pain it would bring to her broken heart. It was the only way.

It wasn’t hard to channel her emotions into actions. Phyllis angrily rubbed at the dried blood on her skin until the friction burnt her hands. She grunted as she stood and stomped over to the ocean, her bloody toga clinging to her skin in a faded crimson color. Diving under the waves, she forced herself to stay underwater until her needy lungs gasped for breath. Slowly, the blood drained from her toga and body into the warm sea, taking all of her messed up emotions with it. She watched as the blood and dirt, along with sweat and grime from the past grueling days float away, and it gave her a sense of pride and dignity again. She had fought her emotions.One’s biggest conflict is often with himself And she had won.

When she finally drug herself out of the water, after gazing at the floating redness until she could see it no more, the others were chugging down gulps of water. Phyllis licked her dry and cracked lips, unamused by the dryness of them. She fetched her water jug and filled it. Then let the water boil, which seemed like forever, and finally let it touch her lips. She almost collapsed. The water hitting her tongue was amazingly stunning, and more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen or felt. She let it linger on her tongue before swallowing it and getting the same effect in her throat. Licking her lips, she returned some of the moistness to them, but it was soon drained as her lips sucked it up like a vacuum. Phyllis plopped down near the fire, leaning against a nearby tree and drank until she was satisfied.

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{Fills Water Jug}
{Boils water}
{Drinks water}
{Refills water jug}
{Boils water again}

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Let the blood wash away
Tear away your scars
That was part of yesterday
Today we won’t fall apart
Fall apart.
No, today we ain’t fallin’ apart.

I want to reach out and touch the flame
Where the streets have no name

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