Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb]

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 8, 2019 8:00:28 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2019 8:00:28 GMT -5

(There'll be times when your faith is shaken
They're breaking your heart? Then try to hear it pound
Got to know where the real fight lies
When it's time to rise
And stand your ground)

Saturn takes time to patch himself of his wounds. Damaris fades from existence and he’s frightened of the coming night. A part of him has died under the big top – he’s not sure if it’s his courage – and now he feels empty again. He watches the sunflowers sway along in the breeze, the rain having settled to a mist. He shivers and wipes away the blood across his chest, careful to put gauze and bandages, before tending to the scrapes and bruises on his arms and legs. He watches Ex carefully from the corner of his eye, unsure.

The last time he saw the boy, he was too drunk to do much more than stumble out a few words. It was the night Saturn had tried to take his own life – which felt long enough ago, Saturn struggled to think of all that happened in between – and now he finally had another chance. His head and his heart warred; one conspiring that he did not deserve to feel any sort of happiness, or pleasure. The latter aching for any sort of chance to feel good about himself again. He’d lost the only piece of him that made sense. Did that mean he should have turned dark, and away from the other person who’d brought an ounce of happiness?

"It's all ending soon," He says to Ex, and moves into the grass next to him. He is on his side, staring at the various scars the boy has taken. It’s all he knows – the scars on his skin, the few moments of physical touch – and he’s ashamed. They weren’t lovers, or friends. Just two boys left out under a set of stars, as though the minutes left held enough to answer why any of this mattered. "I'm sorry I never got to know who you were."

"Don't worry, Saturn." Ex shifts back, head against the earth, empty eyes toward the direction of the sky. "I didn't either."

"Well..." He traces a hand down from Ex's shoulder to his hand, and then clasps it with his own. He can feel his own heart beat faster. He can smell the sweat on the boy’s skin, the coppery musk shared between them. Saturn stirs, seventeen, hungry, for the first time in days. He doesn’t know what the morning will bring, aside from more death (his own, or Ex’s, or both). But he knows that this is what he wants. "We have now, at least." He smiles and presses his body closer, his chest to Ex’s back, hands snaking along him. He kisses the boy’s neck and holds, eyes closed.

“Tell me what makes you happy."

"What I want....." There is a pause and Saturn begs for him to say his name, wanting nothing more than to be wanted by a boy he scarcely knows. Perhaps he hasn’t grown at all in five days, but then, who is expected to change his whole life in less than a week? But Ex settles, his words coming out as Saturn feels his heart beating faster. ".....is to be alive." Exover reaches back and wraps a hand around Saturn's head, his fingers through the slick of his hair. They are folding into one another, Saturn now wide-eyed, breathless. "Show me what that means."

Saturn begins by slipping off the last of his clothes, so he is naked and bare to the earth, to Ex. His body is alight under the stars, and they are two pressed together. Stars fading, but burning the last of what they have, bright and beautiful. He lets Ex feel his skin, to know him, to know that he has wanted this for some time, through his hands, his bones. From his lips he surrenders gratitude, letting Ex know that he will know what it is to feel, to cherish every inch. No matter that they are strangers, Saturn knows him now, the small of his back, the hairs on his chest. He buries into Exover, two bodies in the tall grass, two boys that know nothing and everything of one another.

He leads the boy, certain not to leave him behind. He listens for quickening breath, for the moments when Exover will hiss at his touch, and draw in air when he’s gone down the right road. Saturn finds the will of Exover intoxicating, enough that he gets lost all on his own, until a hand atop his head guides him. He revels in the smell of sweat, in the murmurings of them both, echoing across the flatlands. Saturn stops only to stare up at Ex, before moving to bring the both down to the earth again.

There’s no glory or love, no better person awaiting him. Just the moment, the pure and unbridled pleasure they take because it is there. Except he knows that this boy wants him, to be alive, and that at least a part of him wants that, too. They snake together in furious motion, Saturn showing his strength, and Ex his tenderness; they are a binary of stars, circling one another, drifting, brighter than before.

Their voices cry out in unison, shadows cast long against the earth. He knows that there is nothing, and no one but Ex in this moment. And Saturn is alive, more alive than he’s ever felt.

He sits back against the grass, empty and dripping sweat, his face flushed. "Last time I told someone to live, she got another three days." He smiles, moves to rest his head against Ex’s chest. "So why don't we keep living?"

"I like that plan." Ex reaches away for his shirt and pulls it back. "But I do have to warn you." In between his fingers, he holds up Sheriff's badge pinned to his shirt. "There's a new sheriff in town."

"Oh?" Saturn laughs, and traces a finger along Ex’s chest. "I think he may have found himself a renegade."

They are young, and lost. But not so lost they cannot find one another, here and now. Saturn pulls Exover close again. They are one and the same in that moment, bodies alight, aching for each other’s touch. He leans forward and draws out another sigh, already finding a rhythm that leads the both of them.

When time has settled, and the stars have begun to fade to the light of day, there are footsteps. Saturn is the first to turn, eyes searching for the source of sound. He covers himself and reaches for his spear, still bloodied, and pauses, spotting a figure.

“Jayne, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He doesn’t know whether or not she’s come to finish them off, but with Ex at his side, he’s ready to die. The fleeting euphoria not yet faded, he smiles through the afterglow.

“What, these old things?” Ex chimes in, and Saturn lets out a laugh for the first time in days.

They spend the morning putting together all the little things Saturn collected – the bits of armor, weapons, plants for all their scrapes and burns – he shares them, because he knows he can’t carry it all, and it’s better that they have some. He still feels heavy, the sadness not gone but farther away than before. He imagines Damaris at his side, the two of them dawdling, and knowing that they are both strong enough for what will come their way. It makes him smile, even as sad as he feels. He liked knowing that he had a friend, even if she was gone.

“Thank you,” He says the Jayne, a girl that’s managed to fight her way just as far with far less. “It’s just the two of us but – I think we’re coming toward the end. Better to stick it out together, until we can’t.”

And so the sun rises, the three of them still in the remnants of the big top.

He takes watch and is the first to see figures corralling in the distance. He can hear the sound of hoofbeats, too – he assumes that Jayne and Ex can, too. There is Ronan, and the boy from three, and girl from five. The boy from nine, too – and so they are more than half of what is left, all of them together.

There is vengeance to be paid, Saturn assumes. The gash across his chest is still seeping, Ronan failing yesterday to finish him. Today he might not fail. Saturn had already decided that morning that he is ready. He has learned what it meant to be brave. He has told the truth of what happened, of his shame, and guilt. He has known friendship, and darkness at its face. And he is ready to fall, just as sure as he fights until his last breath.

“I think they’re looking for trouble,” Saturn says, lighting his spear. He takes a few steps forward. “Jayne, get Ex behind you. Got to see someone about a debt,” Saturn starts off into a jog, then a run. He doesn’t have anything to say. This was death, an end, for what he’d done. But he wasn’t ashamed – he wouldn’t find shame in who he was, not from them – instead, he was proud.

After all, what a waste of energy feeling sorry for people that didn’t matter.

“HNNNNNNG!”

[Saturn Rhodon lights his spear, and attacks Ronan Keeni-Einfallen]

(No, I'm never gonna once have it easy
I'll make mistakes, but my own, and it frees me
Summer's over, it's time to begin
And if you're looking for trouble then count me in
Bring on the monsters
Bring on the monsters
Bring on the real world)

[Bring on the Monsters, The Lightning Thief]

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1-50spear·1-50

kap
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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 8, 2019 8:56:12 GMT -5

Quote

Post by kap on Apr 8, 2019 8:56:12 GMT -5

Everything felt so different after the giant fight in the large circus tent- the big top- whatever one decides they want to call it. Five more tributes were dead, and to my relief, I wasn’t one of them. I knew some of them, though. When the faces showed in the sky that night, my heart felt like it physically hurt upon seeing the faces of Damaris and Leticia just one last time. I didn’t know the other girls who had died that day, but it still hurt to see them pronounced dead. I had heard their cannons when they’d died, and I wanted to cry for them, but I couldn’t. In this arena, I was running out of time for crying.

I thought a lot about home, that night. I thought about Carter, and about my adoptive parents in the Laws family. I thought about the little bit of memory I had of my birth parents, too, but there wasn’t much there. District Twelve as a whole had crossed into my mind, too. The people of the District had always been so kind to me. They would smile as they passed me by, or praise me on my music as I strummed my guitar in the District Square. I really missed that, now, being here in the arena. I wondered if I’d ever see it again. I supposed only time would tell at this point.

Come the morning hours, the sun hadn't quite risen yet, but I had slept, and I was surprised I had slept at all, but I actually felt well-rested. I could only imagine that the reason I slept was because I was so exhausted physically and emotionally from fighting that mutt the day before. I ran my fingers across the cut on my cheek that the beast had given me. It still stung a little, as it was in the healing process, but I’d already wiped away all the blood from it the night before, and it was no longer bleeding now. I thought about the pain I’d experienced, and how it put adrenaline in my veins.

It had given me a motive to fight. I didn’t want to feel pain again, though. I just wanted to fight. I had never felt that feeling as strongly about that as I did now, and perhaps it was just a survival instinct, but I genuinely wanted to strike another tribute. I’d only done that one other time in this arena, and I had a reason for it. It was because Alja had tried to kill me. Now, however, no one was attacking me, and I just wanted to fight. I had to find the right person to fight, though.

