{Feel the Tide}{Island 6/Day 6 Fight}

Death had never terrified Dru, she had witnessed other people dying, had even played a part in the deaths of others, back from her days as a ruthless, gang representative. You would think her first intentional, full-blown kill would bother a gal like Dru. No, really. She was rich, pretty and sheltered--it should hit home right about now that she was also a monster, her soul should rear its brilliant, do-gooder head and convince her to take her own life, because she wasn't a pure enough human to be left alive.

All of that did happen, the falchion fell from her hands (she had conveniently pulled it out of Carex and wiped it clean) Dru cried, Ara consoled her with a deeper-meaning speech that got Miss Charlesburg thinking about the meaning of life. All of the SE members and Mel sat down to eat. Exeunt all, the Capitol decided to forget their ways, let them all go. They lived prosperous, happy lives.

Just kidding.

What really happened was Dru spoke to Carex, told him and everybody else for that matter that Aranica Petros was hers, just like this here falchion, still embedded in the face of the boy, was hers. She acted quickly, putting one foot on the other side of his face, and pulling at her weapon with both hands. It came out of him, warm and slick with blood. She smiled victoriously and thought of all the sponsors lining up for Dru Charlesburg, Slayer of the Beautiful. A beautiful angel running around killing equally good-looking people. Something dumb that didn't make sense. Now the food was theirs for the taking, Dru would get food and water into her system and later she could think about murdering everybody else in their sleep.

Or not. Shanks had a funny look on his face. Funny boy with a funny look on his face with the ha-ha-larious trident still clutched in his hands. Things weren't looking too good, Dru felt her spidey-senses tingling like crazy. And that smile was still plastered onto her face, that goofy smile was the last expression Dru wore before Shameless Euthanasia died an instant death, if it had been alive at all today. An attack against Jango had been made. Jango retaliated while the rest of the present company stared in awe.

Dru was ruthless though, drunk off of her first kill. She quickly darted over to where the two boys stood. "You're just as willing to kill him as I am to kill you." she told Jango, feeling the rightness of her words. Jango was a wild card, he had too much back at home going for him, Dru had known all along that it would be she to help kill this boy. Crush his love, crush his life and hope to God his girl friend wasn't a particularly skilled, machete-wielding psychopath out for revenge once Drusilla got out of the Games. That would be just her luck, to live only to die. Did that make sense? Who cares? Carex is dead, they're all dead. We're all dead, this is insane, so confusing.

She had chosen to stick with Shanks, the lovable puppy from District Four. It felt like an odd choice to make, like maybe she should be swinging her falchion in the direction of Shanks pretty face, but Dru was already in motion.

Her statement was still fresh in the minds of everybody around her, besides, Shanks had pulled a clever move. He had invoked the power of the Cloud Assassins that haunted and tormented Aranica Petros. Ara would attack any and all Cloud-affiliates. Jango was now an official enemy of her charge, the sisterly love of her life. It made sense to stick with a guy smart enough to trick an insane child into doing his bidding, right? Bad people always win. That's a fact. Jango was too sweet to ally herself with. Dru was trying desperately to convince herself of the rightness of the situation. Doubt still clouded her mind, the part of it that was functioning, that is. Still she saw visions of Carex, visions of herself. Black, white and red flashed every time she closed her eyes. Black like her heart, the pale white of the dead, the red of blood, of vengeance, regal red.

Super-active, hyped up. Insane. A wild resolve lay deep in her heart as Dru once again 'aimed and fired' her weapon. She cringed a bit as her falchion cut air, fearing the results of her own blow. For Gods sake, she was a killer. She could do anything with her blade in her hand and her friends by her side. Dru found it laughable, she had been expecting to spend the rest of the day peacefully, eating and being merry with SE, but now she felt herself eagerly anticipating bringing down this boy. Dru knew she needed to rest soon but then again there ain't no rest for the wicked.

And Drusilla Bellatrix Charlesburg was one wicked, wicked girl.

ATTACKS JANGO [dice=156+3653000]

She was at peace with herself, finally.
She knew what she was.
Where she came from and where she was going did not matter. All that was left was the one simple fact that these were the Games, and she was a willing player.

ooc- everything will go back to normal with Dru in the next post. Shes just not as calm, cool and controlled right now. This is Wild Dru...