404 [day 7 -- anise vs. eva]
Apr 22, 2017 23:15:22 GMT -5
Post by shrimp on Apr 22, 2017 23:15:22 GMT -5
Ⱥ Ǹ ¡ § E ---
As the conversation rages around her she sits in silence, staring at the napoleon on her plate. The border of the china is decorated with delicate swirls, razor leafs and tiger stripes that leap and bound in a never-ending race. From above she swears she can almost hear piano music, and attributes it to the rolling muttations careening from the Greenhouse to the banister with teeth for stairs. Next to her, the noot noot nuzzles against her leg, and she absentmindedly scratches it on the forehead before it trots off to converse with its brethren.
She glances around. Izar converses with the boy from 12 and Riven, the girl with no legthe girl who killed Gabby no, this is a party not a bloodbath. She glances at Cassiopeia and Saummerand, the only other ones left from her own district as they pick at their plates - the silence is strange, even for her. She pokes the pastry with her fork. Each layer's been baked to perfection, crisp layer of flakes adorned with an equal height of cream, dotted with vanilla bean. Cut into perfect squares while still cold, the chocolate and vanilla icing combed to zig-zags, deformed hearts or severe marble.
The crust crunches like bone beneath her teeth, the cream is thick and oversaturated. She isn't surprised - this is the Capitol after all, they've never been able to do anything without excess. The tart she had nibbled at had fruits drowning in syrup, glistening as the sun blinked through the white roses. The mini cake was filed with white chocolate ganache instead of carbs, the sugar hitting her like a brick and the raspberry compote on top fought with her canker sore. She sighs, and places her hands in her lap. Gabby would have attacked this pile of food like she stabbed at Molly, sliced at Raven and
She washes down her napoleon with her cup of matcha, but it feels wrong as it coats her throat - cloying, overly sweet - a bitter t̸a̸n̶g̴ in the aftertaste and she blinks once. Twice. Her heart rate begins to thump and she quickly rises from the table, making move to leave. Something isn't right; they've poisoned the tea. She knew she shouldn't have drank it, but is the Capitol planning on killing them all slowly? Have they simply poisoned some and not others? Are they all going to go mad? A Mad Tea Party (she almost scoffs, if she weren't so obvious, she so furious).
As she strides out of the garden the bellop that chased after her the moment she and Tamron landed with a thump on the ground, noot noot in one hand and a hanglider on the other, spitting out her axes. Swiftly (but not swift enough, her hand bangs against its side and she reassures it with a gentle caress, a quick scratch on the back of its head) she grabs the weapons, and walks. The edges of her vision begin to fade and she dashes, away from those who'll take this opportunity with a blade and a bow, away from the house that seems to swivel, staring at her with unblinking windows as she goes.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe i̶n̸, breathe o̶͔͖̣̞̓̈͝ù̵̦̣͕̔t̴̓́͜ her heart is running as quickly as she is but her breath is shallow, her power is fading and everything that she's taught to the arrogant pupils in Two, everything that her father's even said to her flies out the window as the world turns rainbow and swirls around her mind, the whales that follow her shrinking and enlarging and black ink leaking from her tattoos and caressing her wrist, the smell of iron wafting towards her nose.
