Won't let you down when it's all ruined // [Day 3 TLC]

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d10f ekta ram // [earthling]
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cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

Won't let you down when it's all ruined // [Day 3 TLC] Nov 1, 2019 10:48:30 GMT -5

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Post by d10f ekta ram // [earthling] on Nov 1, 2019 10:48:30 GMT -5

The remnants of the Lonely Coven didn't get very far. Milo collapsed as soon as he rounded the bend in the river. He figured if he couldn't see the docks, where they'd just killed a boy, then his grieving allies couldn't see him, either. For a heart beat he felt better, prone, almost comfortable despite the frosty air.

And then the muddy bank beneath him gave way.

He hauled himself out of the water, batting away aggressive fish. He almost called for Delaney and Ridley again but couldn't quite bring himself to be so pathetic. They were probably - definitely - better off without him.

He curled up in the weeds, his heavy outfit soaked, his things scattered. He shivered.

Later, the light slanting, he heard hushed voices. A moan escaped. "I need to rest," he begged them - his allies? his enemies? And drifted again.

When he woke to twilight, he found himself sandwiched between Ridley and Delaney and considerably drier. Just that one thing lifted his spirits enough for him to sit and then scoot to the river's edge. "I might be able to hook us some dinner," he said quietly. "It's the least I can do."

[MILO attempts to catch FISH]

BoJM3sWLaI1-2

Table credit shrimp
Title lyrics credit Frank Ocean

1-2

credit hesper hart 🐺 d9f

credit [ retro gm ] angel lí ✨

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goat
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kindness, kindness prevails.

Won't let you down when it's all ruined // [Day 3 TLC] Nov 1, 2019 18:11:24 GMT -5

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Post by goat on Nov 1, 2019 18:11:24 GMT -5

Milo had taken the brunt of the fight’s damage. Delaney found him curled up on the bank of the river, cold and bloody. Ridley got to work immediately, reaching for first aid supplies, and Delaney hovered over her. She knew she should say something, but what could she say? She knew she couldn’t form any words that would magically take the pain away.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” she said, settling down next to Ridley. “But I’m not sorry about what I did. You know I had to. It’s us or them, Ridley.” She paused, thoughts of Charisma dancing in the back of her mind. “I know how it feels, though. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” she quietly echoed. She bit onto a roll of bandages and tore off a long strip. “We're all just doing what we have to do. Everyone deserves to live. Only one can.” A moment of silence passed between them, and then she opened her mouth again. “Would you have been able to kill Charisma?”

“Yes,” Delaney said, without hesitation. “At least then she would’ve been killed by somebody who loved her. Not somebody doing it out of desperation.” She paused, chewing on her words. “I guess that makes me a hypocrite.”

Ridley shrugged. “It makes you a tribute. That's all.”

Delaney snorted. “Guess so. Just what we’ve always dreamed of being, right?”

This has been her parents’ dream, not hers. She wondered why it had to be her. She wondered why it had been her name called, and not Harlow’s, or Kelly’s, or Rory’s. No, it had to be her.

Ridley avoided her gaze, her focus steady on Milo. “Right. This is the dream.” Her tone was unconvincing. “Torren wanted to be here. Said he wanted to experience life or something like that.”

“Wow. That’s…” She paused. “Kind of sad. If this is life, I don’t want to know what death is.”

“This isn't life. This is just a game.”

“Do you think we’re winning?”

“I think we're surviving. That's good enough.”

“I don’t know if it is, but—” She thought about what she was going to say, then reconsidered. “Nevermind.”

Instead of speaking anymore, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around Ridley. It made her think of back home, when she would comfort one of her brothers after a rough day of training. Even in the environment they were raised in, they found ways to be gentle, so she kept her arms around Ridley and put her head on her shoulder. We’re okay, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t, so she didn’t.

Ridley went stiff, before returning the embrace, at least somewhat. “It is. For now, it is.”

Delaney didn’t say anything else. She just let the silence pass between them.

“He needs to get warm,” she said, when she finally spoke, looking down at poor Milo. “How much do you know about hypothermia?”

Ridley smiled wryly. “More than a Le Roux should. He's in shock, too. We should give him any dry clothes we can spare and some body heat.”

“I already tore up my socks,” Delaney said. She thought for a moment, then sighed, scooting away from Ridley and closer to Milo. “I’m morally averse to touching men, just so you know, but I’ll make an exception.”

She laid down in the grass next to him and stretched her arm across him, trying to avoid any cuts and bruises. It made her mad how much she cared about her allies. They’d known each other for such a short period of time and they already felt like her siblings. Trauma worked in funny ways, she supposed.

He finally woke up when the sun was low in the sky. When he did, he moved immediately, seeming in better health, but Delaney still worried.

