sweet; a little selfish | ams&di | day 8
Apr 21, 2019 15:36:41 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker kelsier on Apr 21, 2019 15:36:41 GMT -5
a m b r o s i a .
"i'm wasting my
young years it
doesn't matter
here."
He stays at the big top until Hisidro finally breathes his last and past that, watching, witnessing the tent burn down to the ground for the second time. His legs burn, bleeding well from a bubbling well, youth. Ambrosia's youth slips from his body like water and the way he watches things changes. With Hisidro's cannon, that was three down in one day- no, four. There'd been a resounding blast in the morning too.
Rain starts to fall and that makes two people he's killed here. Maybe Ambrosia thought that killing here would make everything seem more real but it just feels faker than in nine. Last games, the tributes had all been resuscitated and sent home. He stares at Hisidro's body and waits for the kid to rise from the dead but nothing happens. It only begins to rain.
After a while, Ambrosia stands and squats down beside Hisidro's body. His bag seems to be full of useful things, like a jar of sticky stuff and a full canteen. He opens the jar and sniffs it, recognizing it as that black goop tributes always spread on their weapons and light on fire. So he can't eat it then. His stomach rumbles in disappointment and he looks down at Hisidro's body, considering it for a longer moment than necessary.
Nah.
Ambrosia stands then and hooks his hands under the dead boy's armpits. With a soft grunt of effort, he drags the boy to the tent, now scorching the earth around it in its heat. The least he can do is make sure that the Capitol doesn't have his body. The thought that his family might want it doesn't even cross his mind, Ambrosia's been alone for so long.
He stays to watch Hisidro burn, stomach rumbling noisily at the scent of cooked flesh. Ambrosia can't help that but the idea of eating someone else has crossed his mind before. He's still strong enough to say no. Instead, he just takes out his camera and snaps a picture of the burning tent, documenting things just as Titus did.
Then, he turns and walks away, determined to leave the tent behind him after three days under its tattered gaze. The rain soaks through his shirt but the tent still burns behind him, the plume of smoke marking the location no matter how far away he walks. Then he sees the sunflowers.
Francisco.
He lays in the stems and breathes in their scent and he smells Francisco in them too. Ambrosia doesn't even know why he still thinks of him. They only fucked a couple of times and he's never been one for attachments but the guy was odd. Different. He'd spoken and poetry had fallen from his lips like little scarlet letters and Ambrosia is gruff, messy, dirty, a lost cause and nobody's first choice.
It's okay to have a crush, even on a dead boy. The dead never stay dead long for Ambrosia.
He drifts off, rain soaking his clothing, a sunflower cushioning his head. Arms wrap around his body and he sighs softly, letting his guard down, that familiar scent enveloping him. "You came back," he says and then he sleeps.
It's hours later when the blaring sound of the anthem wakes him up and he sees Ronan's face in the sky above his head. He lays in otherwise quiet darkness, shivering from the rain that's soaked him, washing away the blood and the dirt. For tonight, he doesn't look like a murderer, just a fifteen-year-old sleeping under the stars.
the axes hiss quietly with each drop of rain but their fire doesn't go out. The sound is warm, comforting, like a ring of friends around a campfire. Ambrosia pulls the picture he took with Ronan out of his pack and stares at it, at the grim face of someone who maybe could have almost been an older brother and then he puts it back and stands, wading further into the sunflower field.
The morning comes dark and slow. It's chilly still and the sun is gone. Thinking about it, Ambrosia isn't so sure that he wants to die on an overcast day. He decides to fight hard again and make it to a day with sun if he can. With every passing moment, there are more people he wants to meet on the other side piling up.
For breakfast, he pulls a sunflower from its stem and takes a bite. It's pretty tasteless but his stomach at least feels fuller than before. All he needs is a little bit of strength to go on. "Hey Francis," he says, "This is how I eat you out when you're dead, ha."
He proceeds to laugh for three minutes at his own joke.
The day continues and it isn't long until he spots a figure in the distance. he isn't surprised, with only four of them left, those in charge were probably frantically shoving them all together. Ambrosia squints, he knows that he's seen this girl before, for sure at the large fight the other day and definitely in the training center.
"Are you Diana?" he asks while rubbing tar over the edge of one of his flaming axes, "Hisidro says that I have to be nice to you."
Ambrosia has always been a shit listener.
[ams puts tar on his flaming axe using flint because hey it's on fire but not that on fire]
[ams attacks diana with flaming axe]
DPh8KLpO2gaxe
1-50
we off 2 a great start fam
accuracy
axe
[Deep Gash on Back of Head -- 9.0 damage + 1 strength]