The Bloodbath

Python
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The Bloodbath Sept 16, 2020 22:43:09 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Python on Sept 16, 2020 22:43:09 GMT -5

Sage channeled their rage into the lion's hide. They knew it wasn't the lion's fault it was released here to feed on innocent children, but that type of moral dilemma would not stop Sage from killing it. Nothing equaled a human life in Sage's eyes, especially if that life was pure. Those that sat among the stands screaming in delight were not pure - they were brainwashed sadists, and there was nothing Sage could do to shut them up. They had to shift their focus to defending their own life, and the life of the boy behind them.

As more animals poured into the stadium, Sage glanced at said boy. "Hey, kid - whatever your name is - you might wanna pick up that sword!" They wiped lion's blood on their uniform. Sage already knew what death smelled like, so a little blood meant nothing. "You have to fight for yourself! I can only do so much." And that was Sage's way of saying I can't make any promises. They would try their best to be a hero, but they could not promise sanctuary. They had to be realistic - a lot of people were about to die. Perhaps all of them, if the Capitol decided to be merciless.

Sage couldn't keep count of what was what - who was alive, who was dead. A horned beast tried to gorge them in the arm, but they only cared about the boy behind them. "When I turn around, you better be holding that sword!" They shouted, clenching their jaw through the pain. Teeth bared, they turned toward the horned animal and swung.

"Fuck off!"

[sage encourages mohamed to pick up his sword and attacks the babirusa]

[attacks Baal the Babirusa - sword]
zyuR4a57fHsword
Stabbed in Foot -- 8.0 damage

sword

Last Edit: Sept 16, 2020 22:43:50 GMT -5 by Python

ryan
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over the moon, where all the wild things are

The Bloodbath Sept 16, 2020 23:13:12 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ryan on Sept 16, 2020 23:13:12 GMT -5

There is nothing but bloodshed and carnage as you swing your sword into the enemy. Its all so surreal, the feeling of your blade kissing the skin of an animal that you thought you would never see. However, there it was, staring at you and making it very clear that it would not back down without a fight.

Little did it know that you wouldn’t go down either.

”Poetic…” you said as you watched Mario swing his blade, and then Paloma, Ander, and Seui Ngahn had all followed quickly. It was weird, being in a group of people that seemed just mesh well. You felt like this was the type of family that you wished you had. All of them so strong and resilient even in the face of death.

Your brothers could never. Your mind wandered to memories of them sitting around the fire pit that your father had painstakingly added to the backyard of your house and how they would all sit around it and talk about what it would be like to get out of the mines. The story always ended the same way, they thought they would die down there. They thought you would want to join them in their pity party but you didn’t. When you got home, you simply wanted to retreat to your room and decompress. It was enough that you already hated the job, listening to them talk about death and dying was not the most ideal for you.

It was enough to force a laugh from you.

The animals were quick to show you what pain meant. Before you could even blink, the lion you attacked had swiped across your stomach. You winced in pain for a moment, pausing in fear before taking a deep breath. It hurt, you were not going to lie about that. You wondered what it was like to die. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could be reunited with your mother and maybe even get the chance to do what you actually loved.

There could be so many benefits, and even when in the face of danger, you still didn’t waiver, because at the end of the day, you wanted so much more for the life you had been given. You wanted to grow up and break free of the chains that bound you, show the world that you could do anything you put your mind to, and rise amongst the grain and simply exist.

And you dying would hinder that more than anything. So you had to fight, but not the other people that you had been calling your family. No. You had to fight these beasts in order to prove a point that you were not afraid of them. They could roar and screech and slice and murder all they wanted, but they would have to stick their claws into your neck before they would ever evoke fear out of you.

Maybe you were foolish? But weren’t you all? Thinking that you could take on the capitol in such a way? All of the ignorance in the world could not even match what transpired here. However, it was a fight you all were willing to fight, and that became even more apparent as you watched Paloma, and Drifter, and Mario, and Seui Ngahn, and so many other tributes swing whatever they could at the animals before them.

And it all started with you igniting the flame.

You had never been a flame boy, but you knew that you could set a couple fires. And even now as another animal had come out of nowhere and swiped at your hip, you did not fall. Because you were fall-less. Infallible and strong and full of the grit that you needed in order to survive something like this.

Of course it would come down to luck, but you didn’t think about that as you took a step back for a moment and watched as other tributes had piled into the battlefield. No one was afraid at this point. You as a collective was starting to make traction, and it made you grin as they hacked off limbs and sliced through their skin just like you did. Maybe you would relish in this just a little bit, because that was what you were owed.

Fuck the capitol and its machinations.

”If they want to kill us, they are gonna have to try harder.” You speak as you hold up your sword and breath. A simple gesture, but one that calmed your mind as you focused off the pain, and onto the animals in front of you. ”Because if they think that some circus attraction is gonna bring us down…” you smirk and raise your sword ”they really have underestimated us.” you are just talking at this point, but you know that someone is listening.

”Come here kitty…” you said as you step forward.

”Lets play.”

And you swing and sing at the same time.

