Cider and spices couldn’t tame the frost that snipped at our cheeks, which coated the beast’s fur as it rounded us like prey. Maybe the capitol had gotten sick of two girls having a moment of glee, fed up that one hadn’t fallen prey in the bloodbath earlier. Neysa had broken her foot after all, and we were the only to escape limping away. Or maybe the wolf had simply sensed Neysa’s pain and sought her out to quell it with its fangs. Having seen the pathetic whined snap, retracting and nearly striking at my ally’s face, part of me wanted to snap at her to let me handle it. But I knew with the distance between, if I had, the wolf could have struck her already by then. I sucked my teeth with a shake of my head, kicking the medium-sized box towards the edge of a tree.

At Townsend, being a part of a team meant being potentially paired up with those you wouldn’t normally trust. Vibes was the opposite of me and slowly wore me down with her kindness. We saw a kindred spirit in each other, and part of me wished I could live with my head in the clouds as she did. I never got close to Viper, since I was still too scarred from the previous viper to trust this one. Never trust an Antoinette or a viper, since both will strike your hand without caution. But we are told, even if you wouldn’t normally get along with your team, that is what you’re assigned. You don’t turn your back on them, unless it’s a last resort. And even if you doubt them, trust them until proven otherwise, since we can’t trust sympathizers. I wasn’t sure what you were entirely capable of at that moment Neysa, after all your whip skills seemed like shit; but whatever happens, I’ll trust you. You don’t strike me as a sympathizer, and I’m sure you wouldn’t put up with me either if you suspected I was one. Just know it’s your foot at stake, not mine.

As the crate was shoved aside, my head and body immediately moved back towards Neysa, in a hesitant yet speedy caution to not disturb the mutt even more. Their standoff was announced as Neysa ordered, “Dom, watch out.” Her whip readied, Neysa closed the distance, and in that moment I wanted to tell her that’s the first mistake you can make when using a whip. If you’re to close the distance, you need a knife by your side just in case.

I couldn’t see past her shoulder, but the growling ceased. There was a moment of silence until hushed giggling erupted. Playful whining came from the dog as it nuzzled its face against Neysa’s jaw, licking its tongue by her ear. Smiling, I made my way over to Neysa and laughed softly at the two. “Seems like Eleven is more like Ten then.” My foot crunched over a small mound, garnering my attention. Dipping below I picked up two white capsules filled with needles and thread, and a diamond bracelet I slipped over my bare right hand. It matched my whip and the arena around, but since Neysa’s necklace had matched it made me smile. I didn’t care that it came from here, this was the closest thing to a token I could have.

From there the sun waned, nightfall quickly taking over. We told stories, took care of our wounds, and drank what remained of our apple cider to keep us warm, holding our jackets tight as temperatures dropped. The mutt that had taken a liking to Neysa was named Apricot, since she told me it reminded her of the street dogs from home. I couldn’t come up with a name, since the ones we had in Two weren’t kind. They were the type to bite your hand if you gave it food, and Thrax told me to stay away. “We’re all like vultures here, it’s a dog eat dog world” he told me, his hand on my shoulder the one time he had let me out. It was still in the first year, and the moments I was grateful for sunlight, too scared to run. The hand that clutched my boney structure held me like concrete; there wasn’t a point. I asked to feed them the scraps that day from what the others had eaten, and that’s when he told me that. “Leave ‘em be, D.D.” Thrax had muttered with a puffed toxic clouded sigh. “If you give them names, you’ll get too attached. They’ll be dead by next spring probably, there’s no point.” I didn’t want to tell Neysa, I couldn’t hurt the toothy grin and glint in her eyes as she scratched its neck. So when she proposed the name Apricot, I simply smiled and said it sounded cute, and asked her what an apricot tastes like.

Our hushed breathy stories were interrupted by the anthem that played above, a hollow one that was beautiful against the translucent trees. It was like the aurora that lined the skies above Two, reflecting against the steel city, and part of me couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Contented with this moment, happy to have had this day. Because I’m not sure how many more chances we’d get for days like this. The anthem’s tune and emptied faceless sky might as well have been blaring scarlet sirens, and Neysa’s hushed astonishment seemed as if she knew too. This was too pretty of a sight for an empty funeral, and the Capitol won’t rest until the casket is filled. Until canons of excitement shot through the sky as if confetti cannons filled with snow, with the supporting cast’s faces remembered above. Like the ending credits of any show yet reversed, in these games the capitolites loved the anticipation, only wanting the final cast to be revealed towards the end. And then their darling imposter lead role will take center stage, going on chariot ceremonious tours and rides through districts of the deceased to commemorate their performance. Cricket would want another lead for District 2, and I wanted that most of all too. But more cast would have to die and fill the sky, and all I can hope for is that any faces other than Two and Eleven would show tomorrow night.

