return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four

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gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕
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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 5, 2020 18:28:50 GMT -5

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Post by gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ on Jul 5, 2020 18:28:50 GMT -5

Finally.

After what felt like a week's worth of darkness she finally came to. Lysander woke, expecting to see the harsh rays of the sun, but was welcomed by the gentle glow of the moon. It still burned her eyes, but not nearly as bad as the morning sun would. She grunted and sat up as slowly as she could. Her body screamed in protest, covered in scrapes in bruises from yesterday's fall, but she forced her muscles to allow her to sit upright. She began stretching her legs, when she noticed a pair of eyes staring back at her. Her heart skipped a beat, but found it's rhythm again once she realized it was only Cyro.

"Nice to see you back in the world of the living."

"Ugh my head is killing me. At least there's only one of you this time."

She took the palms of her hands and pressed them against her eyes, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Nothing happened, so instead she fumbled blindly for her bag and canteen. Cyro's chuckled echoed through the emptiness of the night as she took a quick sip of the water and splashed the remainder on her face, clearing most of the blood on her skin from yesterday.

"I think Panem could only handle one of me anyways."

For the first time since she's been stuck in this death trap, for the first time in over a year, she laughed. But it was abruptly cut short as she ran her fingers across the scrapes on her palms, the gash in her side. It stopped when reality hit.

"So we're actually still alive, right?"

"Mostly? We're still breathing."

"But for how much longer?"

At The Reaping she was fearless, she was prepared to die, but now when faced with the prospect of death she shuddered in its presence. A few days ago, she was prepared to join her sister, to finally be at peace, but now a part of her tells Lys that her sister would want her to keep on living. She shuddered and wrapped her arms tight around herself.

"I'm so...tir..."

And in an instant she fell back asleep. Darkness took over once more, she slept soundly until the sun signified the start of a new day. Her body was cooperating, for the most part and there was only one of each of her allies which was a good sign. She tossed her bag over her shoulder and looked at the rest of this group.

"I know where we're going, follow me."

There were only brief moments of hysteria, most of which she could talk herself out of. A flying shoe here, a giant dragon there. Reality and nightmares had a pretty clear line today. She wasn't sure if she should be excited or terrified.

"We're her...oh."

The red water came up to her ankles, threatening to spill into her shoes. She was still too terrified to hover, scared that if she left the ground she would not be able to return again. It seemed that the sea had covered the arena, making it impossible to travel anywhere without getting soaked. Worse than that they seemed to have ended up in the wrong area again.

“How? How the fuck have we gotten lost two days in a row? How’d we miss the giant ass mountain?”

Meredith's voice rang loudly and with a note of anger. Her finger found it's way into Lysander's back and she grumbled in annoyance.

"I swear the mountain was right in front of me, but now that I think about it I do remember seeing two." She shrugged. "I told you guys yesterday I wanted to go to the beach. Let's at least relax while we're here." As she spoke four figures appeared from the other side, weapons clearly in their hands and faces that did not scream 'let's be friends'.

"Or not."

As the grew closer they looked familiar. She recognized them from the Bloodbath, but most of their names evaded her. There was the girl from One, the career boy from Four, Zenia, the one who should be dead, and the other boy who was named after a star. Not much from the Bloodbath stuck in her mind, the alcohol flowed too strong, but she remembered the searing pain as her arm hung limply at her side, the bone threatening to burst through. Her eyes filled with rage and she turned to Arabella.

"Which one broke my arm?"

Her head nodded in the direction of Star Boy.

"That was the boy who broke it."

She gripped her weapon tightly, her knuckles turning white.

"That was my favorite arm, you bitch."

And she lunged.

Finally her world was making sense.

Finally she maybe wanted to live.

( lysander attacks pisces ; star geode )
1TSAveMImqspiked blunt
( miss - 0.0 )

accuracy ;

spiked blunt
( broken right femur - 7.5 )

spiked blunt·spiked blunt

Last Edit: Jul 5, 2020 18:31:04 GMT -5 by gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕

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cass
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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 5, 2020 18:39:35 GMT -5

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Post by cass on Jul 5, 2020 18:39:35 GMT -5

There was a lot on her mind, after seeing Will she had left with his agreement to kill her if they ran into each other again. She wondered how long that would be, or if in the end, it would be Will. A girl could hope that maybe fate would play a helping hand and she would get this one little gift. By the time the sun rose the dark circles under her eyes were nothing short of impressive, lethargy weighed down her limbs as she slowly packed everything into her backpack. As they slowly formed their line and started walking, the sound of water reached her ears, until suddenly the patter of feet on dirt was suddenly the splash of water.

Meredith’s eyes widened and she stared at the blood-red liquid that was suddenly stretching all around her. Only a few inches deep, but as she turned her gaze it continued expanding until suddenly it was everywhere before her. She reached a hand down, touching the liquid, before bringing it up to her lips. It didn’t smell like blood and she was sure it wouldn’t taste like it, she wasn’t dumb enough to try drinking it.

Wiping her finger on her blood and dirt-stained clothes she looked up and suddenly she had no idea where she was. Turning, she noticed the cloud spire to her left, the direction they had been heading in, right? It was a giant ass mountain, it was impossible to miss and yet…

“How? How the fuck have we gotten lost two days in a row?” Meredith glared at the cloud covered mountain that was too far off in the distance. It glared back at her, teasing her, the world was calling her a fool. Scowling she turned poked Lysander on the back, “how’d we miss the giant ass mountain?” She knew she hadn’t been paying attention and all honesty she felt her own guilt spread as she looked into Lysander’s red eyes.

Why had they put the hallucinating girl at the front again? That was a terrible idea. Between Arabella and Lysander they had gone to two entirely different places, led in circles. Meredith was too tired to think straight. Another snarky comment jumped to her mind, but she dropped it, letting her hand fall to the knives at her waist as she played with the handle of one of them. It was pointless. She had to let this one go, it was more than tiredness, she was emotionally exhausted and it was threatening to break her. She sighed, running her free hand through her hair.

Part of her was tempted to fall into Lysander’s world, she knew that two or three days awake and she’d find herself hallucinating like Lysander was. Killian’s sleep deprivation lessons had taught her that one, another part of herself she had no business understanding. Maybe she’d conjure up an image of her mother so large that it’d make her problems disappear. Meredith kicked at the water, mumbling to herself, before the splash of other feet had her gaze snapping upwards, hand tugging a knife free.

Shit. She cursed, four figures greeting them. Meredith took a step back, stomach tightening. She didn’t want this, not again. They’d just finished fighting Will, Terra, JJ, and Helle yesterday. She’d just watched Helle die yesterday, she’d had her skin sliced open. She’d told Will she wanted him to kill her, she’d yelled at Bella. Not now, please, Ripred, not now. She needed a moment or two, it was too much.

“Please no,” she whispered, but as the figures came into view she found the tightness in her shoulders easing. The familiar faces had her hoping that perhaps they could get past this one without fighting. As the grew closer, Meredith found herself waving at Dom, moments later she turned to Pisces giving him a tired smile before nodding at Jade. The career girl was a skilled fighter and Meredith and Jade had spent a lot of time in the training center commenting on each other's ability.

Last was Zenia, and Meredith found herself frowning. She was sure she had seen the district three female get surrounded and cut down in the bloodbath. She was sure she’d heard the cannon firing as they’d run from the bloodbath.

“Zenia,” Meredith began, gaze narrowing with uncertainty as she noticed the different clothes she wore, “what happened? I thought…” you were dead. The next words hung themselves in the air, too unsure of herself to even say them out loud.

Before anyone has a chance to respond Lysander lunges forwards, blunt swinging in the air. Meredith watched her go, for a moment stuck in place before she reacts, lunging forwards to grab at Lysander with a yell. But, she’s too slow, her weapon striking at Pisces.

“I’m sorry,” the words a whisper from her lips. She couldn’t let them hurt Lysander.

[ mer attacks jade -- throwing knife #1 ]
kDcsdCdnuYthrowing knife
[ Deep Gash on Stomach -- 9.0 damage, +1 Target practice, +1 rivalry ]

throwing knife

Last Edit: Jul 5, 2020 18:42:00 GMT -5 by cass

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 5, 2020 20:27:06 GMT -5

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Post by pup on Jul 5, 2020 20:27:06 GMT -5

My commentary meets deaf ears. Or at least ears that try their best to ignore me. Jade refuses to acknowledge me, and Pisces and Dom are in their own stupors. What could have happened in the day I was dead that rattled their minds further from sanity.

As the sky turns crimson, the only solace their silence brings is the knowledge that I'm not alone in my insanity.

Staring into the night and the few stars that shine dimly behind the cloudy sky remind me of my newest purpose. I was given a second chance to make everything, right. For my escape from the world that I had known before. I ran here from my parents, but soon I'll finally leave every hell behind.

Victors are untouchable.

Nothing will be able to hurt me soon enough.

Then, just like last night, my brain begins to combat itself.

The tiredness clouding my brain tries to lull me to sleep, half of my brain pulling me into the inky depths of unconsciousness. But every time that happens, the images imprinted on my brain of the tributes standing over my dying corpse flash in quick glimpses in my mind. Every time my eyes close, I awake in a sweat, the memory of being pulled into an inky darkness too similar to that of sleep sending bursts of adrenaline through my veins.

And when I'm finally able to combat the ghost of feeling so utterly and completely useless as I lay on the ground, dying, I ricochet painfully into my restless sleep.

Flames lick at my feet

A snake coils around my chest, constricting me, laughing in the voice of my father

I feel the bones in my fingers b r e a k i n g one by one

The deer with his face on it appears before me

His laugh grows louder and louder

The four shadowy figures loom above me

I awaken.