[OOC: I got tired of quoting LOL so Post 5]
[Coal Stone attacks Grimsby (lion mutt) | Sword]
|yotRN1FJssword
[1010 -- Severed Left Calf at Knee -- 9.0 damage
(Sword)]

sword

Last Edit: Sept 16, 2020 23:14:09 GMT -5 by ryan

shrimp
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The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 0:00:44 GMT -5

Quote

Post by shrimp on Sept 17, 2020 0:00:44 GMT -5

張水銀
séui ngàhn cheung

"Hold the fucking line!"

Mario yells, and Séui Ngàhn senses that they're standing back to back. But it all feels as if it's being passed through a filter. There is little that's louder than the heartbeats echoing in his head. It's too early to be like this, too early to be nearly done. Paloma and Drifter and Cole stay steady, the five of them spread out in a formation that would only be created through happenstance and panic. There are no soldiers in this fight. There is only prey.

He'll never make it out of here.

It's a quiet fact, and it doesn't fill him with the bitter rush of dread that he thought it would. It's gentle. Nice, even. It fills the gaps between his ragged breaths, and drapes over him like a thick blanket, holds him there. It tells him that there is nothing more he can do, that the others will have to handle themselves, that he cannot be extra weight.

Something reptilian, the sun shining off its snow white scales, had bit deep into his calf when he had left his guard open. The lion had followed suit, snagging him in the same spot en route to its next victim. Now blood coats his leg like an oil slick, and he shifts as much weight as he can onto his other foot. But he's fading, and fast.

He thinks Forrest would have stood his ground. There was always a strength to him that made Séui Ngàhn jealous, a conviction and a purpose that lay in each footstep. Forrest was smart. He liked to read up on the world around him. He made a choice and stuck with it. He would have known what to do. There is no doubt in Séui Ngàhn's mind that his brother is screaming at the television, broadcasting the right answers to the wrong people. Maybe Venus is screaming back at him, not wanting the last glimpses of her younger brother's life to be marred by desperate pleas to inhuman pixels.

His parents, Gūng Gūng, Ye Ye and Yin Yin- no, he can't think about that.

His family liked to say that he could do anything once he recognized the goal in the distance, and marked it. But looking back, did he ever see any? There was a childhood spent learning ballet, and liking it, and falling asleep in a coffee shop's booth while his parents performed for a crowd. And there was the pale green hue of hospital lights, and nurses in scrubs who told the five of them that they were good kids, and tea that tasted like cardboard, and a brother who fell asleep crying and never woke up.

And there were the trees that blurred together on a crowded train as Venus bickered with Forrest, and stories told four times over at a dining room table, and whispers of sedition, and the sneer of a Keeper, and casual bomb drills at school, the thrum of an off-kilter bass to each of his steps--because it was better to dance in a shitty group than never dance at all. And fire so bright it still leaves him blinking.

Somewhere, in between the movements, he had forgotten to develop the shape of his future. It turned into complacent tomorrows and hesitant maybes and days spent exhausted from navigating a maze without a guide. Perhaps his entire generation feels that way. I get it now, he wants to say to Fó Gwōng. I understand your anger. But I will never forgive the way it killed you.

The lion falls, and the adrenaline that rushes through his veins pulls him slightly out of the miasma. He blinks, smiles, laughs even. "Nice!," he shouts, the strain in the back of his throat turning his words towards gravel. He wishes he could be more eloquent, maybe call Coal something cool like Lion King or Lionheart or The Vengeance Slasher. No, those are bad. He was always shit at words.

But as the retribution grows, he spots movement at the periphery: the hyena, who pounces even as he shouts one syllable in warning - "AI-,"

There is not enough time to stop it from leaping at Paloma (a Paladin, a Philosopher, a Friend from a lost timeline) and then at Coal (King of Twelve, Slayer of Lions, Braver than Séui Ngàhn ever was), but there is enough time to make one quick decision. He knows enough now about his future to be aware of its end. And he's damn sure that this is not on his terms--who would want to die like this? But as he slams his shoulder into Mario, and pushes himself right into the hyena's path, he maps out the steps, falls into a rhythm.

One-

two-

[checks Mario out of the way of Gilda]

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 0:03:22 GMT -5 by shrimp

WT
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time, gender, furbies, and other things that don't exist

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 0:26:27 GMT -5

Quote

Post by WT on Sept 17, 2020 0:26:27 GMT -5

If you had grown up on the plains, odds are you would recognize this pain. Any number of things can befall a hyena out there, from hooves cracking collarbones to a lion's claws chasing a clan off their kill; in the sheltered and tended life you have lived, aside from the agonizing but altogether different pangs of hunger, the worst thing you have ever felt has been the occasional scrape from a hierarchy scuffle with clan newcomers.

Or it was, until you felt your neck blaze not half an hour ago—but even that was different, stinging and furious but brief. The pain of the gash splitting your right leg to the bone doesn't fade. If anything it gets worse, flaring bright and shooting up and down the rest of your leg as you stagger and unthinkingly try to put your weight on it. When you try to snap back in retaliation it's a frantic, instinctive move, and the human—as young and slight as any other on this field, someone you expected no challenge from at all—slides away from your teeth as easily as you knocked the previous human's kick aside.