Time passes, hours or days or years. The world halted and rewound itself back to when Molly was alive, her thigh squirting out blood and her scream piercing Anise's eardrums, teeth coated in r̶u̵b̸i̵e̷s̸ and eyes c̴͕̬̙̜̘̎͆ŕ̸̭͚͉̈́̽͝ÿ̸̥̥͖͍́͠ͅi̸̞̟̲͈͌̂̇͑͘͜ǹ̷̨̹̺̖̞̳̪g̴̨͇̻̣͖̱͠ ̷̱͙̙̓̋̈͐͛r̷̻̭͘i̸̘̥̰͎͕̇v̶̠͔̠̇e̴̪̳̫͔̜̜͌̉̓r̶̮̥̿͘ş̵̨̙̩̲̜̙̑͐͐̑͘ ̴̭̫͓̖̃̑͌̆̒̈ but her feet aren't wet so she can't be at the salt flats. Raven's cackle turns into a sob akin to Anise's own, and her mouth grows a h̷u̴n̸d̷r̶e̵d̴ ̷s̷i̷z̴e̵s̵ ̵l̶a̴r̸g̶e̵ ̵a̶n̶d̸ ̶s̸w̷a̴l̷l̸o̵w̵s̵ ̷h̵e̷r̶ ̴w̶h̵o̷l̶e̷ ̵a̸s̶ ̶t̷h̵e̶ ̵g̵r̷o̴u̷n̷d̶ ̷b̴e̵n̴e̸a̷t̸h̷ ̴h̷e̵r̸ ̴f̸e̷e̴t̸ ̵d̶i̸s̸a̸p̴p̶e̴a̸r̶s̴ ̸a̶n̵d̸ ̴s̶h̶e̴'̵s̸ ̴f̴ ̸a̸ ̷l̶ ̶l̶ ̵i̵ ̸n̴ ̵g̴ back through the earth except this time there's no golden eyed girl to hold her hand as she goes.
The earth shakes and she remembers that her feet never left the ground. World momentarily paused, she continues with shaky breaths and a sore throat. She doesn't like this. When she tells her mind to stop wandering it turns into a race, when she tells her lungs to breathe they contract instead, releasing a hiccup that turns into a giggle that turns into a laugh and the grinding of teeth so severe that she's splitting the universe in two. Alive and dead.
Her knees quake, and she falls into a heap, through the rabbit hole but never in. If she closes her eyes the red is still there, ̵͔͔͋̆̆͜ḯ̶̡̖͓͇͠ͅn̶͔̎͑̓̽͘v̷̜̠̼̦̂̂̎͝a̶̛̜̱͍̯͊͆̒͘d̴̨̞̟̣̟͗̈́i̵̮̪͘͜n̴͇̱̞̤͈̽ģ̴͂̈́ ̷̛͚͚̫͉͉̽͑́̔h̷͇̪͒̀̏͑̅͜è̸͖̄̃̈͝ŗ̶͇͔̯͍̆͐͋ ̴̨̲̙̿͊m̶̢̘̕ḯ̶̥̗̳͉̈́̽ǹ̸̨̙͇͈͑̿̑̀d̵͓̮̫̈ and seeping into her fingernails, painting over her thumbprints. Her intestines curl inside out and back again, hair grows to by miles and shrinks back into her head. I'm going insane. For the first time in decades, she feels lava cooling on her cheeks and covers her face, knowing someone out there must be watching this breakdown with glee, agony, sponsors tucking their money back into their wallets as the robot's finally s h u t d o w n, whether through a fork bomb or a fatal error, r m - r f /
She can sense Molly and Raven staring down at her, arms crossed and gaze unfeeling. Their pupils embed themselves into her corneas. In this mess all she wants is for it to be over, for a girl who's been through hell and back again and who's stuck more needles in her arm than some doctors have in their lives to sit by her, ̵̬̟̄t̶̼́̋̀ȍ̶͔͈ ̴̻̳͋̕ẗ̷͚̪̐̚ẻ̸̥̌̌ḽ̶̛̲̊̈́l̶͍͉̻̽ ̶̹̑ḧ̸̲́e̴̬̔̀̕r̴̩̭̈͜ ̷̮͆ĥ̵͚̱̎ö̴͕̤́͂ẁ̸̗̦ ̶̙̍̂t̵̗̀̇ò̵̟̫̈͠ ̸͔͕͍͑̈́͝g̵̪͠ȇ̵͔ẗ̵̗͈͖́̀̔ ̴̹͒͒t̷̖̺͒͊̉h̷͔̩̅́ȓ̶̳̲̺̀o̸͔̟̅u̴̘͈̎͛͜ǵ̷̡̲͇̍̉ḩ̵͒̈́ ̴̙̹̇̆ţ̶͉͛h̷̞̐̈̕i̴̳͔͈̚s̴̖͆͑.