If the gamemakers really wanted to give me some white clothes they should have given me some deodorant too. Some big oversights on their part.

Everyone is awake, and like last night, nearly silent. What should I expect. They've seen a ghost.

But it doesn't matter. They've shown that I can't trust them in the slightest. They'll be gone soon enough, and I'll make sure their souls don't weigh on my conscious.

Pulling my crown made from the viper out of my bag and placing it on my head, I stare at my posse. Sixteen eyes stare back at me, as usual. "You're the closest thing I've got to friends out here," I mutter beneath my breath to the eight snakes.

With my crown, I'll lead them. Snakes are cunning creatures. They can tell when they're following a survivor. I'll stave my path through whatever it takes. This second path that I was set on after Helle's curse, it certainly will not be my downfall. As I was resurrected, my new life began.

Louder, to my allies rather than to my snake gang, I say, "We should probably get moving, find somewhere where I can get some water too."

Remembering from when I climbed to the top of the mausoleum once I escaped the dimension Helle sent me to with her witchcraft, I tried to orient my thoughts. Pointing my finger in the direction of the graveyard, I remember where this was from my vantage point and move my finger towards where I thought I saw the waves off in the distance.

"I think there's some water that way."

And I begin to walk, not watching to see if they follow me. Pisces face tells me he's all but one joke away from trying to snap my neck, so I don't bother risking it.

Then as the red water begins to come into view, a lot sooner than I expected, I hear their voices.

If only they had died before now. It would have made life so much easier.

Arabella, Meredith, Cyro. I don't know the girl with them, but I know the others. I know that I can't trust them, that they want to stay alive as much as I want to be alive.

Cyro, despite him breaking my leg, preventing my escape, he has a son.

And without Mer, I probably wouldn't still be alive. Her crazed dancing beneath the dim light of the training center at night had kept me going, reminded me that someone thought life was still worthwhile.

I-

I can't do this.

I feel the gears in my brain that've been grinding their way towards my future creaking to a halt. I had forgotten about what I would do if I needed to kill them.

I've been given a second life, a second chance. My deal with the devil, my life for theirs. But I can't be the one to take a father away from his son, or to rip Meredith or Arabella from the world.

"Zenia," Meredith voice calls my gaze to her, my eyes wide from fear that I can't do what I need to do. "What happened? I thought..." her voice is stolen to silence by surprise.

Then before I could break the silence hanging in the air between us, the other girl speaks to Pisces, and strikes, breaking whatever form of plaintive peace we could have had between us.

No. I can't let her kill Pisces. I can't bring my knife against Meredith, Arabella, or Cyro, but I know I can bring it's bright gleam down against this girl. Repositioning my crown, my eyes shift between Meredith and Arabella, the two girls who had showed any form of kindness to me.

"I'm sorry too." I say quietly to Meredith, "The witch tried to banish me to hell, but I fought her magic and now I'm back. This is my second chance, and I can't waste it."

Before I turn to the girl who had struck Pisces, and I swipe at her, my knife swinging down in a bright arc.

[attacks lysander with glowing twisted knife]
TdfmdqHmu0knife
[STABBED IN STOMACH, +9.5 dmg]

knife

Last Edit: Jul 5, 2020 20:27:42 GMT -5 by pup

^Made by the amazing Onyx^

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 6, 2020 0:05:59 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Jul 6, 2020 0:05:59 GMT -5

Night comes with the sound of an anthem; mixing with colors in the sky until Emmett Le Roux stares down at him. One of the tributes to carry a big legacy behind him, part of Cyro feels for the Le Rouxes now as he stares into the dead eyes of a boy gone too soon. The first face to appear in the sky, dead kids glittering in the last light of the stars. Kestrel Volant is next, pretty and looking down at him as if she were dancing to the tune of her own beat. Two down, but his heart feels heavy remembering Hellemine had died the other day, but as soon as anthem came, it went.

Silence of the blackening night filling the area as he breaths for a moment. The questioning thoughts of if she were still alive or not filling his mind. Cyro Krane had seen Hellemine die in front of him, but yet there's no face in the sky. Eleven had been cursed for a long time, but he prayed this one wouldn't come back to bite Arabella in the backside. Fingers running through his hair as he flips through the pages of the sketchbook, noticing the way Xander's artwork seems to calm him down. Less blood pooling from his wounds after closing them up, but his body hurt from the sheer pain. Night moves on slow and long as he stares up at the stars, not feeling tired from the day's events.

Will's words echoing along his skin keeping him up with a heavy heart and questioning thoughts.

Arabella's awake still when he finally checks on his allies, stuck in their own thoughts. Calmly, he approaches with a no tension in his shoulders and exhaustion in his veins, words leaving his lips with a question. "Arabella? Are you alright?" Glossy eyes from tears spent crying as he stares for a moment. His own heart breaking from the sight of Arabella hurting. Fingers staying put by his side where he's comfortably watching her process the words he had spoken.

"I’m fine, you shouldn't worry about me, you have enough to worry about." A sleeve wiping away tension as she sits up with him. Her hands rubbing at her red eyes, silence sticking between them as he feels his heart ache for her. Cyro had been through a lot already, but it didn't mean he could let someone like Arabella go through the pain alone. Panem needed more people like her. "I- I thought you had died today... when- when that knife struck your chest... I thought that it had killed you..." Her eyes reach his own as he can feel the sting of the wound from his chest, burning like a white flame to remind him of almost dying. Will's hurt eyes filling his mind. The words of a kid who lost his father to the games. Something that could happen to Xander, if he doesn't become better.

"It scared me. It scared me so much to think that you had died. To think that I would be out here without you. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, that in the end only one person makes it home... but not many people in my life have shown me the kinship that you have... and losing that-"

Only one of them would make it home. The truth of the matter being that only one of the four of them could survive this place and live on. If they made it that far, one of them could survive this and he wasn't about to throw away his chance at making it home to Xander. Family. Arabella felt like the four of them were family and he couldn't blame her. All three of them were growing on him, despite the knowledge of the hunger games before him. The rules of the game they must play. Death to twenty three others, while one stands over their bodies; a survivor and haunted forever.

"-losing that scares me so much."

Her voice breaks and his heart follows. Staring for a moment, he runs a hand through his hair, driving away the nerves and stress of the day and what's been on his mind for days now. Friendship was hard and having people who he was starting to care for was becoming difficult. Sooner or later, one of them was going to die and he'd have to learn to fight without them. A heavy breath as he stares up at Arabella, eyes focused onto her.

"I-I understand that. It's hard when we're all becoming something like friends or family, fighting together and surviving together makes us grow together." A weak chuckle comes from his lips as he continues. "It's gonna take more than some punk kid putting a knife to my chest to kill me... I'm gonna fight hard and the only way you'll know I'm really dead is when I can't talk anymore."

A heavy breath fills him as he smiles to Arabella, arms coming forward in a soft hug to let himself not harm himself in the process. Wounds stinging just as much as his heart did. "I'm here. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere. I-It scares me too y'know." The brief hug is let go as he watches her carefully, his own hands now in his lap, fidgeting together like he would when anxiously waiting his next job in the orchards. "I'm scared to lose any of you... You all made me feel less alone when I was really alone back in Eleven..."

Back in Eleven, it was just Xander and him against the world. No family to watch them. No friends to give him a relief from the stress of being a single father. No one even knew he existed except for the small nods from Vasco Izar in passing or the disgusted glances of his mother. Some days, he felt so invisible that they would just be left behind with nothing but pain. Xander hadn't made any friends yet and Cyro went to work and came home to raise his son. There was only Xander and him; alone in a home they couldn't afford, running out of time. Silence falling from his lips again as he stares down at his hands, thumb rubbing against his palm trying to forget the exhaustion of being alone. A smile peels forward as he can recall how much he really appreciates his allies friendships right now.

"I’m glad- glad that I meet you." The smile from before makes him warm, happy that Arabella Shirley considered him like family. "I'm glad I meet you too." His own smile growing.

It was scary how quickly he's become attached to his district partner. Almost as if he were destined to meet her. A chill runs down his spine as the silence fills between them once more. Her lips tremble with the words, the sob echoes along his skin with a fear he didn't realize he had. "I killed someone today," She's quiet and he can feel his own breath against the air. Eyes stuck on her remembering the way Amira's death had affected him for years. The way his father had been avoxed by his own statement. Death was hard; the whole process could take years to move past. "Murdered someone. Mer told me I just need to get over it, move on for the sake of everyone.." Her eyes fall to the ground as he feels his heart ache for her.

"-but I don’t know how too. I want to, but- but I can’t stop seeing it. Hearing it- the cries of her allies..." Her eyes reach him and he can remember Will's voice. JJ's voice. Terra's voice. Will was the most haunting, but he can remember the way the knife struck true and killed Hellemine. The way Will blamed Cyro for the pain he's been through and how Cyro would forever be the worst person in the whole arena to him. "How do I pick myself up and move on so quickly?" The words process through him, echoing along his skin like the harsh truths he faced as a young kid. Death was hard. Pain was hard. Processing them was harder than anything else. He's seen death before, spoken to death like a close friend and begged for Amira to come back in the middle of the night. Watching her for a moment, he can see the pain there. The brokenness of Arabella Shirley that the Games was putting her through.

