looking for heaven [day6: Stitch/Ollie/Andy]
Aug 22, 2018 0:10:08 GMT -5
Post by pearl mcclain d4 [ryan] on Aug 22, 2018 0:10:08 GMT -5
He ran.
And ran.
And ran.
His feet slammed into the earth, like he was colliding with the atomosphere for the first time.
Invisible red flames pulsed out of his feet, something that he couldn’t feel or see, but something that he could equate the amount of pain that he was feeling right now.
He tried to stop, but something in his mind told him to keep going.
Before he ran, he watched as Andy slayed the dragon. Something that he never thought he would see someone do in his life, but here he was, witnessing a boy so small conquer something so large.
It put a smile on his face for a moment.
He thought back to the time that he spent with Connor back in eight. A tacit boy who did not know what it was like to love. Until they found each other.
But of course, it never lasted, and as much as Stitch prayed that what he had with Andy could last as well, he knew that it wouldn’t.
At some point, one of them would die, and that idea threw him for a loop.
And so while he tried to give Andy some sort of reinforcement, he knew it was best to keep his distance.
After all, he didn’t want to watch another person that he cared about slip through his fingers.
First Ping, then Alexander, Neela, Lavina, Cassia… all of them feel in Stitch’s wake, and he would be damned if Andy also fell. Especailly to his own hands.
So he followed the two people he woke up with and didn’t look back after his final words to Andy.
And while they ran, Stitch could tell that everything wasn’t right in the universe.
There was more to the story that he was forgetting as they moved towards the edge of the island.
When Stitch looked out, he realized that there was more to the story.
That there was something that all of them were forgetting.
The day before.
Stitch wanted to stop in his tracks, but he wasn’t sure if they were beginning to remember either.
Finally, the raft that Neela had left him was in sight, and Stitch stopped in his tracks.
He didn’t know if he could trust the two people that he was with after all.
His glaive was still in his hand, he pulled it close to himself.
They all stared at each other, knowing that they were enemies two days before this. But Stitch could feel that they did not want to fight.
They wanted to survive.
He dropped the idea of attacking them and pointed to his raft.
They talked for a moment, realizing that they did not to kill each other.
Not yet.
”C’mon. We can take the Imberline.” Stitch said as they all realized that there was so much more to the story then what was fed to them.
Lavina Cheyne was dead after all.
Wynter Rochelle was dead.
The boy from nine was dead.
And now there were only 13 of them left.
And they all hopped onto the raft, and with a slight push from one of the javelins he had on him, they were off.
They traveled the waters that were just as shaky as them, and as much as Stitch wanted to say something to them, he didn’t.
Instead, he thought about the stars as they passed above him. How he was sure that everyone that died so far had become one with them.
Celestial beings that could not do anything but exist. No talking, no dancing, no living.
Stitch knew that there was a chance for him to join the people that he would see in the sky tonight, but right now, he had to think about anything else than that.
After all, he wasn’t dead yet. And neither were the people that he was currently sharing his raft with.
There was still so much more time to be spent here, and Stitch was determined to make the most of it.
And so they floated on to a territory that could very well be their gravesite.
And Stitch would never look back.
And once they hit shore, they settled quickly.
The starry night covered them, something that he never thought he would see again.
He sat near the water, trying to collect his thoughts as he felt the cool breeze attack his skin again.
He clutched for his scarf, but of course, there was nothing there.
He sighed, wondering if he was ever going to see that scarf again. As much as knew that he could have made a new one if he got out of the arena, there was still a bit of sentimental value to it.
He stared out into the water and wondered what was going to happen come the next day, his thoughts ran rampant until he felt someone touch his shoulder.
He looked up to notice Faline, the girl from six, had joined him in his solitude.
And while he didn’t know what to say at first, he didn’t have to speak the first words.
"This was yours before it was hers." She said as she handed him the scarf from her pocket.
Stitch could not believe it, so much that he sat there for a moment, just blinking until he finally grasped the piece of cloth, still covered in dried blood, and accepted the item that he never thought he would see again.
”Im sorry for your loss.” Stitch said to her, unraveling the scarf and wrapping it around his neck again. The smell of copper lightly wafting off of it.
And while he searched his mind for more empty platitudes to offer, he was cut off again.
”You’re okay Stitch.”
Stitch couldn’t help but smile. As much as he wanted to say that he agreed, he knew that deep down he wasn’t. He would never be okay after an experience like this.
