like old friends. { pc vs ss } day four.

He finished pissing on a pile of rocks and found Titus asleep in his boat. Camp was quiet tonight; no drunken conversations to be had, no jokes to be shared, and not a single smile passed between them. Frankly, it was getting boring. After such a long day of trekking through rocks and poking around for resources and that unforgettable chicken fight, Kaiser wanted to lay back and talk about the excitement. Clearly, neither of his allies shared his passion about the Games. It wasn’t unexpected – most people didn’t quite understand his fascination with killing. It was such a common occurrence in their world. Why not enjoy it, or find a way to try?

He sat in their boat and contemplated the day’s events. There was still dissatisfaction settling in his gut like a cramp. The highlight of day three involved watching someone else kill, rather than executing the deed himself. It was certainly entertaining to watch, especially when it was Titus’ swing of vengeance that ended the life of Aline. Payback tasted like a strawberry sundae forged fresh in the Capitol kitchens, sauce running red like the blood from Aline’s skull. Absolutely delicious. However, there was still the nagging fact in his brain that he had not yet claimed a life. It has only been three days, but the Games were not timeless. As a career, he needed to rack up as many kills as possible.

No mercy tomorrow.

Quiet sniffles beside him, it took him a few minutes to realize Titus was crying in his sleep. He couldn’t think of any reason to cry – today had been successful, for the most part. Maybe he was homesick? He could somewhat grasp that concept. Home was where Kaiser had always been. He wasn’t bored of it, but the Games were the opportunity of a lifetime. He wasn’t prepared to return home just yet. There was still so much fun to be had, and so many thrills lying in wait.

He decided not to interrupt Titus and his feels fest. As long as it didn’t hinder that mighty swing of his, he was okay with a few tears.

When Kaiser woke up, he was determined to travel a thousand goddamn miles if it meant finding another group. They leapt from their rock perch and into a rocking boat, waves cradling it safely near the shore. They were setting sail instead of walking. Who knows where they would end up?

The island stayed to their left. Kaiser had no idea how to steer a boat or guide them through ocean waves, but the device seemed to have a mind of its own. He sat with his hand in the water, tasting it and splashing it onto his own face. He had only ever seen the ocean on television - a vast blue expanse famous for its salty water, and damn was it salty. They hadn’t lied about that shit. It also had waves, and Kaiser didn’t know enough about science to know how the water created its own waves. It was cool as hell, and that was all he cared about.

The waters were somehow daunting. It was dark, and nobody knew how deep it reached, so Kaiser didn’t take the dip he wanted to. That definitely didn’t make him afraid or anything. It was simply a high risk at the moment, and he was not in the mood to take it. He instead relaxed until the boat guided them back to the island. They washed up on beds of black sand, toasty under his feet, and he climbed out of the boat to take a good look at it all. He was a brutal career with one goal in mind, but he still had an eye for beauty. He wasn’t blind or artistically challenged; he recognized that this black sandy beach was a spectacle to behold.

He stared at it for a moment, feeling the wind brush his cheeks. Reality had to reel him back in when another group of tributes approached.

Just in time.

He unsheathed his curved blade and glanced at familiar faces. ”Hey there, Lowe. Thanks for all of the medical supplies.” He grinned at his “friend” and fellow victor sibling. That was probably the one thing they had in common, but it was enough steer him away. Why not give her a chance? If they fought later, it would be a legendary battle.

It was kind of funny. They shared their supplies with his alliance, and now he was about to throw the kind deed back into their faces.

”The party’s over now, though.”

No more yachts, alcohol, or friendly fun.

It was time for blood.

[ dars ]

Blood trickling down her shoulder; it wasn’t enough. The curve of his khopesh didn’t sink deep enough to kiss bones and arteries. A disappointing scratch wouldn’t cut it (ha, get it?). His swing needed to be mightier, his angle sharper, and his target less bouncy on the heels. That was the nature of real fighting though – blades clashing and heads ducking to avoid swift attacks. It added a taste of thrill to the mixture, and he gulped it down like a vulture tearing through dead flesh. He was hungry – no, starving for excitement. That excitement happened to be colored red, a fine wine spilling from the human body. It was meant to be enjoyed.

”That party ended a long time ago,” Said Lowe, and she was right. Little did she know he was enjoying a party of his own. A celebration of adrenaline instead of champagne, blades shared rather than laughter and smiles. Now was not the time to fuck around, but he would certainly split some skin with a smile spread across his cheeks.

”We never made promises to keep the peace.”

”A toast to death, then.” He grinned wickedly.

No liquor on his person, he thought of the water sloshing around in his bag. That would be his celebratory drink. Something fresh to wash the sand out of his throat, since it would inevitably be sore after a victory screech.

That was the only way to end today’s battle.

The floor of sand beneath his feet was thick. It was one of those challenges tossed in their direction by sinister Gamemakers – try to fight in this shit, careers! Well yeah, it was the pain in the ass the way his soles didn’t slide correctly in the grains. The different elevations didn’t help either. Such a pain in the ass, but worth every drop of energy.

He heard the other girl speak. ”That wasn’t very nice. You’re ruining my pretty face.”

Kaiser raised an eyebrow. ”Pretty? That’s debatable.”

Just yanking some chains.

That chain had a deadly strike at the end of it – long blade sliding past the edge of his neck with a hot lick. He felt the burn and the warmth that followed, blood pouring out at an alarming rate. A hiss escaped between his teeth. Bitch aimed for the jugular, of course. He ducked away and twirled his blade. Neither the blood nor the pain bothered him for long; it was the payback he wanted. And a death caused by his own hands.

He would sweat for it, he would bleed for it.

And goddamn, he would take it.

[ dars ]

This sand was pissing him off. The grains disrupted his balance, lodging his foot into an unfortunate pouch. There were no crabs to rise from the black depths to snap his ankles, but the texture threw him off and veered his blade into an awkward angle. The result? Another goddamn scratch on this bitch. He mentally cursed at the Gamemakers and their useless landscapes. It wasn't suppose to be a true hindrance.

Whatever. Careers learn fast, so he was prepared to make up for lost time.

He turned to Emberly in time to hear her complaint. “I’m tired of blood," she said. What a whiner. Nobody could ever appreciate the finest tastes in life. She was related to a victor; hadn't rhe family adapted by now? The world was ruled by death, so there was no excuse not to enjoy it.

Kaiser smirked in reponse. ”I’m not.”

Even if it was his own.

And then Ree is bein sarcastic and Kaiser isn’t understanding what he means.

“After all, we all know you have such a great talent in picking out the pretty faces.”
And then Kaiser is like

”Uh, yeah.”

And then he attacc

[ dars ]