All the confidence you gathered breezing through the other humans pours out of you with your blood. Hyenas are hunters; you can risk being neither cowards nor fools. There is a flap of muscle hanging from your leg and the human who made sure of that is moving away toward the lion, the last direction you would want to go even if you wanted to follow. Around her—around you—other, equally harmless-looking humans drive metal into and through the big cats, scream but stay standing as a boar and a pair of creatures whose natures you can't even hazard a guess at tear through them. You know, as surely as you would know when to leave a kill to an angry pride or concede to the monarch of your clan, that you are outclassed.

You run.

Your neck burns.

By comparison, the collar is almost gentle this time, a burn rather than a sear. Already unbalanced by your leg, you scream and crash down anyway. The moment you hit the ground the pain around your neck eases; the moment you stagger to your feet and lurch forward again it builds again.

Two repetitions of this, and you begin to understand.

There is no cue, no friendly voice or smile, no meatball, but you know enough of training to turn around, and your guess is rewarded by the collar going blissfully still. You hesitate for a moment longer—even before the lion you fled from so quickly falls amidst a clump of humans, your throbbing leg makes sure you're not eager to put yourself back into their fray—but the collar is certain, and you already know you can't get it off. Fearsome as they are, the humans are fragile. Cackling hysterically, learning as you go how to compensate for your wounded leg in your gait, you run back.

[Gilda attacks D4F Catamaran 'Cat' Stowe]
qUfJI4B4CCknife
[Shallow Cut on Left Forearm - 3.5]

[Gilda attacks D1M Knox De Sol]
knife
[Shallow Cut on Left Forearm - 3.5]

[Gilda attacks D12M Coal Stone]
knife
[Shallow Cut on Left Shoulder - 3.5]

[Gilda attacks D10F Paloma Jiménez]
knife
[Shallow Cut on Left Shoulder - 3.5]

[Gilda attacks D10M Séui Ngàhn Cheung]
knife
[Shallow Cut on Neck - 4]

Keen to avoid the lion's fate, you avoid standing in any place for longer than it takes you to leap and land. That's no way to aim, and by the standards of a species known to bring down wildebeest your strikes are paltry, but what matters more is that staying light on your feet keeps you alive. It gives you time, as the dismembered boar follows the lion, to graze the arm of one already profusely bleeding human, then dart away. It rescues you from getting irreparably entangled when one of the strange creatures, the low white one, slinks up to your newest target and he swings his metal piece down. It appeases the fire waiting patiently around your neck.

It almost makes it easy, when you're trying to both look and run every direction at once, to run headlong into a clump of humans. You don't realize your mistake until you've already bitten the first, when you try to spring away and find another in your path. Because the best target is always the one in front of you, you bite that one, too, but she doesn't move enough to make the opening you need. Landing hard and panting harder, you give up on moving her without another thought and whirl to find another human; judging the distance far enough for a few steps of a running start, you take a step, then a bound—

—and another human slams the one you were aiming for out of the way. You're as happy to bite this new one as the other, and you do. But your stationary target suddenly has momentum, and there's no room to adjust your angle; going for the throat becomes a shallow tear across his neck, and you spend the first precious second after you hit the sand reeling.

knife·knife·knife·knife·knife

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 2:33:50 GMT -5 by WT

'the way we lived' in stylized text, with 'character directory' as a subtitle underneath

banner by Dars! <3

lance
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gay and chaotic? call it gayos

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 0:41:44 GMT -5

Quote

Post by lance on Sept 17, 2020 0:41:44 GMT -5

m o h a m e d .

"you are weak
but not foolish
you have learned
how to die."

You watch as blood, chaos, and screams reign around you. You watch, wide eyes unblinking in terror, as a boy gets ripped to shreds.

The first death. The first kid whose blood and soul would forever stain the dirt of the arena from this year's group.

The first kid who must die before you can get home to your brother.

Six is yelling at you, pushing you to get up and do something. Protect yourself. Hold your sword and fight instead of standing still. Stuff you all knew you should do, and had told yourself a million times that you could do.

Words were so easy, weren't they? You can tell yourself something over and over again to the point where you convince yourself that if you say something enough times, then it will by default become reality. Words were so easy and actions were so, so hard - swinging a toy sword at thin air was one thing. Swinging a real sword made with sharpened metal at a living, breathing person - or worse, a gigantic, snarling muttation who could end your life with a single swing of a big, meaty paw - was something else entirely.

But Six wasn't just talking the talk. They were walking the walk, too. They struck out at first one beast, then another - and then received returning volleys for their trouble. But they stood tall, strong, brave, everything that you'd told yourself you'd embody.

And you think about it, for a few seconds. What is the image you want Ahmed back home to see? What do you want your brother's last memories of you to be? That of a sniveling coward, or that of a boy who met his fate with open arms? What was bravery? What was the true honoring of your family's memory.

And you think some more. Why had you been put in your position in a first place. Mama, Papa, Khaled, Amira, Fatima - they had all died doing brave things. Helping soldiers under her command. Attempting to save a life in a warzone. Valiantly attempting to apprehend a traitor. Seeking revenge for the murder of a loved one. Acting as a distraction so that others may live.