̴͙͈̓̆͝ ̴̟̍̉B̶̪͓̆u̵̩̤͑t̷̰͇̦̀̈́̎ ̶͇̥̌ẙ̴̢̕ọ̶͉̪̉ṵ̴̢͉̐ ̵̬͎̥́c̴̢͒̓ả̶͓̘̯̈́̏ṅ̴̰͇̄̌'̵͙̆ť̸͓ ̷̭̳̀̉̽w̸̜̩̭̽̅i̵̹̊̃͘s̴̱̠̅̐̌͜h̸͖͈͗͒̑ ̴̬̍̓t̵̟̮͉̽̀̚ḥ̵̟̿͐̐͜e̸̲͈͓̿͌ ̸͚̙̑d̶͎̘͐̃̇e̴͎̐͠a̵͙͋́d̴̝̼͗͒͋ ̶̩̰̪̐b̵̧̦̓̀̑͜a̸̡̯͙͠ć̴̩̆̈́k̶̗̬͎͐̊̕ ̶̝͗̚t̴͈̀̚o̶̧̊̄̄ ̶̞̏͝ḷ̶̥̎̾̏i̷̡̘̐͠f̴̛͚̹̳̒͆ȇ̵̜̮̃ ¤HÔ¦K¥:©<»¥;¼¤:¦9¿¨:¸¤=¸¢@·Ÿ:±)9¯*9±*9)7µ*6®)9ª*9±*5*6®*7¬)4±*:µ*ÿ¯*^°):·+8º+?º É°žL´*r±*’· d¸ž>À¡5Ó¤0Ó¤6ͤ1Ô«0Úª0Ó¨1Ù¨/Ù¦.Ô¤/Ú¦0…¦3æ¤2‡¥1o®1è«3[¯/T´0b±0[´,W·.W±,T·-M½.Oº-Q¹.K¾.J¼4R±3O¯;\†¿̷©̷©̸¤̴¦̸¹̸̷̴9̶P̶´̴/̵K̶À̴F̸W̵±̶©̵¤̴̴¤̵¢̴̴¾̵·̵¯̶Ï̵À̵±̶Ç̴»̵²̴Ê̶º̵̷Y̵Ð̵̵G̷_̴®̵G̷`̷µ̵L̴`̸¸̶>̷N̶¸̷=̴N̴º̶?̷N̶¸̵G̶S̵¶̴E̸P̸¸̷L̶Y̸¶̷k̷Ë̴¶̸Ð̵¿̴µ̴²̸«̵²̸ž̵ž̴«̸)̴*̵¦̶̴(̸*̵¢̶(̶*̸¡̵)̴*̸*̸(̶*̴¢̷(̵(̶£̵(̷(̵¡̸(̷(̶¡̴(̴(̴Ÿ̶(̴(̸ ̴)̷(̵Ÿ̵(̴)̴ ̴(̸)̶ ̴(̴(̶ ̵(̵)̴Ÿ̴(̸(̸¡̸(̷(̴¤̷(̴)̴¢̶(̴)̶¢̷(̵*̴£̷)̵)̷¦̵)̷*̷«̸*̸)̴¾̴¡̴ ̴-̷-̸.̵.̴-̴§̸²̵.̴¯̷¾̴.̵©̴µ̵.̶£̴±̴-̴¯̶½̶.̴®̴º̵.̵«̶¸̴.̵®̴º̶.̸²̶½̷.̸»̸Ä̸.̷¾̴Á̴.̶Á̷¿̵.̵¶̷¿̴.̸³̵¼̴.̷¢̴§̶ü̷.̸/̴Ÿ̷.̵ ̴£̶.̵²̵¶̵.̵¶̷º̸-̴±̴¼̷,̴£̷±̷-̴ ̸̵,̵¡̴ª̷-̶§̴µ̶-̶®̶º̴,̶»̶,̵·̴¿̵,̶½̴Ḛ̴́̄̈-̸̬̦̉̊͝È̷̺̤̓͛É̷̘̃͜-̷̲͛͝Ì̵̙̈Ò̷̥̖̯̓̅-̵̡̫̯̓͆½̷̹͓̅̆͜Æ̷͙͋̈́̐,̵̖̝͎͗̏°̶̶̬̞̠̑͗͗º̶̠̐̑̍,̵̖̄ ̴̼̣͂̾ͅª̴̙̱̻́̆̊,̶̝̍̈́,̴̳̘̄̃£̴̭̩̗̉̍̈́-̵̨͖̭̾̂̋-̵̙̑̀¨̴͓͉̒͌-̸͇̙͐͝,̵̥̘́¤̴̛̭̠̐̈́-̸̫̿¡̵͚̋͒¯̵̪̑-̷̧̞͋̉¬̷̺̾¹̵͙̞̪͛-̴̺̊̽͌¢̴͔͌̋̕±̷͔͊-̷̢̺̼̀́́ ̷̧̺̯̑̽¬̴͖͛͠-̶̝͋̍͜¦̸͚͗̂͜·̸̺̽͋͠-̵̪͉͔͋¢̶̬͇̓̉͌³̷̢͓̈́͜-̵͙̪͝ž̶̩͔͝®̵̮̤̊̚-̷̘͚̘͑͂Ÿ̵̰́̕¯̶̤̱̻̊̽͠,̵̜̳̓ ̵͙̤̔®̷̹͘,̸̦̓¡̷͈̘̐̍®̵͙̭͚̾,̸̶̦̣̓͂̽̌̑«̸̜̦͜͝,̶̟͓͙̄̽̅-̵̼͇͗̒£̶̈́̾͜,̶̯̖̀̈̄͜-̸̟̲̺͆£̸͚͂̽̆ͅ,̶̫͐̾͊-̶̘̫͖͛̎©̸͇͗-̵͓̟͙̂͠ž̶͓̘̾̒̍«̷̙̒̎-̵̼͗̀Ÿ̶̼̘̠̊¯̷͎̫̌,̷̟͛͠,̴̞͇̋¦̷̧͈́̓̈-̸͚̜̠̋,̷̖̣̽̒̍ž̵̟̗͘,̷͎̠̳̽-̵͖̘̈́͌-̸̦̝͐͂ ̶̞͓͕̿̌́+̷̨̩̼̀,̸͚̻͆͑¡̶͚͔̏̊-̶̬̗͐͘-̵̖́ͅž̴͈͑̽+̵̤̦̀̽̊͜-̴̻̹̂̈́ž̵͇̗̻̌̓-̷̨͗̔̎,̵̷̣͔̪̫̀͗̋͛̊-̷̖̹̅ž̵͔͍̪̌̅̔-̷̣͍̐̄̿,̵͖̺̃-̶̜̓-̷̣̭̐,̴̪̌,̸͉͎̋̄ͅž̵̪̠̎́+̷̖͉̑̀,̸̘̏̑ͅŸ̶̹̮̇͑͝+̵̠͠,̷̩͕̔͠¡̶̪̳̎+̴͍͚̱̒͌-̶̣̝̐͗̆¢̷̱͑̉ͅ+̵͚̲͚͛̋̓,̷̲̪̿̈́͠£̸͚̀,̶̰̥͚̌̕͝,̴̮̇͐͠¢̷͓̉͊+̷̖̦̗̾̚-̶̜̮̦͆¢̵̭̓+̸͓̊̆,̶̪̟̀̕£̷̖̑͂̉+̸̘͗͠+̴̻̅¤̷͉͓͐̌̋+̸̨̇+̷̩̻͍͊̊¤̴̢̨̖̏+̸̨̭̊+̴̝̉̀̀¤̸̛̘̇̎+̸̙̺̻̈́̈́-̶̪̮́¤̷͚̮̆͐+̸̰̲̭͒͘-̴̨̗̀̃¤̴̴̡̢̭̱̭̖̽̾͋͠+̸̨̗͔̀̉,̴̭̋̍̈¢̴̲͐̉͝+̶͙̉͜,̶͎͕̾̕¡̸̻͚̄̈̿ͅ,̷̜̞̳͒̆̕,̷͕̪̼̑̚ ̵̨̮̺̈́̀+̶̳͈͓͠͠,̴̣̦̰̿̉͝ž̸͕̱̱̋͒̾+̵̨̋͗̓-̶̛̆͜Ÿ̷̞͎̿̓-̸̸̛̠̺̱̣̃̐͝-̸͔͕̎̆,̴̡̱͙͌̅͗+̴̗̖̅̄̓,̶̖͑̈¡̷̫̲̙͒̀͂+̵̼͇́̐̚-̷̘̳̔͒¢̴͖̣̹̒̄+̶̢̀,̷̣̒͌̾£̶̯̫͑̕+̴̖̘͋̚-̶̥̯̟̒¤̵͇̪̜̅̓+̸̰̭̚,̸̽̏̏ͅ£̷̧̱̝͆͌+̴͍̰̓͊-̵̳̋̐͠¤̷̭͗͌͋+̸̲̾͌-̴̫̼͛̈́ͅ¡̸̳̿̅+̸̟̮̽,̴͈̄̔͐¡̸̻͇́͠͝+̶̣̂̈́͂,̵̺͙̠͆̉͠£̵̨̍̇̑+̴̲̗̆̊̚-̴̖͉͆̋͠£̸̺͕̆́̋+̷̣̺̪́,̶̼̲̾¤̵̩̾̍̈́+̵̭̣͝,̴̹̹̇̀£̶͓̞͗̕+̶̱̟̼̊-̷͔͔͊£̵̛̱̻+̸̜̹̲̋́+̶̟́̐ͅ£̷̞̀͒,̵̪̉-̵͈̯͎̄͆Ÿ̸̧͚͔͌̃̓-̷͇̓̐-̶͖̭̾ž̴̲̌͌-̵̣̐̒,̵̨̻̟̄͂Ÿ̶͕̋̆͠-̵̱̥̃̐,̸̦̹̮̃̓̚Ÿ̶̞̘̈̅̚,̴̨̤̑͋-̷͇͛ ̴͈̐͜,̷͉̠́̂̕-̶̼̺̔͋ ̷̟̘͔́-̵̥̝̄-̴̻͈̩̋̎ ̵̠̮̭̃͘,̴̢͍̆-̵̟͈͍͐¡̶̝͇̤͐-̵̣͗-̴̩͉̂̏͝ž̷̨͖̕-̵̼̞̬̚¡̸̞̔͌̈̋̓͆͘-̸̝̱̠̼̻͎͕́-̴̢͎̘̩̙̊̄̑͌̓̒͠ž̴̰̩̫̿-̶̧͎͒̑͐̆̇̈́͜,̷̘̪̞̈́̚ ̷̻͉͐̈͊-̷͚̏̍̿͂͘-̵̪̬͒̚Ỵ̶̘̯̩̩̻̈̒̋̑̃ ̶̛͈͖̤͙̽͆̇̋͝ž̵͖̺̜̃̒̐̏̿͘-̷̧͕̰̪̭̿̄̀̃͜ ̴̴̨̠̱͉̪̥̭̯̰̘̓͗̈́̈́͆͐̇̂͘͜͝͠͝-̴̓̏͂̊͌͠ͅŸ̵͚͙͚̀͒̆͋̀̃̚ž̸̸̨͙͙̗̩̯̬̙͖̋̈̑̐̇͐̈͆̈́̊̕͝͠ž̶̝̯̖͝+̸̛̫̥̏̅̓Ÿ̷̳̳͈̲͑̓̓͝Ÿ̶̶̡͙̫̤̻̟̬̟̘͉̼̋̅͛̊͂̽̽͌̆͆́͗Ÿ̶̨̠̠͇̤̞̒͜Ÿ̵̟̀͑͒̑͋͘͜ẕ̶̻̮̲̹͖̘̌̃̃̌̍̒͛̑+̷̡̥̅̿̐̈͠¡̸̶̢̢̩̹̥̟̺̦̱͙̼͚͒̂̓+̷̡̰̻̝͒ ̶̧͚̺̱͓̆͒͗̎Ÿ̷̉́ͅ+̵͙̩̪͐̐̋ ̵̡̰̳͔̫͚͑ž̶̡͖̣̙͍͌̑̆̍͗̚+̴̪̂́̐̏̕Ÿ̴̞̘̤͎̳͈̙̈+̸̶̡̧͕̗̤̣̩͇̼̩̬̝͇̃͑̎̈̉̔͆͐͆̊͗́Ÿ̶̯̠̞̪̇̃͜ͅž̸̛̜̟̻̬͉͂͋̋̽ž̴̡͇͉̯͛̐̊̏ͅŸ̴͔̪̫͚̘͎̀̃̆ž̶̥̱̩͋ž̵̢̘̬͈̖̀̈́͆̓̑̚̚͜+̶̥̦̪̭͑̍̈̋̾͛͜ͅ+̷̢͔̺̝̳̦̔̓̉̎͂̕͠ͅŸ̶̧̢̠̞͉̥̳̂̑,̷̝̣͔̣̙̈́+̵̹̼̤̤̀̑͝Ÿ̵̲̖͕̀͑̓̒̂͊̕+̵̭͚̮̖͓̃̊̂͜+̸̦̰͍̏͒ͅ ̸͚͚̬̯͓̑̍̈́̀͘ͅ+̵̲͑̉̓+̵̢̟̌̎́̽̈́͒̄¡̴̪̱͍̩͒̆̄͆+̶̧͉͓̯͂+̸̟̎͌ ̸̲̂̂̎̈́̈͋͠ÿ̸̪͔̭̗̚+̵̼̪͇͒}̶̛̖̰̫̆̋̏͂̀́ ̵̲̌̀̄͆͊̈́+̸̦͂+̵̦̤̉̅̓̍ ̶̻͊̑̅́̈́͘+̴̩͉̘̖͉̋ͅ,̶̢̢͖͔̜̋£̵̲̹̤͔̜̍͑̀̎͜+̵̛̱̠̏̇̊̂̓͠+̶̤͍̼̳̖̘̰̓͂̒͝¢̷̡̩̮̔̾́͋̌͌+̶̯̮͉̯͐̓̽̉̅̌͜ͅ+̵͈̟͙̱̙̃̀̀͜͜¡̶̪̱̮͎̔̍̾͝͝+̴̧̬̣̀̐̓͌̉̾͗,̴̖̳͈͔̖̈́͆£̵̧̛̯̱̓͂̽͝+̵̛̖̐̄͝͠,̵̻̰͋̑«̶̩̣͎͔̫̔̒̀̑̑̀͘͜͜ ̸̕͜͝ž̶͚̪̲͙̟̌͊͊̇͊͝´̴̦͇̘̻̼̊+̴̨̰̯̜́̔̑̈́̚+̵̧̘̫̝̑̈́̿͘͝°̴͕̻̾̈́̋͒+̷͈͈͚͈͓̀̎̓,̶̪̹̠̤͎̀̍͒̃̑͜©̶͓̅̉͝+̵̜͇̎̋̒͝+̴̡̮͓̪̱̮̿̀͊̂£̴̖̬̹̗͍̀+̶͍͆+̶͎̯̄̒͝£̵̡̥͍̮̫͖̬̌̎+̵̰̃͑̾̾̽̇͜ͅ+̸͉͈̠͖̒̑͗̇̎̌̈́¢̸͚̝͕̳̭̄͜+̶͙̠̌̈̊̀̒̿͘+̵͓̌̾̈́̇͝¡̸̡̘͔̝͋̄̃̎̎͂͝ͅ+̸͔̦̲́̒͛+̴̛̣̟̬̹̈́̒͑¡̷̡̪̪̱̲̘͍̚͝*̴̼̗͍͑̔̓̕*̵̢̡̝̖̠̬̠̚ ̵͕̜̠͎̾͐́͗̃͘*̵̛̯̗͚͓͗̃̊̐͛̕+̸͔͋ ̷̡͖̳͓̯͖̍̀̅̀̚+̵͓͕̘̥̘̲͒̃͘͠+̴̳̳̦̙̫͒̔̂͐͝¡̸̣̜̜̫͇̈́̏̉̃̏͋͐͜*̷̪͍͙͐̆͂̆̔+̶͈̘̫͚̩͍̀̀̋¡̴̹̭̳̻̓͘̚+̶͎͙̘́̒͜+̶̬́¡̸̬̪̮͉̫̞̓͛͆̐͘*̷̢̧̩͖̗̙̝̑̒̃̄͝+̵̛̮͎̬̙̑͘͜¡̷̠̚̕+̴̨̱̯͛)̸̟͉͖̾̒̌͆+̶̳̳̪̥͔͈͒̽̉͑̅͝+̷̥̰͗͐̾̋̒͛̾̔̇̏͒͂̈̈́͠¡̴̳̝͂̀͒́̌́̈́+̶̳̺̟̳̩̮̺͎̞̤̬̬͕̈́̔͌̽͘ͅ+̴̙̱̥͚̍̓̈́͗̿̊̇̀̓̀͌̚͠͝¡̸̡̛̙͖̟̜̥̙̮̇̄̈́̽̽̒̓͂̂͗̔̓*̸̢͔̤̱̪̭̩̣̱̦̞͚̞͓̩̍̅͂̍̅̚*̷͕̌̀̐̇̈́̈́ͅ ̴̨̡̟̤͖͎̠̠͇̀̀͋̅̽͑̿́͂̕͜*̵̥̺̬͎̥͛̈́̇̑͊̄̊̀̇̎̃̽̚̚+̵̢̩̗͕̮̬̥̳͔͍̹̎̈́̉̅̕̕ ̸̭̺͚͎̔͋̔͆̀́̔͗͝ͅ+̴̘̫̣͎̹̗͎̳̠̠̙͕̓͊̎̓̈́͆͗̎̌̎̄̅͜ͅ+̷̧̬̗̜͓͂̈́́́̍̂͒̎͑̽̚͝¡̷̡̧̨̝̗̲͎͉͍̱̺̍*̵̧̡͖̻̟̠̤͍̉̓̔̀̐̕͠͝+̵̛͉̖̻̠̻͈̻̩̭͕͖͎͚̔͌̈̐͛̓̾̊̉̎͐̎ͅ¡̶̭͌̔̈͋+̴͍̠̞͌+̶͍͔̺̦̣̮͎͈̌͌̀͒̏͋̈̀͜¡̸̭̒́͗̓͗̌̾͘̕͝*̴̳̮̹͓͕͈̂͆͛̏̚+̸̛̠̍́̀͛́͗͆̏̑̏͝¡̷̡̣̪̻͋+̶̡̥̹̣̪̙̈́͒̀́̏̄͐͗̕͠͝)̶̛̥̬̟̆̔͋͗̅̕͘£̷̞͇̎͐̾̾̈́͐͛̾͘͠*̸̨̢̭̘̬̟̠̮͇̺́̂͋͜͠+̷̖̤̫̩̟͎̳͓̻̦̖̺͍̞͓͐̒̿͋͑̈́̿̍̒͛͘¡̶̮͕̎̊̒̊͗͜͠+̸̨̢̼͍̳͙̥̜̦̗͇̲͇͐+̴̹̗̯͈̲͖̲̥̿͋̍̔̾̍̓͝¡̵̻̔̆͋͋̍͛͋͛+̴͕̩͍̰͍͈̻̲̩̦́̓̒́̐̉̕̚+̶̖͉͚̣̻̦̮̳͉̘̉̀̍̎͊͐͛͋͂̃͐̂͝¡̵̢̦͙̪̹̫̮͔͓̳̫̇̿+̵̻̱̻̃̇̄̓͒̅͒͗̾̓̾͠+̵̧͕̰͎̰̭̘͕̯͖͓̲̋̈́̆̈̓̆̔ͅ ̸͚̟̬̤̲̰͓̯̞̈́̕*̵̢̝̼̳̼̼̮̰̪̥̂̇̊̀̒̅̃͗̿̈́̈́̈̔̽̾+̶̤̗̟͚̬̅͆͊̽͊͝¢̵̛̮̿͌̊͌̍̀̀͛̃͝͝ͅ*̶̡̡̨̨͍̲̬̪̝͚͉̈́̃̓͒͘͘͝+̴̢̛̹̝̥͐̊͑͊̆̐̌̍̃͌̆͗͜͝¢̴̛͔͙̌͊̈́͊̇̇̾̐͐*̷̧͚̲̱̹̥͙̦̫͎̱̹̺͎̲̍̿̌͒̏̍̆̈́̒̾͒̋*̸̛̻̩̱̝͔̊̓̒̽͐͛̏̌͒́͑̿͝ͅ¡̵̩̫͕̠̦̥̯̠͚̔͑̂̽͛͗̿̂͗͜ͅ*̷̧͔̯̳͓̬͓͖̟͊̏̔́͗̊̓͑*̷̨̩̰̞̫͎̰̩̄̓̈́͂͝ ̶̧̘͕̹͕̪̈́̑+̴̯̹̮͙͙̞͎̪̈́+̴̡̨̢̨̭̬͇̙̟̳͇̘̖̬̟̿¡̵̛̹̫̗̝͈͓̜̝̝͎̪̥̋̔̇̈́͝͝+̵̼̗͈̬̝͙̺̹̭͕̟̀̓̓*̵̹̞͖̭̹͉̥̜͋̊̅̐̀͗̒̏͊̔¡̷̲̱͖̜͔̘͈̘̮̩̠̂̃͌͒̀̊́̈́̈́+̴̹̳̊͌͋̒͊̈́̈̄̏́͋͘̚͠+̵̢͖̠̼͈̼̩͖̠͈̩̺̑͑̋͑̽̔͘̕ͅͅ¢̶̱̬̘͔̭̱͓̰͙̖̫̈́̎̈́̚*̴̧̳̝͙͕̘͙͕͖̻̅̀͝ͅ,̴͖͙̻͓̪̄͛̒̔̀̕¡̷͍̭̞̗̐̋̒̈́̃͐̆́̀̓*̴̳̣͇̱̠̇͊͋̈́̽͆͝+̶̤̗͌̀́¡̴̱͍̩̬̥̙̕͜*̷͇́͑͑̾̓̓̌́̽̾͗̓̀̕͝ͅ)̸̢̛̘̪̹̬͖̱̱̲̼̝̻͂͗̏̀̀̊̆̐͆͛̓̈͆͝ͅ ̴̡̙̲̦̙̩̩̝͎͎͎͈̼͐̒͋̔̾͋͗͋̑̌̐͋̕͝ͅ*̶̡̛̛̻̠͉̼͚̯͇͍̰̀͐̈́͒̌̚͜͝,̷̧̱̣̼̫͓̭̜̘̳̀͛̌̅͐̿͊͠͠ ̴̧̧̙͖͍͉̙̹̬̯̖̹̩̉̆̎+̵̛̦̺̻̲̖̖̼̳̜̪̟̎̓͌̑͗̉͊͗̐̂̌̏̕͜͠+̵̡̳̝͚̳̲̫̃́̀̌͊̓̄̀̾̄̕͠͝¡̴̝͖̹̫̟͔̪̗͉͉͔̼̻̯̗̃̾͑¢̴̧̼͔̤͇͖̘̖͙̩̬̲̒̈̌̔͑£̵̢̡̛͉̩̻̍͌̍̈́͌̇̾͒̾̋͂̐̕·̶͕̅̉͌́͑͐̚̚̕
somewhere amid the haze, she spots a figure. she
[throwing axe]
throwing axe
[10048 -- Axe in Thigh -- 8 damage
(Thrown Axe)]
She glances around. Izar converses with the boy from 12 and Riven, the girl with no leg
The crust crunches like bone beneath her teeth, the cream is thick and oversaturated. She isn't surprised - this is the Capitol after all, they've never been able to do anything without excess. The tart she had nibbled at had fruits drowning in syrup, glistening as the sun blinked through the white roses. The mini cake was filed with white chocolate ganache instead of carbs, the sugar hitting her like a brick and the raspberry compote on top fought with her canker sore. She sighs, and places her hands in her lap. Gabby would have attacked this pile of food like she stabbed at Molly, sliced at Raven and
She washes down her napoleon with her cup of matcha, but it feels wrong as it coats her throat - cloying, overly sweet - a bitter t̸a̸n̶g̴ in the aftertaste and she blinks once. Twice. Her heart rate begins to thump and she quickly rises from the table, making move to leave. Something isn't right; they've poisoned the tea. She knew she shouldn't have drank it, but is the Capitol planning on killing them all slowly? Have they simply poisoned some and not others? Are they all going to go mad? A Mad Tea Party (she almost scoffs, if she weren't so obvious, she so furious).