When I came across Exover and Saturn that morning, still waiting for the sun to rise the rest of the way, I knew they weren’t who I wanted to fight. It wouldn’t be right. I wouldn’t feel right. Saturn had helped me, and he cared about Ex. That meant that I wouldn’t be raising my weapon on either of them. Instead, we helped one another. They gave me various items meant to help me, and I helped patch them up, their wounds sustained in the previous day’s fight clearly having been much worse than my own.

“Jayne, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” had been Saturn’s words when I’d initially approached the two of them.

“What, these old things?” Exover added in. Then, there was laughter. I hadn’t heard laughter in what felt like ages, and this laughter had emerged from Saturn, of all people. I let a smile come across my face, and it was a genuine one. A pure, genuine smile, showing that I was happy to hear a laugh right then.

“Thank you,” Saturn says to me. They’re words I don’t expect to hear from him, but they mean a lot. “It’s just the two of us but – I think we’re coming toward the end. Better to stick it out together, until we can’t.”

I nodded in response.

”You’re welcome, both of you. Neither of you deserve the pain that you’ve been forced to feel in these Games, and I agree, it’s a good idea to stick together.” Then, I look from Ex to Saturn. Looking Saturn in the eyes, I speak again. ”I’m really sorry that Damaris is gone. I’m sorry I didn’t stop her from dying. I was fighting that mutt, but I couldn’t prevent what happened, and I’m sorry.”

I then look down at my feet before letting my eyes ease back up towards the boys again.

”I’ll help fight with you two, now, though. I’ll do my best to keep you both safe. I owe that to you, Saturn, which means I owe it to Exover in a way, too, I’d say.” Then I continue. ”Let’s do this.”

Then, the sun was up, and there were soon the sound of hooves. I knew what that meant. The tributes who had been on horseback when we’d last seen them, were here. When they came into view, I saw the three of them; Ronan, Severus and Raven. I had been slowly searching my mind for the names of the remaining tributes as the past couple of days, trying to make sure I knew who was who. I wanted to know who it was exactly that I was fighting, should it come down to it.

Another tribute, although not seemingly allied with those on horseback, was there, too. It was Ambrosia, the boy from Nine.

“I think they’re looking for trouble,” Saturn said, his spear now ablaze. He took a couple of steps towards the other tributes and spoke to me again. “Jayne, get Ex behind you. Got to see someone about a debt,” I nodded, even though I knew that Saturn couldn’t see me do so.

I stepped in front of Ex, making sure he was behind me as I lit my own spear on fire.

”Ex, you need to stay back. We’re keeping you safe,” I told him. I wasn’t sure he’d listen, but I could always try to defend those on my side, right?

I lunged towards the same target as Saturn had, hoping I could make contact and keep Ex behind me all the while.

[Jayne Ashbrook-Laws lights her spear, and attacks Ronan Keeni-Einfallen]

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accuracy reroll

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[3167 -- Shallow Cut on Cheek -- 3.5 damage]spear·1-50·spear

Last Edit: Apr 8, 2019 8:57:48 GMT -5 by kap

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 8, 2019 21:56:30 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker kelsier on Apr 8, 2019 21:56:30 GMT -5

a m b r o s i a .

"I've been dreaming
Reality isn't
what it seems
to be"

In the end, he stays there.

The big top burns slow and long into the night, long after Ambrosia's cigarette is gone. He burns a hole in the grass around him, the axes, somehow still lit up and beautiful cause destruction everywhere they go, just like him. He stares down at his hand absentminded, turning it over in his lap again and again. Lightening scars climb up his fingers and up his arms, gentle like tree roots. He looks like he's been struck by stars. He's just like the axes, destruction and brimstone burning at his fingertips.

The axes can't hurt him because he is them.

He's laying on his back, hands under his head when the anthem begins. Colours dance too light across the sky and he squints, the brightness burning him. Ambrosia doesn't look away though, he knows he needs to watch. There, certain as the stars above him, is the little girl that he killed earlier. She stares down at him and Ambrosia stares back, nothing on his face to give him away. She's so young looking in comparison to the others. That's how she'll stay too.

When the Anthem slows and turns off, Ambrosia is alone again. Stars flicker above his head, far too bright to be real. The silence is somehow deafening. Cricket is gone again, he can't remember a time when he hasn't sensed her. She's left him now and maybe he didn't do it well enough, maybe he should have buried Leticia instead of burning her. She lay there so pretty and small.

Francisco is gone, only seen for a brief moment anyway. Ambrosia knows he only hung onto the thought of him out of lonliness anyway, he was never anything special to the other boy. He doesn't kid himself on it either, there's no point. Connections are a waste of time here, they always will be. The life that happens within this arena isn't life at all. It isn't even close to reality. They call Ambrosia crazy for his mutterings but they all watch it happen and do nothing.

The wind glides over the arena, ruffling him and so he flips off the air above the head just in case.

"Hey, knock it off," Titus says and sits down beside ambrosia.

Ambrosia doesn't say anything at first.

"You barely ever talk to me," he says, "Why now? Am I dying?"

He's only ever noticed his brother watching him from far away, farther away than he can hope to reach. This is new, usually it's just Cickle who bothers to speak.

Titus smells like rain.

"I know," he says and runs a hand through his little brother's hair, "But you seemed lonely tonight so I came to keep you company." Titus doesn't need to say it, he was alone in the arena too for a time.

Ambrosia shuts his eyes, revelling in the gentle touch. It's been a long time since anyone touched him with such kindness. "I need to stay up, make sure I don't get stabbed in my sleep," he says softly, even as his eyes droop shut.

"I'll watch for you Ams," Titus says, eyes on the horizon, "You rest."

His brother seems larger than he was. Maybe he is. He takes Titus' hand and cups it against his cheek, the brother he lost years ago and never found until it was too late. He uses his hand as a pillow and he falls gently into slumber.

In the morning, Titus is gone and the sun is high. Ambrosia hears hoofbeats from all sides and he sits up in the dirt, running a hand messily though his dirt-encrusted hair. Small aches and pains nip at him but in all, he feels alright somehow, as if his brother came in the night to heal him. When he looks down, he sees wrapped wounds that he doesn't remember doing himself. It must have been Titus.

He isn't necessarily ready for a fight yet. He's not even eaten but he doesn't have much of a choice either becuase the two groups approaching seem intent on one. Ambrosia's always been excellent at being caught int the middle too. The only one he recognizes is the big guy from six who gave him the cigarette. He doesn't know shit all about the rest of them. Of course he's seen them but in the training center he made a point of not making any friends.

Yesterday, attacking Leticia seemed like an easy choice. Today, he doesn't know what to do and he also doesn't really care. If all of them could die then that would be great for him. He's got too many weapons too. Titus' bat, Leticia's scythe and the flaming axes. He hefts each one as they begin, digging in to eachother and it occurs to him that he could probably just walk away and none of them would notice.

But he doesn't.

He chooses the axe and he swings.

[using this thread for random rolling, Ambrosia attacks Severus with axe]
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axe

Last Edit: Apr 8, 2019 21:59:38 GMT -5 by gamemaker kelsier

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 9, 2019 4:33:24 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Apr 9, 2019 4:33:24 GMT -5

"I-I didn't kill him...."

The first words out of his lips at the sight of a dying Aurora Lachance. Guilt settling deep in his chest, the thought of losing everything in a single fucking moment. If only he could have been faster, he could have taken the hit. He could have taken the blade for her. Aurora Lachance deserved to be here. Not Ronan Keeni-Einfallen. A boy lost in a world full of people who hate him just for existing, nothing changes the idea. Saturn's words cutting through him as if he didn't already know what people thought. The bad guy is what everyone will see him as, but Rory, Severus, and Raven saw something different in him. Rory's head shakes at him.

"I don't care about him. I'm just glad you're here."

"I know." Hand achingly slow as he brushes a strand of hair out from Rory's eyes. "I-I'm glad you're still here too..." He was glad. Glad that he didn't miss her death in person. Eyes taking in every single thing about her, memorizing who Rory was. The weak smile comes to her lips and he's almost breaking into tears already. He's a hero in her eyes. She made him feel like he wasn't wrong. Made him feel like he could be who he wanted to be.

I'm going to miss you, Mr. Not-Doctor. There's no one else like you, you know that?"

The night before where she told him about the truth. Sister to Danny Brooker. There was no one else like Rory. No one else who believed in him despite everything that he is. She saw past the walls he built up. She saw the human deep inside of him when all he wanted to do was not be human anymore. As if he could decide to give up his emotions in order to live a safe life. A performance is all he ever wanted it, but now he just wanted her with him. He wanted Rory to stay with them because he doesn't know what he's gonna do without her.

I'm going to miss you too, Dr. Last Chance." He hums as the forced smile fills his lips. "I know." Her hand reaches for his shoulder as she grasps it firmly, well as firmly as a dying girl can. Tears threatening to fall again. He can't face the reality. Laughed at Riordan for losing his own, but now he understood what it was like.

"Hey. It's going to be okay." The laugh fills his chest with something heavy. Something so heavy. "At least I got a chance to get wasted and pour my heart out, right?" A silence fills as he thinks of how he's glad for everything he's gotten for her. Something in his chest knows the truth. He knows that she's trying to comfort him, but he knows he should be comforting her.

"It's not gonna be okay." It wasn't going to be. It never would. Death deserved to take him, not Rory. "It's never going to be okay. You deserve more than this." Silence in his chest. "At least we got the chance together."

