The Bloodbath

Tom
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The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:02:55 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Feb 10, 2018 10:02:55 GMT -5

[Caine Winchester D10M | Intro]

Cigarette ash like wildfire
Burning holes in the night time
Open scars cut like barbed wire
White lies flying high like a ceasefire

Caine Winchester wakes to the sound of a gunshot ringing in his ear.

Cold sweat along his forehead as he feels his heart pounding like hooves against the dusty ground of District Ten. The dream of Jed volunteering for him fading into the background of his mind as he clambers out of bed, poking his head out to get an avox to fetch him water. Throat dry with the rapid breath that comes from his chest as he leans against a door. The day had come upon him. No more ceasefires of words that won't come from his throat. The unknown land waiting before him and the others to begin the slaughter of lives upon weapons of a different color.

An avox appears at the door with a pitcher of water and a glass, carefully she pours it in a cup as he holds his breath. The soothing liquid falls down his dry throat as he hands the glass back to her. Breakfast was being prepared. A last meal for the twenty four kids who will inevitably fight for life or death in a place where nothing but broken bodies lay. All they tell him is good luck and to try and survive as long as possible. Home was no longer with him, unless he counted the hat upon his head or Bella who must be rising just like him.

The morning sun glittering through his window, basking in sunlight, he waits for the inevitable call of breakfast and hell to begin.

Mercy for his already broken form.

The outfit fits like a glove, tight to his skin. The material is thin, but the boots and jeans that he ends up in remind him of something people would wear in the cold. Cold, like the ice that was surely to be upon the arena. A groan comes from his throat, stylist smacking his chest hard as he lets out a sigh. Hands moving ever so gently to make sure the top layer looks good upon him. Her hands reminding him of the soft hugs that Ma used to give him as a small boy before ranching took over his mind. She's pleased with her work as he groans at the rather glittering stones upon the shirt.

Blue like the sky or his eyes or the water. The blue seems to be deep in color like the night sky with glittering stars that he had wished to never come the night before. All of the color drains from his face as he feels the nerves coating under his skin to his stomach. All he can do is let the feeling stay where it is. She places his hat upon his head, fixing it in a way that it won't fly away in a cold breeze, if the arena was cold like he was getting. District Ten wasn't cold like other districts could get.

The most he's seen is a hail that came from the sky, melting before it hits the ground. The sun's glimmer shines in from somewhere, but he moves away from it knowing that if he looks at it one more time, he'll panic about the possibility of dying in a unfamiliar place. Instead, he moves away from his stylist with a small smile as he moves away to where ever they would take him. Time to joint he twenty three others in an unfamiliar place where death waits for them.

The platform rises up to a hell that was unknown to him. The whiteness of cold shines brightly into his blue eyes blinding him for a moment. Silence fills his ears as the rush of hooves in his ears begin. Heart racing as he can see others there now as the glint of white fades away from his eyes. They were all there with chills in their bodies as the snowy ground comes in strong. The thin layers doing nothing for him. A chattering of his teeth as he stands, preparing his mind for the hellish cold that stands before him.

A stone building lays before him, holes scorched of where windows would be. A rough, rustic look that makes his chest burst with anxiety because anything could be behind the door that swings gently with the small cold breeze. There's both silence and noise pounding in his ears as the white comes back to him. Soon red would coat the ground, the sight would be horrendous. Eyeing up the field, he can see a weapon somewhere glittering or maybe it was the snow. He couldn't tell.

All he knew is he needed to go once the timer finished.

Too late.

It already finished while he was looking up the scene before him.

May heaven have mercy upon them.

Dropping flags on the shoreline
This is as far as I can feel right
'Cause what you don't know
Can haunt you

(Caine Winchester D10M enters Bloodbath)

Made by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.
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The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:03:21 GMT -5

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Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Feb 10, 2018 10:03:21 GMT -5

RAVEN SAYER.

The elongated skyline of the Capitol beams in mockery at him. Warm waters of his bath turn arctic, the breakfast tastes repugnant and even the very air becomes insipid, unbreathable, like the oxygen’s supposedly making his lungs catch flare.

Every object feels foreign to touch.

Red neon letters spell out ’12:00’ and it’s already morning—a few valueless hours left to spend until they all dash into Ripred’s cleansing riptide that devour twenty-three and only let one broken soul come out of its waters victorious.

Nonetheless, it’s a Pyrrhic victory. There’s no sense of achievement in the arena, only an imminent death or a hollow afterlife. But, Raven doubts it’s the same for Aeson— (he can hear the familiar sound of twigs breaking like bones intertwined with a footfall.) –or Euley— (the rustling of leaves and an avalanche of hair down her back.)

Raven has abandoned his mattress because it was becoming too pointless to sprawl over an expanse that provided neither comfort nor security. Curled up in a corner of the room, he looks up, past the Capitol’s fluorescent glow, at the stars and cosmos. And, strangers and lovers alike fall from the skies like comet-tails. First, it’s the sharp edges of Caine in the dark, holding Raven’s hand. A moment of temporary paradise.

Then, his face distorts and changes into the indigo sky again before taking shape as someone else’s.

Dove Sayer.

(His sister.)

He closes his eyes because it’s agonizing to even envision her. When his eyelids open again, it’s the faces of Gabriel, Mercy and … Gillian—who, Raven thought with both fright and affection, captures the essence of the sister he’s always wanted to have. Suddenly, he’s went back in time, to sharing stories and laughter and sentiments with the three of them in the small slumber party that Gillian insisted on hosting. He remembers looking at their faces and thinking: allies.