”I’m sorry I attacked you in the bloodbath. I guess I just wasn’t myself.” Stitch offered back, knowing that there could have been more to his words, but at the moment, he was lost in thought. There was just a little too much going on for him to process everything. ”Mackenzie might not understand, but that’s okay. Protect him Faline.” Stitch smiled before turning his attention back to the sea.
Stitch knew that there was no more time for them to share empty promises that they couldn’t keep. But Stitch meant the words he spoke, realizing that at the end of the day, Faline still had Mackenzie, and Stitch had no one.
He was left in the dust, because he knew he was dangerous.
He could protect Ping. Neela. Wynter. Alexander. Lavina. So he did not blame Florence when she left him in the dust.
He probably would have done the same thing if he was in her shoes after all.
Stitch just hoped Florence was okay wherever she was.
That someone was taking care of her and letting her cozy up.
He hoped that she was making new friends in a place like this.
It amazed him how well she was able to cling to people when they were all dying around here.
He wished that at the end of this, she would find something to hold onto after all, because if she was the one to make it out of here alive, Stitch was sure that she would go crazy.
His hands began to play with the scarf, his fingers moving in and out of the holes that he threaded into it, feeling the dryness of the blood as it covered parts of the scarf that he loved.
Stitch took a deep breath, feeling a weight of disappointment sink onto his shoulders.
However, he wasn’t so because his scarf was ruined. No.
He was disappointed that Wynter was not the person to give it back to him.
Stitch wasn’t going to complain about Faline giving it to him, but he hoped that his kindness would have given her the strength to keep fighting.
But he did not know the situation, so for all he knew, she could have went down trying to claw someones eyes out.
And so he looked back at the two behind him and simply smiled, knowing that anything could happen over the course of the night.
But he was ready to continue on with his new companions.
For whatever adventures they were thrusted into.
Stitch decided that he wanted to sleep above the water, and so he climbed on his raft and took a javelin and stabbed it into the ground to anchor himself down.
As he laid there, he closed his eyes and imagined himself back home in the arms of Connor.
He told him that he would protect him from everything and anything that would have come between them.
But he didn’t.
No.
Connor could not protect him from this place, and as much as Stitch wished that Connor was here with him, he wasn’t, and he never would be.
He knew he had to let it go.
Let the thought out of his brain and let it travel into space.
Hopefully it would fly into a sun that was nearby that would obliterate it into nothingness on contact.
However, Stitch knew that he couldn’t control his dreams.
And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he longed to return home at the end of the day.
He wanted to see Connor’s face, touch it with his own two hands, place his lips on his and pray that everything would work out.
But it never would, because something told Stitch that he was not destined to return home.
No.
He was a floating comet that was knocked off of its trajectory by something so foreign that he couldn’t describe it.
He could feel his body hurdle towards a larger entity, something that he couldn’t believe with his eyes.
A planet that he had never seen before, rotating so fast that he knew if he collided with it, it would have shredded him into tiny particles that would have sprayed across the open space. Decorating it in what Stitch knew he used to be.
But then his dreams changed before his eyes.
Now he wasn’t floating in space, but he was in a room, with his mother, trying to figure out a way to win his freedom.
There was a door at the end of the room, and his mother stood at the other end, holding her arms open for him to come in them.
But Stitch knew better than that.
Instead, he turned around and made his way to the door, trying to claim the freedom that he knew he deserved.
But when he got to the door, he could not walk through it.
He tried to push, and pull, and claw his way through the door, but nothing was giving. That’s when he heard a loud cackle from his mother.
The sound reverberated in the room, so loud that Stitch swore that it was real.
It turned into a cacophonous choir that did not relent as Stitch turned around in horror.
And Stitch for once thought that this was how he was going to die.
Not being able to obtain the freedom that he begged for. The freedom that he knew he deserved.
The freedom that he should have taken the day before the reaping.
And then the laugh turned into a thunder crash.
And Stitch woke up to the sound of burnt earth. The rope smelled of putrid ash and he was floating in the sea. His eyes caught the glimpse Mackenzie as he saw him climb a tree.
The amount of rain that was coming down made Stitch fear what was come to next.
He knew that this much rain meant something big was coming.
Stitch reached out to the sea, realizing that there was no way for him to get back to land. And so he sat there, rain pouring down on him as thunder cracked across the sky.
He was stranded, and he had no clue where the water was going to take him.
In hindsight, he wished he got the chance to say goodbye to the two who took him in, even though it was only for a short while.
But right now, he couldn’t focus on that.