They'd all given their lives for selfless causes. For someone else, instead of themselves. And it'd be shameful for you to do the same.

It'd be a goddamned shame if this tribute from Six who you'd never met before became the next name on an increasingly long list of people who have died for you because you were too scared, too weak to pull you own weight.

For your family, you had an excuse. You were six, seven, ten, eleven. Too young to know better.

But now you were fifteen. Only three years younger than Fatima when she had given her own life to save your own. Five years younger than Amira and six years younger than Khaled, who had fought on the front lines of the war in Five to protect others. And three years older than the little boys and girls who had been selected in the past three years to fight to the death for someone else's entertainment in this very arena that is once again coated in children's blood.

You had no excuse. And you were a damned fool to convince yourself otherwise.

You close your eyes, flashes of the dead boy and the kid from Six stark across your vision. You take a deep breath, tasting dirt and sweat and blood and tears. You tighten your grip, feeling the weight of the sword in your hand - this time a comfort, instead of a hindrance.

And when you open your eyes, you know what you must do.

"My name's Mohamed," you say, steel calm supplanting icy fear in your voice. "'m not a kid."

And you're ready to damn well prove it.

You step up next to Six, past Six, and with a scream full of too many emotions to count, you swing your sword at the direction of the great horned beast that had dared presume it could end your life.

elegant

[mohamed has a crisis, comes to terms with his own mortality, and attacks baal the babiursa with his sword]

_UNVEs_r3Tsword

1144 -- Deep Gash on Cheek -- 8.5 damage

sword

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 0:42:51 GMT -5 by lance

credit to darsypoo uwu

credit to fireflyz!

credit to stare!

k!ah
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#expensivetrash

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 7:07:21 GMT -5

Quote

Post by k!ah on Sept 17, 2020 7:07:21 GMT -5

D U S T I N .

A sob slips past her lips moments before she leans in, kissing him lightly. And suddenly he forgot where he was. He forgot that he was in an arena, that in mere moments he might be dead. He forgot that this world was bigger than just Dustin Carter and Nanette Emsworth. Because at this very moment it was just the two of them, just Nan and Dusty and no one else.

But the moment his eyes find her cheek, the blood, the torn flesh, the exposed teeth, the bubble he had formed around them bursts, and he sucked violently back into his reality. His heart becomes stuck at the base of his throat, making it hard for him to breathe. They were going to die. They were going to be ripped to shreds by the claws of of some beast-

“Dustin, move!”

Hands shove him and he is falling backwards, thrown off balance as a flash of gold darts past him, colliding with Nan. "Nan!" He cries, scrambling to his feet. His world is turned upside down as her screams fill his ears. As the smell of her blood fills his nose, as the image of her lifeless on the ground has a scream breaking past the guard of his lips. "Nan! Nan!" he sobs, the lions teeth bared in her face, dripping with crimson.

No. It was going to kill her.

But after another moment it retreats, leaving her broken, torn body, withering on the ground, turning it red. Claws had mutilated the soft flesh of her chest, ripping it open in an attempt to find her beating heart. Speechless he falls to to his knees beside her, tears pricking the corner of his eyes as he watches, helps, as more and more blood escapes her body.

A girl broken, she continues to fight. It might as well be his heart that was bared to the world, ripped from its cavity as he begged Ripred, anyone, to save her.

But of course his pleas were thrusted upon closed ears, his desperation meet with an iron wall as blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

There was too much, dark and light, it covered her uniform. He could see torn muscles twitching as they adjusted to their new life. "Oh, Nan, please, please don't leave me." He begs her, hands moving to her face, gently pushing back dark strands of hair. "Please, Nan, don't let go. I- I can't lose you." Tears he had not shed for years seemed to trail down his cheek in an endless stream, mingling with his sweat, with her blood.

Choking on unspoken words her eyes meet his own, her hands depurate grabbing at his own as she fought to hold on that little bit longer. To hold onto so many missed moments, moments that would forever be a fantasy. He hated seeing her in pain, hated the way her body withered as her heart tried to push on, pumping blood around her body. But he knew it was no use, the blood gushing from wounds that marked were marked with death.

"Hey, hey it's okay," he whispers, moving so that her head was cradled in his lap, hands gently running through dirt and blood streaked hair. "Don't try and say anything, okay?" he whispers, eyes not for one moment leaving hers. Let go, he wants to whisper, to save her from the pain that swirled in the depth of eyes that reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winters day. Eyes that warmed him from the inside. Eyes with a light that had begun to fade.

Let go, I'll be okay. It was a lie. His heart belonged to her now, and the moment she died she would take it with her, leaving him an empty shell of who he was.

[ post 6 ]

✮ UPAT ✮

я𝑜𝓈𝑒
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The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 10:53:51 GMT -5

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Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Sept 17, 2020 10:53:51 GMT -5

n i e v e

You stand there, shocked for a moment, as you slice the leg off the mutt that attacked you. It wails in pain, and you watch, dumbstruck both at what you have done and at the fact that its severed leg does not stop it from continuing its rampage across the Arena.

