wrath and ruin {scissor sisters vs children of sorrow}
Oct 21, 2017 15:16:19 GMT -5
Post by lance on Oct 21, 2017 15:16:19 GMT -5
[presto]
[/presto]The full moon, so bright and luminous, sank beyond the horizon that night. Two faces shown across the night sky, one surprising and one she'd expected.
First was the Sullivan girl, relative to some bloodbath death nearly a decade and a half ago. Though her reputation had appeared damning, the girl herself had been of that tough, no nonsense sort whose temperament was worse than some of her fellow Careers and who was surprisingly deadly in a fight despite a lack of formal training. She'd labeled her as one of the top threats to her potential victory outside of her own pact, and had even imagined going toe to toe with her in some mid-Games conflict, sword on mace. Clearly, she'd been struck down by something more fierce than even her - whether that was another tribute (only Rhaegar Hammerfell and his impeccable skill came to mind) or something even more fearsome, she could only guess.
Then was the brave, stubborn idiot that had stuck around during the Bloodbath. She had no idea what had possessed Serena Fennel to face down three Careers and an axe-wielding girl dressed as a witch at the same time, whether it was idiocy or a brash cockiness that had come when Six's most recent champion had struck down Lux Pelotte in single combat, but she had stayed, and she had suffered for it. She'd been hoping to find the girl herself when they had set out from the Cornucopia with weapons bristling and backpacks stuffed to the brim, but it seemed that someone else had finished the job first.
No matter. There would be other chances to strike down warm bodies, and the fact that these two had been claimed by others only meant that there were two less souls standing between her and her crown.
In place of the full moon came not the sun but another, dark and foreboding. If the first moon had been been light and welcoming, if a bit cool, this one was darkness and despair personified. It had been many years since she'd been afraid of the dark, but even she was not immune to the unease that pricked along spines and sunk into hearts with icy claws.
Even with first Samson and then Hayden watching, her sleep was fitful, and when it came her time to take watch it was more of a relief than an inconvenience.
By the time the dark moon had sunk and the light one had risen, they were on the move. No one and nothing had attacked them in the dark - indeed, the only other living thing they had seen was Claudia the snake - and an agreement, unspoken but no less binding, was made to consistently be on the move.
Besides, the first pangs of hunger began to gnaw themselves on her stomach lining, and if there was thing that was more deadly than her fellow tributes, it was the natural needs of the body that even the best in the Capitol could only alter instead of eradicating entirely.
So they moved, pool of water gradually fading into the background as a sea of yellow appeared in the fore. As they drew nearer, her mouth gradually curved into a smirk as familiarity flooded her mind. She'd seen enough documentaries on the victors from Eleven and their home to recognize the wheat even from a distance, and where there was wheat meant potentially other food.
Perfect.
Everything was going according to plan so far. They'd won the wealth, successfully made it through the first day without killing each other, and had found water. Mariela had even caught a number of fish along with her snake, which could come in handy in a pinch.
And now they'd found food. Or, at least, a lead on where to find it.
Within the hour, they'd closed the distance to the point that the distant sea was now a not-so-distant sea of amber, confirming her earlier assumption. A smirk of triumph plastered itself across her face, for they were officially set.
All the items one could want, food and water within walking distance, and two Careers and a third who could hold her own in combat - few had ever had it as good as she currently did.
Even the moonlit sky of perpetual night and the chill across her arms and legs did little to sour her mood, for their long term needs were now, officially, all taken care of.
It was then that the sound of rustling reached her ears.
Jubilation died in her throat, and she mentally cursed herself for forgetting perhaps the most important reality of the Games - in the arena, you were never far from conflict.
And it was her that spotted them first - before Hayden or Samson or Mariela or even before they spotted her - and her eyes narrowed.
A tall, skinny blonde boy she recognized only by his famous surname - Truus. A petite, pretty blonde she remembered from a single conversation - Josephine. A dark-haired boy she'd shared a chessboard and a conversation with a million years ago - Shim.
And...
Rhaegar.
The only one outside her alliance that she genuinely felt a sense of wariness around, Rhaegar Hammerfell stood before her, in the flesh. A memory of the duel they'd shared back in the training center crossed her mind - a boy who was virtually her equal no matter what strategies she'd employed.
And even as she drew her sword, another memory flashed before her eyes - one before the arena, when she was a naive girl who'd taken out two others from different districts in the Olympics and had thought herself invincible even as she fought with a boy from her own home. They'd been virtually equals then, and even then, she'd lost.
Here, defeat meant certain death instead of the forfeit of a gold medal. The stakes were much higher than they'd ever been - perhaps even in the bloodbath, where it was unpredictable chaos as opposed to an orderly clash between two.
But she'd always claimed she worked the best under pressure.
Now was the time to prove that claim.
"Enemies," she hissed, though by then she had no doubt that her allies had seen them for themselves. "Rhaegar's mine."
She took one step forward, then another. Sword arm raised, pointing directly at the boy from Two. "Rhaegar!" she called, pouring as much confidence into her tone as she could.
Only there was none. There was only determination clenched between steel teeth and something burning bright in her chest - Fear? Anger?
Who knew. Who cared.
The large boy turned to face her, and she charged.
cynthia attacks rhaegar with her sword
|Zms10q_sword
1176 -- Shallow Cut on Chest -- 4.0 damage
sword|Zms10q_sword
1176 -- Shallow Cut on Chest -- 4.0 damage
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