Defined as Retribution [TSA Vs. SW Vs. Crocolisk]
Mar 8, 2016 16:59:31 GMT -5
Post by mat on Mar 8, 2016 16:59:31 GMT -5
Atticus Manor
I look at the bloodshed, some of it for the little girl who now burns in the beating sun, even more from the boy I had hurt. Some is from Astrid, the first time I've seen a significant amount of blood from her body expose itself into the swampy arena.
But other than that, bloodshed is at a stop. We all take a second to breathe in, to digest the situation of a girl burning. Seven of us, just stare as the flames continue to consume her. I almost wish, now that there's someone paying the ultimate price of death, that I could help her, but I know there's no use in risking myself becoming doused as well.
Atticus, breathe. I continue to breathe, readying to launch another javelin at the enemies if they continue to attack. I doubt they will, though, they're already undermanned within seconds. There's no way the girl could continue fighting. In fact, her cannon should come any second.
When it does, I'm relieved. Just higher odds for me.
Just as I think that, I stop breathing for a second. Two seconds. A mutt comes toward us, and it swings it tail towards me. It seems as if every day, gamemakers decide to challenge me with yet another cut into my body. They keep trying to break me, and every time they fail. But now, the mutt is in addition to a burning girl, a girl with a heart and soul and people who cared for her. I can only name four people who have demonstrated that they cared for me, and she could, if she wasn't trying to save her own life, name hundreds upon hundreds.
The tail swings into my stomach, digging deep into my body. Once again, they reach in and take another thing away from me. People will keep taking bits and pieces of me until I have nothing left, nothing left to feel or see or smell or taste or hear.
I don't want to die broken. I don't.
I want to die with a good story, one with a happy ending that everyone will learn something from. Even if it's something simple, like Atticus will make sure whoever killed Quadrys will get what they deserved. Other things can be more complex. Each little breath Atticus takes is just another unit lower of how many he has left. When it reaches zero, our story ends.
I take deep breaths, trying not to scream in pain. I can't make myself look like an easy target, I need these tributes to go away. They do, one by one, until all three are far away. Then, we have more shit to deal with.
Deep breaths, Atticus. You think Quadrys would crown a king who can't fight through pain?
No. Quadrys would make sure there was no pain, but he isn't here, so I have to be like him. After this mutt is as far down as it can go, I'll make sure I don't have any pain. Even if it requires bandages, stitched, food, drink, plants, a loving voice. I'll make it happen for him because I need to keep going. My story is still shorter than most, and I need to keep writing.
I try to catch every detail, each one in attempt to be better than the last.
Sol, Nell, and Astrid all try to fight the mutt, and honestly, I try my hardest not to. The mutt is just here to make sure we all keep fighting. I look at Sol, his fire still beaming. He burned that little girl to death, he practically pushed her into a room with a million flames and embers, and then he locked the door. The didn't let her escape. He didn't give her a second chance. He didn't try to save her.
I don't even know the girl's name, but I know that she's too young to deserve to die.
Sol Shim is a murderer.
He's murdered mutts in the past, just as I have, but that doesn't compare to actually taking a life. Those mutts were all monsters, trying to kill us without any mercy. They had no feelings, they had no brain to tell them right from wrong. The gamemakers just made them vicious, they made them monsters. And now, they're brainwashing Sol to do the same.
They're turning Sol Shim into a monster.
They want us all to be monsters, to torture us and make us mindless killers.
Quadrys's killer is a true monster, just as Sol is, and those people who killed those three tributes on the first day. They're all monsters, bloodthirsty people with the intent to kill. I had no intent to kill the boy from Eleven, but I launched the javelin to make sure he'd stay away, and my weapon did just that.
He ran away, and I'm glad he did.
I stare at the girl, the flames beginning to die down from her battered and beaten soul.
"Sol Shim, you're a monster," I walk over to him, now that Astrid has finished off the mutt. I rip my bloody javelin from the ground. For the first time in the games, I'm angry at my friends.
He's not a friend anymore. He's a monster. Murderer.
I almost stab into him with it, showing him no mercy. He has to pay for what he did.
"A fucking monster!" I slap him across the face. I don't want to turn into one of his kind, a cold-blooded killer. I suppose you could tell me to suck it up as killing is part of the games, but murder is much more than that. The girl was still a human, a wonderful person who deserved to have a longer story. I feel as if the games should live up to their name. Hunger. Be the one with the most conservative digestive system to win. Fight over food, but fighting and eventually killing because we can is never going to get anything solved in a world like this.
"A MONSTER!" I scream at him now, directly into his ear. I feel as if the girl could've been my daughter and I a mom considering the tears that travel up by the bucket-full from the well of my eyes. They flow, and I do not let the stream be blocked by my eyes rubbing away the liquid.
I run away from them, and instead, in the direction of the enemy.
Just take a second to cool down, Atticus.
I can't cool down in the burning heat of the arena.