The serious tone in her voice makes him almost jump, but he's getting teary eyed and can't help feeling like his heart is aching. "No, you deserve more than this." The guilt still sits with him, but she's trying to get him to forget it. Forget that he was a waste of space like his mother believed him to be. No one's been on his team ever and Rory was the first in a long time. The first to get past his walls and think of him as something more than the harsh worded asshole of a guy. "I didn't want to lose any of you, and now I don't have to. So I got exactly what I wanted. Okay? Now you have to go on and keep hunting down dreams without me."

"You got what you wanted." Tears actually begin to fall now. Hunting dreams without Rory would never be as fun as with her. There'd always be an empty hole in his heart for Rory. Always a piece missing from the puzzle. He doesn't want to lose her. He doesn't want to lose another friend. "You were my hero. The first person to make me feel like I could do anything again. He's taking everything from me. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to be alone again."

Alone in this fucking world, where he'll be nothing more than a villain in the eyes of everyone else.

"You have to lose me. We were always going to have to lose each other, one way or another." Her thumb moves tears away and spreads crimson into the soft skin of his cheeks. The comfort of Aurora Lachance feeling like a final goodbye. A final performance for Lady Death, dying at the hands of another. They would have lost each other eventually, but this wasn't what he wanted. It should have been him. It should have been him telling her that it would be okay. "But you can do anything, with or without me. And I meant what I said. You are a hero."

There's the determination that he loved about Rory. The comforting words that stick to his chest as he lets more tears fall, mixing with her blood. How could he do anything when he couldn't even save Rory from Saturn? How was he a hero when he could only let his anger take over? The sad smile takes over as he speaks. "I know, but losing you is like losing my heart. You'll always be my hero, Rory." A hero in his eyes. A beautiful soul in his heart. She was everything that he needed, but losing her hurt worse than anything he's been through. His heart was with her, even if he didn't want it to, it was with her and always would be.

Hand running through her hair as he can feel tears still coming. I wish things were different... I wish life gave you a better hand, Rory." A better hand where she didn't have to be put in this game of death. A better hand where her sister didn't have to die. A better hand where she could live a happy life. A better hand where she didn't get stuck with someone as messed up as him.

The smile makes his soften a bit more. "Maybe I can haunt you." A small laugh escapes his throat. The seriousness comes quickly. "You had a heart before me, and you'll have one after. And I'm happy with my hand. I got to help so many people." He can see it on her face. He can see what she regrets. "I just wish... I wish I hadn't killed any." Blood coats her hands, but he can feel himself already wanting to burn that guilt down in a fire. Rory deserved to die happy.

"You've helped me so much more than you'll ever probably know, Rory." Eyes harden. "You did what you had to. My aunt used to tell me not to regret anything, wastes what good you have. Don't regret what you did. It was either them or you. We knew that coming into this." What you had to do, in order to save Severus, a young boy from death. It's either them or you. Death would come for one or the other and that's why they had to fight. Fight for their lives and Rory did what she needed to.

He's proud of her, even if she feels guilty for it.

Ronan wishes he could take that guilt from her and carry it for her.

"You'll see her soon, Rory." His hand going back through those strands with a comforting tone. "You'll be with your sister soon."

"I'd rather be with you."

His heart shatters with that.

He wants to be with her too. Ronan wants to live another life with her where things could be better. Where Rory Lachance could live with a smile on her face forever with a crown of flowers instead of the one she had worn before. He would give up everything to give her another chance, but he's out of chances for that. He's out of luck. He's out of time. He's out of everything.

"But don't you dare come joining me anytime soon, okay? Fight like hell. I know you can."

Ronan's stuck with tears in his eyes. Part of him wants to tell her that he's going to die without her. Tell her that he's gonna be miserable for the rest of his days, however long that was, but he doesn't. Instead he does what he always does, walls himself up and gives a small smile to Rory.

“No promises. But I'll try."

Leaning over gently, he pushes a soft touch to her forehead, like he remembers what he saw in hospitals with siblings of the ill. A sign of affection that signified their love that he had always been jealous of. No one told him, he'd find that same love in this arena.

"I love you, Rory. You'll see me again. I promise."

She would see him again.

Death was around the corner and part him regrets wanting it.

"Love you, too, Ronan." Her eyes drift shut and he breaks down even more. Tears slipping from his eyes. "Give 'em one hell of a show, okay?"

A hell of a show, just for Rory Lachance. Death wouldn't take away anything from them. She would still be with him in his heart. She would still be in his scythe, guiding him through this arena. Eyes close as he listens to Severus sing, arms still wrapped around her body. He doesn't ignore her as he receives his sponsorship. The teddy bear coming in a small parachute with the only note he can tell is Teddy's handwriting. Clear as day, he can see it.

It hurts now. It'll be okay, Ronan. I promise.

Part of him wants to believe Teddy Ursa's teddy bear, but he doesn't.

He holds her for awhile before getting up and letting his last tears fall. He sets the teddy bear next to her where it guards over her body with a fuzziness that makes his chest hurt.

Ronan had a performance to continue.

So he sets out doing the only thing he can think of, working on their armor for the rest of the day.

Ronan doesn't watch the anthem that night. Instead, he can feel their stares up above. Rory is first and his heart aches at the thought of her lifeless image staring down at them. He doesn't want that to be the last memory of her, so he doesn't watch the anthem. The pain still resides in his chest as he continues to keep himself busy with something here or there. Armor fully covering their bodies, he continues to make sure that they live longer with protection. He wasn't going to lose them, not anyone else, unless he decided it was time and even then, he wouldn't lose them.

Raven and Severus were all that he had.

He was not gonna lose another friend again.

Leticia comes across the sky in his peripheral. A moment to actually stare up at the blank stare of home is all he needs to feel the world collapsing around him. None of this was fair. Leticia and Rory both deserved to live longer than him. The poor girl's family must be at home, cursing his name for getting to live. He deserved it. Ronan was nothing more than a monster. A fucking asshole who didn't deserve to live over the two people who were better than him. Leticia was so young and didn't deserve to die like this.

He can remember the way she had stood tall against him. As if she were telling him that she was enough to stand next to him. She was better than him. Leticia had been better than him since the start. All he can do is remember the words on the train of a girl who wanted to be something other than the normal. Not a baker, but a performer. All he can do is hope that she got that chance.

Hope that she got better than what she had.

Home was gone. Love was gone.

All that's left is ruin.

Morning comes in the form of bright lights of the sky that dulls the ache in his chest, but he can still feel the mourning in his chest.

The black feeling of loss in his heart that he can't shake. Rory had been everything to him. Everything beautiful in the world and he had lost those rose colored glasses. All that was left was the urge for vengeance and the flaming anger that was Ronan pre-Rory. Memories of fist fights in the middle of a party where he can beat the shit out of someone just to feel again. The numbness in his chest rises, but he pushes himself up, making sure Severus and Raven wake up. Packing up his supplies, he nods to the other two before speaking.

"We better be heading out. The sun's up which means others will be too."

His horse huffs at him as he stretches his hand along his mane, knowing that the horse is feeling what he is felling. Feet over the side of the beast, he heads out with his head down and his thoughts lost on Rory. If only he could have been better, he could have saved her.

It was his fault.

Saturn still was out there and he couldn't help the guilt rising up his throat.

Almost killed Saturn out of revenge for Rory. He wished he had, but he doesn't get to decide. He doesn't get to decide to kill someone, it's death who does. Death who speaks through their blades, the final say going to them. Vengeance can be what he wants, but all he can do is hope death hears his cries. Pestilence needed her. He needed lady death to help him from whatever place she went. He needs death to give him what he wants.

Fate has it upon herself to give him a chance.

A chance at revenge.

"I think they’re looking for trouble," Saturn's spear lights on fire like the day before. "Jayne, get Ex behind you. Got to see someone about a debt," A debt to pay. As if Ronan deserved to be torn apart. After all, he did make Exover's games a hell. He had pushed the guy over the edge and he couldn't imagine Saturn to be happy over that. Except, the only debt to be paid was Rory. Rory Lachance with her kind words and loving personality. The teasing words at the edge of his ears. Death had to decide who would be taken.

If Ronan got his way, it wouldn't be him.

Saturn moves first with that burning flame of a weapon.

The strike cuts deep into his neck like the day before from the elephant. The crimson comes out painfully, but he doesn't flinch at the hit. If death wanted him, he would accept it. He would accept it to see Rory. Eyes glance to Severus and Raven for a moment, as he can feel someone else charge. Jayne was a dark horse that he didn't expect to be alive, but he moves out of the way with almost ease as the cut barely cuts into his cheek. Crimson swirls in his skin, but he's only got a glare directed at Saturn.

Before he can move, Ambrosia Sin comes through the tent. The guy is just as deadly as before as he swings the ax at Severus. Ronan wants to scream at him to not. He wants to scream that he can't take his home and his dreamer. Doubt fills his body, but he knows Severus can handle himself. He knows that Severus can give quite a punch if he desires to. Ronan's focused on the only person who deserves what he has. The last cigarette is pulled out of the box as he shoves it into his lips, climbing off his horse, patting it's neck.

The scythe comes out with a slow drop to the middle of the handle. The glittering silver staring back at him with that deadliness that makes his skin crawl. Death was waiting for them. The area is surrounded in the faces of their family, their friends, he can tell. Caspar stares back at him and he can almost feel the worry behind those eyes. Caspian stares with the tiredness of a thousand demons behind those brown eyes. Twila's photo makes him feel a comfort in this tent that he hasn't felt before. Riordan's eyes remind him of his dreams lost.