Maybe, just maybe you can do this.

As adrenaline courses through your body, the searing pain on your head begins to ebb. Your split helmet has fallen to the ground somewhere, but you don't bother to look where.

One of the mutts lunges for Piper again, and you cry out her name — "Piper!" — as you try to help defend her, but the mutt darts away before your sword can even even scrape its flesh.

It's almost funny, how Piper and Izzy wanted to protect you, and now you are trying to help protect them. You can't let them be your human shields, and if you were able to sever the leg of a mutt before, maybe you can be of some use rather than dead weight dragging them down.

The mutt that attacked you falls — but so does the first tribute. As his body hits the ground and his blood pools onto the sand, you let out a gasp, but it soon turns into a shriek as another mutt's claws slice across your flesh. Your arm burns as blood gushes from the wound, and before you can react, the mutt claws at your thigh, too.

If not for the sheer force of will to stay alive, you may have wanted to give up right then and there. You've never bled this much before, never felt such crushing fear in all of your twelve short years of life. Your eyes lock with the mutt's — it's an alligator, but white and pale and colorless, like you.

Part of you wants to hide behind Piper and Izzy, but you do not give into the fear. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. If you don't fight, you — and your newfound friends — will die.

So you swing your sword with all your might, even as blood from your arm trickles down to the hilt of your blade.

[nieve attacks jemma with sword]
|HGz4xU4Imsword
[1146 -- Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damage]

яose

sword

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 10:59:25 GMT -5 by я𝑜𝓈𝑒

"even stars burn out."

Kire
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thinking about thonking

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 11:32:39 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Kire on Sept 17, 2020 11:32:39 GMT -5

Josephine Bartlett

Somehow, she is left alone. By tributes and mutts alike, she is ignored. She wasn't foolish enough to believe that her shaking sword was enough to drive off the beasts, just simply she was far enough out of the way that it was more of an inconvenience than other targets. The other tributes were too occupied with the creatures to pay her any heed. She would treat it like a blessing, even as the memory of those brief moments of connection with Luella came back to her.

She was better off staying to the side and out of the melee.

Watching in horror, she saw people being gouged, torn, and chewed on. One boy had his hand closed on by a while alligator while another was raked viciously by emu talons. Most people were bleeding, even if they had only been bruised after last night. The lion and leopard continued to pounce, and a boar attempted to gore people with its tusks. The sand in the arena was beginning to turn red.

Even so, it wasn't all the blood of the tributes. Many deep wounds were laid across the hides of these mutts. With one tremendous blow, a boy cut an entire leg off of the lion and left it laying in the sand, the life leaving its eyes as the blood left its body. Another boy, her district partner - she couldn't remember his name, something starting with M - stabbed into the pig's face and left it also bleeding out. The tide hadn't turned, but with six creatures and twenty-four of them, the odds were that they could out-power the beasts eventually.

BOOM

The sound of the canon sent her head whipping to see what had happened. There, behind some of the other tributes and mutts, was a boy with the gator's jaws around his chest. He wasn't moving, and the limp way his head and arms flopped told her all she needed to know. This first of them had fallen.

She wasn't safe here, but it was better than being in the thick of it. Already, by staying out of the way, she had outlived one person. The blunt, hard-hearted thought both steadied and frightened her. Look out for yourself first, look out for yourself first. She repeated her family's motto to herself over and over, reminding herself that she was no use to anyone dead. Technically, if she really considered that point, she might actually be more use to everyone in this ring were she dead because they would all be closer to going home. No, though, she would look after herself first.

Gripping her sword harder, she tried to keep the point from swaying in the air before her. If one of those beasts came after her, she would have to be ready.

On hills and waves on stormy days.

umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]
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7,906 POSTS
Member is Online

— 🥀 —

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 12:39:30 GMT -5

Quote

Post by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] on Sept 17, 2020 12:39:30 GMT -5

Momma Serafine takes her time, you can bet ya life on it, dollface. I've seen the real world; it's a dark and nasty place. Which, don't get me wrong, made me right. at. home. 'Cherpent?' Ever heard of it? Yep, that's right, honey. You're looking at the very snake that popularized riding humans on stage during live performances. Ah, baby, you know how many young folk had me on their walls? Celebrated. That's a feeling like no other.

The point I am trying to make is that the show doesn't start until I arrive; everyone knows it so let's not mince our words, hun. I'm the moment and time is frozen, so enjoy me as I slither up the steps. Ah, Momma hasn't eaten in over a week. I'm positively ravenous. But I am no fool: I see the other animals- barbarians- trampling on the easy pickings; my instinct is to go to the others, the idiots who sit there and watch and wait. But when I get to the edge of the barrier, my sleek head tilting up to see how far I would have to climb, I reconsider.

Momma 'Fine don't do heights, baby. Not since the fall during that concert. Stupid little bottle blonde thought she could handle all of these deluxe coils. It shouldn't have been shocking at all when she sent us both crashing into the audience, oh, and how did that turn out? Fans- my fans- helping her up and asking if she's okay while they cower away from me. People screamed. Screamed. As if it were my fault.

The audacity of some people. The nerve. They sent me to a zoo.