I don’t think either of us could sleep last night. My stomach churned in the morning, probably from a lack of food from the night before but even so I don’t think I was in the mood to eat. As I sat up and stretched my stiff body from laying on the ground for the night, my warming muscles pushed away the nightmares from the night before. I was used to them by now, but it seemed it was worse than normal. Stupid fucking snow. Soon Neysa awoke too as the sun kept rising, Apricot stretching as well and shaking off snow onto her side which earned a snarky snicker. “Morning you two, seems like someone is eager to start the day.”

After stretching some more and checking on Neysa’s foot, which she waved my worries away, we both shoved our sleds. My backpack repetitively thunk with sponsored items against my spine, the cool metallic touch of my diamond bracelet against my wrist bone. Apricot’s footprints and Neysa led the way, weaving round strategically until a clearing was in view. Footprints filled in by snow seemed too faint to have been recent. My toffee eyes scanned the perimeter, and thankfully it all seemed vacant. We were in the clear, and we both couldn’t help but laugh and grin from relief.

I think Eleven was too eager, her eagerly trotting to the edge of the mirrored icy lake. Staring down briefly, Neysa announced her plan. “Let’s go skate on the lake!” Even Apricot’s head pulled back by my side, my mouth and corners of my eyes grimacing. Ice was no joke, and with her foot she’d be stupid to skate. I wanted to curse up a storm at how idiotic she was being, but instead I bit my tongue. Cool it hothead, it’s too early in the morning to start my shit. “No, that’s a bad idea.” I warned cooly, shrugging my weighted backpack off my shoulders. One foot stepping onto the ice, Neysa flashed a wicked smile that reminded me of the mischievous Vibes from back at Townsend, a smile I knew meant nothing good would follow. It was one I returned with a chuckled huff, rolling my eyes at her cheeky remark. “No, it’s a great idea! It’ll be fun and it looks sturdy enough!”

Bending down and fetching the camcorder and my whip, I devised a foolish plan, setting the camcorder to record us on top of my backpack. Apricot started to whine as Neysa slid further, a second warning tease remarking her way, “no, it’s really not.” Eleven slid further away from me, and as I stepped to follow, whip trailing me behind on the ice, my ideas of surprising her with my cracks seemed interrupted. I looked down below me, smiling as I watched my step. But horror seized my lungs, my lips parting as my curls whipped my hood back.

“Neysa wait!” my voice shattered the delighted moment, as a large beast dashed from under my legs towards my hobbling newfound friend. Oh fucking hell, why does the Capitol always have to take a giant shit on anything fun. The painful splicing of ice from under sounded, the cracking as if nails on a chalkboard until a large crashing erupted. It reminded me of the construction from back home. It sounded like the one time when concrete erected statues of our victors were being made, in an effort to boost morale and incentive to win from Two, at least in my town. But one of the banded crane’s belts had snapped, dropping and beheading Bryze. It was hysterical looking back, but horror filled all who saw. Since we didn’t know how the peacekeepers around would react, and so we all stayed silent until we could exhale behind closed doors, and snicker out of sight.

Chunks of ice were scattered to the sides, a leathered mutant with an intimidating horn roaring at Neysa. At least she kept her backpack and had her whip at bay, since we had another fiend to worry about. A spindly rodent scrambled across the ice from my side, as if heading the call of the disfigured mammal. It lunged towards Neysa, nicking her hip, while the rodent’s teeth commanded my attention. Using the ice to propel her movement, with a flashed side grasp she retrieved the whip from her bag, striking the ghare away from me. “Atta girl, that’s how it’s done!” I triumphantly shouted at Neysa’s crack. It was a hell of a lot better than last time, and although this wasn’t the best time to tease it’s not like the peacekeepers had their guns facing us like in the square. At least with the clad white ghare I could strike it. Jutting my forearm and thrusting it outward, my whip trailed towards the ghare, hoping the ice wouldn’t affect my strike. I can’t let Eleven show me up just yet, if not I won’t hear the end of it till tonight.

[Domitia attacks GIO the ghare with an ice whip]
6092 - MISS - 0.0 damage
aVO8RM3ATZwhip

[accuracy reroll because uh oh, stinky]
6007 - welt on chest - 2.5 damage
whip

I grin wildly as the mutated rabbit falls and Dom yells out "Atta girl, that's how it's done!"

Grasping the whip in my hand as I pull back, the weird blubbery creature scratching at me again. Reaching my hip, I feel it's teeth graze me as I ready my arm to strike again. It was all just a distraction from the gamemakers, an effort to destroy me before I can cause them any harm.

"Is this all you got Hazel! What about you, Marigold!" I yell out, my arm pulling back to strike.

"This isn't too bad, Dom. What was all the fuss about?"