"It's okay to mourn. It's okay to not be ready to move on." Will Johnwayne's pain flashes before him. The hurt in his voice. The pain behind his eyes. A punk from Two who's suffered enough pain from people. "I think the only one who can pick yourself up is you. Moving on is hard. I-I would know..." Eyes glancing off in the distance as if Amira were there watching. His memory of his father's screams of hatred hurled towards him. The fear in speaking up, but finding the strength to finally take his own life into his hands. Grief is difficult, it bottles itself up in the confines of the heart and breaks hearts easily after it overflows the system. Moving on wasn't as simple as forcing yourself to do it, but finding the acceptance in what happened. The way to move on is to find peace with what's happened and that was easier said than done. "I still think of Amira every day... I still think of my father... He's an avox now. I-I got him avoxed..." Thumb rubbing his palm raw as he continues to stare in the distance.

His father deserved it.

Doesn't mean it hurt any less than it did.

"You just have to believe you did the right thing for your own self and the people you care about. You killed someone to save me." Eyes glancing back to Arabella because he's truly thankful for her. She saved his life. She saved him from Will's vengeance against his own dead father. "You saved me and I'm so grateful for that." Reaching up slowly, he brushes his hand gently in her hair, pushing a strand that had fallen forward in the process of her feeling the grief underneath her strength. The smile pulls on his lips as pride fills him. Cyro Krane was proud of Arabella for doing what she felt was right in her heart. Proud that he had someone who believed in the good of the world think he was worth enough to save from death. "It's okay to not be ready to move on, but there's gonna be more deaths. I-It's going to be rough." The truth slips out. The harsh truth of the games upon his lips. Eyes glancing back to the sky as he tries to remember the constellations he's seen before with Amira.

"You're strong. You'll survive through it. That's what I believe"

Her words feel genuine when they fall from her lips in the moonlight. "I’m sorry that he did such horrible things to you and your Amira... I’m sorry that you had to go through something like that." Cyro's been through a lot of pain, but it doesn't make Arabella's any less. Then she says the words that makes him feel proud of himself for a moment. "You're strong too," She moves to clean up her face, removing the pieces of her vulnerability. The tears wiped away with her sleeves as she looks softer than before. "I think you’ve seen enough tears from me to last you a lifetime," A small laugh falls from her lips and he feels exhausted, emotionally and physically. "How's your neck? Let me apply some ointment I got from-" The name not falling from her lips. "found at the fight today."

Silently, he rolls his eyes at the comment. His neck looked worse than it actually felt. "My neck will be fine.." Leaning back onto his back, staring up at the stars, his words get quieter and more heavier with exhaustion. "Sometimes I don’t feel strong... people keep telling me I made a mistake coming here and throwing away my life for Xander." A heavy sigh leaves his throat as he closes his eyes. "It’s hard to explain the situation and no one really cares what I have to say... everyone has their own ideas behind my reasoning for volunteering." Moving his arms up and behind his head, he keeps his eyes closed. "t’s hard to be strong when everyone wants you to fail." Eyes closed, a deep breath as the fire in his stomach burns hot still. The fight for himself and against the imperfect system stuck in his mind.

"But I guess that’s what makes me strong, huh?"

The exhaustion hits him hard, the tiredness in his body lingering heavier than before. Fingers run through his locks for a moment, the feeling reminding him of a comforting moment in the early stages of Amira and him. It's a soft murmur that he catches from Arabella. "Get some sleep," Fingers softly easing the tension in his body from the fight and the worries in his skin. The sound of humming leaving Arabella's lips and the comfort begins to wash through him. His mind growing blank and memories of Amira soothing him after days with his father's hatred for him. For a second, he forgets where he is, mind going blank as dreams of his Amira coming forth.

That night, he dreams of Amira, pieces of his own life flashing before him.

It's the best rest he's had in years.

Cyro wakes up feeling well rested as the moon fills his vision. Eyes glancing around until he stops and watches his allies for a moment slumbering. Arabella looking less tortured by her actions, but he sits up, staring for a moment until Lysander's own eyes reach him. It's quiet for a moment before he smiles, letting the teasing words leave his lips.

"Nice to see you back in the world of the living."

Lysander is quick to respond as he glances around for a second, until he can hear her voice. "Ugh my head is killing me. At least there's only one of you this time." The chuckle that leaves his throat is heavy, but exhaustion still rings through his skin. Two Cyros would have made his life easier, but right now, there was only one of him and there would only be one of him, despite what the gamemakers wanted them to believe about the ghosts in the distance.

"I think Panem could only handle one of me anyways."

Her laugh rings out, a surprising sound to hear from Lysander Mae. Her fingers trace the scrapes on her hands and the cut along her side before she looks up at him speaking. His eyes following the cut as he almost dares to speak, but he doesn't. He stares a little longer letting the words ring against his ears.

"So we're actually still alive, right?"

"Mostly? We're still breathing."

"But for how much longer?"

The words shake him to his core for a moment as he remembers how he almost died to Will Johnwayne. Aches along his body from the wounds of a boy who was hurting from his father's decisions. They weren't the same, but Cyro had done the same to Xander. If only he could reassure Xander, but there wasn't enough time anymore to make sure Xander would understand. All he could do was hope that if he's to die in this hellish place that Katelyn Persimmon would tell his story.

"I'm so...tir..."

Lysander falls back asleep before he can ask her anything else. Question upon his lips, but left alone in the darkness as he stares along the horizon watching the sun try to drift up, but it never comes. Instead his eyes close and the area goes dark, the memories of Will and Xander mixing together into a nightmare.

One of the worst nightmares he's ever had.

The sun comes up with a bright shine, knowing the nightmare away. Bright lights hitting his face as he pulls his pack over his shoulder, holding his sword steady in his hands. The others get up as he silently thinks about what could happen this next day. Fingers tightening around his sword as Lysander is the one to speak up first.

"I know where we're going, follow me."

Following after her was chaotic, but he didn't speak up. She seemed to have some idea of where she was going, until it was no longer where they were trying to go. A laugh falls from his lips as she speaks only to stop herself. It's not one of pity, but he's genuinely finding it funny that they ended up on a beach of red blood from what he can tell.

"We're her...oh."

The red blood slides over his boots, like a pool of blood to remind them of all the tributes who have bleed to death all these years. Izar, Miristioma, Rhodes, and all of the other Elevens were apart of this ocean of red. Silently, he stares out into the deep red remembering the days of watching Salome Izar in an outfit so red. Jacob Fel firing lasers at Kassandra Nerys. Tamron Rhodes getting so far, but not quite making it thanks to Shelby Leviane, the deadliest of victors. It's a reminder to them all of the blood that's been shed and how much more the capitol wanted them to shed.

"How? How the fuck have we gotten lost two days in a row? How’d we miss the giant ass mountain?"

The laugh falls from his lips.

"I swear the mountain was right in front of me, but now that I think about it I do remember seeing two."

Lysander shrugs as if this was really where she wanted to end up.

"I told you guys yesterday I wanted to go to the beach. Let's at least relax while we're here."

He didn't blame her for wanting to go to a beach. None of them have ever seen the ocean, especially not from their districts. It's haunting the way the red blood pools at their ankles, his own eyes reaching out to the horizon as footsteps reach them. Eyes glance up to see four others standing with them. Fingers tightening around his sword as he watches for a second. Lysander questioning which one had broken her arm. The faces are memories of those who had attacked him in bloodbath. Jade and Zenia had struck him. They had wanted his son to become an orphan. They wanted Cyro Krane to die.

Lysander is the first to strike with the sound of a crack as a bone breaks in the horizon. Water along his ankles as he takes a deep breath waiting for a moment, until he hears Meredith speak. "Zenia," He follows her eyes to notice the clothes were different, no longer black like their own, but white. White like the angels his Amira believed in. For a second, he almost wants to ask if she's really there or not, but he doesn't. He listens with a careful ear and calm eyes. "what happened? I thought…"

It's quiet for a moment, until Meredith speaks a sorry to the air.

Red comes from Jade's stomach, mixing with the water below them as he holds his breath for a moment.

"I'm sorry too." Zenia's words fall into the air, hanging by a thread. It's quiet, but he can barely make it out. Zenia looks haunting to him, but he doesn't dare speak as he waits for his chance. "The witch tried to banish me to hell, but I fought her magic and now I'm back. This is my second chance, and I can't waste it." Hell. A place Amira believed in, but he doesn't dare say anything. Magic and witch. His mind follows along as he can remember Hellemine dying by Arabella's knife. Zenia strikes, but Lysander's snake moves; scaring the crap out of him for a moment. A chill running through his fingers gripping his sword as he speaks to Zenia.

"The witch is dead. At least, we think she is."

A deep breath as he raises his sword.

"We killed her yesterday."

Eyes glancing from Jade to Zenia as a heavy breath falls from his lips, it was now or never. Cyro Krane needed to be strong. Eleven was cursed by everyone to be the worst. The odds were never in their favor, but he promised to break that. He promised to fight against what everyone wanted him to do. The whole arena wanted him to fail, but he wouldn't. Not now and not ever. Xander needed him.

Eleven needed him.

"I'm not sorry. You tried to kill me at the start, One."

Teeth grinding together as he swings with his heart.

"I won't let Xander watch me die here."

Fingertips tightening around his sword, white knuckles mixing with the silver as he breaths.

"My angel is watching."

(Cyro Krane attacks Jade Morin with Falcata [Sword])
4CLVf6zVAYsword
(Miss)

Accuracy

sword
(Deep Gash on Stomach 9.0 +1 Blades)

sword·sword

Last Edit: Jul 6, 2020 0:07:19 GMT -5 by Tom

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 6, 2020 0:30:22 GMT -5

Quote

Post by k!ah on Jul 6, 2020 0:30:22 GMT -5

She was exhausted. Her eyes burned, her stomach aching- from hunger or distraught she could not quite tell. Her head felt like it was about to split in two, the pain causing her lips to part in exertion as she tried to fight off the next wave. She had begged for sleep to take her, to drag her away from the memories of the day, to throw her into darkness so that she no longer had to think, had to remember the blood that now coated her hands.