I do a quick spin, ignoring the positively heinous feeling of the dry sand on my belly. If I can't get to the others, I suppose its easy pickings for supper.

^{[ SERAFINE ATTACKS KNOX ]}
hfkPvBAjBUsword

^{[ 1183 -- Severed Right Calf at Knee -- 9.0 damage ]}

filler for second attack

^{[ SERAFINE ATTACKS JOSEPHINE ]}
sword

^{[ 1024 -- Severed Right Hand at Wrist -- 9.0 damage ]}

filler for third attack

^{[ SERAFINE ATTACKS LUELLA ]}
sword

^{[ 1017 -- Block -- 0.0 damage ]}

filler for fourth attack.

^{[ SERAFINE ATTACKS AUDEN ]}
sword

^{[ 1178 -- Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage ]}

filler for fifth attack

^{[ SERAFINE ATTACKS SEUI ]}
sword

^{[ 1166 -- Shallow Cut on Right Bicep -- 3.5 damage ]}

filler for sixth attack

^{[ SERAFINE ATTACKS NIEVE ]}
sword

^{[ 1068 -- Shallow Cut on Left Calf -- 3.5 damage ]}

sword·sword·sword·sword·sword·sword

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 12:47:13 GMT -5 by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

kap
Retired Staff

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trans rights are human rights <3

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 12:47:26 GMT -5

Quote

Post by kap on Sept 17, 2020 12:47:26 GMT -5

"This is a revolution.
We are rising up."

Two beasts fall, but not before a tribute does. The reptile creature attacks the boy's chest, and he falls. It's the first death of the 4th Hunger Games, and Vanya wishes again and again that she could erase that vision from her memory. Unfortunately she knows that, even if she survives all of this, that will never go away.

She certainly wasn't looking forward to the thought of more tributes dying, either. Whether or not it was herself, it certainly wasn't an exciting thought. If anything, it was an absolutely despicable thought. The deaths of actual people had always scared Vanya, but she'd never seen it in person until now. The thing is, the deaths of these vicious animals, and the large wound she inflicted on one didn't even make her flinch. Did that make her cruel? Was she the real monster here?

No. She couldn't be the real monster. She was defending herself and the other tributes the best that she could. She was sure that her mother and brother watching were proud of her, and even though her father wasn't alive to see it, he would have been proud of her, too.

Vanya grips her sword tighter and quickly makes her way toward one of the remaining, less wounded beasts. It's a large bird of some sort, bigger than any bird she'd ever seen. It'd been attacking tributes, and it wasn't a person, so to her, it was fair game. She wanted to protect the tributes, and to do so, she had to attack this bird and try to take it down.

She swung her blade at the bird. Her silver bracelet that she now wore was glinting in the sunlight like the silver collars around the neck of the beast.

Although she was nervous as another creature emerged from the trap door to replace one of the fallen, she was determined.

She wasn't going to be the one to lose her silver band before they did.

elegant & UNSECRET
graphic by mahouho

[9F VANYA MCALISTER attacks THOR THE EMU with SWORD]
c2vcjpNCYksword
[1049 -- Shallow Cut on Stomach -- 4.0 damage]

sword

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 12:48:59 GMT -5 by kap

Cato
Librarian

3,003 POSTS
Member is Online

I wish Cato didnt die

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 13:50:09 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Cato on Sept 17, 2020 13:50:09 GMT -5

Andromache Audacia

Looks like the kid got the hint after all. He launches an attack on the same animal I have. It's not dead yet, but well on its way. I chance a moments rest and survey the arena. There's a few animals dead and one body that's motionless. I haven't noticed anyone attack each other either. The kid could have gotten a jab in at any point. Even though everyone appears to be working together against the animals, I'm still very suspicious of what's going on. I suspect an alliance is secretly running this so called protest and they intend to ambush everyone as soon as things settle down.

Is that where my mistake is? Waiting and watching and being afraid of everything that's going on? I don't know. I just know people are dying, and it's terrifying. I don't want to join them. I just want to stay to myself and let myself live while everyone else crumbles before me. It's difficult even trying to stay alive when these animals are wondering around swatting and snapping at anything and everything standing in their way. It's crazy to think about. I used to think they were cute animals, but not anymore. They're deadly and confused like everyone here.

Before I can strike again, another person is walking over, and she's telling me that I have a mozzarella stick in my hair. I quickly try to grab it before anyone else can see it. Sometimes it's best just to pretend that everything is okay when in all reality, it's embarrassing. She introduces herself as Cat, like the thing that just mauled her. Part of me wonders if this is a trick to bring my closer to her so she can slit my throat when I'm not looking. But I don't get that vibe or anything. I look around, readying my sword and take a step back making sure I'm not standing still when these creatures come charging again.

I take a deep breath trying to figure everything out. At least things seem to be working, but it seems the animals are become more ferocious as time goes on. All I need is to just get away. I debate on telling her my name because sometimes it's best to keep myself nameless. Maybe it'll make it easier to kill me as time goes on. But since it doesn't look like that will happen, I take a moment to myself trying to figure out the best thing to do. The kid hasn't even told me his name, and I sure don't want him to know mine, but maybe Cat is different. "Andromache. I'm a petty one, so I intend to kill this animal that landed an attack on me." I charge the animal with my blood soaked sword intending to end its life.