(Ghosts, like him.)

Flickers of images and pearly whites fade away like fog from a machine and Raven’s left staring at a star-splattered sky, connecting dots and tracing shapes of trees with his eyes.

But, before he can get some much-needed rest—from the white of clouds, emerge lush-green forests and suddenly, he’s back in Seven, reigning on a throne of mahogany amidst emerald castles pierced together through roots and grooves. It’s not going to be the forest prince that ascends to the arena today—it’s going to be a woodland king that rules with an iron fist.

Between the stars and his own reveries, Raven finds serenity.

Time clicks and passes and as it does, the lines between him and I overlap like Venn diagrams. Perspectives shift—and madness takes a palpable form as Raven becomes I, and I becomes Raven. He turns into me yet you reminds you. Somewhere, a raven harks and whispers dark omens as premonitions bleed into reality. I … He … I – is – am ushered into a crystal tube. Each breath sets his lungs on fire but I knot my fingers into fists and put up a formidable countenance for show.

The tube ascends to somewhere unholy, a land where saints and devils are akin.

First salient thing I feel is the cold that pierces through my skin and hangs on me like a piece of fabric. Then, a white-screen explodes ahead of my eyes—I have to shield my eyes because it makes me flinch. A taste of mountain air touches my tongue and Ripred—the cold is slowly extinguishing the flames of adrenaline within me. I can hear the icy hiss of cold and snow. Nostrils pick up the stench of underlying fear and sweat.

(A mantra resonates somewhere:
this is real, this is real.)

The gong sounds and I, Raven Sayer, the spirit of woodlands, leaps onto a tundra earth to rebel against Ripred.

You do not make a fool of Mother Nature’s reservist.

[raven sayer enters bloodbath // intro]

Last Edit: Feb 12, 2018 5:52:55 GMT -5 by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.

堕落天使

arx!!
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literally so gay, doing so many crimes

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:03:50 GMT -5

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Post by arx!! on Feb 10, 2018 10:03:50 GMT -5

[intro - johannes zedler d5m - ]

Morning comes in a cold sweat and a rush to get out the door. If it hadn't been for the nightmare that woke me, I would've slept like a baby. But it stays in my memory, lingering and festering until it's all I can think about. I've shoved as many feelings away as I possibly could about this since I got here, focused on other things. But now that I'm all trussed up in fancy jewels and a thermal, I can feel my heart beginning to race.

I told myself I wouldn't panic. Over and over again, just like I had told myself I'd volunteer at the reaping. For her. Do it for her. All for her. And I can feel my muscles tense and my heart beginning to race as I'm shoved into a tube and start to rise.

I talk one breath in and have to gasp. The air around me is freezing, stealing my breath away as I take in the surroundings as best as I can. But I can't really focus. Not when all I feel is cold. My breath billows out in front of me in clouds as the ticking of the clock grows closer and closer to zero.

All I see is snow, trees, and a building. So as the gong sounds, I already know which way I'm sprinting.

[jj entering the bb]

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

Mercy Woods [Tribsit]
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The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:04:02 GMT -5

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Post by Mercy Woods [Tribsit] on Feb 10, 2018 10:04:02 GMT -5

{ mercy woods || d11f || intro }

Somewhere between waking and sleeping, covered in a thick layer of semi-conscious fog, Mercy convinces herself she is back home. She is home, in District Eleven, with Gabriel's head at her feet and his snores filling up the room, calming her. The air feels clean in her lungs and she doesn't struggle to breath. Sunlight dances through her eyelashes, and even though she's always hated the sun for being so cheerful, this time it provides some form of comfort.

But then the light turns pale and white instead of rich and yellow, the warmth drains away from her, piece by agonizing piece, through her veins and out through her fingertips. Across the sheets, tumbling onto the floor, spilling out of the room in stream of happy memories she doesn't really have. Gabriel's snores fade into the sounds of the furnace grumbling in complaint behind the walls. Something rotten twists inside her stomach.

Today is what will come to be known as The End of Mercy Woods. Not many people will read the story. Not many will care, because quite honestly, the survivors are far more interesting. One after another, the Capitol gobbles them up like a hungry beast, starved for whole years at a time. That's all they really are though, aren't they? A monster swallowing twenty-three children whole every year. Maybe Mercy's bones will pick the creature's teeth clean this year.

She hears a knock on the door, and her stomach ties itself into an ugly little knot. She presses her lips together, digs her nails into the palms of her hands, and prays the noise will go away. She doesn't want to get up. She doesn't want to face this day.

She doesn't want to die.

But there's the knock again, and Marsha is persistent, opening the door a crack and giving some cheerful greeting Mercy has grown tired of. It's only been a few days, but the escort has been exhausting.

The End of Mercy Woods.

A knife in her stomach, blood spilling rivers until it fades into the soil and the whole event is forgotten. Until Death takes her away for good.

She opens her eyes, leans over the side of the bed, and vomits onto the floor. The disdain coming from Marsha is nothing short of tangible.

Mercy grimaces, spits out whatever remained of her dinner from last night, and buries her face in her pillow.

"Girl, you volunteered for this. One way or another, you're going to have to pull yourself together."