Sighing she tossed and turned, trying to find any sort of relief. But when it was evident that she wouldn't she tugged her coat tighter around her body, her eyes examining the sky above her. She found herself wandering if the stars were real, or if they were nothing more than a mirage that the Gamemakers had created. Her thoughts travelled to Helle of Seven, wandering if she was staring down at her from above, her lips curled back in revulsion, cursing her name as she shot harsh and hateful words in her direction. She found herself wandering what Ellen and Matthew might be thinking. Had they watched her today? Had they witnessed the crime that she had committed? Were they glad that she might not come home, that they might not have to face her and the monster that she had become?

A pained sound escaped her lips, once again her eyes wet with tears. What if they were repulsed by her? what if their love for her had been shattered, the pieces blown away in the wind, never to be found again-

"Arabella?" The sound of her name as her eyes scanning the horizon. Cyro approaches, his eyes alight with concern as he takes a seat next to her. "Are you alright?" At first she wants to crumble, to tell him that no she was not okay, that she was hurting, losing a grip of who she was... That she was lost and she didn't know how to find her way back, the darkness surrounding her, refusing to to let in any light. But when she looks at him she can tell that he too was dancing of the edge, his toes flirting on the ledge of a breakdown.

So instead she forces herself into a sitting position, smiling at her district partner, “I’m fine, you shouldn't worry about me." Quickly she runs the sleeve of her shirt under he nose, her hands rubbing her glassy eyes, "you have enough to worry about.” For a moment they sit in comfortable silence, her eyes traveling out into the field of glowing rocks. Somewhere in the distance was the alliance that they thought today, the boy from two who had almost taken Cyro's life. “I- I thought you had died today... when- when that knife struck your chest... I thought that it had killed you...” a small form tugs at her eyebrows as she turns her gaze to meet Cyro's, “it scared me." And it frightened her how much it had scared, She shouldn't feel this way, she knew that she shouldn't. But when she had seen that knife bury itself in his chest her heart had skipped a beat, her mouth had gone as dry as a desert of a summers day... And she had been so scared that he had been taken away from her, certified that she had lost her last piece of home.

"It scared me so much to think that you had died. To think that I would be out here without you... I know I shouldn’t feel this way, that in the end only one person makes it home... but not many people in my life have shown me the kinship that you have... and losing that-“ her voice breaks, her surging emotions making it challenging for her to confess the feelings that threatened to drown her, “losing that scares me so much.” Arabella had never had a friend before, not one like Cyro, and she wanted to cherish it, to hold onto it for as long as she could, until fate forced her to let go.

"I-I understand that. It's hard when we're all becoming something like friends or family, fighting together and surviving together makes us grow together. It's gonna take more than some punk kid putting a knife to my chest to kill me... I'm gonna fight hard and the only way you'll know i'm really dead is when I can't talk anymore." Taking a deep breath he smiles at her, wrapping an arm around her in a gentle hug. "I'm here. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere." She leans into him, the warm of his body scaring away some of the vile thoughts that had haunted her through the night.

Pulling away he tell her that he fears losing any of us too, that we have made him feel less alone. Words that she could relate to, most of her life she had felt so alone, expect for her own thoughts, her own characters to keep her company... But being around Cyro, Meredith and Lysander she didn't feel so alone, she felt like that small hole in her heart was slowly being filled and it was a dangerous feeling to have when in the Arena, a feeling that might break her in the days to come. “I’m glad- glad that I meet you.”

"I'm glad I meet you too."

Silent for a moment the image of Helles body crashing to the ground flashes before her eyes once again, this time she doesn’t hold back the sob that causes her lips to tremble. “I killed someone today,” her voice is quiet, and she is not sure what she expected him to say, what she wanted him to say. After Mer’s out burst earlier she didn't know how anyone would react. “Murdered someone. Mer told me I just need to get over it, move on for the sake of everyone...” she looks to the ground, “but I don’t know how too. I want to, but- but I can’t stop seeing it. Hearing it- the cries of her allies...” she turns pleading eyes to her district partner, “how do I pick myself up and move on so quickly?”

She hoped that he had the answer, because she had no idea how.

"It's okay to mourn. It's okay to not be ready to move on. I think the only one who can pick yourself up is you. Moving on is hard. I-I would know..." He glances away from her, his hands nervously ruining around one another. "I still think of Amira every day... I still think of my father... He's an avox now. I-I got him avoxed..." Arabella wanted to take his hand, to comfort him, but she doesn't. she stays quiet as his eyes once again find her own, "You just have to believe you did the right thing for your own self and the people you care about. You killed someone to save me." Save him, she had, but at what cost to herself? As soon as the thought appears she banishes it, trying to convince herself that it was worth it, that his life was worth the pain, the torment. "You saved me and i'm so grateful for that." Tears once again begin to fill her eyes, blurring her vision as he gentle brushes her hair from her eyes, his mouth pulled back into a smile, one that looked so familiar to the one that Ellen might wear when she was proud of something she had done.

A tear rolls down her cheek and she returns the smile, knowing that even though it might destroy anther piece of who she was, she'd do it again. Save him, even if it meant taking a life. "It's okay to not be ready to move on, but there's gonna be more deaths. I-It's going to be rough. You're strong. You'll survive through it. That's what I believe." His words plant a seed of hope in her heart, similar to the way Katelyn's letter had reminded her that only she could pick herself up. No one was going to help her with that, but she was strong. She grew up in a place where she had no choice but to come strong.

“Your strong too,” she says, as she examines her district partner. He looked exhausted, his body battered and bruised, but she was certain that is was a reflection of his mentality too. She knew that he was grasping at straws, trying to hold himself together, so in an attempt to lighten the mood she gives him a small smile, “I think you’ve seen enough tears from me to last you a lifetime,” she chuckles as her eyes land on the roughly sewn gash on his neck, “ hows your neck? Let me apply some ointment I got from-“ she can’t say the name, can’t bring herself too- “found at the fight today.” But he brushes off her concern, leaning back with his hands tucked behind his head. His eyes drift shut, “sometimes I don’t feel strong... people keep telling me I made a mistake coming here and throwing away my life for Xander.... It’s hard to explain the situation and no one really cares what I have to say... everyone has their own ideas behind my reasoning for volunteering.”

Arabella had to admit that she, too, at first had struggled to understand why he had done what he did... But she was slowly coming to terms with it, and she could tell that there was no one else in this world that Cyro loved more than his son, so she had decided to trust him, trust that he truly believe he was making the right decision. “It’s hard to be strong when everyone wants you to fail. "But I guess that’s what makes me strong, huh?”

Glancing back down at him she realised just how tired he looked. Shifting her position she moved so that she was sitting near his head, her fingers gentle brushing through the mattered locks of his hair. "Get some sleep," she murmurs, her fingers moving at a soothing pace, the way Ellen used too when Arabella was new to their lives. She remembers the way she used to hum a soothing tune, letting it wash over her skin like a warm blanket, making her feel safe. Quietly she tried to replicate it, humming to the tune of a lullaby. She stayed this way, her fingers gently guiding over the crown of his head, and for the first time that night she didn't find herself thinking about Helle, her mind dancing in the memories of home, of her family.

__________________________________________________

She wakes to a downpour of rain, her clothes soaked through. Huffing they take off as a group, planning to head to the large mountain that dances above the clouds. Lysander is in the lead, looking worse for wear, but slightly better than the day before. Trudging through the down pour Bella is quiet, her head down as they hike through the miserable weather.

“How? How the fuck have we gotten lost two days in a row?”

Looking around she notices that her feet have connected with sand, waves of blood crash into the shore to her right.

“how’d we miss the giant ass mountain?” Mer rounds on Lysander, poking the blonde girl in the shoulder. Bella turns away from them, her eyes scanning the area around them. Thats when she see's movement as a group of four approaches them. Instantly Arabella recognises two of them- Jade Morin approaches. Arabella tenses, her fingers instantly reaching for her throwing knifes. They feel cold in her fingers, like they had been dipped in ice. she forces herself to ignore it, as she moves to stand next to her allies.

But something was wrong about the group one of them- Zenia- was dressed in pure white. Arabella frowns, she had been so sure that she had seen her fall by the hand of the girl she had slain yesterday. Something close to discomfort causes her skin to crawl, could this be linked to the lack of faces displayed in the night sky? before her eyes return to the girl who so easily manages to weave her way under her skin.

"Jade. How is my heartless warrior from district One?" She croons as she moves to stand beside Lysander. The girls eyes meet Arabella's rage simmering like the embers of a raging fire, "Which one broke my arm?" Arabella swallows, as she turns to nod her head towards Pisces. "That was the boy who broke it." And before she can do anything else Lysander lunges, a snarl on her lips as she swings her club into the boys leg.

There is a sickening crunch, one that reminded her of the moment Cyro's leg had been crushed and her mouth goes dry. Not even a moment later Meredith strikes, an apology on her lips as her knife buries itself into the flesh of jades stomach. A sound escapes Bella's lips, but before she can turn to face Jade, Zenia lashes out, her weaned aimed straight at Lysander. "Lys! Move-" her cry is cut off as the small snake around the girls neck jumps to life, putting itself between Arabella's ally and the blade-

"The witch is dead. At least, we think she is.

We killed her yesterday."