The last face is the one that surprises him the most. She's older than he remembers her being. The hair that curves down her face, lining it with that softness that he remembers. Almost for a second, he breaks, but he stands taller now. She was still out there. She was still his friend. They had promised. Aeson Kight was not who he was, but he wished he had been. At least then he could still see Aeryn Kight, who had given him the chance to be who he wanted to be.

She was still out there.

He couldn't give up.

"Looking for trouble?" The smirk on his lips feels heavier as his eyes darken. The death of Rory Lachance sill fresh in his head. The eyes of his loved ones still staring at him. "You're the ones looking for trouble, Rhodon." The jar of tar is poured over his scythe as he clicks the flint together for a spark. The blade lights on fire as does his cigarette which stays between his lips this entire time. The smirk still remaining on his lips.

"Gonna protect little Ex from us? Don't want to feel how it is to take someone you're close to, huh Saturn." The darkened eyes glare at Saturn as he lets the flame flicker for a little bit as the crimson from his neck continues to go. The flame ever so close to the one that burnt down Tempus. Burned his dream to the ground. The boy of ruin walking among the righteous. What a pathetic thought. He was a hero to Rory, but with her gone, he was no longer a hero.

No, he was no hero.

He was pestilence, the bringer of suffering.

"You call me selfish, yet you're the one who wants to protect Ex for your own selfish reasons." A smirk. "After all, love is always such a selfish thing."

Wrong. His mind screams, but he's gone. He's lost in this new world.

No one believed in him.

"You don't know anything about me and you never will."

Eyes glinting with something sinister in his chest.

"That's the best part, even if you win and I lose, you'll always lose, Saturn. So why don't you make this easy and pay your debt."

The swing is quick as the flame and metal mesh into his own crushed dreams. A thought on the tip of his brain.

Lady Death, be with me.

"Hope you're happy with yourself, Saturn."

(Ronan Keeni-Einfallen lights his scythe and attacks Saturn Rhodon)
LxOQ2qHq0hsword
(Stabbed in Calf 8.5 +1 rivalry)

1-50
(Extinguished)

sword·1-50

Last Edit: Apr 9, 2019 4:34:13 GMT -5 by Tom

Made by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

Arrows
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your resident blonde bisexual boy

Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 10, 2019 7:06:47 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Arrows on Apr 10, 2019 7:06:47 GMT -5

Perennial flowers transform the gardens of the world while basking in the arrival of summer. Their colors capitulate to the beckoning of solar kisses warming the sodden soil of spring. In blooming beds of radiant auroras, there is evolution from emptiness to liveliness. They are the chariots of heaven bringing beauty down to Gaia's grasp while anointing her in a crown of petals. In the unfurling of their folded leaves they personify peace produced by the fragmentation of light. They are bound eternally to an ethereal existence locked to the swells of summer.

They are the unending sentinels of the sun's season, that is until they are plundered and wither at the hands of humanity.

Aurora LaChance is a withering perennial flower.

The edges of her euphoric illumination are tinting. The fullness of her stature is diminishing. Drifting towards reunion with the dust of earth, she is falling slowly through the shifting winds. Severus is nearly an anchor tied to their connection of flesh. A peasant boy at the side of a bleeding saint whose wings of the angelic afterlife are already growing. Soon the winds will quiet and she will settle into silence. He will become nothing more than a lonely peasant boy.

"I've never been good at goodbyes."

The confession stings with the venomous serum of truth. Alone wandering in the abyss between shadow and human, he settled himself. The world continued churning while he watched from behind a network of panes of broken glass. Memories of a girl lost in time with hair the mirror of fire tainted his actions. A loss he could not have prevented, stirred him away from the touch of human connection. It is only the people with him now in the chasm of deprivation that his shroud has been stolen away. A young boy among friends, exposed to their deaths. It's his sister all over again, only this time he opened the door to Death's request.

"Hey, don't cry..."

He hadn't even noticed the drops following the curves of his cheeks on their journey towards the ground.

"This is how I wanted it to go. I didn't- I didn't want to die alone."

His grasp on their unified flesh and interlocked fingers tightens. The shards of his slipping soul still stain the features of his face, their water cold like the presence of her hand.

"You won't, we're going to be with you every step of the way."

His voice trips over the scattered segments of stone that once kept his heart beat.

"I'm proud of you Aurora LaChance. And I'm proud to know you."

The words echo their twins, spoken only an hour earlier from the lips of the one who's ears receive them now. There is a resurrection of silence disturbed only by the subtle sound of the tent's rippling banners. Every second of silence Severus fears she has left them. He is frightened for the sound of her final breath. But she breaks the pause, there is still more life stored in her bleeding stem.

She sews a story laced with the painful perfume of truth. She paints a picture of two girls bound by friendship, but bound tighter by the blood hidden between them. The name of the girl is familiar, shared by that of a fallen face in the year of District Three's most recent victor. Severus knows what she is saying, sharing with the world. She is like him, tethered to a loss in a world constructed in the same immoral confines as this one.

A sibling of a tribute that did not become a victor.

He nods. He holds her hand tighter still. He comforts her the best way a fourteen year old can, the best way another sibling of the lost can manage.

"It's okay. She'll be okay... It'll be okay."

Because that's all it is.

Just okay.

Every smile will seem a little shadowed. Every laugh will seem a little darker. Life will go on, but it will be filled with scattered reminders. Moments of memories that will never go away. In the smallest of things she will see her sister's face. In the happiest of achievements, she will notice her sister's absence. Her life will go on and she will live, but it will just be okay. Nothing more, nothing less.

While talking with Ronan and Raven, Rory's hand loses strength. Her eyes begin to dull, cast into under tone by her leaking life. Severus' fears return.

He isn't ready.

He isn't ready.

His heart is pounding.

His hand is shaking.

Dear Ripred, he isn't ready.

But it isn't about him.

"I can sing for you, if you want?"

His final gift to a girl as brilliant as the sun which gave her flower life.

"That'd be wonderful, Sev."

His voice finds flight on the winds of his breath. A song rises that he learned from a friend's mother. A song seemingly perfect for departure.

"At times I've been flying high
O' crawling on the ground is just a matter
Of the roll of the dice

But I feel the warmth of her hand
I smile and I understand
Why everybody lives on
Everybody lives on

See the world sometimes
Can be unkind
But I tell you it's a beautiful life

I’m treading old roads
And there’s stories to be told
Yeah, I tell you it's a beautiful life
It's a beautiful life

The morning light o' in my eyes
I smile and I realize
Yeah, I'm awake I'm alive

I've had pressures so heavy on my mind
But I look into those eyes
And it all seems to rise
It all seems to rise

See the world sometimes
Can be unkind
But I tell you it's a beautiful life."

Her hand releases.

Her flower kisses the earth.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The faces of night bring too much familiarity. Severus' pen shakes adding each one to the growing collection of his journal. He spends nearly an hour perfecting his picture of Rory. In every feature of her face, he molds segments of their time together. By the end, she is as kind looking as she was when she was with them.

There is a heaviness with the arrival of morning. Ronan is different without Rory around, he's hurting in ways that Severus can't fix. Severus remembers the nights they all spent together, the dances and the laughter they shared because they were all just kids. But that's cruelest part of it all, isn't it? It's kids dying. One day laughing and talking about futures, the next being dead with nothing to come.

There're all just kids.

Severus finds himself by Raven this morning. Each time he looks around he expects to see Rory there, but there's always nothing. He needs something to stop the thoughts, to distract the pain for a little awhile. His tears still trickle on occasion but he needs a break from them entirely. He looks for any kind of life line.

"Do you think we are still following their footsteps?"

His words relate back to a long lost conversation about the paths of Kiena and Dove. The sound of horses trotting fills the gap of silence.

"Do you still want to find her? Or do you want to get home to your other siblings?"

Severus isn't even sure he is asking her the questions, or himself. He's not sure where his mind is supposed to be right now.

While waiting for an answer his mind drifts off on a current of thought. The arena seems so familiar now, its corners no longer mysterious. From here he could find his way to any place. To the fluctuating waves of yellow sunflowers or the dried bed of the ancient river. He could even find his way back to the beginning, to where the sheriff's office stood with walls painted red by their weapons. It is startling how small this place is starting to feel as its number of occupants dwindles. His thoughts prove too accurate.

Four others await them as they dismount their steeds. Severus' skin stands up on an edge of steel at the sight of the boy who ended Rory's life. Emotions of rage and sorrow surge into a tempest of anguish. Severus' hands no longer shake while holding his scythe, now even he has a reason to strike. But Ronan moves first.

Severus wants to drive his blade into the heart of the beast from One, but knows a faster route. He spots the boy he has seen, fought, and scarred time and time again. A boy with a connection of affection to the devil shooting fire at the neck of Ronan. Severus has to do something now before he loses another friend, another ounce of his heart. Rory told him among her final minutes to keep going, and for her he will. Selfishly to avoid further pain to himself, he will.

He's tired of being boy tied to loss.

"Do you love him?"

Severus asks the boy from Ten as fire matching the passion of Rory and hair of Kiena catches across the curve of his blade.

"Because love here never lasts. It only kills its hosts."