Mercy squeezes her eyes shut. "I didn't volunteer." the words are grumbled into her pillow, hardly audible, but what does it matter? No one cares whether she volunteered or not. She's Eleven's female tribute, they can't afford to replace her. The scandal would be outrageous.

"I don’t have to tell you things are bad."

No kidding, Marsha.

"But I’ve seen you - you just have to dig deep. You’d better not be screaming your name. They’d better be screaming your name."

Mercy reaches for a second pillow and uses it to cover her head.

*

Somehow, they've managed to drag her out here. In a hovercraft. With no windows.

She overheard some of the nurses whispering with the pilots and the flight crew, and they gave her an oxygen mask for the trip there. Can't have one of their tributes dying on the way to the arena now, can they?

But of course, once she's in there, she's no longer their responsibility. She can die whenever she feels like it. Or, perhaps whenever the other twenty-three felt like it. Her life was in their hands, really.

She focused on the mask for the flight there, the way it fogged up when she breathed out and how it faded back to clear plastic when she breathed in. She focused on the little puffs of oxygen, in through her nose and out through her mouth. She ignored the mountain of a boy sitting next to her. She ignored the sly-looking girl across the isle. She almost seemed to fade out of reality when they landed, when she was taken to her room and given an outfit to dress in. She didn't pay it much mind, didn't notice the color or texture, nothing except the thread that was unravelling at the corner, which she promptly began to pick at. Marsha fussed over her for a bit and then suddenly there was a glass wall closing around her.

She couldn't hear. She couldn't breath. For half a second, she thought she couldn't see, thought that maybe she'd pass out and wouldn't have to deal with her own death. But then she reached out and felt the cold glass beneath her fingertips and anchored herself back in reality. Then again, reality wasn't a place she wanted to be either.

She felt the plate rise beneath her, felt her knees shaking with the uncertainty of it all. She rose, and then everything was white and bright and then she really couldn't see. She'd always known the sun was out to get her.

And when her eyes finally focus, when she has a moment to take in the wide plain of snow spilling out before her, the clock has already started to count down. She turns her head and tries to focus on it, but the little orange lights are blurred, and she can't seem to pull them into straight, defined lines. All she knows is that it's counting off every pounding thud of her heart like it's her last one.

Who knows.

Maybe it is.

{ mercy woods enters the bloodbath }

ali
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Ohana means family

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:04:26 GMT -5 via mobile

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Post by ali on Feb 10, 2018 10:04:26 GMT -5

[ Demelza Shim | Intro ]

Cold sheets lay unkempt, abandoned on the mattress, a fortress of pillows lay discarded hastily, littering the head of the bed where Demelza Shim had forgotten them hours ago. She sat with her back pressed against the large floor to wall sized window that overlooked the still sleeping golden metropolis around her. She envied it as she watched the slowly rising shadows grow before her as the sun slowly began to crest over the world, a euphoria of colour and light which broke the darkness of the night; soon she would at least not be alone.

She pressed the heel of her palms against her eyes, as if willing the tiredness that lingered there away with sheer will. Despite her hate for it, last night Demelza had wanted nothing more than to be carried off into a dreamless sleep but things always came with a catch. And dreams were sleeps cruel condition- it was a truth that Demelza yearned to be a lie but knew it never would be.

She had been lucky enough to be able to claw and snatch herself a few hours of it but as light as Demelza had tired to keep herself, she had soon found herself unwillingly being led down the rabbit hole, to the depths of the world where she feared to go. It had not taken her long be torn from sleep by her own screaming and thrashing as she reeled from yet another dream that left her shaking- since she had found herself with no company other than that of the moon.

Now dawn was invading the night, defeating the moon and the stars with the brilliance of the sun. Last night had been the last night she would have been able to get at least a restful sleep. It had been a wish that had gone unanswered, one she had cast to the wind in hopes that maybe, somewhere, some soul would hear it but like a message in a bottle tossed into the ocean, it was still adrift the waves and it wasn't likely to be found anytime soon, if at all. Now, she wasn't sure when she could ask something so simple again.

Still, at least she was used to it. Tiredness had been etched from her mind a long time ago and she seldom felt it's effects aside from heavy eyelids and her irritability. She wondered about Paxton, her heart straining as her tether home tugged with each beat. She began to wonder if he had slept last night or whether like her he had woken screaming like he sometimes did. She felt a pang of guilt wash over her as she remembered that she would not have been there to comfort him, him him a foreign lullaby to soothe his fears before he got back to sleep. He may have been her elder brother but she cared for him with as much ferocity as he did her. When he was not protecting her, she was trying to protect him. Demelza sunk against the glass, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she realized that they didn't have one another in the hardest time of their lives.

She remembered when they were young, and she had yet to understand the bruises he wore or the world's cruelty. They had been at dinner when she had accidentally spilt her bowl of soup, a simple mistake for a small child. Demelza remembered bowl smashing to the floor, and then the next thing she knew she was flung from her seat as her brother moved to protect her with sword and shield as her Papa unraveled into a ball of fury; a dragon he became who wanted nothing more than to devour the princess for her error. Demelza had crawled under the table, clamping her hands over her ears as the world erupted in a fire of rage and fury.

She hurried her face into her arm as she tried to wash the memory from her mind. Her brother had been her protector for so long that he hadn't seen she was donning silver chain too, to protect him from the dragons he fought so desperately to shelter her from. Panic filled her mind as she considered the dragons blaming Paxton for what had happened and her heart skipped a beat when she thought of what they might do to him because of it. She knew he could hold himself but there was only so much he could take and without her there to stand by his side-

She didn't want to think about it.