Arabella freezes temporarily, the image of Helle's body crashing to the ground- no, no get a grip, push it to the side, now wasn't the time. Right now she had to focus.

Taking a deep breath she pulls one of her knives free, her pained eyes turning to the boy Lys had attacked. The words I'm sorry dance on her lips, but they never fall, not even when she sends the knife sailing through the air, praying that she would not have to watch her friends die.

[Arabella attacks Pisces: throwing knife]
GVSZNklqAnthrowing knife
[ Deep Gash on Thigh -- 8.0 damage +1 target practice]

throwing knife

Last Edit: Jul 6, 2020 1:48:00 GMT -5 by k!ah

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 6, 2020 12:12:56 GMT -5

Quote

Post by fireflyz on Jul 6, 2020 12:12:56 GMT -5

The clouds had darkened as daylight began to fade, but they remained parted just wide enough to allow the red sunset to seep through. Dominic was still floating through a haze, but as night fell, survival mode kicked in once more and he pulled himself off the ground with urgency. Was everyone patched up? Were there any more silhouettes floating on the horizon? Maybe they should put the fire out. It's too open out here.

As he snuffed out the fire, a flash at the corner of his eye made him tense up, only to look up and see that it was Zenia. In the light, the once stark white robes seemed to be bathed in blood. She came back from hell. The realization made Dominic's stomach twist. How could he be so inconsiderate? The deepest wound was not the one that blossomed on the outside of her clothes but rather the fact that she had died - lived? - alone, and even though he lamented leaving her at the mausoleum and swore he'd do better if he had the chance, here was his chance.

Zenia, I-

He looked away and floated back into his haze.

Dominic pulled his cloak tighter around him as a cool breeze started up, no doubt related to the heavy clouds that were congealing overhead. The air nearly smelled like District Four, and it only made him curl further into himself. He shouldn't have been so shaken by a mask. He'd watched the girl from Nine die. He'd watched his best friend die even before either of them had reached their first reaping. He had already walked in here with scars of his own - nothing close to a veteran but not green, either - and yet as his fingers traced the familiar keloid on his neck, he fought off thoughts of his own family.

He rest his cheek against the grass, eyes finding his one source of comfort. "Pisces?"

The boy made an affirmative noise, and he continued. "Do you remember what I told you on the roof? About my father?"

"I remember."

It hadn't been much - it had merely been Dominic rambling about how his father expected so much of him, and how he didn't know if he could live up to the fantasy, and how he loved him too much to disappoint him. Yet, aside from the fear that tugged at his heart, there was something else gnawing at him that he couldn't quite identify.

"We never had a contentious relationship," he said, sitting up. "We always got along. Sometimes we'd do things together." He shuffled his feet, fabric rustling around him.

"But it was like there was a wall between us. It was like he was always seeing me without actually seeing me," Dominic mused, tipping his chin up to the sky. He felt a prick of water on his forehead, and he wiped it away. "I never saw him, either."

He'd always envisioned that one day he'd be able to describe his father beyond being the person that raised him, but it seemed that the longer they knew each other, the less they truly did. It was a thousand times easier to articulate his feelings towards Pisces, someone he had only met three weeks ago, than it was to begin to define someone he had known his entire life.

"When that deer showed up with the mask on, it was like something in me snapped." Dominic dragged his hands down his face, the image replaying in his mind. "I have never said a single bad thing to or about him, and then I looked him in the eyes and I killed him."

"I'm so sorry," Pisces said, and for some reason Dominic felt like he didn't deserve to hear it. "I- I attacked the one with the face of my mother and was afraid of how she'd feel about me doing that, but I had to tell myself that she'd want me to fight to come home, even if it meant that my target had her face."

He went to laugh, but it came out as a sad puff of air. "You're right. I just feel... ashamed, I guess."

He adjusted himself so he could stretch his injured leg, and the crinkle that sounded from his hip made him pause. He had heard it as he went throughout the arena, but he figured it was nothing. Now, as his fingers dipped into his pocket and found the smooth, dry feel of paper, he knew it was not nothing.

Dominic slowly pulled the envelope from his pocket, flipping it over in his hands. There was no handwriting on the front, but rather his name and district had been stamped on the front. It was likely to be from his father, and he let out a shaky sigh at the prospect of reading Jonathan's words after everything that had happened that day. He cast a nervous glance at Pisces before opening his backpack and pulling out his knife. Slicing open the side of the envelope, he pulled out the creased tan paper and unfolded it.

"Dear Dominic," he read softly. "I know the name you'll find... will not be the one you were expecting."

He furrowed his eyebrows with confusion. His eyes danced over the words two times, three times. It was not his father, it was - no. It couldn't have been. But it was.

Dominic had expected that hearing from his mother would bring him joy, not like the sadness and longing he felt after their brief encounters in the town square. But reading her words merely twisted a knife in his gut, and he felt the urge to restart the fire just so he could destroy it. Now he had three people to please back home, and one of them hadn't even bothered to visit.

"I want to meet the man that you have grown into."

A fat water droplet splashed against the page, and he wasn't sure if he was crying or it was raining or both. He crumpled the paper in his trembling hands, stuffing it into his backpack and pulling the zipper. He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead against them, allowing the sobs to rack his body, if only for a moment.

After some time, the anthem began to blare, and Dominic looked up just in time to see Kestrel Volant's face vanish from the sky. He looked over at Pisces, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I'm fine," he rasped. "Talk to me."

"I think there's some water that way."

The feeling of choking had jolted Dominic awake that morning, only to find that he was face down in a layer of blood red water. It didn't take long for him to resolve to float above the ground for the rest of the day, hovering along behind his allies as they moved to their next location. Once he caught sight of the waves, it was clear that Zenia had found the source of the spill, and he wondered what the Gamemakers had done to make it so red.

"That's good," he said, although he wasn't sure the girl had heard him.

As they made their way onto the beach, he heard voices floating over the sand. His eyes found Meredith, who greeted him with a wave that he returned in earnest. He didn't know the others that well, but they seemed friendly enough.

Well, at least until the blonde girl crushed Pisces' leg for breaking her arm.

It wasn't long after that weapons started to fly, and one of the boys reopened the wound on Jade's stomach, saying that his angel was watching.

"You don't think most of us have someone watching at home?" Dominic asked, readying his mace. "I don't want anyone to watch me die, either."

[dominic attacks cyro with geode morning star (spiked blunt)]
JcloT5AJcsspiked blunt
14078 - deep gash on right forearm - 8 damage + 1 strength

table by puppy

spiked blunt

Last Edit: Jul 6, 2020 12:13:46 GMT -5 by fireflyz

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 6, 2020 15:06:34 GMT -5

Quote

Post by kap on Jul 6, 2020 15:06:34 GMT -5

Zenia's words are ignored by me the rest of the night. I have no desire to speak to her, and Jade is starting to drive me a little crazy, too. That's why I spent most of the night just focusing on Dominic and myself. He told me how he was feeling, and I used every fiber of my being to listen to him- to show him that I care. Dom told me about how he felt when it came to killing that deer mutt yesterday, and I understood. It was really rough for him. It was rough for me, too, fighting the deer that had the face of my mother.

That didn't matter to me anymore, though. My feelings didn't matter: Dominic's did. His feelings were the only ones I cared about right now. Dom got real emotional after reading the letter that he opened up. It reminded me of how I felt reading the letter from my mother. I wanted to cry, too, like Dom did just now, but I had to hold it back. I didn't want to let those tear drops fall. Right when I was about to ask him if he was okay, he responded.

"I'm fine," he told me. "Talk to me."

I nodded. I needed something positive to talk about with him. I took a moment to think before delving into a childhood story about one of my siblings and myself. I remember the good times when we'd all just play together without a worry in the world. Those are the memories I shared with Dominic. I needed to tell him about the good times.

When the anthem played that night, I felt panic surge through my body. Kestrel's face had shown, albeit a day later than it should have. I already felt guilty about killing her. I remember hearing her cannon when she fell. I remember the intense feeling that I was some sort of villain when it happened. Except, the night she died, her face didn't show in the sky.

Instead, it showed the next night. What was going on? I was starting to wonder if the Capitol truly was messing with our heads using the anthem, or if it was something else entirely. Kestrel was dead, I knew that. Her face was in the sky now, whereas Zenia's never showed in the sky. Zenia wasn't dead, which is why we don't see her face up there. Perhaps dead tributes' faces are just showing a day late to throw us off. I didn't let myself dwell on the thought for too long.

It wasn't what was important right now.

I didn't sleep that night. When the sun rose, I was sitting up, looking out at our surroundings. The arena was quite unfairly beautiful for being a place where we were meant to all murder one another. I saw Zenia speaking to her snake crown early in the morning. When we were all awake, she spoke to us instead.

"We should probably get moving, find somewhere where I can get some water too." She said this before telling us that she thought she knew where we could get some water. She starts walking before waiting for any of us to respond, so I follow. Just because I was annoyed with Zenia last night doesn't mean I wanted to be separated from her again. She was still a friend to me, even if we weren't all on the best terms right now.

Water comes into view, and I see that Zenia was right. Making our way onto the beach turned out not to be the wisest decision, however.

When we arrive on the beach, other tributes are in view. At first, in seeing Meredith, I have a small feeling of hope that this will be a peaceful encounter. She had even smiled at me. Surely, that had to mean that she wasn't going to hurt us, right?

Wrong.

The girl whose arm I'd broken in the bloodbath hadn't forgotten me, or, at least, if she had, one of her allies reminded her of who I was. Her words hissed at me.

"That was my favorite arm, you bitch."

Then her weapon cracked into my right leg.