As she strides out of the garden the bellop that chased after her the moment she and Tamron landed with a thump on the ground, noot noot in one hand and a hanglider on the other, spitting out her axes. Swiftly (but not swift enough, her hand bangs against its side and she reassures it with a gentle caress, a quick scratch on the back of its head) she grabs the weapons, and walks. The edges of her vision begin to fade and she dashes, away from those who'll take this opportunity with a blade and a bow, away from the house that seems to swivel, staring at her with unblinking windows as she goes.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe i̶n̸, breathe o̶͔͖̣̞̓̈͝ù̵̦̣͕̔t̴̓́͜ her heart is running as quickly as she is but her breath is shallow, her power is fading and everything that she's taught to the arrogant pupils in Two, everything that her father's even said to her flies out the window as the world turns rainbow and swirls around her mind, the whales that follow her shrinking and enlarging and black ink leaking from her tattoos and caressing her wrist, the smell of iron wafting towards her nose.
Time passes, hours or days or years. The world halted and rewound itself back to when Molly was alive, her thigh squirting out blood and her scream piercing Anise's eardrums, teeth coated in r̶u̵b̸i̵e̷s̸ and eyes c̴͕̬̙̜̘̎͆ŕ̸̭͚͉̈́̽͝ÿ̸̥̥͖͍́͠ͅi̸̞̟̲͈͌̂̇͑͘͜ǹ̷̨̹̺̖̞̳̪g̴̨͇̻̣͖̱͠ ̷̱͙̙̓̋̈͐͛r̷̻̭͘i̸̘̥̰͎͕̇v̶̠͔̠̇e̴̪̳̫͔̜̜͌̉̓r̶̮̥̿͘ş̵̨̙̩̲̜̙̑͐͐̑͘ ̴̭̫͓̖̃̑͌̆̒̈ but her feet aren't wet so she can't be at the salt flats. Raven's cackle turns into a sob akin to Anise's own, and her mouth grows a h̷u̴n̸d̷r̶e̵d̴ ̷s̷i̷z̴e̵s̵ ̵l̶a̴r̸g̶e̵ ̵a̶n̶d̸ ̶s̸w̷a̴l̷l̸o̵w̵s̵ ̷h̵e̷r̶ ̴w̶h̵o̷l̶e̷ ̵a̸s̶ ̶t̷h̵e̶ ̵g̵r̷o̴u̷n̷d̶ ̷b̴e̵n̴e̸a̷t̸h̷ ̴h̷e̵r̸ ̴f̸e̷e̴t̸ ̵d̶i̸s̸a̸p̴p̶e̴a̸r̶s̴ ̸a̶n̵d̸ ̴s̶h̶e̴'̵s̸ ̴f̴ ̸a̸ ̷l̶ ̶l̶ ̵i̵ ̸n̴ ̵g̴ back through the earth except this time there's no golden eyed girl to hold her hand as she goes.
The earth shakes and she remembers that her feet never left the ground. World momentarily paused, she continues with shaky breaths and a sore throat. She doesn't like this. When she tells her mind to stop wandering it turns into a race, when she tells her lungs to breathe they contract instead, releasing a hiccup that turns into a giggle that turns into a laugh and the grinding of teeth so severe that she's splitting the universe in two. Alive and dead.
