i guess we’re partying | ezra v armadillo
Jun 27, 2020 23:09:32 GMT -5
Post by goat on Jun 27, 2020 23:09:32 GMT -5
ezra valencia
He spends the night curled against the base of the cloud spire, and when the sun begins to rise over the false horizon, he packs up his things and starts to move. The fine ground around the spire slowly turns into pockmarked earth, and Ezra looks closer to find that the caverns are stuffed with glistening jewels. The gems are embedded deep into the ground, their colors glistening in the afternoon sun, or what rays were able to break through the steadily growing clouds. He has an urge to kneel down and try to pry one out, but it seems like a futile gesture. Besides, even if he did manage to get one, what would he do with it? They have no capital inside this arena. These gemstones in the ground, the ones adorning his uniform, they could probably feed thousands of people back in the Districts, yet they were so disposable for the Capitol that they wasted them on a death trap.
There’s a whistling noise off in the distance, piercingly loud, and Ezra wonders if it’s from a fissure or a mutt. Either way, the weather isn’t too bad. He thinks that he would call it a nice day if he were back in Three. He knows exactly how he would spend it, too— a nice mug of tea, a few loaves of fresh banana bread. People are easily cured of their gloomy feelings around the weather if they’re given a warm drink and a baked good. He hates how much he misses life back home, how he yearns for what he can no longer have. It’s silly to cling onto it. He knows he isn’t going to see Three ever again, there’s no point in holding onto the hope that he will.
When he looks behind him, he can barely see the top of the spire in the distance. When he looks forward, back at the emerald field, there’s a creature in his path. He recoils, gritting his teeth, but what he sees isn’t big and vicious like the bird from yesterday— it seems a little shy, actually. The shell surrounding its spine is just as dazzling as the gemstones in the ground. He wonders if that’s a deliberate alteration, or if they’re just born dangerous. If they’re born already relegated to a life of violence and cruelty.
The thought makes him sick.
“I don’t want to kill you,” he says. “Please just go. Don’t make me do this.”
The creature doesn’t leave. Ezra takes a deep breath and swings.
[ ezra attacks the armadillo; sword ]
GW9ZUAbq3Psword
1190 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
accuracy re-roll, day 3
sword
1023 -- Stabbed in Neck -- 40 damage
There’s a whistling noise off in the distance, piercingly loud, and Ezra wonders if it’s from a fissure or a mutt. Either way, the weather isn’t too bad. He thinks that he would call it a nice day if he were back in Three. He knows exactly how he would spend it, too— a nice mug of tea, a few loaves of fresh banana bread. People are easily cured of their gloomy feelings around the weather if they’re given a warm drink and a baked good. He hates how much he misses life back home, how he yearns for what he can no longer have. It’s silly to cling onto it. He knows he isn’t going to see Three ever again, there’s no point in holding onto the hope that he will.
When he looks behind him, he can barely see the top of the spire in the distance. When he looks forward, back at the emerald field, there’s a creature in his path. He recoils, gritting his teeth, but what he sees isn’t big and vicious like the bird from yesterday— it seems a little shy, actually. The shell surrounding its spine is just as dazzling as the gemstones in the ground. He wonders if that’s a deliberate alteration, or if they’re just born dangerous. If they’re born already relegated to a life of violence and cruelty.
The thought makes him sick.
“I don’t want to kill you,” he says. “Please just go. Don’t make me do this.”
The creature doesn’t leave. Ezra takes a deep breath and swings.
[ ezra attacks the armadillo; sword ]
GW9ZUAbq3Psword
1190 -- Miss -- 0.0 damage
accuracy re-roll, day 3
sword
1023 -- Stabbed in Neck -- 40 damage