"Fuck!" I exclaim. "That was my favorite leg!"

I believe that I hear a whisper of an apology from Meredith before she strikes Jade, but I can't be sure. All I know for sure is that my leg hurts like hell, and Jade just had her stomach cut open. Zenia says a sort of apology in response to Meredith before cutting into the girl who'd struck me. Was Zenia actually defending me when I had ignored her for the majority of the night?

The only boy in their alliance is the next to speak up.

"The witch is dead. At least, we think she is," he says, referring to Helle. He raises his weapon. "We killed her yesterday."

"I suppose I don't need to punch her in the throat now, then, eh?" I say with a strained laugh through my pain.

Then the boy speaks to Jade, and his words are far from apologetic.

"I'm not sorry. You tried to kill me at the start, One," He tells her. "I won't let Xander watch me die here."

That reminded me that this was the boy with a kid back home. He had to be, right? That's who Xander was?

"My angel is watching." The boy's words continue before he attacks Jade, ripping into her stomach like Meredith had.

Dominic counters with his own words.

"You don't think most of us have someone watching at home?" Dominic asked. He had his weapon ready. "I don't want anyone to watch me die, either."

Then, there's another taunt, this one coming from the last member of their alliance and directed toward Jade. I ignore their words now. I have to. I have to fight, and I can't let them get into my head.

A thrown knife cuts into my thigh. I grit my teeth.

Dominic strikes the boy from the other alliance and I ready my own weapon.

"I- I have to do this," I tell myself aloud.

table by puppy

[Pisces attacks Lysander with Geode Morning Star (Spiked Blunt)]
rjilTRcE6Bspiked blunt
[14015 -- BLOCK -- 0.0 damage]

accuracy

spiked blunt
[14024 -- BROKEN LEFT FEMUR -- 7.5 damage]

spiked blunt·spiked blunt

Last Edit: Jul 6, 2020 15:08:09 GMT -5 by kap

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 7, 2020 1:18:24 GMT -5

Quote

Post by D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine on Jul 7, 2020 1:18:24 GMT -5

It was harder to sleep that night. Whenever she was sure Zenia wasn't looking in her direction, Jade would observe her carefully. It wasn't comfortable being so close to what she was sure was a mutt sent to kill her alliance. Maybe that was the Quell Twist: all tributes killed would be made into mutts in order to trick the living tributes. Her eyes found the mutt's snake friends and eyed them warily, finding this to be more proof. It was fitting that other mutts would be attracted to another mutt, wasn't it? Jade would have to sleep with one eye open, or risk the mutt killing her in her sleep.

The anthem began, startling her from her own thoughts. She snuggled the dragon plushie closer and looked up at the sky, not sure if there would be any new additions this night. The last two nights had held nothing in the sky, despite cannon shots and she doubted tonight would be any different. Apparently, she was wrong. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw the image of her District Partner in the sky, and she let out a small gasp and sat up in surprise. A Career. She didn't know him well, but he came from a rich family with influence since Ridley had won, and her family had invited them over for family dinners on occasion.

None of that was important, however. No, what was important was that he was a Career. Like Jade, he'd been trained to kill others. She had seen him, and his score was high enough to let her know he had been skilled. Perhaps, even more so than she was, since it was higher. Her knuckles turned white as she held the dragon close to her with all her might. This wasn't supposed to happen. She had felt that both him and Terra would be threats for sure. Including Jade, the three had scored the highest of all tributes. The only one she was uncertain of was Meredith, who she knew was more skilled than the one she had earned. She was the wild card, and one Jade didn't want to fight. She respected the other Career.

Jade forced her eyes closed, and took a few breaths. Maybe it was a good thing: she wouldn't need to face her district partner and kill him. That was taboo, and something she wouldn't have liked to do. She laid back down and pressed the dragon plushie against her chest. For the moment, her thoughts of the Zenia Mutt were focused elsewhere, and she was able to fall asleep.

--------------------------------------------

Jade wakes with a start. Her forehead coated in a sheen of sweat, her palms wet and her heart raced against her chest. A nightmare. Just moments ago in her dream Zenia the Mutt had been leaning over her, snakes watching in the background, as she held a dagger over her. Jade glanced around, but found Zenia wasn't there at all. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, and wished there were more water, but she couldn't worry about that right now. Instead, she stood up and gathered her supplies, making sure everything was secured in her satchel.

When she got up to stretch, she was reminded of her fight with the mutts the other day. She let out a small gasp of pain, and winced. Her back was still in the process of healing, and hurt. She glanced up at the sky, half hoping some sponsor would take pity on her and have some pain pills. There was none, of course, so she merely shook her head. She'd dealt with pain before. Scars, bruises, broken bones were all part of the deal when training for the Hunger Games. Still, she'd never been stabbed in the back before right after a sword left a huge gash. That was something else all together. An unpleasant reminder that things were here to kill her, not just train her.

Her eyes found the Zenia Mutt, who was busy talking to her little mutt companions. Jade was sure they were planning how to kill their alliance off one by one. She glared at the Mutts, and stomped off. There was little she could do about the Zenia Mutt when the rest of her alliance believed the silly tale the Mutt had weaved. All she could was be on guard against her, and protect her living alliance members at all costs. She felt guilt that she couldn't save Zenia back then. She felt even guiltier when she realized what the Capitol had done to her. To be made into a Mutt, not even able to escape this place in death...that was something twisted. There was nothing she could do to help the dead, however, so she could only focus on her living alliance and keep them safe until they would need to go their own ways.

----------------------------------------------

The arena had a bad sense of humor. In the distance, she could make out the forms of another alliance and she grimaced. It would have been nice to have a day to heal, but this was the Hunger Games and she supposed the Game Makers weren't feeling particularly happy with the low death count. She hugged the dragon plushie close to her chest with one hand, while grabbing the sword with the other. Fine, they would need to fight again today. And she'd have to make sure her alliance made it out alive. Even the Mutt, because that was her problem.

Jade's eyes widened when she realized she knew two of their alliance, and she felt her heart race against her chest. She wanted to turn back and leave - maybe they could make it out without a fight. She didn't want to attack Meredith, nor did she want to attack Arabella. Her eyes sought out the annoying fairy tale girl, and rolled her eyes despite herself. She was annoying, rude, and irritating, and she envied her. Envied the girl that despite lacking parents looked so happy, so cheerful, so...everything Jade would never be. It was obvious she had experienced something Jade never would.

Meredith's question got her attention, and her focus left the other girl. "She's a mutt, obviously," Jade said, glancing once at Zenia, then back at Meredith. Hopefully the other girl would understand and knock some sense into her own alliance. The faster they all realized Zenia was a Mutt, the better it was for all of them.

Then Lysander attacked, and it was back to chaos. Suddenly, Meredith attacked her, one of her dagger leaving a huge bloody spot on her stomach. She felt something escape her lips, a scream. Did it belong to her? She dropped the dragon plushie as her hands sought out the open wound, pressing against it instinctively. She couldn't allow herself to bleed out, now could she. She sucked in a breath, and growled. Today was obviously not going to be her day.

Cyro's words surprised her, and she managed to turn towards him, a grunt escaping her lips as she did so. Tried to kill him? Since when? He spoke again, and then attacked, his sword leaving another bloody gash on her stomach. She fumbled for her sword with bloody, wet hands. She couldn't worry about all the blood. Not yet. Not when she was fighting for her life. She was annoyed, felt attacked for no particular reason, and the boy acted like he was the only important person in the world because he left behind a son.

"If you...didn't want...him...to see you die, then maybe...you shouldn't...have volunteered," She ground out, glaring at him. Her vision was beginning to blur, but she had to focus. Had to protect her alliance.

Arabella's words were next, sending her into a frenzy. She glanced at the other girl, but knew she couldn't waste too much time on her. Not when Cyro was busying trying to murder her. "Not so great...since you all...decided to attack," she said through gritted teeth, before swinging her sword at the boy who attacked them.

(Attacks Cyro with Sword)
fd7xGzNwOtsword
(1127 -- Block -- 0.0 damage)

(Accuracy)

sword
(1044 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage)

Table made by Puppy!

sword·sword

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2020 1:37:04 GMT -5 by D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 7, 2020 11:43:39 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ on Jul 7, 2020 11:43:39 GMT -5

He was useless.

Not once in her life had her father been of any help, or even a father for that matter. Even though she was the oldest, he looked down upon her. She was never the proper heir to the business, and she didn't comply to his demands. Lysander was useless to him, a waste of space, and he made sure she knew it. He never acted like a father, and after his careless attitude towards Hazel's death she decided to make it official, even calling him by his first name instead. Not once in her life had he been any use, not once had he done anything beneficial.

Except now.

The snake that had found her yesterday that she had so accurately names after her father uncoiled itself from her neck and slithered in the way of the resurrected girl's blade and saved her from what would have been a nasty hit. He hissed in contempt at the girl from Three and then slithered off in the sound.

"Uh, I never thought I'd say this but thanks Hyram."

She had heard Meredith's yell as she lunged towards star boy, but she was too late as the loud crunch drowned out her pleas. His leg was clearly broken and a smirk played on Lysander's lips.

An arm for a leg.

"Fuck! That was my favorite leg!"

"Well, now we're even."

It doesn't take the boy long before his blunt comes swinging at her instead, but after days of withdrawal her senses are finally coming back to her. Her own weapon rises, knocking his own out of the way. She smiles, but she revels just a second too long in her victory because in the blink of an eye his weapon came crashing down on her leg. A sickening crack resounded, and she knew it was broken. Her jaw clenched and the air hissed between her teeth as she inhaled sharply. The pain radiated throughout her whole leg in a matter of seconds. There was no alcohol to slow the burn today. It was white hot, as if it were on fire. She was thankful the hallucination had subdued, because if they hadn't she would have been convinced she was ignited.