Slowly standing, Demelza moved across the room towards a coffee maker. She felt strange as she moved, like she was already a ghost walking among the living. Pausing to look around her room, she felt an empty feeling slowly growing in her stomach as she came to the realisation that this might be the last time she saw- well any of it. Even the dust that gently swirled in the morning light like snow on a winter breeze, she realised that - depending on the arena- she would unlikely see something so simple or as beautiful ever again. Her body tensed at the thought a she hesitated reaching out to punch in the code to make a cup of coffee- she felt almost like it was a dream she was about to wake from.

And for once she didn't ever want to wake up.

Demelza had barely had the chance to take a gulp of the coffee when she heard a knock at the door. Freezing, her eyes slowly moved to the door of her room as she felt her heart sink. Just five more minutes she thought to herself-, begging that distant omniscient presence that apparently looked over the whole of eternity. The lost God was clearly not listening to her as another knock came at the door. “Who is it?” She asked bitterly, lowering the barely touched cup of coffee to the side table.

There was a beat.

“Only me!” Chirped the District escort as he flung the door open with arms flailing in what Demelza guessed was supposed to be a grand gesutre. She held back the urge to throw the coffee cup at him “It is time! The moment we have all been waiti- your not even dressed yet!”

Demelza snapped and flung the coffee cup in his direction as he squealed and ran from the bedroom with his tail between his legs.

-

As she walked down the long and empty corridor towards what could very be her final moments, Demelza wished she hadn't flung the coffee cup at that stupid escort. Her body felt heavy as she walked and she couldn't be sure whether it was because her body wasn't buzzing with the usual energy from caffeine or whether it was because she briefly mourned the fact she wouldn't drink coffee ever again, feel the warmth ebbing into her as she clutched the mug between her hands or the comfort the rich, deep scenery the smell bought her whenever she was sad or angry. She would miss that and so many things before the world was turned upside down. She certainly, however, wouldn't miss that blabbering idiot of an escort.

As they turned a corner, Demelza felt her throat close up. At the end of the corridor, she could see a door, waiting, calling her name silently as they walked towards it. She felt pricks of sweat bubble to the surface of the skin on her forehead, her breathing becoming quickened as her mind began to spiral. Each step they took seemed to slow the world, the door edging closer as it's beckoning whisper turned into a clawing screech. Demelza had held herself together with ribbon and string, but that could not even hold her. She unraveled, tumbling head first into her worst nightmare and suddenly, she was more afraid of being awake.

As she took a step back, before her body could twist and sprint for the exit, the peacekeepers had grasped her arm, their hands tightening around her bicep like a vice. “NO!” She screeched, eyes widening in panic, her heart thumbling to beat steadily inside her, thrumming against her rib cage so hard it almost hurt. As she struggled against the two guards, her body ached and threatening to snap in two as she writhed in their grasp, her heels slipping against the floor as she tried to dig them in, get a foothold. “NO!!!! I WANT TO GO HOME!!!”

She didn't even notice they'd made it to the door, suddenly she found herself in a small white room, at its centre was a small platform. It was clean, pristine, poorly lit by only a single light that hung above the platform. An execution block. Her execution block. Her heart beat crescendoed and Demelza screamed again, hot warm tears welling in her eyes as she struggled against her captors but they were too strong for her. She was not strong enough. “PLEASE!!!” She begged, letting out a ragged sob as the two peacekeepers hauled her onto the platform and when they let go, before she had chance to think, a glass tube hissed upwards around her. Trapping her like she were an animal.

“NOO!” Demelza yelled, hammering her fist on the glass as hard as she could as tears streamed down her cheeks, the fear and anguish she felt was slowly flourishing into rage as she bagged harder, spamming the heel of her fist against the glass so hard it shuddered at the impact but no matter how hard she.tried, it would not break. Demelza let out a cry of anguish, pressing her forehead against the cool curve of the tube.

Her whole body quivered a she sunk to her knees. She expected defeat to wash over her, but as the platform groaned beneath her as the mechanics began to whirr and chug, she felt determination begin to flower inside her. Her breathing grew steadier as she inhaled, looking up at the approached darkness as she ceiling opened up above her, tears welling in her eyes as she heard a voice inside her head.

You have been through too much to give up now you idiot. Her own voice echoed inside her mind as the room slowly began to disappear. Rising to her feet, Demelza angirly wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve, her lip still quivering. She may have not been the knight her brother had been, but she was not the damsel who needed protecting anymore. Her brother had made her vow an almost impossible promise, one she was not sure if she'd be able to keep but she would give it her best shot. As the world plunged into darkness, Demelza pressed her hand over her heart where she kept the flower her brother had given her and held her breath, gathering what scraps of courage she could.

The cold stole that breath right from under her. Demelza gasped as the freezing cold air hit her like a brick wall, her body immediately beginning to shiver as her breath turned to frosted air before her. She wrapped her arms around her own body in an attempt to stop herself doubling over in two from the cold. She had never felt cold like this, one that already leached into her body. Looking up, eyes watering in the chilly breeze that gripped her in its icy embrace, she could see why.

“Y-y-you have got to be f-f-uckin’ kiddin’ me” her teeth chattered loudly as she spoke to herself through gritted teeth.

