Sword in the Stone [Jeq vs stone/sword]
Oct 10, 2015 19:37:49 GMT -5
Post by brad bradford ★ d5b [arx] on Oct 10, 2015 19:37:49 GMT -5
Jequirity Eckhart
tired mechanical heart
The girl --- (Daria Staite, District 4) --- she had a knife. And now that knife had my blood on it. The pain is relatively universal. But the image of the knife in her hand, her knife tearing through my clothes and burying itself into my skin, that's where the pain is hitting me the hardest. I hate knives.
And here I was with three very close encounters to the things. First when the boy from 4 (Someith Krearns, District 4) decided it might be fun to slice a gash in my cheek in the Training Center, the moment I thought I could be brave and cleave the past from my own skin, and now as I sprint away as fast as my legs will let me from the stage and the haunting tune of the harp, all I can think about is Daria's knife.
I feel blood dripping down the front of my shirt. It was so nice, so freshly-pressed, so white and clean ... now it's red. All red. My kilt is torn, my thigh is on fire. There is a cut on my hip that stings more than I think it should. And it's cold. So fucking cold. If I could go back to my private training session and beg for a warmer arena... I might just kill for that opportunity.
I slow down, my heart pounding and thoughts racing as I jump off the stage. They won't find me here. I was one of the last people to flee from the blood, sweat, and sleet; they would have the Wealth by now. I press my hand to my chest as the bleeding begins to slow. I grimace at the sting of it but fight to press down on it with as much force as I can. But with shaking, pale hands it was next to impossible to exert any sort of force.
This was --- this was a disaster, wasn't it? I was going to bleed to death right here, right now. My allies were nowhere in sight, there were blood-thirsty killers everywhere, and I was going to die alone just off-stage. How fitting. Of course the girl with no lines, no words, the girl who never spoke a single word, was going to die off-stage where no one would see. I deserve that.
Suddenly the song the harp had been playing ends and a new tune begins, this one even more eerie than the last one. I hear the creaking of floorboards and the crank of pulleys and lifts from within the stage. What in seven hells...? I twist myself so that I can peek over the edge of the stage. A group of four stands tall amongst the pile of things, each of them pondering over something.
I watch as one by one they attempt to pull --- something --- from one of the large granite stones towards the center of the stage. From what I can tell, they all either fail or don't try. Hmm.
I recognize her, the knife --- Relax, Jeq, they can't get you over here. --- I shake my head to rid myself of the terror. It doesn't help much, but just enough. All I needed was a second of courage. One measly second of courage like I had during my Private Training Session. And as the thoughts of the knife digging into my skin are for a moment shaken free from my mind, the fear swallowed and the darkness evaded, I find it.
I sneak around the stage, jumping up onto it again and ducking quickly behind the rocks as the group sorts through their piles and piles of goodies for the best of it. I take a deep breath, listening carefully to how far their voices are from me, gauging carefully when the right moment will be --- NOW!
I leap up onto the rock where the hilt of a sword stands free.
And I pull.
And here I was with three very close encounters to the things. First when the boy from 4 (Someith Krearns, District 4) decided it might be fun to slice a gash in my cheek in the Training Center, the moment I thought I could be brave and cleave the past from my own skin, and now as I sprint away as fast as my legs will let me from the stage and the haunting tune of the harp, all I can think about is Daria's knife.
I feel blood dripping down the front of my shirt. It was so nice, so freshly-pressed, so white and clean ... now it's red. All red. My kilt is torn, my thigh is on fire. There is a cut on my hip that stings more than I think it should. And it's cold. So fucking cold. If I could go back to my private training session and beg for a warmer arena... I might just kill for that opportunity.
I slow down, my heart pounding and thoughts racing as I jump off the stage. They won't find me here. I was one of the last people to flee from the blood, sweat, and sleet; they would have the Wealth by now. I press my hand to my chest as the bleeding begins to slow. I grimace at the sting of it but fight to press down on it with as much force as I can. But with shaking, pale hands it was next to impossible to exert any sort of force.
This was --- this was a disaster, wasn't it? I was going to bleed to death right here, right now. My allies were nowhere in sight, there were blood-thirsty killers everywhere, and I was going to die alone just off-stage. How fitting. Of course the girl with no lines, no words, the girl who never spoke a single word, was going to die off-stage where no one would see. I deserve that.
Suddenly the song the harp had been playing ends and a new tune begins, this one even more eerie than the last one. I hear the creaking of floorboards and the crank of pulleys and lifts from within the stage. What in seven hells...? I twist myself so that I can peek over the edge of the stage. A group of four stands tall amongst the pile of things, each of them pondering over something.
I watch as one by one they attempt to pull --- something --- from one of the large granite stones towards the center of the stage. From what I can tell, they all either fail or don't try. Hmm.
I recognize her, the knife --- Relax, Jeq, they can't get you over here. --- I shake my head to rid myself of the terror. It doesn't help much, but just enough. All I needed was a second of courage. One measly second of courage like I had during my Private Training Session. And as the thoughts of the knife digging into my skin are for a moment shaken free from my mind, the fear swallowed and the darkness evaded, I find it.
I sneak around the stage, jumping up onto it again and ducking quickly behind the rocks as the group sorts through their piles and piles of goodies for the best of it. I take a deep breath, listening carefully to how far their voices are from me, gauging carefully when the right moment will be --- NOW!
I leap up onto the rock where the hilt of a sword stands free.
And I pull.
beats 'til the song disappears
Jequirity attempts to pull the sword from the stone.
t4gx9wVG1-3
(success!)
CAMOUFLAGE STATION --- ACTIVATE! (PS: This means leave me alone<3)