two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl // lucas vs shelby
Apr 29, 2017 12:51:00 GMT -5
Post by lance on Apr 29, 2017 12:51:00 GMT -5
LUCAS O'HARA
He woke up that morning with a determined calm raising his spirits and a heavy resignation weighing down his heart.
They're dead. They're all dead.
Once again, he was alone. Once again, he was the improbable last person standing, the one who shouldn't have outlived the others and yet, still had.
He never should have been the last one remaining, not from a district whose representatives included the strong, resolute Zanita Luzell and the pure-hearted, pious Helios Delacroix.
He never should have been the last one standing, not from an alliance that included the rough-edged Lorenzo Ruined, the quiet yet calculating Anton Ladetto, the warm, passionate Eva Hope, the kind, gentle Riven Fowley, and the fiery, wise-beyond-her-years Wylla Lysnder.
And yet, against all odds, he was.
Being the last one that still drew breath from a group of people that had generated the closest thing to friendship that he ever had had in his life was surprisingly lonely.
So he gathered his possessions, took hold of his glittering red spears (which, now that he was gazing upon them in sunlight instead of relative darkness, looked even more vibrant than usual), and set out on a trek.
For minutes or hours he wandered, time becoming irrelevant under the beating sun and the whirling mass of thoughts that stormed within his skull.
He'd always imagined himself going down fighting, perhaps sacrificing himself to allow Wylla or Riven the chance at striking the final blow and achieving victory. Or even on his own, falling to the skilled blade of Cassiopeia or her pretty district partner.
And yes, he'd always imagined himself getting a kill to his name as well. But Riordan Einfallen had hardly been the person he had imagined himself stabbing to death with his dagger, and the trippy illusions that the Gamemakers had subjected him to had hardly conjured an ideal environment in which to achieve said kill.
He'd left them behind - their sponsored portraits, that was. They sat at the base of a tree back in the orchard now, each propped up on either side of a single toy boat.
Wylla's last gift had been too painful for him to hold onto, so he'd left it in a place surrounded by warmth, beauty, and protection.
Besides, if he was to make it out of here, there'd be other ways he could remember her by.
He wasn't sure when he arrived at the mansion for the third time in just over a week, but the bottom line was that he had made it, the shelter of the walls proving to be a welcome barrier against the burning sunlight.
They'd fought Fallon and Tamron here, Wylla and he, and had escaped with an assortment of broken bones and bruised limbs. They'd fought Gabby and her pretty ally and the fisting boy a few days later, this time joined by Riven, and against all odds they had not only defeated the trio of Careers but had done so quickly and decisively, with Riven's spear finding Gabby's throat mere seconds after conflict had been initiated.
Tamron's face had not yet shown in the sky, and neither had the pair of Twos. But Wylla's had, and Riven's had.
His, however, had not.
Time weaved and bent as he wandered aimlessly through the extravagant structure, much like the melting clocks from the orchard, and for the longest time, he came into contact with no other living souls save for a pair of armored spherical muttations who gave him no notice as they rolled up and down the endless staircases.
For better or for worse, it wasn't to last.
He spotted her before she found him, at least he thought. Regardless, it was him that spoke the first words to the last living being that he had forged a connection with within the arena.
"Good to see you're still alive, Shelby," he said, but there was no emotion behind the otherwise positive words.
This was a test, and even if the other didn't know it, he did, for there was exactly one person in the arena that had gained his affection, gained any sort of positive emotion beyond the grudging respect he felt towards Cassie and her female district partner.
And even if their interaction in the training center had escaped Cricket and Hera's knowledge, there was no way that the interaction in this very area two days prior had enjoyed the same luxury.
This was a test, as much for him as for her, a test to prove whether one or the other of them was worthy.
At this point, he would have expected nothing less.
One glittering red spear was chosen at random and separated from its brethren, while the other five took their place at the ground behind his feet. She had a spear, too, blue-green and longer than any of his, which meant charging forward to meet her in close combat would be virtual suicide.
Not that he intended to live in the first place anyway, but he didn't want to go out that quickly.
He sighed, pouring as much regret - genuine, for once, much to his surprise - into his next words.
"I think we both know what has to happen next, though."
He readied his aim. Throwing things with any sort of accuracy had never been within his skillset, but he had managed to hit a far smaller target with far smaller weapons a few days prior, so he didn't see how this should be any different.
"Don't worry, though," he added, voice still flat and hollow.
"This way, you can say it was in self defense."
He threw.
lucas attacks shelby with javelin
jxNa3ZIzjavelin
15002 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
accuracy yo
javelin
15093 -- Block-- 0.0 damage
javelin�javelinjxNa3ZIzjavelin
15002 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
accuracy yo
javelin
15093 -- Block-- 0.0 damage