District Two

[googlefont="Oswald:400"]

Andromache attacks Majjati | Sword

m9mPhlDvbqsword
1006 -- Shallow Cut on Left Bicep -- 3.5 damagesword

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 13:51:08 GMT -5 by Cato

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
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cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 15:57:55 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Sept 17, 2020 15:57:55 GMT -5

[attr="class","w460"] cypria graphic

They come for Knox, the terrifying, lumbering beasts. Most take a little taste. They leave behind hairline wounds that weep red. That's all the sense she can make of it. Just teeth and bloody lines.

"Better to die tryin’ to fight back than leyin’ ourselves down for ‘em," Calder wheezes. Cypria lifts her chin a bit higher.

Knox follows, "better to die together than to die alone."

Better not to die, she thinks, the words clear in her mind's eye. All at once she stops screaming and presses herself against the wall. "Let's not -" she starts to give voice to her thoughts when a scaled nightmare silences Calder forever.

Cypria can only gape. Open-mouthed, empty headed, gut frozen. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind is a warning bell, like the bomb drills from the war. Nothing she's seeing seems real. It's as though she's watching her own life through a sterile television screen. Such horrors cannot truly exist. And yet. A blaring, flaring thing keeps sounding in her thoughts, urging her to do -- something. But her feet are melding with the sand and her back is hot from the stones and she cannot move --

Even to warn Knox of the pale slithering thing wrapping around his leg. It strikes and there are no more red lines, just a fountain of life leeching away.

"I can't," she says through tears, even as she reaches for him. Her sword is long forgotten, covered in ash and sand and blood. Cypria wraps her arms around Knox's chest, holds his spine to her heart, and backpedals until she once again feels the heat of the arena's walls.

"I can't lose you."

[/div][/div]
[newclass=".w460"]width:460px;[/newclass][/font]

credit umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

credit ✨ zozo.

- chars -

marguerite harvard d2a (zori)
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🌻

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 17:44:39 GMT -5

Quote

Post by marguerite harvard d2a (zori) on Sept 17, 2020 17:44:39 GMT -5

🌟

A younger heart of his would’ve beat a rhythm of desperation. That’s what they knew back in six, hand to mouth, living in homes squeezed together held up by concrete and faith. Why did he strike back before he’d been struck? Why didn’t he give a shit about what he learned in school, when no matter the result he’d have ended up part of the sewer crew? His heart beat different, fearful of what a future meant when it was clear it’d never meant much of anything at all.

But the strings that bound him to a place so far away, a district beset by smog and smoke, the smell of putrid waste that burned through his nose night and day, somehow, he’d been set to a rhythm that would not allow for a crushed spirit. Strange enough, four years from rebellion boys like Mario were finding that they could endure even without a clear cause to die for. He’d have been dead if he were born five years earlier; it would’ve been a bullet through the chest after charging out of a ravine toward an enemy on high ground.

Was that the shame of it all, that even five years hence he’d die all the same?

Such was the song of six, his friends all finding one another because of how hard it’d ever been. Goblins that hung out in junkyards, they howled to the night and carried on as though at any moment, each of them could have wound up dead. Not so much from the fear that they’d be swept up in the Hunger Games. They had more pressing threats. Empty cupboards. Men and women who’d chase them for their parent’s debts. Boys who were taught to take. Girls who were taught that if they did not stand together, they stood for nothing. That anyone so pathetic was better off dead, and so they each could name one that had killed themselves for it.

Mario stood with his back to Séui Ngàhn and felt nothing but determined. Behind him was a boy who’d chosen to defy the rules as he had, who even as death barreled closer, hadn’t dropped his sword and begged for mercy. He wasn’t like the kids who’d run to the wall, or those that tried to stay out of the fray. Paloma, Coal, Drifter, all of them – they ignited what beat in Mario’s heart – they were at once martyrs set to lose everything, and heroes, too.

Even if Drifter had claimed he was more bark than bite, he stayed in the fray. Paloma gnashed by a ferocious cat, and Coal, too. She struck him as two steps ahead her whole life, not because of who she was, but what she’d had to see. Perhaps he projected what he wanted to believe, but somehow he expected their stories were closer to the truth than anyone in the stands.

A cannon sounded. Mario cocked his head and grumbled,

“I always said, pussy can fucking kill, bro,” Mario broke out into a fit of laughter as his own joke. His heart still beat harder and faster than it’d ever before, but he still found a way to switch up the mood.

Out of the corner of his eye, the hyena launched, grazing through Paloma and Coal, and set its sights on the boys back to back. Mario gritted his teeth, muttering out, “Just come and try me, motherfucker,” with a twist of his sword.

And then, he was pushed to the side, nearly losing his footing in the sand.

The boy at his back took the blow that’d been waiting for him, even as he seemed to sway on his feet.

“Are you crazy?!” Mario snapped. “Bro, don’t go getting yourself –”

Life was a fragile thing.