His hands clung to the raft as the water violently flung him around like a rag doll.
He could feel his nails digging into the wood, and he just prayed that nothing would knock him off the one thing that was keeping him alive.
”Neela.” He screamed for a moment, knowing well that she was dead.
There was nothing that she could do for him now. But that did not stop him from hoping that her work would hold up against nature itself.
The water pushed the raft up and down, left and right, and every other direction one could think of, but surprisingly enough, it did not flip over.
It did not yield.
All the way up until Stitch felt it hit something hard.
And then he flew off the raft.
And when he woke up, it was morning time.
The heat of the arena was staggering, but Stitch got up and began to dust himself off.
The worst of it was over after all.
”Faline! Mackenzie!” He called out as he found his belongings not far from where he was.
He picked them up, realizing that he was in a place that he had never been too before.
He rubbed his arm, picking up his glaive and holding it close to him. He had to be on the lookout for anything that could have happened.
And that’s when he realized that Andy could have been hurt as well.
As much as Stitch hated to admit it, he couldn’t deny that there were some feelings for Andy. After all, Connor disappeared on him, and with the death of Gabriel, there was no doubt that Stitch was lonely.
Even though they met in the worst of circumstances, Stitch would not forget the kiss they had shared as he wrapped up some of his bandages.
Enemies turned lovers was such a weird thought to think about, but Stitch did not care.
At the end of the day, Stitch was lonely, and Florence was gone.
So he took the opportunity as it came up.
Stitch began to walk around the area, trying to figure out what surprise could have been waiting for him next.
It could have been anything at this point. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they pulled something like last games and reanimated a bunch of tributes.
The thought of fighting people like Zagerus Moon, or Bella Rose scared him for a moment, but he knew that they wouldn’t feel anything.
Regardless if they had any emotions or not.
And Stitch thought about how he should have kept his emotions in check, but he was not the type of person to do so.
No.
He was a boy who had his heart broken, his freedom stripped away, and his life taken from him.
And for what? A chance to prove to everyone that he had the will to live?
Stitch hated the idea, but he couldn’t dwindle on it for too long.
He had to be vigilant, but the Game Makers could throw anything at him at a moments notice.
And so he moved through the forest and watched as pixies floated around him. The light illuminating the way through their backsides.
Stitch admired the sight for a moment before realizing that he wasn’t alone.
His eyes fell for a moment on the girl from ten.
Stitch thought about how old she was. From the looks of it, he would guess that she couldn’t have been older than 12.
She was a young soul. Too young for a place like this.
Stitch though did not want to fight her, because he knew a bit about her backstory.
She grew up in the same orphanage that Bella Rose came from, and while fate always had a funny way of sticking its business where it didn’t belong, Stitch knew that this was more than fate.
It was like the stars had aligned and pointed them both in the same direction. And at this point, Stitch was thinking about telling the stars to fuck off.
He was tired of having some omniscient force tell him what he should be doing.
But of course, there was always more to the story.
As he began to walk away, he caught a glimpse of the boy that he was sure that he was infatuated with.
Andy.
He took a deep breath, turning back around as quietly as he could. He needed to see what was going on before he was certain that this was something that he could avoid.
His mind slipped away into thought as he kept a close eye on the two in front of him.
And he thought about the day that Connor told him that he needed some space from Stitch.
How betrayed he felt since he let someone into his life for the first time in a very long time.
He took a deep breath as he listened to Connor crush his heart with the weight of his hands.
Smashing it into nothing and then tossing it into the open field where a feral dog came out to devour it whole.
And Stitch did nothing but walk away from the situation, because he should have known better.
He should have known that Connor was going to break his heart the moment that he met him.
But Stitch was stupid.
Naïve in his choices.
And he chose to believe that maybe someone could be good to him for once.
and then he came back to reality.
Where he watched as the girl from ten had closed in on Andy.
And as much as he wanted to let it go, Stitch knew that Andy was the closest thing he had to sanity at this point.
”Don’t you dare fucking touch him.” Stitch growled, making himself appear from the bushes that he was hiding behind.
This was his moment to prove that he could take his life, and the things that he wanted into his own hand.
And so he ran out from the bushes and brought it down on the girl who was about to attack.
Because no one was going to steal someone he cared about away from him.
Not now.
Not ever.
.
Stitch attacks Ollie Brooke with his Glaive
BvdLiqQeglaive
[13034 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage
(Glaive)]
glaiveBvdLiqQeglaive
[13034 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage
(Glaive)]