"Karma's never really been my friend."

Without moving she lifted her weapon and swung.

Maybe she could be useful too.

( lysander attacks pisces ; star geode )
l2eThQIANxspiked blunt
( dg on cheek - 8.5 )

spiked blunt

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2020 11:45:46 GMT -5 by gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 7, 2020 18:11:20 GMT -5

Quote

Post by cass on Jul 7, 2020 18:11:20 GMT -5

The witch?

Dead?

Meredith looked at Zenia, gaze flicking to Cyro’s as he answered her. What? Helle was a witch? Meredith’s face screwed up in confusion as she grabbed another two knives from her belt. Was this how other districts thought of people? As witches and wizards? When the reality was that Helle had been a normal person and Zenia was a normal person, there was an obvious explanation beneath all of this. Meredith just needed two minutes to think it through and it’d all make sense.

Zenia was right about it being a second chance, but the reality was probably something more along the lines of what the Gamermakers had done during the 80th games. She pushed the swirling thoughts aside, it wasn’t the focus of the moment. Getting out of this fight alive was. Cyro’s blade cut painfully into the exact spot Meredith’s knife had gone and she couldn’t help but wince as she questioned what kind of internal damage they had created.

That looked incredibly painful, and Jade looked like she was in agony. She screamed, dropping her plushie into the water so that her hands could hold against the steady flow of blood that fell from her abdomen. As it dripped, it mingled with the water, no noticeable difference between the two liquids.

One of her allies had managed to break Lysander’s leg and the crunch was as familiar as when she had heard Cyro’s break a few days ago. They retaliated by hitting Pisces and Meredith watched as deep gash and smack landed on him. She wanted to throw up. Bloodied, slashed flesh was nothing like a broken nose or a bleeding mutt. Her world had revolved around blood and guts and dying, for someone her age she had witnessed more children die right in front of her then she thought would ever be possible. She had sewn up Finn’s lacerated hand, pulled Cyro’s nose back into place.

A peek of intestines as she watched Jade somehow manage to grip her sword, smearing blood up and down the hilt as she swung it at Cyro.

It was too much.

Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

This wasn’t right, Meredith’s hand tightened around the knife. A shaky breath later and she was swallowing down whatever bile had greeted her throat. Jade deserved better than a career vomiting in the water in front of her. Jade was an incredible fighter.

“You’re so strong, Jade,” Meredith croaked, gaze flickering to the small gash she had even Cyro. Even after she had been torn apart she had still managed to hit him. She’d have done well in the Strauss household, maybe in that house, she’d have been the one to kill Meredith. If the hints of the answer floating in the back of her mind were correct, that maybe Jade would still kill her. Just hopefully not today.

[ mer attacks jade -- throwing knife #2 ]
s4RQpaaH0Gthrowing knife
[ yeet ]

[ accuracy reroll ]
throwing knife
[ yeet #2 ]

throwing knife·throwing knife

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2020 18:12:32 GMT -5 by cass

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 7, 2020 18:50:05 GMT -5

Quote

Post by pup on Jul 7, 2020 18:50:05 GMT -5

My attack that would have struck the girl in the stomach met with a creature instead. I had thought that I was the queen of snakes, my crown proving my worth, but this creature had defied me.

And it got it's punishment from it's queen.

I got a second chance. My subjects won't.

The snake drops, turning into a plushie, similar to the creatures my allies had. That must have been why Dom had been so fixated on his fish when I found them yesterday. Those deer must've done what I did to my rebellious subject.

Hopefully the eight pairs of eyes following my every move, my snakes, my loyal subjects, know more than ever that they shouldn't cross me. Neither should these tributes. Not everyone gets a second chance at life.

"The witch is dead. At least, we think she is. We killed her yesterday."

My head twirls around to the father. My eyes narrowing at him. I want to live. I want to find my way out of here, but I can't do it. Despite how terrible my parents were to me, I can't wish an orphanage onto a kid. And with each word the boy says, it's like he twists a knife further into my soul.

"Shame, I wanted to kill her myself." I say, my voice cold, a tone that I had never adopted before. It was new, refreshing. With each word I spoke, I could feel myself leaving my past life behind. My knife glowing in my hand, stuffing covering it, mixed with the dried blood from the deer bearing my father's face, I know what I need to do.

"Burn the witch and all that." I continue, gripping my knife harder as my teeth clench together. Hopefully she won't rise again like me. They probably just left her body, but from all the stories I had heard, the only way to properly dispose of a witch is to do some magic yourself and turn their body into ash.

Helle was dead. That was a good thing, right? Her offering of dessert that one time wasn't signifying a friend, she was simply an enemy who opened my eyes to this world.

Meredith misses her attacks on Jade, but the other girl continues her relentless attack on Pisces.

Despite my newfound resolve to survive, I can't kill Cyro or Meredith or Arabella, not yet at least. But I do know that I can kill this girl.

"Karma's never really been my friend." She says, and I step back towards her, trying to make sure that I can get close enough to hit her.

The memory of Helle's face rests in my mind, how I refused to hit her when it came down to it. When everyone was fleeing, I could have shot her with my crossbow. I could've just ended it then, but instead as I turned to flee, I gave her a chance to kill me instead with her witchcraft.

That's just how Karma works for us. Do a good thing, get killed.

"Yeah, get in line," I say to her, my words breaking my way through my clenched teeth. I might not have been able to kill Helle. Pisces and Dom might stop me from striking down Jade. But I refuse to be powerless again, I refuse to turn my back and murdered. Second chances. "Karma isn't anyone's friend in hell."

[attacks lysander with glowing twisted knife]
I_eyHZVdjxknife
[DEEP GASH ON LEFT BICEP, +8.0 dmg]

[/quote]

knife

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2020 18:51:34 GMT -5 by pup

^Made by the amazing Onyx^

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 7, 2020 19:19:15 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Tom on Jul 7, 2020 19:19:15 GMT -5

"Shame, I wanted to kill her myself."

The words ring against his ears like an echo of Will Johnwayne wanting to kill him. Vengeance doesn't work for anyone. Cyro Krane knew that well. His father's missing tongue accounting for the vengeance he took. A deep breath as crimson echoes from his sword, cutting into the other career's stomach, where Meredith had ripped into her before. Red like the fire in his stomach, swirling with that anger of almost dying the day before. The witch was dead and he would still be cursed. There was no different in who killed who, Cyro Krane would still be cursed.

"Burn the witch and all that."

The words hit the air, just as the District Four male, Dominic had struck him, metal clicking against the vambrace, harsh and red with crimson. Words hanging in the air, just like his own memories of knowing there's people waiting for the others too. Not all of them were like Cyro Krane, but every single tribute had someone rooting for them, whether they knew it or not. It's a gasp of a pained breath that makes him move away from the geode that glitters like the one in his pack.

"You don't think most of us have someone watching at home?" The question was there. "I don't want anyone to watch me die, either." Dominic looked about the same age he had been when Amira told him he was going to be a father. Too young to realize that the world wasn't a cruel place. Too young to understand what it was like to be a father and be on his own with another life to take care of in his grasp. Xander was both a blessing and a burden, but Cyro loved him so much. He loved his angel so much that he would do whatever it takes to make it home. Words hang heavy off his tongue as he holds up his sword.

"I think the people watching you are different than the person watching me." A frown pulls on his lips as he turns to the side watching both Jade and Dominic who were now closer than before. "None of us want to die, but some of us have more to lose than others." Fingertips tightening around the hilt of his sword as he pushes himself to the side feeling a cut blossom on his thigh with words following along with it. Jade from District One glaring at him as if he were some monster. Kranes weren't like the Izars had been. He was no monster, but others would see him as that.

"If you...didn't want...him...to see you die, then maybe...you shouldn't...have volunteered,"

Cyro Krane has heard it all before. People telling him not to volunteer or how he should have just stayed home and taken care of Xander. He would have if there had been any chance, any possibility that he could have lived a happy life without ever doing this, but Cyro Krane hadn't the skills or the luck to be able to do that. If he didn't volunteer, they would have died on the streets together in pain from his own failure. It's heavy when he holds the sword forward once more, watching as Lysander cuts deeply into Pisces. A heavy breath on his lips as he pushes forward knowing Meredith was trying to have his back.

Meredith Strauss was meant to be a career, but she misses once more just like she had with the mutts. Teasing words almost come out, but he's too focused on Jade's words, Jade's glare, and Jade's sword. Cyro Krane didn't want to die here. He didn't want to let Xander watch him die here amongst the red blood ocean where the collective tributes reside mixing blood with more blood. It's eerie and also beautiful in a sense, but he's got no time to sit and ponder by the water.

"There's some things worse than death."

The words slip past his lips as he thinks of how he didn't want Xander to suffer from a failure of a father. He didn't want to let down his angel ever. He didn't want to become like his father who left purple marks along his skin and told him to do better and show respect to the person who allowed him to live. It's the fire in his stomach that makes him push forward, but it's the little laugh of Xander in his ear from a memory that makes him swing. They weren't going to end up on the streets. Cyro wasn't going to let himself die, especially not without a fight. Xander wouldn't watch him die.

There were things worse than death.

Except, Cyro Krane would rather suffer through those again and again over leaving Xander behind.

Xander was his world.

So, he swings with Xander in his heart.

Crimson waters and silver blades;
he wanted to spill the ocean red once more.

