{ Born green in a flawed garden } Laa & Opal Day 4
Aug 3, 2013 19:56:50 GMT -5
Post by cass on Aug 3, 2013 19:56:50 GMT -5
opal shore.
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The fog that had covered the area had made it impossible to see. It covered everywhere and after a few minutes Opal could not even see an inch in front of her. Then to her surprise Locust popped by her side. She focused her attention on the girl, refusing to let her get away, refusing to be stranded by herself. By now she had no clue where Drace and Xanthus were and she just hoped she could find them tomorrow. But, in all honesty, it was not her biggest concern.
It was dark by the time they settled down, Drace and Xanthus no longer with them. The fog still covered the land, making it impossible to see. The fading light had slipped from the sky, sometimes you could pretend that the darkness was swallowing it whole, filling it, grasping it and taking it all down until there was nothing but the gloomy shadows of the night. Just as the sky had begun to darken, just before the fog had taken control, Opal had been struck by the sight of familiarity as her eyes had scanned the horizon. Not even the dying sun could prevent her from noticing the scenery before her. The dark shape of what could only be the moss forest awaited them up ahead and with the growing darkness it was no more than a dark forbidding shape. With a dancing imagination she could picture a dozen different beasts within the shapes on the inky shadows and yet, from the elephants to any kind of horrid beast she could think of none of them even stirred even an inkling of fear within her. This time, however, as Opal gazed at the moss forest, she did not seek any comfort in the form of plants or living breathing insects. She did not need the security of a bit of moss, not any more. But still the sights of the green world was welcoming, there would be shelter there, and it was almost always cool when it came to moss, so they would spend their next day in a nicer place, better than the desolated land that they were fleeing from.
But now as the fog took control she could so no one and nothing, leaving them in a particularly vulnerable situation. Locust stopped, and Opal slipped down beside her.
Settling down she tugged Pyrite from around her waist. Then after slipping to the ground with a huff of air she grabbed her bag sliding it off her shoulders. Opal looked down at her shoes, she hated the blasted things. Tomorrow morning the first thing she was going to do was to pull the stupid things off and step barefoot into the moss forest. Who cares what kind of crap was there, barefoot was just as dangerous as the flimsy piece of shit she was already wearing on her feet. The things were incredibly uncomfortable and the wrapped around each tow each step brought with it the bursting thought that there was something wrong with her feet. It was like a continuous ringing in your head except it came from your feet, telling you oh hai there, you have a little problem down here. Could the gamemakers have been a little it kinder? Did they have to make their last days even more misery be making them wear this crap? Scowling she pulled the pathetic, ugly, horrid shoes off her feet. Resisting the urge to through them away she shoved them beside her bad, where her sword lay.
For a second she paused, eyes taking in the cruel, sharpened hook of the glaive. She almost admired the blades crude beauty. It was deathly sharp and she knew in action it was a very impressive weapon. It was the very weapon Julian Bryze had used to demolish the entire arena. But a great number of victors had stolen the crown with a sword as well and as much as she did not want to admit it she had grown sentimental towards the Dao. It was handy, powerful and was well, doing an impressive job of keeping her alive. Sighing she lay down, turning her head slightly she found herself staring at Locust Lovelace. The two had hardly talked since the last fight, hell none of them had really talked. Opal felt unable to bring herself to shatter the silence. In all honesty she felt colder and more detached from the real her then she could possibly understand. It was confusing to look down at her hands, to see know blood and to know she had killed someone. And yet, now as she thought about it she felt nothing. No guilt, no pain, no sadness or anger.
The anthem had been on the brink of difficult. After seeing the faces that had appeared – Motel, Erik, Akasha – it had been only that new cold feeling within her chest that had stopped her from aching and feeling the pain of the day all over again. It had taken only moments for Opal to get over it and for the whole anthem she did not even bat an eyelid, instead she watched, her gaze struck more by the way the anthem worked, by the music and the tune then the deaths. That was comforting, to know that the dead did not affect her, to know that whatever had happened that day had changed her and some rock hard wall had built itself in her mind to protect her from the dangers and the terrors of her suffering. Opal had even reached the point where she almost felt foolish for her outburst earlier that day; she had even missed in her next move after crying her little eyes out. That had been unlucky and stupid on her behalf. But now she was focused, grim and determined, an iron heart, steady mind and a calmness had wrapped itself around her. Nothing would part that veil, not this time.
Without thinking she scooted over and closer to Locust, the cold tinge to the air forcing her to search for a little bit more warmth. Yeah, that was the only reason why. Chuckling silently to herself she gazed down at Locust, she was stretched out, eyes closed, arms folded behind her head. Shrugging slightly Opal smirked before lying down beside her and pressing her head onto Locusts arm. There was instant warmth, but the feel of contact against her skin sent odd electricity through her. She hoped Locust would not mind, but, really she did not care. Besides this fog was dangerous, and if she didn’t stick close to Locust they could wind up separated by morning.
The morning brought with it a new day. But really, that was hardly a wonderful observation on Opal’s behalf. Every morning brought with it a new day, it was why you had new days. A deep fog had settled over the entire arena and the cold, chilling water seemed to sting as they woke up. She stood up, Locust and her continued onwards, they stuck close together, both unwilling to let the fog separate them. After what seemed forever it seemed to disappear and Opal halted. The sight of what appeared to be a million tiny trees greeted her. This was not the moss forest. Then she spotted her. Not ten feet away from them was Yaa Valarro. Her jaw clenched, her hands tightening around her sword. Quickly she stepped forwards, she was halfway through drawing her sword when Locust moved, barring her way as she stepped forwards to attack. “Hey, what the hell-“ She snapped, turning cold eyes onto Locust. Locust’s own gaze was dark, it was cold and threatening. Opal scowled, biting back her next hot, heated words. She knew how Locust felt, but that didn’t mean she should not hate Yaa, they were all tributes. They were all fighting for survival and Opal found the idea of ending Yaa’s life more pleasing then she had ever, before.
Glaring daggers at the two tributes she stiffly crossed her arms. Angrily she strode forwards, unable to let Locust determine what she could and could not do when around the two lovebirds. ”Look who we have here. Itty, bitty Yaa, all by herself. I’m warning you girl. One wrong move and I will not hesitate to attack you. Even if Locust is here.” Her tone was cold, defiant. And maybe, just maybe within the depths of what she said was a hint of jealousy, leaking into each word; it was hard to tell with all that bitterness.
[Opal drinks some good old water.]I'm waking up to ash and dust
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust
I'm breathing in the chemicals
I'm breaking in, shaping up,
then checking out on the prison bus