This Is The Bad Place {39ers/Blades/DJ Quest ft. Shy Guy)
Nov 3, 2018 12:20:00 GMT -5
Post by kap on Nov 3, 2018 12:20:00 GMT -5
Sleep tried its best to evade me for most of the night's duration. I, however, didn't let its evasiveness succeed for too long. Managing to doze off as the arena became pitch black in the artificial nighttime that the Gamemakers had created, I had a very vivid dream.
In the dream that possessed my mind's space that night, I was home again. I was the victor. I'd won the Games, and come home to my family, to my friends, and to Jory. This dream was very realistic and convincing, too, to the point where, when I woke up, I almost didn't realize that I was actually still in the arena and no one had died yet. Not a single soul had left its tribute's body on that first day, despite the immense amount of fighting during the bloodbath. No one had died. We were all alive to face another day, and, if I'm going to be completely honest, that scared me. I was afraid of having to kill anyone who didn't deserve it. I wasn't ready to become a murderer. I didn't want blood on my hands.
At this point, though, fighting was inevitable.
When the others awoke that morning, we headed off, venturing away from the Sea Cliffs that we had stayed at that previous night. On our walk, I mostly remained silent, the only words I spoke being directed toward Fiona.
"I'm wearing this hat for you, you know," I told her in a friendly, teasing manner, a slight chuckle emerging from me. "It isn't the most stylish thing in the world, but I'll go with it because your my friend." I smiled when I said this.
I looked ridiculous. Absolutely, positively ridiculous. With a rainbow flag as a cape, a rainbow bow tie and a rainbow hat with mouse-like ears on it, I was pretty much just a walking mess of colors. I assume that the Capitol did this to try to make me feel embarrassed, and, although I'll admit that it was definitely working, I wasn't going to let them know that. They weren't to know how stupid I felt wearing these things. Instead, I'd wear them with pride and act like it didn't bother me at all.
Eventually, when we'd managed to get out of the area of the Sea Cliffs, we came to the very edge of a decrepit forest. The trees themselves didn't seem all that out of place, until we started to walk into the woods. That was when I noticed what was on the ground beneath my feet in various place, like obstacles. It was petrified wood. I made a mental note to be careful as to where I stepped, since tripping and falling wasn't a good thing, especially if we ended up having to fight something, like one of the Capitol's muttations, or, even worse, other tributes.
I tried not to focus too much on my insanely worrisome anxieties, as I knew that I had to focus on my surroundings. I had to not only make sure I knew what was around me, but who, as well. That was when I heard something that sounded a bit out of place. Ceasing the movement of my feet, I put my arm out to let my allies know to stop walking for a moment or two.
"There's someone here," I told them. "A couple people, at least." I stopped speaking for a moment before turning to my allies, looking at them before I spoke again.
"If any of us are going to get out of here alive, we have to be on guard. We might have to fight, too. Just be careful and follow me, okay?" I had never really been the leader type before, but in this instant, I was, and, for some reason, it felt like I was supposed to be that way. I was usually a follower, but today, I was a leader. I'd be making my own decisions. Unfortunately, in the arena, any decision could be the difference between victory and failure. Life and death, that is.
When I was finally able to make out who one of the figures in front of me was, my blood felt like it was starting to boil. My heart was pumping and I was filled with rage. I don't think I'd ever really been filled with rage before, but this new sensation was ever-present.
It was Denali Lyons of District Five. She'd attacked Carmen in the bloodbath without a care in the world about what could happen to her. I mean, sure, I'd attacked her friend when we were all at the cornucopia, fighting for supplies, so I wasn't entirely in the right, either, but it bothered me that I did that, whereas this girl didn't seem bothered at all by what she had done. At least, from what I could tell.
It didn't matter to me right then, though. I was here, and I had the opportunity to get revenge on her for hurting my friend.
Revenge? What had happened to me? When did I become the vengeful type?
It didn't matter.
Machete in hand, I swung my blade through the air in her direction. Whether it was an intent to just harm her to teach her a lesson or to actually end her life, in that moment, I wasn't entirely sure. Although, I didn't care, either. I just wanted her to feel pain.
Clearly, something was wrong with me.
What would Jory think?
897 words
table by Kaplan
art credit: xrhize on DeviantArt
Oliver Wren attacks Denali Lyons with Machete (sword)
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[1120 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage]