this bright flash {wednesdae vs naveen} day 8
Nov 17, 2012 10:37:33 GMT -5
Post by rook on Nov 17, 2012 10:37:33 GMT -5
{ w e d n e s d a e d r u m m o n d }
"maybe I am mad, obsessive and sadistic… but I am oh-so perfect..."
[/i][/right]the sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
the thunder of the drums dictates
the rhythm of the falls
the number of deaths
the rising of the horns ahead
I wake up, which is a surprise. At first, I think I am dead, the blackness of the Pit is too similar to my visions of hell that I accept my demise. Yet then I feel the pain in my leg, the throbbing in my arm, and I know that I must suffer for just that little bit longer. I look to my left, to where Demeter was. We died together, we fell into Ripred's palms together. We fought, we bled, we cried... Yet in the end we were just children who wanted to go home. I admired her ambition, her thoughts and strategies were oh-so similar to mine. Maybe that was why we were so closely matched. Regardless, I look now to her silhouette of blood and screw up my face. All that is left of her is but memory. We changed, as we faced death. We saw that fighting had become useless, and we opened up.
My leg is bandaged. I don't remember wrapping up the exposed limb, but then again there is a lot I don't remember. Blood loss leaves me dizzy as the night passes into a purple blackness that tells me it is deep into night, My arm reaches to my aching head and it's then that I realize that I have lost my right arm too. A zap of pain sends me recoiling, and I see that the stub is bandaged tightly. Did I do this, or did Demeter wrap me up once I passed out? Is she still alive? The blur of the anthem seems to come on cue, and my face droops as I see the District Two girl's face. She must have died some time later in the night, whilst I was unconscious. I was certain that we had gone down together. I actually feel some form of guilt, deep inside.
Both Curtis and Heather join Demeter's face, and I now know that just five of us are left. Peridot, Aria, Naveen, Bran and Myself. I grow increasingly annoyed that a cripple has gotten himself this far, but I can't judge him, not anymore, not now that I am crippled too. My belongings are a messy pile to my left, my sword is to my right. I pick up the blade and sheath it in the belt provided by the Gamemakers. I can't feel the pain in my arm, and I can't feel my leg at all. Numbness is not a good sign, but it's a relief that the spasms are over. I fall back into a deeper sleep, waiting for dawn to break and tell me that I must kill again.
It comes in stabbing rays of orange, wake up, wake up. My eyes open slowly and with a groan. The pain is still there, faint but there. I roll onto my belly, which causes me to grimace as my leg regains some feeling. I push myself to my knees and grab the Spear that I no longer use as a weapon. It makes a good walking stick, and so I stabilize myself on my feet, looking very much like an old man, hunched over and groaning. My entire right-side is gone, with no foot or hand. I feel like half a person, and I wonder how I will win this. Tick-ti... Tick-ti... The imperfect ticking of my token is all that can be heard in this gray canyon of lost tributes. It is deafening to my ears that still, after all of this, search for perfection.
I take a moment to look down at where Demeter lay, next to me. Standing makes me feel so far away from her, looking down at her red ghost. I spot a glimmer of gold in the pinky dawn, which makes my head tilt. Gold? I reach down to pick it up at the cost of an agonizing jolt from my leg. It is her lipstick, her token. I frown, wondering why she chose such an everyday object to be her token. Maybe she needed to be reminded that no matter how crazy things get, there is still some normality with her. I abolished normality a long time ago, all I have is a broken clock - a taunt. I pocket the lipstick, it will now be my reminder that I can't let the truth get distorted in the sea of madness that I swim in.
It takes hours for me to cover distances that would usually take minutes. Each step is more painful than the last, and a constant wince is sketched onto my pale face. Dried blood cracks a mouth in my pale face, a red streak, open and gaping, much like a scream. Yet I'm not afraid. My hair, once a deep chestnut, is now gray with dust and ash. My eyes flicker red, not their natural color, but when you're constantly looking for blood, it's hard to see anything else. My cloak drags behind me in the dust, it too is gray, differing from it's original brown. Everything in this place turns to stone, it won't be long before I'm nothing more than a statue. A spirit in the dust. A forgotten God.
I spot another blur, a specter in the white morning light. A girl, so small and fragile. She isn't exactly hiding, but maybe she wants someone to approach her, maybe she's deadly. I stop, my spear digs into the clay to steady me, and I stare at her silhouette, wondering if I have gone crazy. It's too small to be Aria, which makes me think that this can only be Naveen. Her allies are all dead, I made sure of that, so she must be alone. I wonder where Peridot and Aria are, if not here, hunting me. They could be in cahoots with Naveen, and this is all a set up. Let them try and trick me, I'll still kill them. I am broken, yes, but I am still deadly. Demeter's downfall was thinking me beaten.
I want to go home, but there is no home anymore. Even if I win, I dare not go back. I am a killer, I am a purifier. The only place I would belong would be on display in the Capitol. At least there I'd be loved, and not shunned by the people who used to love me. What is love, anyway? What is love to a dead man? Kiera was in love with me, but in the three days I have spent without her, I have concluded that it was a teenage lust. I never needed her. Did I? No, I didn't. Then why am I crying? I wipe the redness from my eyes with anger, frustration at myself. I channel it, use it against the shadow that lurks. In that moment, I decide. I attack.
I realize that I cannot fight with the spear that I use to steady myself, and I will be relying on balance. I drop the spear and balance on my only working leg, drawing my blade. I feel stupid as I slowly hop towards her, getting closer and closer to her outline. I lash out, bringing my blade down as forcefully as I can. Here we go again...
[Wednesdae attacks NAVEEN, Broadsword]
[dice=200+1000]
[Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damage]
[
from the dawn of time to the end of days
i will have to run away
i want to feel the pain
and the bitter taste
of the blood on my lips again
[/i][/right]i will have to run away
i want to feel the pain
and the bitter taste
of the blood on my lips again
[/size][/color][/blockquote]
text inner voice key thoughts personal dialogue words of others[/i]
notes: psdhidfhgsdf
theme:[/color] "Iron" - Woodkid
graphics:[/color] All credit to the amazing Onyx~![/color][/size]
[rand=49689938662886357861790925417806638269128623820677850466412687753]