The whole arena was covered in snow- pristine white rolled out all around her for miles beneath the two mooned sky, their silver faces watching the tributes humbly from their skytop castle. For the far as the eye could see, the world was harsh white, seldom broken by any sort of greenery or rocky outcrop. Above them, a mountain looked over the entire arena, it's rocky peak out of reach and - like everything else- covered in snow. And at its foot, stood a plethora of treasures all glistening in the light of the moon's.

And like the door it was beckoning her. Her gaze flickered upward to the shrinking countdown. Her body tensed in anticipation, waiting eagerly, anxiously for the number to reach naught. She dropped her gaze, chanting in her mind 'i will go home’s, looking ahead, eyes slowly setting with determination.

I will go home to Paxton.

The gong sounded and Demelza took off.

[Demelza enters the Bloodbath]

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

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The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:05:02 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2018 10:05:02 GMT -5

[Gillian Imberline | Intro post | Attack N/A]

Gillian Imberline

⚜

You remembered liking the colors of your uniform. Pink—girly as it was—the scarlet jewels along the shoulders and across the chest shimmered underneath the fluorescent lights. Next came the acid washed jeans, yours so small they’d put in an elastic waistband to make sure it was tight enough(and perfect for stashing your little moleskin journal, so long as you tucked it between that and your underwear). A pair of plain black boots completed the outfit, and you puzzled over where they could be sending you (a safari? the moon?).

Yesterday, you would have been trembling as the tube lifted up and up, out of the grey little holding room and toward the light of the arena. For all your talk of not caring, of living in the moment, cracks had formed at the edges of your illusion, and let in the darkness of fear and doubt. That was until you had stood on your own two feet, and taken a risk. The girl from Eleven took a chance on your friendship; an alliance that could preserve and sustain you. But better still, there was the courage that came with knowing at least one person had your back—enough that you could press your feet forward, one after another. You found Gabriel (or did he find you?) and even after drinking disgusting rum and the room spinning, you wanted him to join you, too. And then the boy from seven—thought truth be told, you liked him more for his beard than anything else—to make up a tiny army for whatever lay ahead.

White, endless white.

“It’s really freaking bright up here!” You tried to shield your hands above your eyes, but the light wasn’t coming from the sun, rather, the snow that circled all around you. As the clock ticked down from sixty, you started to shiver, and crossed your arms across your chest. To your left you glanced at C’Rizz, and wondered if he was still thinking about death (you wondered if he thought about anything else, truth be told—like iced cream, or puppies, or normal kids things). Amy looked poised and ready across the way (was she going to bludgeon your head in?). What about Alejandro (he’d probably do just fine, and you hoped he did). You glanced at the clock and let out a groan.

Forty-eight seconds?!

Maybe time moved more slowly as you approached death. To be fair, sixty seconds was a lot long span of time for someone with only twelve years versus those that were eighteen. You stared up at the giant metal contraption with chairs that seemed to vanish up the mountain. There was no way in heck you were going to be convinced to get on that thing, not until you saw someone else do it first. People were always running off and doing foolish things in the games without using their darn common sense. No—you’d rather go toward the place with all the bumps in the ground, maybe find a spot to make an igloo and hide out. You wondered if someone could sponsor you hot chocolate. Mmm. Hot chocolate.

Twenty-five seconds.

Now it just seemed rude that after trying to think of anything besides what lay in front of you, time slowed it march. Which of the boys liked girls, you wondered? That was a good question, because after watching them all in the training center, it sure seemed most of them were interested in each other rather than any of the girls. Not that there was anything wrong with that (you liked writing stories where boys professed their love for one another) but it felt like a disproportionate number of them wanted each other. Maybe it was something in the water at the training center.

Ten seconds.

If you died in the bloodbath, it wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it? Usually people who fell in the bloodbath were forgotten, but—they tended to escape the ravages of the later arena. And you’d rather have your head bashed in than freaking freeze to death. “It’s so cold!” You complained already, forgetting that there were more important things you could be complaining about than the chilly wind whipping across your back.

Bzzzzt!

“Oh crap oh crap oh crap!” You swung your little sausage arms and high tailed it into the fray.

[Gillian Imberline enters the bloodbath]

⚜

Lyn𝛿is
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does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker? ✯

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:06:30 GMT -5

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Post by Lyn𝛿is on Feb 10, 2018 10:06:30 GMT -5

I must've lived a lifetime in this week, or is it that the past week has lasted a lifetime?

Seems like no time at all now lookin' back, though. Sittin' here in the tube just waitin' for the stylist, and I can already think of a million things I wanna still do, but it's all too late, isn't it?

Feel like it's gonna be harder to head out there knowin' that this is what the Capitol gets while we're fightin' each other.

There's nothin' to do but thinkin' now, and soon as you take away the food and fancy shit it gets mighty lonely. Somethin' tells me I oughtta savor the last bits of peace for as long as it lasts, but I can't help but start imaginin' the arena already.

First time in years they didn't give us some sorta fashion that ain't much like clothing -

...oh man is that snow?

I'm really gonna fuckin' hate this aren't I?

graphic by Kousei <3

Gabriel enters the bloodbath

"Yeah… You have to be careful when placing labels on good and evil, Celice. Never waste your anger on individuals. Always focus it on the evil within all of us."
- Lewyn, Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War

ryan
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over the moon, where all the wild things are

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:08:29 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ryan on Feb 10, 2018 10:08:29 GMT -5

She couldn’t believe she was here, right now.