Perhaps that’s why Mario had been willing to fly so close to the sun. At least then he could taste the what it would feel like so close to the edge, to feel almost as though he was in control of his own demise.

He wondered if Séui Ngàhn felt the same way.

“No!” Mario was too slow to return the favor and push the boy from ten out of the way of the snake. He was helpless to watch as it snapped him from this world to the next. He snarled again, this time attempting to drive his sword into the beast’s back. “EEEEEYAAAAAAAARGH!”

He turned back to Séui Ngàhn and rushed to his side.

“Buddy, hey, buddy,” Mario felt the words catch in his throat, “Man, you got this, c’mon…”

mario attacks serafine (the snake) with his sword
0JS6T_BPF8sword
result:Deep Gash on Back of Head -- 9.0 damage
(Sword)sword

Last Edit: Sept 17, 2020 17:45:43 GMT -5 by marguerite harvard d2a (zori)

[nyte]
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oof

The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 18:13:30 GMT -5

Quote

Post by [nyte] on Sept 17, 2020 18:13:30 GMT -5

lumi cartwright

Through vision gone hazy she sees an angel standing above her, haloed in harsh light and drying blood. I am Luella. Her promises are soothing, somehow cutting through the panic still overwhelming Lumi in agonizing waves. It's almost beautiful to watch how willingly they all have chosen to love one another. They've forged a painful brotherhood among this madness, just so they won't be alone when their end is forced upon them.

"I'm dying aren't I?" She isn't asking anyone in particular, eyes glazed as she gazes up at the sky. The answer is obvious. There's a monster above her, screams on all sides. She tries to get up when she recognizes Finn's voice but hardly finds the strength to keep breathing. She can feel death in the painful pitter-patter of her racing heart. It's cruel that her final moments have been made unlivable, nails dug into her palms hard enough to draw blood. As if that could distract from the way she's seeping out onto the arena. "I-I-I'm-"

sorry. I'm scared. I don't want to die.

Sobs wrack her body, too weak to keep her eyes more than half-open. The massacre is hazy, like a watercolor portrait of sweet heroes' punishment. There's a swell of pride in her chest at the thought. We stood up against the Capitol. They may kill us, but that doesn't erase this victory.

She tries not to scream when Finn pushes the mutt off of her and gathers her up in his arms, muffling it in her uniform and turning her face away from him. As if that would make her appear any stronger. "I- won't be able to keep that p-p-promise, Finn." With every words she feels herself sinking further into the ground, as though each syllable has stolen another heartbeat.

That's okay. She's found words worth dying for.

"I'm so angry."

It's too hard to keep her head up, so she lets it fall limp against his shoulder. "I really thought I could-" But even then, she'd rather die among this newfound family than rot in district three. Maybe that's how she finds the strength to smile up at Finn. "Thank you. For everything."

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

cass
Retired Staff

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The Bloodbath Sept 17, 2020 19:29:59 GMT -5

Quote

Post by cass on Sept 17, 2020 19:29:59 GMT -5

F I N N

The words that leave her lips are like a slap to the face. Echoed in fluorescent hallways, spoken from dried lips that gaze around with sunken eyes. It haunts you, chasing you through your nightmares. They’re words you’ve spoken yourself, lingering in the empty space of your hospital room. It’s always a question that’s spoken to no one; a declaration to the grim repeater sitting at the edge of your vision.

She falls into your arms as the mutt is pushed off her small, broken body. There’s blood everywhere, seeping into your clothes, dripping onto your skin. You’re frantic as you pull at her, tugging her against your chest, trying to desperately put some space between yourselves and the monsters. Her head flops against your chest, and if she wasn’t speaking, you’d have thought she was dead.

The wind carries her words, her heartbeat achingly slow against your hand as you try and stop some of the bleeding. But it’s futile, ridiculously and stupidly futile. There are too many wounds, too much blood and you don’t have enough hands to stop the bleeding.

It’s endlessly cruel- to watch the world die around you, tied to a hospital bed, only to escape that nightmare and be forced to watch even more children die. You’re wrapped in death. Those that stay by you die, and those that leave you vanish from your life without even a goodbye.

It hurts. Why does it always have to hurt?

You bow your head, tears slipping from your eyes as you press it to Lumi’s chest. You’re so tired, built from your own misery and abandonment, raised by the grim reaper. You don’t want it to hurt another person, you don’t want to be the reason why another person dies. It follows you, lashing out and pushing everyone away.

You’re destined to face the world alone. You’ll die alone.

“Please, Lumi,” you sob, a shaking hand brushing against her head. Your voice cracks, splitting into a thousand pieces as your heart shatters. Bits and pieces of the shards slipping past your lips as broken sobs, encompassing this small and terrifying place. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

Please don’t leave me. The same words you said to your mum. Whispered into the phone line as silence followed, the gentle end tone of the phone greeting you after a few hesitant moments.

“Please don’t leave me,” it comes out as a plea, wrapped in the same desperation you had felt when you had asked your mum. When you had begged your dad to come in before your leg surgery; before they pulled you apart and shoved all the pieces back together. “I’ve got no one, Lumi, please don’t die.”

I don’t want to be alone.

O L S E N

kaitlin