Lyrics from Beautiful by Apeiron

Incredible Table by Dars

~*~ Severus Ward lights his Scythe on Fire ~*~

Severus Ward attacks Exover with Flaming Scythe{Sword}
NVaDK2HHDHsword
{Stabbed in Forearm -- 8.5 damage +1 Blades}

1-50
{Results}

sword·1-50

Last Edit: Apr 10, 2019 7:14:04 GMT -5 by Arrows

Graphic by the Breathtakingly Talented Stare

Cameo {RIP Charlie}
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last seen Nov 22, 2024 5:15:14 GMT -5

#It'sAPoundSymbol

Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 10, 2019 22:49:56 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Apr 10, 2019 22:49:56 GMT -5

The concluding moment of the heart-breacher Rory prolongs in a repeat upon my thoughts and internal visuals, like a bittersweet nightmare that I despise to never forget. Even a sputter, as if it were an antique record performing a forever loop, sounds in my mind with every replay. It feels as though the likes of my eyes are still enlarged with disbelief, frozen that way from when I collapsed down to my knees with the others around her depleting existence. Still my breath occasional hiccups as if the recent memory were truly continuing in a torturous cycle. There’s nothing I can do to stop it, just as there was nothing I could do to stop her from leaving us.

“You take care of them, you hear? Have their backs like you had mine.” She demanded with such a suggestive tone. It was a last request, yet one of which I still feel unworthy of. From the start of my volunteer I entered with the premise of dying. In a matter of hours a group of misfits altered my goal to protecting them without even an inquire, and in a matter of seconds I failed that unexpected goal… and them.

Unintentionally my head shook back and forth in a claim to not promise such an unreachable desire, and words she didn’t need to hear professed from my lips. “I can’t take care of people, you know that. I’m not good at that like you are…” My eyes dropped in shambles, my voice along with it. “Clearly I’m not even good at having people’s backs.” A cough rumbled through my throat in a seek to clear it, along with the pessimism I may never be able to shake. “We’re going to fall apart without you.” It’s the last thing she deserved to hear in her final moments, yet the truth was suddenly spilling from me uncontrollably.

“No you’re not.” Determination seemed to coax from her voice in strength like I never witnessed before from a departing soul. “You’re going to keep it together and keep fighting. Okay? The world doesn’t stop and start with me.” Such true words from such a true existence. “And you’ve done a great job at protecting us. This isn’t your fault.”

A breath nearly whistled into my lungs, as if that may inhale the tears that were craving to drop down my cheeks. It was her on her last few breaths, yet it was all the ones around her that were crumbling far worse. She didn’t deserve such. “I’ll keep fighting. And I’ll protect our boys, for you. But I can’t promise to keep my shit together." An ironic laugh pierced past my tongue, suddenly desperate to be her strength in her farewell. “All that I can promise is that I’ll wreck havoc to all who laid a finger on you.” Because she did deserve a promise that not everything will go to hell once her eyes shut one last time.

A smile slithered across her lips so pristinely, it even brought a wobbly one to my own. If only more smiles had exchanged between us before then. “You do what you have to do. Thanks for carrying me this far.” Sternness was forced upon my grin, dedicated to see her out with confidence even if it were a facade.

“Any time, Rora. I’m sure we’ll see each other again, and I’ll carry you there wherever and whenever we meet once more.” A part of me even smiled internally, while the other side was sobbing to plead with her not to go -

“Do you think we’re still following their footsteps?” Severus’s voice of innocent maturity finally yanks me from the vicious cycle of sorrowful joy. A few blinks finalizes my pull from the trance, before I gaze at his round face of youth.

It takes longer then I expect to convince my tongue to work once more to form words. “I now think that everyone’s too different to follow in anyone’s footsteps exactly. Yet we’re all too similar to not be following in everyone’s footsteps to a certain degree…” A jumbled mess stutters from my core in a probably gibberish manner. Clearly I should leave the words of wisdom to the baby from three.

Another question rises from his curiosity, though a hint of concern seems to plague gently in his tone. “Do you still want to find her? Or do you want to get home to your other siblings?” Wonder bubbles from his voice, leaving me guessing if he’s worried over losing another ally.

A lie tempts on my tongue to ease his worries, while it’s beyond obvious this kid is too smart for such. “Knowing that would be like knowing which Sibling is my favorite.” Lightheartedness seeks from my tone as I give him a playful wink. “And I hate all my siblings equally.” Is it an urge to humor the mood, or to personally raise his own, that’s sculpting my comments? “But I think I’m finally at a place where I know I don’t have a say in my own fate.” A shrug rolls my shoulders before I continue.

“I hope you’re not on a suicide mission to see your Sister though, mini man.” Gently my elbow nudges into his’ arm almost in a childlike manner. “I may have no control over what happens, but I’m sure as hell gonna try to control what happens to you. And if I leave this place trying to keep you and Ro alive, I’m sure my Siblings will understand.” Darkness reigns the meaning of my words, while my pitch remains buoyant.

The energy upon Ronan appears dense and quiet, yet there’s no doubt he’s been shattered just as we have been. “We better be heading out. The sun’s up which means others will be too.” And there’s also no doubt who he seeks to be up, and who he craves to run into.

And sure enough that vengeance we all cry to meet comes face to face with us. The majority of words sound to be mute to my understanding when actions need to take place. All that I can hear is the sternness of that boy’s features from One, the irritation of his muscles, and the stains of lives he’s stolen upon his hands. Other’s are with him as well, the blind boy whom my blade has meet many times over, and a girl whom my eyes have scarcely gazed upon - and even now my stare is solely upon the One who had taken Rory from us.

The true meaning of revenge appears to finally grace me with its presence in this very moment. Weapons collapse upon both the boys I would sacrifice my entirety for, yet my attention is tunneled into a sole goal. The likes of my pulse, and the beat of my pounding heart, speeds as if I’m just meeting the existence of them. Fingers flex upon the handle of my weapon, and suddenly all that matters is kissing this blade upon his’ skin. His skin who brought flame and destruction to someone I love. His skin who deserves exactly what he put her through.

Without even realizing it a jar that I’ve stored from the beginning actually greets the sun above within my palm. The sticky substance glides upon my weapon, and suddenly I also pertain the fire I’ve seen so many others wield. Protecting has always been my mission, while revenge forces something entirely else from my core. Desperation sparks the kindle, and my determination does the rest.

{Breathtaking Table done by the Beautiful Dars <3}

{Raven lights her Hatchet on Fire}

{Raven attacks Saturn ~ Flaming Hatchet (Axe)}
b6czPcRscQaxe
{11133 -- Block -- 0.0 damage
(Axe)}

1-50
{Moderate Burn +4}

Accuracy Reroll

axe
{11091 -- Shallow Cut on Back of Head -- 4.5 damage
(Axe)}axe·1-50·axe

Last Edit: Apr 10, 2019 22:57:58 GMT -5 by Cameo {RIP Charlie}

So Many Different Personalities

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MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine

Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 11, 2019 3:47:41 GMT -5

Quote

Post by cameron on Apr 11, 2019 3:47:41 GMT -5

He was already blind, but Exover wished he were deaf, too.

A few seconds into another long-winded spiel from the smokestack through which Ronan bellowed and Deputy Endor had had enough. From the third day on, the boy from six had touted himself as the big bad wolf, the villain, he'd said, of the eighty-first. And he was rude, he was hostile. He was cruel with words. He carried himself with an untapped anger and a hardness like no other, a hardness learned through trials much more taxing than his own. Annoying as he was, Ex knew a softer boy lived inside. A softer boy who'd pressed lips against chapped lips and screamed out at the sight of his fallen ally. There Ronan had it easy, had eyes to see with, to know with. To not be left in the dark.

To not be pitied by another and carried away from his last friend's dying body. To have full agency of who he was.

He wasn't a hard ass. He was just an ass.

(An ass with full agency of who he was.)

Jayne stepped in front of Ex at Saturn's command, and suddenly he felt as small as he had on the broad shoulders of his favorite planet, ripped from Finley's body and hurled into the endless darkness outside. A trickle of blood slid down his torso, down Saturn's back, from where she stuck him deep with her Sheriff's badge. His Sheriff's badge. There was no way he deserved the promotion after failing at his sole duty as deputy and letting the firecracker fizzle out, falling before the grand finale, but he took it as her final wish. With Mr. Cactus Friend between his helmet eye stalks and the bones of Savior Powermaker in his hand, he wanted to do nothing short of honoring her wishes.

It was hard to run a tight ship when the ship ran him over, beat the wood of its hull against his frame and stripped him of his fight. Even the boy who'd joined his body in one united sea had ordered him rearward, delegated him to the backseat. Ex wanted to speak up, to remind them he, too, could fight; but nobody liked a backseat driver (or captain?). Especially not one without eyes.

Severus spoke instead, and the brief moment he spent thankful dissolved when he remembered he wasn't deaf after all. “Do you love him?” The question cemented his feet to the ground, and an emptiness in his stomach screamed like the boy who threw his glass eyes off a cliff, like a mother watching her thirteen year old son die in the hunger games, like he wanted to do right then. Love? Did he love Saturn? He didn't even know him. Hours wrapped between sheets, tears over moonshine, a need for comfort in the most overpoweringly panicked time of his life did not make love, didn't grow love in the unwatered garden of his heart.

But his jaw hung open and he tasted One's life on the tip his tongue and he knew he could speak his name for hours. Saturn. Saturn. Saturn. Knew he could count on him to be there while the walls of his head filled with terror. Did that mean he loved him? Did it mean anything?

“I'm sorry I never got to know who you were,” Saturn said the night before, or maybe earlier that morning. The hours bled together in pain and pleasure, but then he still ached for his friends, and ached for himself every bit as much. A yearning for life had bewitched him in the days leading up to the clusterfuck fight. He felt each individual wound call home to the moon as he laid down on his side, and he knew that the flowers of yearning wouldn't bloom till too late in the season, would die before it ever had a chance, like Francisco and his orchard, like Saturn and his vindication, like Exover and his zest. The enthusiasm for figuring out the deep-rooted trenches of his skull and where they take him. “Don't worry Saturn,” he turned onto his back, face to the heavens, “I didn't either.”