She woke up in a cold sweat, screaming in terror as she watched someone rip out her throat. However, she didn’t die right away. She watched as that person feasted on it, eating it carnivorously. After moments of gasping for air, she heard the cackle of the body that was standing above her, and while she wanted to fight back, she laid there, dying.

And in that dream, Bella couldn’t do anything but lay there and watch in horror as the rest of her body was torn to shreds. Her arms were ripped off by wandering wolves, one leg amputated and taken as a trophy, and the other remained.

However, Bella wasn’t in her body anymore, she was sitting a couple feet away from it, her head hung in her lap. The tears were hot against her skin, but a gust of wind knocked her back for only a moment. When she opened her eyes, she saw the body had disappeared. She looked around, before she found it again, behind her as the head neared hers in a menacing way.

That’s when she snapped awake. Her screams bursting through her hands as she covered her mouth. She hadn’t had a nightmare like this since the day she got reaped, and she was hoping to never have one like this again.

She was not ready for today, and she was sure that she would never be ready.

She missed her sister, at least, that was the only that that was one her mind while her stylist got her ready for what surely would be her death. She looked at him, and all she could do was frown. She wasn’t ready for this, and she knew that she would never be ready for this.

She wished she was back home in ten right now, helping around the pound. Taking care of the children that she had come to known so well. She took care of them like they were her own, and she was sure that one day, she would take over the pound when the foster mother died. She knew that her calling as caring for the young.

In this moment though, she had to care for herself.

And that was the scariest thought she had this whole time.

However, as she was dressed in an odd uniform, she couldn’t help but wonder what was waiting for her up above. She knew that the arena’s differed every year, but how would this one do so? The real question was, would she be able to show her skill set here? Would she be resilient? Would she become a monster? Would she become a wolf? She didn’t know. She wouldn’t know until the sun hit her skin and annihilated her into her own oblivion.

She did have to admit though; the blue was absolutely gorgeous.

She entered the tube and said a couple blessings as it shut on her. She ascended like death’s angel, about to transcend onto a battlefield of broken soldiers. Bella was sure that everyone, no matter how ready they were for the games, was dead the moment they were reaped. One of them would make it out alive, but that person would have to live with the guilt of the twenty-three that don’t.

If Bella got out alive, she wouldn’t know what to do. She would be a murderer, but she would also be a mother. Could they be one in the same?

No. No they couldn’t.

Not in any world that they lived in.

She looked at the cornucopia as she felt the frigid air hit her exposed skin. Her first instinct was to take her hands and cover where it stung, but she didn’t want to risk an explosion. Instead of moving her body, she moved her eyes. She was alone here, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t people that she trusted here.

Her eyes found Caine, which was the closest thing she had to home at this point. She hoped one day that the boys would grow up to like him. Kind and sweet. Someone who would be too innocent for the games. Well, almost. His score passed through her head and she wondered what he did in order to earn him a nine.

Then there was Euley, Exar, C’rizz, and even little Gillian, all near and far from her, and all Bella could do was think about the memories she would cherish between them. While they all didn’t have too much time left, Bella would hold them close to her.

And then protect them by any means necessary.

Even if that meant stabbing them in the throat.

She watched at the time ticked down, and in those moments she thought of everything that she wanted to say. However, no one would listen to her, no one would hear her, or no one would care. Bella was flying into a battlefield on a tandem bicycle by herself. She hoped to leave ashes in her wake, but she first had to calm herself down.

So she started counting along with the beat of the clock.

“Twenty…” she started, keeping up with the rhythm as she watched the faces of the other tributes. She thought about her sister and what she could have been thinking right now. She hoped that she wouldn’t watch too long, and if Bella was about to die, she hoped that she wouldn’t watch.

But of course, Rogue would make her do so.

She hoped she won, so she could show prove her wrong.

”Five…” she continued, counting along as she watched each number counted down. ”Four…” She clutched her token to remind her of home and held it close to her heart. This locket meant everything to her, and she hoped that if she died, she could get it back to her sister. ”Three…” She braced herself to jump off the platform. ”Two…” She took a long deep breathe, knowing what she was capable of. ”One…”

She was capable of winning this.

And she was going to prove them all.

And she stepped off.

[Bella Rose D10F enters the bloodbath.]

tick 12a / calla
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just a litle creacher

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:09:38 GMT -5

Quote

Post by tick 12a / calla on Feb 10, 2018 10:09:38 GMT -5

Cade Riene | Intro

it's getting harder to breathe
chainsmoking your love
can't be good for my sanity
can't be good for my lungs

You can't do this.

Hollow chest, there's an echo of something lost in your veins. Everything happens in a rush, colour wheels fading as hours blur by and you let yourself drift.

It's sad, the only things you have to live for are a manged cat and the poisoned universe that's hidden under a floorboard, somewhere run-down and broken in Three. You knew you'd die early; it's in your blood. You never thought it would happen like this.

But now your name has meaning now, some kind of purpose in three little syllables and you shook under the weight of it. Watchful stares and waiting fists; these people want you dead.

Eleven times more likely to die, everything's a little fuzzy, now.

You think you might be fucked,

because you're still just a number. Another statistic thrown in to disrupt someone's precious data.

But you still wonder if you'll change
anything.