Just breathe and go back to your friends when you're ready..
But at what time I am ready is a time that nobody will be able to tell.
I will be the only human being to say when that time comes because I am nobody.
Always have been, and always will be.
[atticus flees]
[shits gonna happen later in trib maint]
But other than that, bloodshed is at a stop. We all take a second to breathe in, to digest the situation of a girl burning. Seven of us, just stare as the flames continue to consume her. I almost wish, now that there's someone paying the ultimate price of death, that I could help her, but I know there's no use in risking myself becoming doused as well.
Atticus, breathe. I continue to breathe, readying to launch another javelin at the enemies if they continue to attack. I doubt they will, though, they're already undermanned within seconds. There's no way the girl could continue fighting. In fact, her cannon should come any second.
When it does, I'm relieved. Just higher odds for me.
Just as I think that, I stop breathing for a second. Two seconds. A mutt comes toward us, and it swings it tail towards me. It seems as if every day, gamemakers decide to challenge me with yet another cut into my body. They keep trying to break me, and every time they fail. But now, the mutt is in addition to a burning girl, a girl with a heart and soul and people who cared for her. I can only name four people who have demonstrated that they cared for me, and she could, if she wasn't trying to save her own life, name hundreds upon hundreds.
The tail swings into my stomach, digging deep into my body. Once again, they reach in and take another thing away from me. People will keep taking bits and pieces of me until I have nothing left, nothing left to feel or see or smell or taste or hear.
I don't want to die broken. I don't.
I want to die with a good story, one with a happy ending that everyone will learn something from. Even if it's something simple, like Atticus will make sure whoever killed Quadrys will get what they deserved. Other things can be more complex. Each little breath Atticus takes is just another unit lower of how many he has left. When it reaches zero, our story ends.
I take deep breaths, trying not to scream in pain. I can't make myself look like an easy target, I need these tributes to go away. They do, one by one, until all three are far away. Then, we have more shit to deal with.
Deep breaths, Atticus. You think Quadrys would crown a king who can't fight through pain?
No. Quadrys would make sure there was no pain, but he isn't here, so I have to be like him. After this mutt is as far down as it can go, I'll make sure I don't have any pain. Even if it requires bandages, stitched, food, drink, plants, a loving voice. I'll make it happen for him because I need to keep going. My story is still shorter than most, and I need to keep writing.
I try to catch every detail, each one in attempt to be better than the last.
Sol, Nell, and Astrid all try to fight the mutt, and honestly, I try my hardest not to. The mutt is just here to make sure we all keep fighting. I look at Sol, his fire still beaming. He burned that little girl to death, he practically pushed her into a room with a million flames and embers, and then he locked the door. The didn't let her escape. He didn't give her a second chance. He didn't try to save her.
I don't even know the girl's name, but I know that she's too young to deserve to die.
Sol Shim is a murderer.
He's murdered mutts in the past, just as I have, but that doesn't compare to actually taking a life. Those mutts were all monsters, trying to kill us without any mercy. They had no feelings, they had no brain to tell them right from wrong. The gamemakers just made them vicious, they made them monsters. And now, they're brainwashing Sol to do the same.
They're turning Sol Shim into a monster.
They want us all to be monsters, to torture us and make us mindless killers.
Quadrys's killer is a true monster, just as Sol is, and those people who killed those three tributes on the first day. They're all monsters, bloodthirsty people with the intent to kill. I had no intent to kill the boy from Eleven, but I launched the javelin to make sure he'd stay away, and my weapon did just that.
He ran away, and I'm glad he did.
I stare at the girl, the flames beginning to die down from her battered and beaten soul.
"Sol Shim, you're a monster," I walk over to him, now that Astrid has finished off the mutt. I rip my bloody javelin from the ground. For the first time in the games, I'm angry at my friends.
I almost stab into him with it, showing him no mercy. He has to pay for what he did.
"A fucking monster!" I slap him across the face. I don't want to turn into one of his kind, a cold-blooded killer. I suppose you could tell me to suck it up as killing is part of the games, but murder is much more than that. The girl was still a human, a wonderful person who deserved to have a longer story. I feel as if the games should live up to their name. Hunger. Be the one with the most conservative digestive system to win. Fight over food, but fighting and eventually killing because we can is never going to get anything solved in a world like this.
"A MONSTER!" I scream at him now, directly into his ear. I feel as if the girl could've been my daughter and I a mom considering the tears that travel up by the bucket-full from the well of my eyes. They flow, and I do not let the stream be blocked by my eyes rubbing away the liquid.
I run away from them, and instead, in the direction of the enemy.
Just take a second to cool down, Atticus.
I can't cool down in the burning heat of the arena.
Just breathe and go back to your friends when you're ready..
But at what time I am ready is a time that nobody will be able to tell.
I will be the only human being to say when that time comes because I am nobody.
Always have been, and always will be.
[atticus flees]
[shits gonna happen later in trib maint]