For the first time, he wanted to extend his time. Wanted more of everything, to know who he was and to jump into the ocean and to drink poison with confidence. He wanted to live because he learned to love, through Stanley and Finley and Savior, and, yes, now through Saturn. Now through Jayne, who helped them despite it being a direct detriment to her longevity, who selflessly and thoughtlessly placed herself between Ex and the enemies.

Hell, he even felt something bright in his trenches when he thought about Ronan. When he remembered the sever-savvy kid who always followed closely behind was exactly that: a kid, not some evil incarnate grown from the capitol's lab. (Not when he thought of the other one. She stabbed him in the actual back and fucked up his calves and he felt no love for Miss War and her black feathered soul.)

“Because love here never lasts. It only kills its hosts.” But love was in his veins as surely as Saturn Rhodon had been inside him, and that couldn't be a hindrance to the loveless lifeless boy who'd found both in the arena. His dried lips spread thin and wide and his cheeks reddened, warm, sunny. His life was spent iced out and frigid, but he'd now taught himself to feel the heat and embrace it, to let it build him taller, and stronger, and sturdier. It was new. It was scary. And he liked it.

In fact, he loved it.

Blade metal whirred his way but Beverly nibbled his ear and he jerked his arm up, sword buried in his vambrace instead of his neck. Fire burned his flesh and the ash hit his nostrils fast. But Exover Endor smiled like the planets aligned around him, the sun, and nothing could be brighter.

“You're wrong, kid,” his grin spreading, “you're dead wrong.”

Exover lights his boney spiked blunt on fire, attacks severus ward
CO|nzzlnIMspiked blunt
Stabbed in bicep 8.5 + 1 = 9.5

Fire
1-50

spiked blunt·1-50

Last Edit: Apr 11, 2019 6:23:25 GMT -5 by cameron: To fix what I broke in Ryan's awesome table!!!

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 11, 2019 23:04:48 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2019 23:04:48 GMT -5

TW: Assault
(There'll be times when your faith is shaken
They're breaking your heart? Then try to hear it pound
Got to know where the real fight lies
When it's time to rise
And stand your ground)

When Ronan starts his diatribe, Saturn pulls back, spear still flickering hot behind him. The boy from six pokes at his wounds to say Saturn doesn’t know what it’s like to have someone he was close to taken from him. That he loves Ex – but this is wrong, and Saturn shakes his head – that he’s selfish, to which he nods, because it’s the first true thing he has heard Ronan say.

“Yeah sure, I love him so much maybe I’ll marry him,” Saturn spits back. “Want to get married, Ex?”

Fuck yeah I do! Ex is quick to reply, dopey grin and all.

Except the joke stings him more, cuts deep when he thinks that they’ve got maybe a few more minutes before one of them is dead. Better dead than a long engagement, right?

Saturn takes a breath for himself, a moment, while Ronan waxes about winning, and losing, as if any of it was so damn important that the world was better for it. They are not great philosophers, nor are they friends. They are shadows passing through darkness, barely visible to one another, figments at the corners of each other’s vision. If one or the other fell it would be only sound, and then – nothing.

‘Hope you’re happy with yourself, Saturn.’

When Damaris had lay dying in his arms, he had begged her not to leave. His flesh was that of a warrior but his spirit was still that of a child. Arrested in his development, stuck at a crossroad that he still struggled to find the way forward. There was anger, for all that he could not properly feel. The anguish that he’d always have across his own skin because of what someone had done to him, he had felt that there hadn’t been a point to living. He could still imagine the morning after his assault all empty and broken, a ghost walking among the living, and how even those he thought he’d loved were so distant and far away. He had done his best to exist as they had wanted him to. Except all he knew was the same emptiness, the lonely shadow of what had been taken always conspiring against his happiness.

There would be times of immense sadness, when he could not rise from bed because there was no comfort outside of the walls of his bedroom. He found no joy in a world that had been a lie. A place where he trusted good men to do good things, and bad men to be punished. Instead he found that men and women could do a great many wicked things, that his life was worth only as much as what could be taken or what he could give. There are no happy endings except in fairy tales, and he felt the sadness creep through his bones, like arsenic sidling inside his body. He turned instead to questioning what he had done wrong, to know that his body was currency, that love, or happiness was illusory, and ephemeral.

He knew what shame was, bricks upon his shoulders, to hunch him down, make him smaller, to have him look away at the sight of another staring for too long. To wake next to someone and think of all the mistakes he’d ever made, and that history would always repeat itself for Saturn Rhodon. Because he knew that this world was made up of many men who took for themselves, used what they could for their own purpose, to make boys like him pretty things as though they were jewelry, when they were not things – they were people. And to those that would see him swagger and drink, and carry on, that would see the anger or pain, those that would not have kind words but rather contempt – because this was what boys like Saturn deserved, wasn’t it?

How much easier it was to pass judgment on the good or bad another does, and not think of a whole person? Reductive as it was, it helped boys like Ronan make a safe space for themselves, to build their own little world out of harm’s reach. And Saturn could be angry at this but he could know, too, that such sadness creates a need for an escape.

He remembers the bravery of Damaris, telling the truth about how she had wanted all of it to end. He remembers her kindness, the simple act of empathy that changed his life, in that she did nothing more than listen. He had fallen apart and put himself back together, had torn at her with words, and while she had taken him to task for what he’d done, she had put herself there for him. She had been genuine – not a smile and an apology for what she could not feel so that he would stop speaking – but had been the one to show him that they must strive to do better, to be better. And to keep living, even when things got hard. Even when they didn’t think they could.

The girl from five slashes into his helmet, breaking through the silence and opening a fresh wound on his scalp. He turns, spear pointed and ready to run her through. But he finds no fire there, no anger to push him toward revenge. He sees a girl he doesn’t know, hitting him for whatever reason (her ally’s death? For his continued existence?), and he turns away. Revenge, vengeance – they are tools of an empty man’s chest, used to create the ugly and the wicked.

He knows that he must do what is hardest, what he still has not done.

He forgives himself.

For not being perfect, for what he cannot control. For the deaths of two others that wanted to live so desperately. For all the things that he has said because he is in pain, that he has said because of wanting to be a part of what he was born into. And for not being as strong as Damaris, for taking so long to learn a lesson, to become stronger, to see forward and not backward, to stop blaming himself.

He sees Jayne, standing brave and fighting with them, for them. Exover, giving and kind, a boy who in another life could’ve taught him what it meant to love another. He loves them, but not for what they have given to him, but that they have made him stronger, better.

And of himself?

I am enough, he thinks.

“I forgive you, Ronan,” Saturn says, surprising even himself. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand, and that’s okay.” He takes another breath, moving forward. He closes his eyes and swings.

“HRRRRRRRRRRAH!”
[Saturn Rhodon attacks Ronan Keeni-Einfallen with his flaming spear]

(No, I'm never gonna once have it easy
I'll make mistakes, but my own, and it frees me
Summer's over, it's time to begin
And if you're looking for trouble then count me in
Bring on the monsters
Bring on the monsters
Bring on the real world)

[Bring on the Monsters, The Lightning Thief]

5ODC1t_5qjspear

1-50spear·1-50

kap
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trans rights are human rights <3

Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 12, 2019 8:41:26 GMT -5

Quote

Post by kap on Apr 12, 2019 8:41:26 GMT -5

When my spear first struck Ronan, I felt a slight pang of guilt flow through me, but I couldn't let myself stop now. Saturn and Exover had both been hit, and it wouldn't take too much more to take out Ronan. It wasn't until then, however, that I was reminded of how it felt to help kill a person. I'd helped kill Alja, my own ally, after she'd attempted to murder me in my sleep, and now, I was helping potentially take down Ronan as well.

I saw a paper flutter down in front of me, landing on the ground. I was going to ignore it, until I saw the face that graced the front side of the paper, designed as a wanted poster. It was the face of Carter Laws. Was this the Capitol's way of taunting me? Was it their way of seeing if I was weak? If I'd let it get to me? I couldn't let them see that it bothered me, so I looked away from the paper, having given it only a quick glance. I had something much more important to focus on than the Capitol's taunts. This fight was much more important right now. It was a life or death situation for every one of us here.

Words were spit out between tributes, and weapons struck between them, too. Blood spilled and surely plenty of pain was felt. There was fire, there were blades, and there was plenty of yelling. Then... forgiveness? Saturn told Ronan that he forgave him, yet struck him another time after he said this. This fight wasn't over. Forgiving Ronan wouldn't stop it.

Carter wouldn't want to see me spill someone else's blood, surely, but if it meant I would survive, would he approve of it? I just hoped he would be proud of me.

A cannon sounded, but no one in the big top had fallen. No, that meant that someone, somewhere else, had died, almost surely killed at the hands of another tribute, as I doubted that the Gamemakers would send mutts after us today, with how much tension there was, following the feast. It also didn't seem likely that any sort of natural occurrence had killed whomever it was. Regardless of how it happened or who it was, though, someone else was dead. There were ten of us left. Would that number further dwindle soon?

[Jayne Ashbrook-Laws attacks Ronan Keeni-Einfallen]

rj7e230d_Gspear
[3172 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage]

spear

Last Edit: Apr 12, 2019 8:42:44 GMT -5 by kap

gamemaker kelsier
Graphics

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 12, 2019 13:19:49 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker kelsier on Apr 12, 2019 13:19:49 GMT -5

a m b r o s i a .