( Too little, too late. )

Looking to the sky and exhaling; heart tremors pounding an empty space into your chest.

And the first thing you register -
is that it's fucking cold.

Because of course it is.

A metronome heartbeat stutters, grinds to a halt and you run.

[Cade Riene enters the bloodbath]

⇀ tracker ↼
⇀ 2024 upat ↼

*
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They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:10:05 GMT -5

Quote

Post by * on Feb 10, 2018 10:10:05 GMT -5

[Dymas Nyx; D4; Intro]

Dymas NyxDistrict 4

What I wouldn't give to be back in district four. All I want at this moment is to wake up and meet up with Angel and do our morning routine. All the swimming that we could want and to hear his voice again. I breath in the aroma of the capitol for the last time. I breath in the possibility that a single fragment of a particle of this air that surrounds my body will have had his presences somewhere. There's always going to be a part of him with me and as the room is seemingly getting darker the more I look at he tube, I perfer to sit on the floor.

I fold my legs up, my back against the wall in hopes to keep me upright. The tube, clear pristine glass, taunts me so. With the uniform that they had dressed us made me cringe. I've never needed to wear thermals before and although the color of the shirt reminds me of the water, I can only wonder the temperature they are fixing to shoot me into. I"ve never seen snow. I've never touched the cold temperature of frozen ice.

"Oh boy... what have I gotten myself into?" I question to the walls. Apparently, my demonstration I had done for my private training session was null void as I thought my talents and skills were useful. To the gamemakers, my talents and skills just do not match the arena I'm about to go into.

"That sucks." I grumble and hit my head against the wall for good measure.

Once...

Twice.

Three times and I close my eyes and just breathe. I wonder what Angel is doing right now. If he's sitting there watching the screen, waiting to see me bail on the countdown. What lunatic would be stupid enough to step off the portal, but do I even give it a try? Sponsoring will be null with a score of four, the same as my district number. Oh the irony in it all. "Pathetic Dymas. You should have murdered a tree and you'd have gotten a better score." I scoff at myself. It was a pathetic attempt to show off and even though I thought it was good, apparently showing off too much is my downfall. "I should have went practical. Something they were looking for." I push my lungs hard with a sigh.

Enter the tubal pod.

My eyes shift quickly to the glass tubing and my heart starts to stammer hard beneath my chest. My face quickly burns up with fear, my cheeks becoming red with the internal thoughts that in a mere moment or two I will be facing twenty three other tributes vying to go back home - one way or another.

I shift my weight and push off from the wall. My fingers prickle with an amount of nervousness and I start to remember what I've learned in the training center. All the stations I've touched. Everything will come down to this one moment.

I step closer to the tube and stop.

"Mom. Momma T. You two are the best mothers in the world. Thank you for making me your son. Thank you for everything that I was given and not given. Thank you for taking care of me and loving me." The words are spat to the ceiling area, hoping that whatever spiritual guide that resides within the heavens, he'll relay the message to my moms to keep them company and to comfort them.

I take two more steps and my fingers latch around the tubing as I look up into the tube. There's nothing more that I can see and my palms begin to sweat. I've never been so nervous in my life and I hate that I can't see my one and only love anymore.

"Angel... I love you. I"m wearing the hemp anklet you gave me last year. I never take it off. YOu will keep me safe, I know it. I know that you will be with me. Today, I need you like I needed you to save my life. Keep me from downing in fear, even though this isn't me at all. Angel, I do hope you know that I would never leave you... not even in death."

I step inside the tube.

It shuts itself around me.

I slam my fist into the glass and up I go.

The first thing I see is complete white and I am fully in awe of what I'm about to do. Slowly, my eyes shift to the other tributes. I see their faces and I see every single one of them with the same expressions and fear running though their viens. Now is the time to be stupid and reckless as I've been told I've always been.

"Here's to another day."

3...

2...

1....

[Dymas Nyx has entered the Bloodbath.]

pup
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The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:10:33 GMT -5

Quote

Post by pup on Feb 10, 2018 10:10:33 GMT -5

Feb 10, 2018 10:00:21 GMT -5 pup said:

[Amelina d1f enters the BB]

[googlefont="Poppins:400;Amatic SC:400"]
[Amelina d1f | Attack 1 | 5035]

[attr="class","amy"]

[attr="class","shadow"]Amelina Fournié

_{Cars money so what
We just want real love
All that fake shit blow it up
Know they can't control us}

The game begins as she rushes towards the center, her skin pricked by the cold. The weapons, what she needs to survive, were scattered around the broken house laying before her. The adrenaline begins coursing through her as she eyes the other tributes surrounding her. They’ll all be dead soon enough.

It was all a part of the game, but the fun had yet to begin.

Life was a maze of forks in the road, or even seven way splits in the path, and this was just another split. A twenty three way split. Who would she kill first? Who should she mercilessly drag towards their dead end in the maze. They were all weaker than her, she would easily kill any of them; There was a reason she didn’t ally with any of them.

Her eyes lock on the person nearest to her, grinning as the adrenaline coursed through her veins.

In her mind, she can hear her friends hovering by the television screen, her parents proud grins as they watch her rush in, the sound of Caesar Flickerman’s commentary already beginning to blare through the speakers. She can hear the sound of her swords in training clashing, the sound of steel against rubber, the sound of skin against skin.

She moves forwards, rushing at the person, uncaring of who it is.

