^Αthena^Οsmund^D4 {FIN}

And the cry goes out

They lose their minds for us

And how it plays out 

Now we're in the ring

And we're coming for blood

Pain, misery, agony. Three words that sum up the feelings of losing... at least for a competitive bitch like me. So I will not lose, not once. I will not give you the satisfaction of beating me. I will destroy you. I will rip you down, and pull you apart, before you have the chance to defend yourself. Maybe I'm laying it on thick... so let's start from the beginning:

My first memory? Panic. At four I fell off a dock. I knew how to swim, after all I live in District 4, but some how I ended up beneath the creaky platform, preventing me from breaking the surface. I know my father saved me. He said that he saw my brown mane of hair clearly against the green tinted water of the ocean. But at four you are unable to understand that some one is helping you. At four you only understand that your lungs are burning and the world is growing darker. So you lunge at the person next to you, even if they are helping. Later, after he pulled me onto the dock my father had a long cut on his neck. The first of many clues about my violent ways.

My first hunger games? My fifth. The gore was fantastic, the blood splashed across the ground in fantastic patterns. But that wasn't what I was watching, I was looking at the intense fighting of these tributes, these pawns in a game more intense then any of the war games I played with my small group of friends. Speaking of friends, by six I had none. They said they didn't want to be with some one so controlling. I didn't mind. I had begun my training for the games. I started reading everything. But I was really focussed on the books that my father got me. They explained the techniques of handling weapons, of course I didn't understand everything. I mean what six year old knows the word philosophy.

You could try and take us

But we're the gladiators

Everyone a ragers

But secretly they're saviors

Glory and gore go hand in hand

That's why we're making headlines

You could try and take us

But victory's contagious

My first fight? I was eight at the academy, when the trainer told us to pair up I was left alone. Everyone else went to find a friend, and so there I was standing their looking with my grey eyes for a helping hand. But the other's just stared, and the trainer spotted me. Later he told me that every class had a loner, most would cry when no one wanted them. But I didn't. Instead I walked up to a group of boy, and demanded that one of them work with me. They looked uncomfortable, confused by this strange girl who spent her time in the corner with a book. Finally one stepped forward with a smirk, "I'll fight her." He was arrogant. He underestimated, but the first thing you'll learn about me is that I am not to be underestimated. When the teacher told us to fight he immediately took the offense. Throwing wild punches, causing me to duck and dive. I saw the group of kids watching us, silently snickering as they whispered about how I was going to lose. I needed to win, because their respect would keep me here. So on his next swing I grabbed his fist used my momentum to spin it around his back and with a quick push I broke his arm. The kids feared me then, but I recovered quickly. Saying I didn't mean it. They were wary at first, but let it go eventually. No one underestimated me anymore.

My first moment of sadism? That moment I broke his arm. I felt a sick joy in the pit of my stomach. The crack made me feel strong. I was alive. I could hurt others. It infected me, caused me to become delirious. It took everything I had not to laugh. I'm a sick girl, what can I say?

Delicate in every way but one (the swordplay)

God knows we like archaic kinds of fun (the old way)

Chance is the only game I play with, baby

We let our battles choose us

My first weapon? When I was 12 I got a sword. I called her Lu, short for lucid, because when I held her I could think clearly. When I held her, an endless array of maneuvers and attacks swirled through me head, from jabs to lunges to blocks. She made me think clearly. She helped me learn about myself.

My first boyfriend? At 15, I dated a boy named Tiresias. He was handsome enough, but I dated him due to the social pressure. I would never again make that mistake, because Tiresias was greedy. He wanted more than my lips. I wouldn't let him, no ass grabbing, no grinding, not for him. But he wanted more so he began to look at the other girls. The ones more willing to give him something, in fact I would have preferred if he had just broken up with me then. He wanted more. So one day I came up with a simple strategy that would quench his thirst for more while destroying his wandering eyes. I whispered for him to follow me. And follow me he did. I undressed, and he followed in suit. Then I attacked, tying him to the bed, he was willing, stupid enough to believe it was sexual. I grabbed a small knife, and thats when he panicked. "You wanted more Ti, you wanted to see others. Your disgusting, Ti. After this you won't be looking at girls anymore." I blinded him, a simple act to cut off a pervert from his fuel.

My first loss? See, you don't understand. I. Don't. Lose. I have a vast selection of attacks from years of reading. I have the physical aspect from years of training. I have the brains of a genius, the brawn of a career, and the tactics of a general. I am a winning machine. So now you need to ask yourself. Is it worth it to attack me? And unless you have a death wish, in which case I am happy to kill you, please do not aggravate me. Bye.

No-one round here's good at keeping their eyes closed

The sun's starting to light up when we're walking home

Tired little laughs, gold-lie promises, we'll always win at this

I don't ever think about death

It's alright if you do, it's fine

We gladiate but I guess we're really fighting ourselves

Roughing up our minds so we're ready when the kill time comes

Wide awake in bed, words in my brain,

"Secretly you love this do you even wanna go free?"

Let me in the ring, I'll show you what that big word means

Code: Odair... what a sick little girl.

^SONG~ Glory and Gore By: Lorde
^FC~Anastassia Rottie
^PLOT~ They Called Us Divine