"I've been dreaming
Reality isn't
what it seems
to be"

He's ignored.

Ambrosia saw this coming since that first silent train ride. His time in the training centre had been quiet too and now silence reigns freely over him. There's not much sound but for Saturn's grunts of effort. Ambrosia tries one under his breath, not trying to mock anyone for once but purely curious as to how it might sound. It comes out as a soft growl, he sounds like a mangy dog in an alleyway guarding a piece of trash meant to be his meal.

Everyone is entitled to their battle cries, no matter how silly they might be. Ambrosia used to attack silently back in nine and he still does now, moving on from Severus' as if he was simply a fencepost that he'd struck with his axe. He's got no vendetta against any of them, no interest in letting any of them live either. Attacking all of them is the best choice.

He stalks tributes around the burnt and tattered tent, seeking out a place to rest his axe. There's so much fear around him, so much desperation. Everyone wants to live just one more day. He isn't so certain about that for himself. He knows he might be a little bit crazy now but that's largely gone unnoticed by anyone else. No one has ever tried to help him handle the voices that plague him. Since his twin sister Cickle died, he's been alone.

In a mentally ill world, he can expect nothing less.

He sees a head bobbing amongst the tributes and knows that it would be a perfect place for an axe head to rest. He brings his weapon down hard, lips pursed together tightly to stop any blood from getting in his mouth.

[using this thread for random rolling, Ambrosia attacks Exover with axe]
ZeeFDBNk|paxe
[Deep Gash on Left Calf -- 8.0 damage + 1 strength]

elegant

axe

Last Edit: Apr 12, 2019 13:23:52 GMT -5 by gamemaker kelsier: table needed more space

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

Tom
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OowoO

Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 12, 2019 15:56:03 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Tom on Apr 12, 2019 15:56:03 GMT -5

"I forgive you, Ronan," Pathetic. "I don’t think you’ll ever understand, and that’s okay."

Absolutely pathetic. The words are static upon his ears. A fizzling crack of stupidity, not because Saturn's stupid, but only because they mean absolutely nothing to him. He doesn't want forgiveness. He doesn't want Saturn to pity him, especially not after killing Rory. The person in this god forsaken world that held him up. I'll try. He told her he'd try to survive. What a useless promise that it's turned out to be as the spear cuts into his arm and the flame burns. Almost for a moment, it feels like Rory is embracing him with the flame. Embracing him with a love that burns so deep in his chest that he's on fire and turning to ash like the ruin he creates.

Pathetic.

That's what his mother used to say.

Told him he was pathetic. Should have left him with the god awful Keenis. At least then, he might have been able to be loved by someone. Shown something more than being called mentally insane and broken. As if he deserved that peace, no, he created this ruin. He's the monster in everyone's story. He's the bad guy in everyone's eyes and nothing will ever change that. The words of Ex ringing in his ears like the static drum of pain that flushes through his veins. Crimson stains his clothes and blood oozes with an exhaustion.

Because love here never lasts. It only kills its hosts.

Love. Love's never even existed here. Ex didn't know what love was, just like he didn't. The lingering kiss still on his lips from days ago. Bloodied lips and broken emotions getting the better of them. Love never exists in this place, not even his love for Rory. All that exists is ruin that they walk on. The ashes forming a tightrope that they walk on to compete for a silly crown among the bodies of others. An ultimate performance where only one performer walks out. Sadly for him, he's taken the role of a dead man.

His mother would laugh at this sight, despite considering herself by that name. His father would shrug and move on with his life. No one's waiting in Six for him, except Aeryn Kight, but even then, it's been too many years since they even have seen one another. Riordan talked about how volunteering was the only escape from his pain. The only escape from the sorrow that lingers in his chest. Ronan gets it now. He understands his cousin far more than he ever thought he would. Death doesn't scare him, death only empowers him. A way out of everything. A way to not be the bad guy that he was in everyone's eyes.

Hell wouldn't be so bad, if it meant never having to suffer from his past.

"Ex."

Hell wouldn't be so bad.

"Will you come visit me in hell?"

A smirk on his lips as Ronan smears blood across his own face trying to brush the pain out of his hair. Red, just like the fire that he was. The spreading of pestilence that he was. Color him red with the blood of ruin. Death was coming closer and part of him hoped it would be Rory. Lady Death taking him away from this hell of a life. Nothing left for him here. Nothing left for Ronan to believe in, except his scythe. Severus and Raven fighting like their lives meant it.

No deaths to his name except a puppy according to Savior. Always right in calling him a bitch. Whining and complaining constantly in order to keep himself sane, as if he were. As if he hadn't been put in a mental ward because he wanted to wear makeup and put on a dress like the actresses, pathetic little Ronan. Never the type to learn a lesson. Just like now, he wasn't going to learn his lesson until he was dead.

Hell wouldn't be so bad.

He's the bad guy.

The boy of ruin.

Pestilence.

"No."

The smirk of a dying man.

"You'll never understand."

Severus Ward would still dream without him.

Raven Elsu would still fight until the bitter end without him.

No one needed him.

Not anymore.

All he could do was hold the glittering silver scythe up, staring at the crimson of his own blood that had fallen onto it. The pain of his mother, the ignorance of his father, the pain of his cousin, the silence of his friend, the memory of Rory, the dreams of Severus, the drive of Raven, and the ruin of Ronan. He pushes himself forward onto his feet with pain echoing through his pain that he can't even feel anymore from the anger in his veins and the exhaustion of his body. Ronan's the bad guy, the image he's put forward in his performance.

No one would know the kid who cried for hours in a mental ward.

No one would know the Ronan who wanted to be like the pretty actresses.

No one would know the guy who helped girls escape from shitty situations at parties.

No one would know the guy who would stop on the streets and help kids clean up their wounds.

No one would know the guy who left half of his food out for the homeless man across the hall from his room.

No one would know the Ronan who was jealous of Exover who was stronger and knew who he was.

No one would know the Ronan who wished Leticia to go home and follow her dreams.

No one would know the Ronan who fought for Severus to keep dreaming.

No one would know the Ronan who let his walls down to let Rory in and see the truth.

All they will ever know is the boy of ruin, the villain of the eighty first, an angry man.

"I'll make sure to say hi to Damaris for you, Saturn."

The smirk of a dying man.

Hell wouldn't be so bad.

(Ronan Keeni-Einfallen attacks Saturn Rhodon; Scythe)
FJMrik|cl0sword
(Deep Gash on Right Bicep 8.0 +1 Rivalry)

sword

Last Edit: Apr 12, 2019 15:57:00 GMT -5 by Tom

Made by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 12, 2019 17:20:05 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Arrows on Apr 12, 2019 17:20:05 GMT -5

The sorrowful symphony of Persephone's peril coats the land in agony. The wailing swells and the halls of Hades usher newly slaughtered souls to their keeping. Although Demeter's glory graces Gaia in a bounty of life, Hades halts the summer songs with his continuous theft of the living. In his hands, he burns to ashes the hearts of humans fallen into his fires of fury. Their souls he shatters at the will of his pleasure, just as he has with the original daughter. Thus, Severus is well aware that within this arena of atrocities, they are nothing more than puppets in the Devil's game.

The blonde boy bends to the beckoning winds of wraiths. Overhead the thunder of death lays claim to another face soon to find space in the folds of Severus' journal. A stranger now unities in the bellowing of banshees as his humanity dies in metallic fire. To a nation of watchers, he diminishes to nothing more than the newest split second supernova. They feast off the emotional energy of the death they planted and now harvest, fuel for their white serpent king. They are all part of a hellish hierarchy that Severus has no time for.

He exists only in the presence of the current moment.

A familiar phantom replaces Ronan's shadow with a more sinister specter. Death still bound to the leash of Hades dances in the growing darkness of Ronan's gaze. His hands of ice play the chords of Ronan's life like nothing more than strings soon to be snapped. Severus can feel the tsunami coming, the dead eyes of Rory returning to his mind. He hasn't had enough time to heal yet, it's too soon to be preparing for another farewell.

Severus has to reach him, his heart burning as brightly as the fire of his scythe. He can still feel the brush of Ronan's hand ruining the clean locks of his hair. He can still remember the smirk of humor Ronan shared when Larceny Theft learned the truth of Severus' mind. He can still see Ronan and Rory lost in the dance of his song beneath the light illumination of glowing embers sinking in the starlit sky.

He can still see all this, all that's left worth fighting for.

Severus' gaze flutters back to the boy before him, his fingers tightening around the neck of his blade. He will make the Beast from One see him. He will force him to realize what happens when he steals the life of someone as important as Aurora LaChance. He will make him feel with every ounce of his being the same loss which still lingers prominently in Severus' cells.

He will take in order to save.

Choose who's life matters.

Ronan over a boy from Ten.

A decision a child shouldn't have to be making.

Severus' eyes glint with the flicker of his flames. He holds himself up like Rory would want him to, like Kiena would be proud of him for doing. He questions the words he's speaking. Does he love Ronan and Raven? Or did One steal that with Rory? The young teenager knows only that it's different now, colder now. He is living by breathing the frosted flames of grief.

"If you say so," he moves, "then let your love bury you."