Time for the fun to actually begin.

[attacks Finley Combes unarmed]
kwW44SS2unarmed
[5035 -- Thrown to Ground -- 0.5 damage
(Unarmed)]

(picks up Climbing Peg (knife))

^{We know what we know
But we accept the fact that we don't know
We look at this world we got much to explore
Come grab my hand there's a place we can go
Cause it's a good life (and it's alright)}

^{lyrics - "good life"}

[newclass=.amy]background-image:url("https://s10.postimg.org/wix3lyq6h/Untitled.png");transition:1s ease;width:400px;background-repeat:no-repeat;background-color:#3E2042;padding-bottom:20px;border-top-right-radius:200px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.amy:hover]background-image:url("https://s10.postimg.org/8enhvqxd5/Untitled1.png");transition:1s ease;width:400px;border-top-right-radius:2px[/newclass]

[newclass=".shadow]text-shadow: 0 1px 0 #ccc, 0 2px 0 #c9c9c9, 0 3px 0 #bbb, 0 4px 0 #b9b9b9, 0 5px 0 #aaa, 0 6px 1px rgba(0,0,0,.1), 0 0 5px rgba(0,0,0,.1), 0 1px 3px rgba(0,0,0,.3), 0 3px 5px rgba(0,0,0,.2), 0 5px 10px rgba(0,0,0,.25), 0 10px 10px rgba(0,0,0,.2), 0 20px 20px rgba(0,0,0,.15);[/newclass]unarmed

Last Edit: Feb 10, 2018 10:11:05 GMT -5 by pup

^Made by the amazing Onyx^

Cato
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I wish Cato didnt die

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:10:38 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Cato on Feb 10, 2018 10:10:38 GMT -5

Feb 10, 2018 10:00:26 GMT -5 Cato said:

Exar Shan | Intro

Exar Shan | Flee One

Why fight now? It's a question I ask myself all the time, and right now I don't have an answer. It's kind of cold, and truthfully, all I want to do is find a place to get some warmth. But I'm ready to begin. I'm ready to go. Ready to prove that one doesn't need to stay in the bloodbath in order to win. I look around at the weapons trying to find one that's worthwhile, but I see no swords. None of them exist here, and I don't want to use any other weapon. A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I turn around and run away hoping to leave the fighting behind me. If anyone follows me, they'll have another thing coming when I get my hands on them. I've been watching films, and it's time to put what I've learned to the test. It'll be fun because the games have begun.

-Exar flees bloodbath-

kousei ♚
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now and forever

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:10:55 GMT -5

Quote

Post by kousei ♚ on Feb 10, 2018 10:10:55 GMT -5

Feb 10, 2018 10:00:37 GMT -5 kousei ♚ said:

aeson kight | intro

aeson kight | attack 1 | 5034

a e s o n

You wake up.

You run.

You have a biting rage in between your teeth and blood rage within your hands. You search frantically, for bodies in your way that don't look like Euley, Isaac or Violetta. You spot a body, in the way and you can't distinguish a face you're willing to kill from a face you'd rather keep alive for just once more day.

You sneer, deciding the point is moot anyway.

You strike with your fists, and wonder if something has shattered -- within you or within them.

You spot something sharp and decide it doesn't matter.

[aeson kight attacks dymas nyx; unarmed]

6SCoHYsxunarmed

[5034 -- Bruised Left Forearm -- 2 damage]

unarmed

Last Edit: Feb 10, 2018 10:15:57 GMT -5 by kousei ♚

Python
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The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:10:59 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Python on Feb 10, 2018 10:10:59 GMT -5

Feb 10, 2018 10:00:27 GMT -5 Python said:

[violetta salazar, intro]

( d7f violetta salazar — attack 1 — result )

She immediately dreaded every second that would be spent in this frozen hell. Imagining herself as a cold corpse had led to a distracting hot shower and a meal, but now she was faced with a tundra and the possibility of death. The temperature made matters worse; she already craved the warmth of home, and couldn’t imagine herself curled up by a tree in this nightmare of a place. She would freeze before anyone could finish her off.

Casting her complaints aside, she sprinted as soon as the gong sounded. Her strides were clumsy in the snow, and it didn’t help her as she crashed into a fellow tribute.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

[violet attacks dymas; unarmed]
aZi6plGTunarmed
Bruised Right Wrist -- 2 damage

[picks up tent stake knife]

unarmed

Last Edit: Feb 10, 2018 10:11:43 GMT -5 by Python

lance
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gay and chaotic? call it gayos

The Bloodbath Feb 10, 2018 10:11:01 GMT -5

Quote

Post by lance on Feb 10, 2018 10:11:01 GMT -5

Feb 10, 2018 10:00:30 GMT -5 lance said:

isaac jacobi | intro | no attack

isaac jacobi | attack one | 5129

They say before you die, your entire life flashes through your eyes.

Well, either I’m not about to die or whoever coined that saying is full of shit, for the only thing I register aside from the motherfucking cold and the building in front of me is a strange sort of calm, stoked by the fire inside my core.

It’s do or die, or perhaps both, I don’t know.

What I do know is that the faces that approach me look familiar, but the warm body that crosses my path definitely is not friendly.

I aim a fist in his general direction - the very same one that caved in the dummy’s face - before moving on.

picks up tent stake (knife)

isaac attacks dymas nyx; unarmed

qa7I8n_1unarmed

miss