Her knees quake, and she falls into a heap, through the rabbit hole but never in. If she closes her eyes the red is still there, ̵͔͔͋̆̆͜ḯ̶̡̖͓͇͠ͅn̶͔̎͑̓̽͘v̷̜̠̼̦̂̂̎͝a̶̛̜̱͍̯͊͆̒͘d̴̨̞̟̣̟͗̈́i̵̮̪͘͜n̴͇̱̞̤͈̽ģ̴͂̈́ ̷̛͚͚̫͉͉̽͑́̔h̷͇̪͒̀̏͑̅͜è̸͖̄̃̈͝ŗ̶͇͔̯͍̆͐͋ ̴̨̲̙̿͊m̶̢̘̕ḯ̶̥̗̳͉̈́̽ǹ̸̨̙͇͈͑̿̑̀d̵͓̮̫̈ and seeping into her fingernails, painting over her thumbprints. Her intestines curl inside out and back again, hair grows to by miles and shrinks back into her head. I'm going insane. For the first time in decades, she feels lava cooling on her cheeks and covers her face, knowing someone out there must be watching this breakdown with glee, agony, sponsors tucking their money back into their wallets as the robot's finally s h u t d o w n, whether through a fork bomb or a fatal error, r m - r f /
She can sense Molly and Raven staring down at her, arms crossed and gaze unfeeling. Their pupils embed themselves into her corneas. In this mess all she wants is for it to be over, for a girl who's been through hell and back again and who's stuck more needles in her arm than some doctors have in their lives to sit by her, ̵̬̟̄t̶̼́̋̀ȍ̶͔͈ ̴̻̳͋̕ẗ̷͚̪̐̚ẻ̸̥̌̌ḽ̶̛̲̊̈́l̶͍͉̻̽ ̶̹̑ḧ̸̲́e̴̬̔̀̕r̴̩̭̈͜ ̷̮͆ĥ̵͚̱̎ö̴͕̤́͂ẁ̸̗̦ ̶̙̍̂t̵̗̀̇ò̵̟̫̈͠ ̸͔͕͍͑̈́͝g̵̪͠ȇ̵͔ẗ̵̗͈͖́̀̔ ̴̹͒͒t̷̖̺͒͊̉h̷͔̩̅́ȓ̶̳̲̺̀o̸͔̟̅u̴̘͈̎͛͜ǵ̷̡̲͇̍̉ḩ̵͒̈́ ̴̙̹̇̆ţ̶͉͛h̷̞̐̈̕i̴̳͔͈̚s̴̖͆͑.̴͙͈̓̆͝ ̴̟̍̉B̶̪͓̆u̵̩̤͑t̷̰͇̦̀̈́̎ ̶͇̥̌ẙ̴̢̕ọ̶͉̪̉ṵ̴̢͉̐ ̵̬͎̥́c̴̢͒̓ả̶͓̘̯̈́̏ṅ̴̰͇̄̌'̵͙̆ť̸͓ ̷̭̳̀̉̽w̸̜̩̭̽̅i̵̹̊̃͘s̴̱̠̅̐̌͜h̸͖͈͗͒̑ ̴̬̍̓t̵̟̮͉̽̀̚ḥ̵̟̿͐̐͜e̸̲͈͓̿͌ ̸͚̙̑d̶͎̘͐̃̇e̴͎̐͠a̵͙͋́d̴̝̼͗͒͋ ̶̩̰̪̐b̵̧̦̓̀̑͜a̸̡̯͙͠ć̴̩̆̈́k̶̗̬͎͐̊̕ ̶̝͗̚t̴͈̀̚o̶̧̊̄̄ ̶̞̏͝ḷ̶̥̎̾̏i̷̡̘̐͠f̴̛͚̹̳̒͆ȇ̵̜̮̃ ¤HÔ¦K¥:©<»¥;¼¤:¦9¿¨:¸¤=¸¢@·Ÿ:±)9¯*9±*9)7µ*6®)9ª*9±*5*6®*7¬)4±*:µ*ÿ¯*^°):·+8º+?º É°žL´*r±*’· d¸ž>À¡5Ó¤0Ó¤6ͤ1Ô«0Úª0Ó¨1Ù¨/Ù¦.Ô¤/Ú¦0…¦3æ¤2‡¥1o®1è«3[¯/T´0b±0[´,W·.W±,T·-M½.Oº-Q¹.K¾.J¼4R±3O¯;\†¿̷©̷©̸¤̴¦̸¹̸̷̴9̶P̶´̴/̵K̶À̴F̸W̵±̶©̵¤̴̴¤̵¢̴̴¾̵·̵¯̶Ï̵À̵±̶Ç̴»̵²̴Ê̶º̵̷Y̵Ð̵̵G̷_̴®̵G̷`̷µ̵L̴`̸¸̶>̷N̶¸̷=̴N̴º̶?̷N̶¸̵G̶S̵¶̴E̸P̸¸̷L̶Y̸¶̷k̷Ë̴¶̸Ð̵¿̴µ̴²̸«̵²̸ž̵ž̴«̸)̴*̵¦̶̴(̸*̵¢̶(̶*̸¡̵)̴*̸*̸(̶*̴¢̷(̵(̶£̵(̷(̵¡̸(̷(̶¡̴(̴(̴Ÿ̶(̴(̸ ̴)̷(̵Ÿ̵(̴)̴ ̴(̸)̶ ̴(̴(̶ ̵(̵)̴Ÿ̴(̸(̸¡̸(̷(̴¤̷(̴)̴¢̶(̴)̶¢̷(̵*̴£̷)̵)̷¦̵)̷*̷«̸*̸)̴¾̴¡̴ ̴-̷-̸.̵.̴-̴§̸²̵.̴¯̷¾̴.̵©̴µ̵.̶£̴±̴-̴¯̶½̶.̴®̴º̵.̵«̶¸̴.̵®̴º̶.̸²̶½̷.̸»̸Ä̸.̷¾̴Á̴.̶Á̷¿̵.̵¶̷¿̴.̸³̵¼̴.̷¢̴§̶ü̷.̸/̴Ÿ̷.̵ ̴£̶.̵²̵¶̵.̵¶̷º̸-̴±̴¼̷,̴£̷±̷-̴ ̸̵,̵¡̴ª̷-̶§̴µ̶-̶®̶º̴,̶»̶,̵·̴¿̵,̶½̴Ḛ̴́̄̈-̸̬̦̉̊͝È̷̺̤̓͛É̷̘̃͜-̷̲͛͝Ì̵̙̈Ò̷̥̖̯̓̅-̵̡̫̯̓͆½̷̹͓̅̆͜Æ̷͙͋̈́̐,̵̖̝͎͗̏°̶̶̬̞̠̑͗͗º̶̠̐̑̍,̵̖̄ ̴̼̣͂̾ͅª̴̙̱̻́̆̊,̶̝̍̈́,̴̳̘̄̃£̴̭̩̗̉̍̈́-̵̨͖̭̾̂̋-̵̙̑̀¨̴͓͉̒͌-̸͇̙͐͝,̵̥̘́¤̴̛̭̠̐̈́-̸̫̿¡̵͚̋͒¯̵̪̑-̷̧̞͋̉¬̷̺̾¹̵͙̞̪͛-̴̺̊̽͌¢̴͔͌̋̕±̷͔͊-̷̢̺̼̀́́ ̷̧̺̯̑̽¬̴͖͛͠-̶̝͋̍͜¦̸͚͗̂͜·̸̺̽͋͠-̵̪͉͔͋¢̶̬͇̓̉͌³̷̢͓̈́͜-̵͙̪͝ž̶̩͔͝®̵̮̤̊̚-̷̘͚̘͑͂Ÿ̵̰́̕¯̶̤̱̻̊̽͠,̵̜̳̓ ̵͙̤̔®̷̹͘,̸̦̓¡̷͈̘̐̍®̵͙̭͚̾,̸̶̦̣̓͂̽̌̑«̸̜̦͜͝,̶̟͓͙̄̽̅-̵̼͇͗̒£̶̈́̾͜,̶̯̖̀̈̄͜-̸̟̲̺͆£̸͚͂̽̆ͅ,̶̫͐̾͊-̶̘̫͖͛̎©̸͇͗-̵͓̟͙̂͠ž̶͓̘̾̒̍«̷̙̒̎-̵̼͗̀Ÿ̶̼̘̠̊¯̷͎̫̌,̷̟͛͠,̴̞͇̋¦̷̧͈́̓̈-̸͚̜̠̋,̷̖̣̽̒̍ž̵̟̗͘,̷͎̠̳̽-̵͖̘̈́͌-̸̦̝͐͂ ̶̞͓͕̿̌́+̷̨̩̼̀,̸͚̻͆͑¡̶͚͔̏̊-̶̬̗͐͘-̵̖́ͅž̴͈͑̽+̵̤̦̀̽̊͜-̴̻̹̂̈́ž̵͇̗̻̌̓-̷̨͗̔̎,̵̷̣͔̪̫̀͗̋͛̊-̷̖̹̅ž̵͔͍̪̌̅̔-̷̣͍̐̄̿,̵͖̺̃-̶̜̓-̷̣̭̐,̴̪̌,̸͉͎̋̄ͅž̵̪̠̎́+̷̖͉̑̀,̸̘̏̑ͅŸ̶̹̮̇͑͝+̵̠͠,̷̩͕̔͠¡̶̪̳̎+̴͍͚̱̒͌-̶̣̝̐͗̆¢̷̱͑̉ͅ+̵͚̲͚͛̋̓,̷̲̪̿̈́͠£̸͚̀,̶̰̥͚̌̕͝,̴̮̇͐͠¢̷͓̉͊+̷̖̦̗̾̚-̶̜̮̦͆¢̵̭̓+̸͓̊̆,̶̪̟̀̕£̷̖̑͂̉+̸̘͗͠+̴̻̅¤̷͉͓͐̌̋+̸̨̇+̷̩̻͍͊̊¤̴̢̨̖̏+̸̨̭̊+̴̝̉̀̀¤̸̛̘̇̎+̸̙̺̻̈́̈́-̶̪̮́¤̷͚̮̆͐+̸̰̲̭͒͘-̴̨̗̀̃¤̴̴̡̢̭̱̭̖̽̾͋͠+̸̨̗͔̀̉,̴̭̋̍̈¢̴̲͐̉͝+̶͙̉͜,̶͎͕̾̕¡̸̻͚̄̈̿ͅ,̷̜̞̳͒̆̕,̷͕̪̼̑̚ ̵̨̮̺̈́̀+̶̳͈͓͠͠,̴̣̦̰̿̉͝ž̸͕̱̱̋͒̾+̵̨̋͗̓-̶̛̆͜Ÿ̷̞͎̿̓-̸̸̛̠̺̱̣̃̐͝-̸͔͕̎̆,̴̡̱͙͌̅͗+̴̗̖̅̄̓,̶̖͑̈¡̷̫̲̙͒̀͂+̵̼͇́̐̚-̷̘̳̔͒¢̴͖̣̹̒̄+̶̢̀,̷̣̒͌̾£̶̯̫͑̕+̴̖̘͋̚-̶̥̯̟̒¤̵͇̪̜̅̓+̸̰̭̚,̸̽̏̏ͅ£̷̧̱̝͆͌+̴͍̰̓͊-̵̳̋̐͠¤̷̭͗͌͋+̸̲̾͌-̴̫̼͛̈́ͅ¡̸̳̿̅+̸̟̮̽,̴͈̄̔͐¡̸̻͇́͠͝+̶̣̂̈́͂,̵̺͙̠͆̉͠£̵̨̍̇̑+̴̲̗̆̊̚-̴̖͉͆̋͠£̸̺͕̆́̋+̷̣̺̪́,̶̼̲̾¤̵̩̾̍̈́+̵̭̣͝,̴̹̹̇̀£̶͓̞͗̕+̶̱̟̼̊-̷͔͔͊£̵̛̱̻+̸̜̹̲̋́+̶̟́̐ͅ£̷̞̀͒,̵̪̉-̵͈̯͎̄͆Ÿ̸̧͚͔͌̃̓-̷͇̓̐-̶͖̭̾ž̴̲̌͌-̵̣̐̒,̵̨̻̟̄͂Ÿ̶͕̋̆͠-̵̱̥̃̐,̸̦̹̮̃̓̚Ÿ̶̞̘̈̅̚,̴̨̤̑͋-̷͇͛ ̴͈̐͜,̷͉̠́̂̕-̶̼̺̔͋ ̷̟̘͔́-̵̥̝̄-̴̻͈̩̋̎ ̵̠̮̭̃͘,̴̢͍̆-̵̟͈͍͐¡̶̝͇̤͐-̵̣͗-̴̩͉̂̏͝ž̷̨͖̕-̵̼̞̬̚¡̸̞̔͌̈̋̓͆͘-̸̝̱̠̼̻͎͕́-̴̢͎̘̩̙̊̄̑͌̓̒͠ž̴̰̩̫̿-̶̧͎͒̑͐̆̇̈́͜,̷̘̪̞̈́̚ ̷̻͉͐̈͊-̷͚̏̍̿͂͘-̵̪̬͒̚Ỵ̶̘̯̩̩̻̈̒̋̑̃ ̶̛͈͖̤͙̽͆̇̋͝ž̵͖̺̜̃̒̐̏̿͘-̷̧͕̰̪̭̿̄̀̃͜ ̴̴̨̠̱͉̪̥̭̯̰̘̓͗̈́̈́͆͐̇̂͘͜͝͠͝-̴̓̏͂̊͌͠ͅŸ̵͚͙͚̀͒̆͋̀̃̚ž̸̸̨͙͙̗̩̯̬̙͖̋̈̑̐̇͐̈͆̈́̊̕͝͠ž̶̝̯̖͝+̸̛̫̥̏̅̓Ÿ̷̳̳͈̲͑̓̓͝Ÿ̶̶̡͙̫̤̻̟̬̟̘͉̼̋̅͛̊͂̽̽͌̆͆́͗Ÿ̶̨̠̠͇̤̞̒͜Ÿ̵̟̀͑͒̑͋͘͜ẕ̶̻̮̲̹͖̘̌̃̃̌̍̒͛̑+̷̡̥̅̿̐̈͠¡̸̶̢̢̩̹̥̟̺̦̱͙̼͚͒̂̓+̷̡̰̻̝͒ ̶̧͚̺̱͓̆͒͗̎Ÿ̷̉́ͅ+̵͙̩̪͐̐̋ ̵̡̰̳͔̫͚͑ž̶̡͖̣̙͍͌̑̆̍͗̚+̴̪̂́̐̏̕Ÿ̴̞̘̤͎̳͈̙̈+̸̶̡̧͕̗̤̣̩͇̼̩̬̝͇̃͑̎̈̉̔͆͐͆̊͗́Ÿ̶̯̠̞̪̇̃͜ͅž̸̛̜̟̻̬͉͂͋̋̽ž̴̡͇͉̯͛̐̊̏ͅŸ̴͔̪̫͚̘͎̀̃̆ž̶̥̱̩͋ž̵̢̘̬͈̖̀̈́͆̓̑̚̚͜+̶̥̦̪̭͑̍̈̋̾͛͜ͅ+̷̢͔̺̝̳̦̔̓̉̎͂̕͠ͅŸ̶̧̢̠̞͉̥̳̂̑,̷̝̣͔̣̙̈́+̵̹̼̤̤̀̑͝Ÿ̵̲̖͕̀͑̓̒̂͊̕+̵̭͚̮̖͓̃̊̂͜+̸̦̰͍̏͒ͅ ̸͚͚̬̯͓̑̍̈́̀͘ͅ+̵̲͑̉̓+̵̢̟̌̎́̽̈́͒̄¡̴̪̱͍̩͒̆̄͆+̶̧͉͓̯͂+̸̟̎͌ ̸̲̂̂̎̈́̈͋͠ÿ̸̪͔̭̗̚+̵̼̪͇͒}̶̛̖̰̫̆̋̏͂̀́ ̵̲̌̀̄͆͊̈́+̸̦͂+̵̦̤̉̅̓̍ ̶̻͊̑̅́̈́͘+̴̩͉̘̖͉̋ͅ,̶̢̢͖͔̜̋£̵̲̹̤͔̜̍͑̀̎͜+̵̛̱̠̏̇̊̂̓͠+̶̤͍̼̳̖̘̰̓͂̒͝¢̷̡̩̮̔̾́͋̌͌+̶̯̮͉̯͐̓̽̉̅̌͜ͅ+̵͈̟͙̱̙̃̀̀͜͜¡̶̪̱̮͎̔̍̾͝͝+̴̧̬̣̀̐̓͌̉̾͗,̴̖̳͈͔̖̈́͆£̵̧̛̯̱̓͂̽͝+̵̛̖̐̄͝͠,̵̻̰͋̑«̶̩̣͎͔̫̔̒̀̑̑̀͘͜͜ ̸̕͜͝ž̶͚̪̲͙̟̌͊͊̇͊͝´̴̦͇̘̻̼̊+̴̨̰̯̜́̔̑̈́̚+̵̧̘̫̝̑̈́̿͘͝°̴͕̻̾̈́̋͒+̷͈͈͚͈͓̀̎̓,̶̪̹̠̤͎̀̍͒̃̑͜©̶͓̅̉͝+̵̜͇̎̋̒͝+̴̡̮͓̪̱̮̿̀͊̂£̴̖̬̹̗͍̀+̶͍͆+̶͎̯̄̒͝£̵̡̥͍̮̫͖̬̌̎+̵̰̃͑̾̾̽̇͜ͅ+̸͉͈̠͖̒̑͗̇̎̌̈́¢̸͚̝͕̳̭̄͜+̶͙̠̌̈̊̀̒̿͘+̵͓̌̾̈́̇͝¡̸̡̘͔̝͋̄̃̎̎͂͝ͅ+̸͔̦̲́̒͛+̴̛̣̟̬̹̈́̒͑¡̷̡̪̪̱̲̘͍̚͝*̴̼̗͍͑̔̓̕*̵̢̡̝̖̠̬̠̚ ̵͕̜̠͎̾͐́͗̃͘*̵̛̯̗͚͓͗̃̊̐͛̕+̸͔͋ ̷̡͖̳͓̯͖̍̀̅̀̚+̵͓͕̘̥̘̲͒̃͘͠+̴̳̳̦̙̫͒̔̂͐͝¡̸̣̜̜̫͇̈́̏̉̃̏͋͐͜*̷̪͍͙͐̆͂̆̔+̶͈̘̫͚̩͍̀̀̋¡̴̹̭̳̻̓͘̚+̶͎͙̘́̒͜+̶̬́¡̸̬̪̮͉̫̞̓͛͆̐͘*̷̢̧̩͖̗̙̝̑̒̃̄͝+̵̛̮͎̬̙̑͘͜¡̷̠̚̕+̴̨̱̯͛)̸̟͉͖̾̒̌͆+̶̳̳̪̥͔͈͒̽̉͑̅͝+̷̥̰͗͐̾̋̒͛̾̔̇̏͒͂̈̈́͠¡̴̳̝͂̀͒́̌́̈́+̶̳̺̟̳̩̮̺͎̞̤̬̬͕̈́̔͌̽͘ͅ+̴̙̱̥͚̍̓̈́͗̿̊̇̀̓̀͌̚͠͝¡̸̡̛̙͖̟̜̥̙̮̇̄̈́̽̽̒̓͂̂͗̔̓*̸̢͔̤̱̪̭̩̣̱̦̞͚̞͓̩̍̅͂̍̅̚*̷͕̌̀̐̇̈́̈́ͅ ̴̨̡̟̤͖͎̠̠͇̀̀͋̅̽͑̿́͂̕͜*̵̥̺̬͎̥͛̈́̇̑͊̄̊̀̇̎̃̽̚̚+̵̢̩̗͕̮̬̥̳͔͍̹̎̈́̉̅̕̕ ̸̭̺͚͎̔͋̔͆̀́̔͗͝ͅ+̴̘̫̣͎̹̗͎̳̠̠̙͕̓͊̎̓̈́͆͗̎̌̎̄̅͜ͅ+̷̧̬̗̜͓͂̈́́́̍̂͒̎͑̽̚͝¡̷̡̧̨̝̗̲͎͉͍̱̺̍*̵̧̡͖̻̟̠̤͍̉̓̔̀̐̕͠͝+̵̛͉̖̻̠̻͈̻̩̭͕͖͎͚̔͌̈̐͛̓̾̊̉̎͐̎ͅ¡̶̭͌̔̈͋+̴͍̠̞͌+̶͍͔̺̦̣̮͎͈̌͌̀͒̏͋̈̀͜¡̸̭̒́͗̓͗̌̾͘̕͝*̴̳̮̹͓͕͈̂͆͛̏̚+̸̛̠̍́̀͛́͗͆̏̑̏͝¡̷̡̣̪̻͋+̶̡̥̹̣̪̙̈́͒̀́̏̄͐͗̕͠͝)̶̛̥̬̟̆̔͋͗̅̕͘£̷̞͇̎͐̾̾̈́͐͛̾͘͠*̸̨̢̭̘̬̟̠̮͇̺́̂͋͜͠+̷̖̤̫̩̟͎̳͓̻̦̖̺͍̞͓͐̒̿͋͑̈́̿̍̒͛͘¡̶̮͕̎̊̒̊͗͜͠+̸̨̢̼͍̳͙̥̜̦̗͇̲͇͐+̴̹̗̯͈̲͖̲̥̿͋̍̔̾̍̓͝¡̵̻̔̆͋͋̍͛͋͛+̴͕̩͍̰͍͈̻̲̩̦́̓̒́̐̉̕̚+̶̖͉͚̣̻̦̮̳͉̘̉̀̍̎͊͐͛͋͂̃͐̂͝¡̵̢̦͙̪̹̫̮͔͓̳̫̇̿+̵̻̱̻̃̇̄̓͒̅͒͗̾̓̾͠+̵̧͕̰͎̰̭̘͕̯͖͓̲̋̈́̆̈̓̆̔ͅ ̸͚̟̬̤̲̰͓̯̞̈́̕*̵̢̝̼̳̼̼̮̰̪̥̂̇̊̀̒̅̃͗̿̈́̈́̈̔̽̾+̶̤̗̟͚̬̅͆͊̽͊͝¢̵̛̮̿͌̊͌̍̀̀͛̃͝͝ͅ*̶̡̡̨̨͍̲̬̪̝͚͉̈́̃̓͒͘͘͝+̴̢̛̹̝̥͐̊͑͊̆̐̌̍̃͌̆͗͜͝¢̴̛͔͙̌͊̈́͊̇̇̾̐͐*̷̧͚̲̱̹̥͙̦̫͎̱̹̺͎̲̍̿̌͒̏̍̆̈́̒̾͒̋*̸̛̻̩̱̝͔̊̓̒̽͐͛̏̌͒́͑̿͝ͅ¡̵̩̫͕̠̦̥̯̠͚̔͑̂̽͛͗̿̂͗͜ͅ*̷̧͔̯̳͓̬͓͖̟͊̏̔́͗̊̓͑*̷̨̩̰̞̫͎̰̩̄̓̈́͂͝ ̶̧̘͕̹͕̪̈́̑+̴̯̹̮͙͙̞͎̪̈́+̴̡̨̢̨̭̬͇̙̟̳͇̘̖̬̟̿¡̵̛̹̫̗̝͈͓̜̝̝͎̪̥̋̔̇̈́͝͝+̵̼̗͈̬̝͙̺̹̭͕̟̀̓̓*̵̹̞͖̭̹͉̥̜͋̊̅̐̀͗̒̏͊̔¡̷̲̱͖̜͔̘͈̘̮̩̠̂̃͌͒̀̊́̈́̈́+̴̹̳̊͌͋̒͊̈́̈̄̏́͋͘̚͠+̵̢͖̠̼͈̼̩͖̠͈̩̺̑͑̋͑̽̔͘̕ͅͅ¢̶̱̬̘͔̭̱͓̰͙̖̫̈́̎̈́̚*̴̧̳̝͙͕̘͙͕͖̻̅̀͝ͅ,̴͖͙̻͓̪̄͛̒̔̀̕¡̷͍̭̞̗̐̋̒̈́̃͐̆́̀̓*̴̳̣͇̱̠̇͊͋̈́̽͆͝+̶̤̗͌̀́¡̴̱͍̩̬̥̙̕͜*̷͇́͑͑̾̓̓̌́̽̾͗̓̀̕͝ͅ)̸̢̛̘̪̹̬͖̱̱̲̼̝̻͂͗̏̀̀̊̆̐͆͛̓̈͆͝ͅ ̴̡̙̲̦̙̩̩̝͎͎͎͈̼͐̒͋̔̾͋͗͋̑̌̐͋̕͝ͅ*̶̡̛̛̻̠͉̼͚̯͇͍̰̀͐̈́͒̌̚͜͝,̷̧̱̣̼̫͓̭̜̘̳̀͛̌̅͐̿͊͠͠ ̴̧̧̙͖͍͉̙̹̬̯̖̹̩̉̆̎+̵̛̦̺̻̲̖̖̼̳̜̪̟̎̓͌̑͗̉͊͗̐̂̌̏̕͜͠+̵̡̳̝͚̳̲̫̃́̀̌͊̓̄̀̾̄̕͠͝¡̴̝͖̹̫̟͔̪̗͉͉͔̼̻̯̗̃̾͑¢̴̧̼͔̤͇͖̘̖͙̩̬̲̒̈̌̔͑£̵̢̡̛͉̩̻̍͌̍̈́͌̇̾͒̾̋͂̐̕·̶͕̅̉͌́͑͐̚̚̕
somewhere amid the haze, she spots a figure. she
4TT4CK5(int roll){
if (role == 1) return eva;
elif (role == 2) return anise;
}
LwtydV3N1-2[throwing axe]
throwing axe
[10048 -- Axe in Thigh -- 8 damage
(Thrown Axe)]
1-2�throwing axe·throwing axe