(Cyro Krane attacks Jade Morin with Falcata [Sword])
P4tieKHfGQsword
(block 0)

sword

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2020 19:19:51 GMT -5 by Tom

Made by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 8, 2020 0:19:43 GMT -5

Quote

Post by k!ah on Jul 8, 2020 0:19:43 GMT -5

The knife slices into the boys flesh and she fights the urge to look away, forcing herself to watch as blood begins to drop to the blood waters that swirls angrily around our feet. The drops of blood symbolising another piece of Arabella Shirley, the kindred spirit from district Eleven, drifting away forever lost within the murky waters of the arena.

She's a mutt, obviously.

The words cut through her hazed thoughts and Arabella's eyes dart to Jade. A mutt? She thinks, her face twisting into one of disbelief. The girl couldn't be serious- could she? Jade Morin the girl career from district One could not possible be so daft.

"A mutt?" the words of disbelief slip past her lips as she turns her full focus onto her. "A mutt! You've got to be kidding me," she growls as she prowls closer to the girl, forgetting about Pisces for a moment. Jade looked like crap, her hand clasping her stomach coated in a layer of crimson liquid. Her blood. Arabella tried not to gag at the sight. "Jade Morin thinks that this girl- who is obviously human, like the rest of us, is a mutt? She says that she died, and that she was resurrected. And sure that seems totally whack. But we've seen it before- that last quarter quell! But- but your telling me- all of us- that you think she is a mutt?" She is so close to the girl now, just a foot between them, her fingers clutching her knives tightly. Maybe she could do it, maybe she could attack her, end it here and now. The girl looked like she was in agony, she would be doing her a favour.

But as she stares daggers at the girl, the girl who so easily managed to slid under her skin and infuriate her, she could not do it. She could not bring herself to slice her blade against her skin. Jade might have called her weak for it. If the rolls were reversed Arabella was sure that she would have struck, her would have knocked her to the earth and buried her blade into her heart. After all she was an obstacle that stood on her way.

"And if she is a mutt, Jade Morin, why is she still alive? Why is she fighting for you?" Arabella questions, the rain pounding down around her. "I remember the warrior of District One to be a girl who would do anything to make it home. To survive. So why do you allow a threat to sleep beside you?" She wanted to grab the girl by the shoulders, to shake some sense into her, because Arabella could not see how Zenia could be a mutt. She hadn't seen her face the the sky... Just last night she had seen two-

But she hadn't seen Helle's either.

Was Helle in the same boat as Zenia? Had she to been resurrected? Maybe the thought should have relieved some of the pressure around her heart, maybe it should have eased her conscience. But it didn't. She still felt like her skin was too tight, like it didn't belong to her no longer. Because in the end Arabella had killed the girl- resurrection or not... Arabella had thrown the knife, the knife that had Helle's name written on it and sent her to an early grave. There was no sugar coating it, it was the harsh reality. She had died. Arabella was still a killer.

"Get your head out of the clouds, Jade." She growls, her words laced with ice, running out of patience. "You told me back in the Capitol that I was nothing but a silly child with my head stuck in the clouds. Well," she looks her up and down, "looks like you've taken over that role." She steps away a few steps, retracing to be back beside Lysander. "It's not a good look on you." Neither was dying, she added to herself, glancing away.

Once again the air is filled with the sickening crunch of bones breaking and Arabella whirls around the boy from Four pulling his weapon away from Lysander's leg. "Lys," damnit, had she not been so preoccupied on Jade she might have seen the boy move, she might have been able to block the attack. Lysander's face blossoms with red hot agony for a moment before she gathers herself shining her club once again at the boy from Nine.

Arabella eyes dart to the boy once again, preparing herself to attack. Licking her lips she pulls free another knife. But she hesitates as her eyes study him. He is unsteady, his body battered and bruised from the torment of the last couple days. Be the lion. Be the lion. Be the lion. Closing her eyes, she draws courage from the words scribbled by Katelyn Persimmon. Blood, sweat and tears. That was the only way she was going to survive.

So once more she flings the knife in his direction, her eyes flying open.

Blood.

Sweat.

Tears.

The price to pay for survival.

[Arabella attacks Pisces: throwing knife]
gMgY4_0qpmthrowing knife
[ probs a miss]

accuracy day 4

throwing knife
[ LMAO MISS ]

throwing knife·throwing knife

Last Edit: Jul 8, 2020 0:21:45 GMT -5 by k!ah

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 8, 2020 12:55:21 GMT -5

Quote

Post by fireflyz on Jul 8, 2020 12:55:21 GMT -5

Every waking second in this arena had come with a new revelation. Some of them filled him to the brim with a rage that he had never felt before, and some made him want to hide away for all eternity.

In other cases, they were fucking stupid.

"Jade," Dominic said. "You can't be serious. What mutt would see us fighting those deer yesterday and not jump in on the fun?"

It simply wasn't plausible. Something had happened to Zenia - he knew that - but if she were a Capitol creation and not borne of the same Panem that her allies had came from, they would have already vanished to whatever hell she had disappeared to in the first place. Yet, his conviction that Zenia was human came with another realization, that if all her faculties were in order she could easily be plotting to strike them down later. Yet, as he watched the girl from One clutch at her wounded abdomen, he knew that the only time that existed in the arena was the present.

"Get your head out of the clouds, Jade. It's not a good look on you."

The girl's words were harsh, but Jade's mental state was truly the least of his concerns right now. She had never been particularly forthcoming about herself, but if there was one thing Dominic knew about her it was that she wouldn't give up until she was quite literally dead, and she was teetering a lot closer to that point than he would have liked. He carefully stepped forward and stretched his arm out in front of her, glaring at the boy who seemed so hell-bent on destroying her.

"I think the people watching you are different from the person watching me," he said, sword guiding his arm outward. "None of us want to die, but some of us have more to lose than others."

He couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh. "He's, what, your younger brother?" he asked. "I'm sorry, I don't know much about you, let alone what it's like to have my family depend on me, but whatever you're losing in here is far greater than anything you would've lost out there."

Dominic turned his mace over in his hands, the rain making the gems glisten just a bit brighter. He had trained for this for years, but he could never say that winning the Games was something he truly wanted. He had never been one for fame, or glory, or the copious wealth that supposedly came with a victory. A 95 percent chance of death - or in Zenia's case, a trip to hell - had never and would never be worth it.

But here he was, and if he had been chosen to die, then well, he'd choose to live.

[dominic attacks cyro with geode morning star]
zs9iM||AL0spiked blunt

accuracy, day 4

spiked blunt
14135 - stabbed in bicep - 8.5 damage + 1 strength

table by puppy

spiked blunt·spiked blunt

Last Edit: Jul 8, 2020 12:56:53 GMT -5 by fireflyz

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four Jul 8, 2020 15:02:22 GMT -5

Quote

Post by kap on Jul 8, 2020 15:02:22 GMT -5

A few more words come from the girl I'd hit, but everyone else ignores me. They're all caught up in their own conversations. I give a panicked look to Dominic. I'm going to die- I can feel it. As the weapons continue to cut into me, one colliding with my cheek, I don't know what to do other than keep fighting, but that doesn't seem to be doing a whole hell of a lot.

One girl throws her knife at me but misses. It's a slight sense of relief, but I still don't feel like I'm likely to survive this encounter. I never should have struck this girl in the bloodbath, because now, she's going to end my life and there's not a guarantee that I'll come back like Zenia did.

"I'm not ready to die, Dom," I croak out.

My weapon is gripped tightly in my hands, and I refuse to let myself freeze up. That's not something I can do if I have any hope of wanting to make it out of this fight, much less this arena, alive. I take a deep breath in and a deep breath out. I can do this. I can do this. I don't know if I can do this.

I start to have serious doubts about my own abilities at this moment, and I don't really know what to do anymore. Is fighting going to actually get my anywhere?

Yes, it is.

I have to stop doubting myself, and I have to keep fighting no matter what happens to me. We have to keep each other alive, but I won't become angered at my allies if they can't keep me that way. No, I won't be like Zenia and how she feels toward Jade. I can't be like that, even if I do make it back after dying and Jade thinks I'm some sort of mutt.

It's not an option. Only fighting is an option right now.

table by puppy

[Pisces attacks Lysander with Geode Morning Star (Spiked Blunt)]
FJJDEYPjYgspiked blunt
[14200 -- BROKEN LEFT ARM -- 6.5 damage]

spiked blunt

Last Edit: Jul 8, 2020 15:03:09 GMT -5 by kap

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return to hell // ffg vs. wnn // day four

Post by gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ on Jul 5, 2020 18:28:50 GMT -5

Post by cass on Jul 5, 2020 18:39:35 GMT -5

Post by pup on Jul 5, 2020 20:27:06 GMT -5

Post by Tom on Jul 6, 2020 0:05:59 GMT -5

Post by k!ah on Jul 6, 2020 0:30:22 GMT -5

Post by fireflyz on Jul 6, 2020 12:12:56 GMT -5

Post by kap on Jul 6, 2020 15:06:34 GMT -5

Post by D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine on Jul 7, 2020 1:18:24 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕ on Jul 7, 2020 11:43:39 GMT -5

Post by cass on Jul 7, 2020 18:11:20 GMT -5

Post by pup on Jul 7, 2020 18:50:05 GMT -5

Post by Tom on Jul 7, 2020 19:19:15 GMT -5

Post by k!ah on Jul 8, 2020 0:19:43 GMT -5

Post by fireflyz on Jul 8, 2020 12:55:21 GMT -5

Post by kap on Jul 8, 2020 15:02:22 GMT -5