“I might be able to hook us some dinner,” he said. “It's the least I can do.”

“You’re doing your best,” Delaney said. “Promise. You really got the shit kicked out of you, though.”

Last Edit: Nov 1, 2019 23:19:05 GMT -5 by goat

turn soft and lovely any time you have a chance.

Stare
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and i will hold you tight / like the moon in the arms of the sky

Won't let you down when it's all ruined // [Day 3 TLC] Nov 2, 2019 0:33:29 GMT -5

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Post by Stare on Nov 2, 2019 0:33:29 GMT -5

It hurt to feel, so Ridley Le Roux decided to stop.

She allowed a certain numbness to creep in, devouring the pain and everything else that lingered in her chest. Her breathing became steady, her movements tense but unwavering. Torren would die furious at her, hating her, but she didn't care. Couldn't care, because that had been the plan all along, hadn't it? That he would die and she would leave poems?

But there was no poetry in a heart of stone.

When Milo collapsed she eyed him. He was as close to death as Torren had been. It would be a mercy, practically, to put him out of his misery. One less tribute to worry about, one less life standing between her and a crown. And if Milo died right then, with a strategically aimed blade, it would happen too fast for him to hate her, too.

Ridley sighed and dropped down next to him, yanking out the limited about of first aid supplies they had. He was trembling. She removed her cloak and draped it over him just as she had done before, embracing the fresh bite of the cold.

"I’m sorry about what happened. But I’m not sorry about what I did. You know I had to. It’s us or them, Ridley." She heard Delaney's voice like her ally was calling to her from an enormous distance. "I know how it feels, though. Obviously."

"Obviously," Ridley echoed quietly, coldly, ripped off a length of bandages with her teeth. "We're all just doing what we have to do. Everyone deserves to live. Only one can." And that was the sum of it, wasn't it? That was what all tributes eventually came to conclude? So why the hell did it feel like such an incredible lie? Ridley glanced back at her ally, feeling simultaneously empty and reckless. "Would you have been able to kill Charisma?"

"Yes." Delaney didn't miss a beat. "At least then she would’ve been killed by somebody who loved her. Not somebody doing it out of desperation. I guess that makes me a hypocrite."

Ridley shrugged. "It makes you a tribute. That's all."

Delaney snorted. "Guess so. Just what we’ve always dreamed of being, right?"

What was she supposed to say to that? Ridley turned her focus back on Milo, avoiding Delaney's gaze. A Le Roux was supposed to agree. A true Career was supposed to mean it. But she could feel the cracks in her armor and began to wonder if she could realistically begin to waver in her act, to reveal hints of what lay beneath all her pretending. A lifetime of training reigned her back. Truth in her world was something unforgivable. "Right. This is the dream."

She wasn't sure what prompted her to continue. Something about dreams. "Torren wanted to be here. Said he wanted to experience life or something like that." If Ridley closed her eyes she could almost feel the ghost of his hands leading her through the dance. But with the memory's peace came pain, so she shut it down.

"Wow. That’s... Kind of sad. If this is life, I don’t want to know what death is."

"This isn't life." Ridley shook her head. "This is a game."

"Do you think we’re winning?"

She glanced at Milo's pale face, still contorted in pain. "I think we're surviving. That's good enough."

"I don’t know if it is, but— Nevermind."

Ridley was so surprised when she felt Delaney's arms around her that she stiffened, half expecting a knife to be driven into her back after all their talk of killing the people they loved. After a moment, though, she awkwardly tried to return the gesture. She hadn't been shown that level of affection and comfort since Pax had died, and it felt strange to be accepting it from a girl who would certainly be trying to murder her soon. She accepted it, nonetheless. "It is. For now, it is."

Eventually their attention was drawn back to Milo.

"He needs to get warm. How much do you know about hypothermia?"

Ridley smiled wryly, remembering nights without heat huddling under rags and towels to try and keep warm. "More than a Le Roux should. He's in shock, too. We should give him any dry clothes we can spare and some body heat."

"I already tore up my socks," Delaney said, then sighed. "I’m morally averse to touching men, just so you know, but I’ll make an exception."

Ridley cautiously mimicked her movements, lying on Milo's other side and wrapping her arm over her torso to pull herself closer. Seeing him so close was comforting in a way that felt dangerous, so she tried to ignore it, instead closing her eyes and waiting for him to wake up again.

When he finally did, lifting himself up and moving away to try and catch some food, Ridley felt his absence acutely.

"You really got the shit kicked out of you, though."

"Glad you're not dead," Ridley added, and said nothing more. She was worried about what would happen if she did.

Because the truth was that even under the numbness, she cared about Milo and Delaney, in the same way that she had cared about Torren.

She didn't want to know how it would end.

table credit goes to the fabulous shrimp!