Lyrics from Beautiful by Apeiron

Incredible Table by Dars

Severus Ward attacks Exover with Flaming Scythe{Sword}
CdFS2nAXd0sword
{Shallow cut on right thigh -- 3.5 damage}

1-50
{bye bye flames!}

sword·1-50

Last Edit: Apr 12, 2019 17:21:42 GMT -5 by Arrows

Graphic by the Breathtakingly Talented Stare

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#It'sAPoundSymbol

Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 13, 2019 12:44:56 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Apr 13, 2019 12:44:56 GMT -5

The cruelty of his existence spirals desperation through the depths of my core. Frustration rattles through my bones, determination flickering the spasm. But the willpower of my wielding strive is rejected by his unexplainable resilience, though not destroyed. Perhaps his desire to live is powerful, while my dedication to revenge is unbreakable. Automatically my weapon retreats back to a position of preparation, and without a single thought my aim sparks again. Armor crumbles at the wake of my maneuvering, a flame’s kiss left in response. Guilt or question is unable to contort me as it had in the days prior; a crave to protect the ones I still have and the name of the one we lost, directing me like never before.

Another attack crumbles upon the baby from Three, once again from the blind boy who appears vowed to slaughtering this child. A foreign desire urges my lips to part for foul words to deliver as if that will actually guard Severus against such assaults. But no amount or choice of insults will destroy the enemies about. And another round of those very enemies causing destruction occurs, with further injuries growing upon Ronan as well. Comments of strive for mental damage sprinkles from these enemies too, clearly not understanding the lack of value they pertain. And to increase the confusion even further, the boy from One forgives Ronan though no apology was ever presented for cause. Least he knows how to fight, since he’s vocal warfare isn’t much on point.

It was him that stole Rora’s last breath, forever kidnapping her from our loving grip. Why did he deserve gifting forgiveness, when it was him who needed forgiving? He claims that Ronan may never understand, and I sure as hell know I don’t - and wouldn’t be surprise if no one did, if not even he truly did. And to truly prove his forgiveness, he continues his violent aggression against Ronan - along with the chick from Twelve who he seemingly just became friends with.

The boy from Nine who’ve I scarcely graced attention to before at least alternates his attacks, seemingly as blind as Ex himself. But he doesn’t target a sole individual, nor does it appear to be against a sole group, but everyone equally. It’s refreshing, especially with the sight of my boys retrieving back to the battle with force included. The blaze of fire is lost from both of their weapons, while mine roars with hunger. And with little contemplation, I spring into action along side of them - determined to keep them alive with all the might within me.

{Raven attacks Saturn ~ Flaming Hatchet (Axe)}
yb3DiTIbvbaxe
{11136 -- Deep Gash on Left Calf -- 8.0 damage
(Axe) +1 Strength}

1-50
{+4}

{Breathtaking Table done by the Beautiful Dars <3}
axe·1-50

Last Edit: Apr 14, 2019 19:43:25 GMT -5 by Cameo {RIP Charlie}

So Many Different Personalities

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 13, 2019 14:08:33 GMT -5

Quote

Post by cameron on Apr 13, 2019 14:08:33 GMT -5

Savior's bones struck the child from three, his flesh resisting impact, and Exover's teeth peeked out in bright yellowed glory. Days of half-hearted hits, of attacks that fell short and cemented his allies’ fates through his own vast inabilities, were as dead and gone as Stanley, buried in the wake of destruction and change. Buried beneath the rubble of his old, cold heart. Now sunflowers grew from his lips and the stars danced across his endless night sky, and he was new. He jerked his arm back, ripping the spikes from Severus, and he felt prepared. Ready. Ready to fight for himself, for the love of his friends who fell before him, who fell for him. To fight for Saturn and Jayne, who stood by his side then, who saw him as more than the blind boy, more than a bag of bricks to hold them back. Exover Endor was ready to fight.

“Want to get married, Ex?” Saturn called to him, voice harsh against the clamor but delicate in a way the others couldn't fathom. They seemed to take him at face value, as someone deserving of their anger, of their unjust vengeance. Someone low and unworthy. Like they were doing the world a favor in beating him up day in and day out. But Ex knew better. Maybe he only caught the career's eye because he was an easy target, and maybe he'd made it all too simple to get inside his head, inside his bed, inside his heart. But Saturn had a warmth that was unparalleled in the arena, and it was as if the others refused to see it for reasons beyond his control.

The blind boy saw him. Knew who cradled him the night before even though his ally died, too. Knew that kindness was a delicacy awarded to few and far between. Knew his fight was deeper than the bloodshed and havoc of the games. Exover knew Saturn Rhodon in a way their opponents never would, and how could they have? They decreed him dark and tainted before they met him, wrote him off as a slab of bloody meat waiting to be torn apart, and the vitriol they slung his way was proof of their misconceptions, of their misguided ways. He turned his head to the only man around. “Fuck yeah I do!”

A brief wave of sorrow splashed him in the face, the salty sting in his empty sockets a reminder that he would never step foot outside the gamemaker's prison with anyone else who'd lived it, too. If he were to win, he would be alone all over. The thing that scared him the most and isolated him in his room for so many years, that fled his flesh in grand exodus, would return.

Only if I let it. And he wouldn't let it. He couldn't. For Saturn, and for Jayne, and for Finley, and Savior, and Stanley. For Francisco. For Ronan. He would be remiss to step outside the arena and revert to the bitter, frightened boy he was before the games bred love in his blood. He would live to tell their stories. To pass on their heart. Their truth.

His truth.

“Will you come visit me in hell?” Ronan asked, and with the back of his hand Ex wiped away his tears. Beverly chattered on his helmet, voicing her reprehension, and he reached up to scratch her tiny head. He wanted to say yes. His gut response was ‘of course, we'll make it a date.’ But the boy from six wasn't his friend, despite their kiss and their appreciation for one another. Ronan wasn't happy with himself, and on that level they connected almost instantly; but their respective trajectories varied widely, and the fiery asshole that broke his nose had taken a darker route. One that filled him with malice, with disgruntled words and an air of arrogance that spread through the world on the exhale of smoke. Ex's road veered off, and he'd followed it to a place of self-acceptance, a place of love that he hadn't known before. A lush, vibrant garden, one that would rival anything Francis could ever grow, a garden built on understanding. On compassion.

He would die in that garden if the time came, but Ronan would never find him or his daffodils. His end would be different, would be terrible. That kind of end, gasping and pathetic and guilty and lonely, was reserved for people like Ronan Keeni-Einfallen, for people without remorse or forgiveness at death's door.

“No.” His smile hadn't faltered, had held through his tears and his turmoil. He wasn't the boy he arrived as. He was strong. He had the lives of three wonderful people bottled in his heart, and through them he found himself. “I won't be going there, Ronan. I'm going to thrive.”

Severus spoke again, telling him his love would bury him, and maybe it would. Maybe he would be six feet under smothered by love. But that was nothing that scared him anymore, because he knew who he was. He knew where he was going. And he knew there was nothing more powerful than exactly that. “I hope the same for,” Ex pulled back his arm and slammed it toward the kid whose words were meant to cut but only served to inspire, “YOUUUU!”

Exover attacks severus ward with flaming spiked blunt
8b07k4xOSkspiked blunt
Broken foot 6.5 + 1 strength

Fire
1-50spiked blunt·1-50

Last Edit: Apr 13, 2019 14:09:44 GMT -5 by cameron

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Bring on the Monsters [JaSaExy v Peren v Amb] Apr 13, 2019 16:17:46 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Apr 13, 2019 16:17:46 GMT -5

I’ll make sure to say hi to Damaris for you, Saturn.

He doesn’t have anything to say at the idle threat. He supposes it goes back to Ronan’s simple understanding of good and evil. Saturn had believed as much before, that people were punished for the things that they did, and that some would be rewarded. Except he knows that a man can be more than just what he’s done; whether good or bad deeds he’s still a person. Blood on his hands, he knows he’s not clean from this, and even if he doesn’t die he won’t have the chance to explain.

He couldn’t change the mind of anyone that didn’t want to listen to him, see him, or know him.

“Okay, Ronan.” He says in reply, staggering back as the blood starts to pour from his arms. He feels light headed like he had yesterday, but not so bad – at least, not until the girl from five slices into his legs. He hisses at the pain and feels a darkening in his vision. He doesn’t have much time and, he assumes that he might just end here among the remnants of where he’d almost fallen yesterday. A place that still reeked of death and now, a place to be buried.

At least he wouldn’t be far from where Damaris had fallen. He liked that, as simple as it was.

He didn’t know if there was an afterlife, but he imagined it wasn’t populated by someone that stamped them good or bad, as though they would be shuffled this way or that to live an eternity in heaven or prison. He was smart enough to know now that whatever they believed was far too simple. He preferred to believe that it was a great unknown. Maybe a bottomless void, empty and black. Or a place of redemption, understanding.

Whatever it was, he knew he couldn’t stay here.

He sees Ex struggling with the boy from three and Jayne staggering behind Ronan. The boy from Nine weaving this way or that way, in the middle of it all. He tilts back and away from the child from six and shakes his head. He wasn’t his to finish – it felt only right, too, that he’d die from Ronan’s hand, if it came to pass. Better than the girl from five he scarcely knew (as though he got to choose his death but, at the least, perhaps he’d get to choose his killer).

“When it ends, Ex,” He stammers, out, “Don’t forget there’s a lot of other folks out there for you.” Their engagement may be short, and nothing but a joke – but he liked knowing that at the edge of death he was here.

“Jayne… don’t forget to keep your eye on your elbow when you push forward… you’ll get him next time, I think.”

He looks at the boy from three and lurches forward, flaming spear at the ready. Death would come, and he’d be ready. “Sorry buddy, it’s got to be one of us, doesn’t it?”

“HHRRRMF!”

[Saturn Rhodon attacks Severus Ward with his flaming spear]