[hi the rest of this is filler, but i'm going to fill it in later tonight probably. homework is i n s a n e rn]

[attacks shirley with ice whip]
MhSDqtTatswhip
[Attack 6151 [Whip] is DEEP GASH ON RIGHT THIGH, +8.0 dmg +1 mutt taming 9 dmg]

By now the glissading will-o-wisps of our whips had flickered blood against the carried frost, as if the thickened impurity had ordered the winds to cease. Today had been quieter than the prior, even the weather made sure to remind us. But perhaps it’s because the storm raged elsewhere, and it hasn’t swept us up in its warpath just yet. All I could hope for was that Shy or Delroy weren’t the ones caught up in the fray. It may be pointless to wish for death to evade them, as we all know what the outcome is. It hasn’t ever wavered, only once has it, and even then none of the returned were supposedly the same. And maybe it’s for the best that I didn’t watch those games, since it could have fueled a false hope. I’m used to false hope, it’s one that I’ve repeated to myself for years; whether it be rocking on concrete floors, to sterile closet bedrooms, or even when shaking hands of the team leader at Townsend.

I’ve always known- Domitia Drusilla, the world wants you to die.

I didn’t know when death would come for me, since just a simple jog outside now was a risk. Townsend sheltered me from my looming threat, but even still his eyes never left me. I felt them lurking through the showered mist of bathroom mirrors while I did my hair, or when watching my frame drip sweat droplets onto training mats in the academy training rooms. He wasn’t there, but that pit tightened in my stomach each time my whip ever missed. Since I couldn’t repeat before. If I’m to ever stare down death once more, my blade needs to be sharper, my whip lashes need to be precise. His bullet didn’t stray from dad’s forehead, so why should I give him the luxury to cheat death twice?

Perhaps Antoinette knew best to leave me after she did her deed, fleeing the hospital room as soon as she could stand, having not even looked at me. Maybe she could sense what path was set for me. And if she did, all I could say is fuck you. Dad would tell me whenever I wanted to give up on days where the world felt as if it had clamped around my ears and screwed further, and further, until my head could explode like a cantaloupe; “she may have left you behind, but I never will. When District 2 kicks you while you’re down, you rise up. You don’t stop until the fight is done. Since they won’t stop until you’ve backed down, peach.” I would sit on his lap, already growing too fast to fit in his frame normally. This was towards the end, when I had to stop attending school, had to constantly scavenge for resources, and tend to his wounds. It’s like I was always in this stupid fucking arena. I would bandage the needled bruises that littered dad’s arms then, so we both could pretend as if they weren’t there. But he had difficulty putting pressure on his left foot, so later I knew he was just shooting up through there.

“What if I don’t want to fight anymore dad? What if I’m tired, and maybe I just want to sleep for a while?”

His comforting large palm would press against my chaotic curly springs, squeezing his peach into his soaking thin sweatshirt as if he didn’t mind. Placing a kiss atop my head, he’d rest his cheek repeating. “You have a lifetime to sleep, peach. But if you stop now, they won’t ever let you rest. Once you back down, they know you’re theirs.”

He never went into specifics, and I knew best not to press any further. But I think I know now that I’m old enough. He never finished that story, but all that dad left me was- “I don’t want you to become like them. District 2 doesn’t need more people ‘em. You’re different, and I won’t let them ever touch you.”

I’m here now, dad. I’m stuck in a land of snow, tired since I can’t remember the last day I was able to sleep more than four hours in peace. It probably is the nightmares, or the restlessness that gnaws at my legs. I always have to be prepared for the fight, and you’re right. I can sleep once I’m done here, but it won’t be in the snow, or wherever the hell they dragged you to hibernate eternally. It’ll be after, and when I know he’s dead. Once I know District 2 won’t haunt me. Maybe it’s naïve, but they’re just a feral dog like the ones Thrax warned me about in the alley. Throw them some scraps, and they’ll fuck off for now, but they eventually circle back. District 2 is restless for new blood, hell maybe that’s why they dropped Bryze’s statue that one day. Although he wasn’t the best looking, so maybe it was for the best. Legend has it, someone stole his head that night and it was never found. That shit weighed hundreds of pounds, but fuck it. Welcome to District 2. 

Apricot whimpered, and I couldn’t tell if he was just eager for the mutt to be dead just as we were. Just don’t go tearing at it just yet, save some for us. Neysa insisted tirelessly through shorted huffs, “don’t worry, my leg’s just as fucked up as the rest of me. Just make sure it doesn’t get to you.”

Her words weren’t soothing to most, possibly they should have been troubling to the trained ear. But I couldn’t help but laugh, talking to the ragged leather beast before me. “Well Neysa, you’re one step closer to being an honorary career then.” Cracking my whip overhead, I grunted as I strike, just wanting this to be over with. I thought I would just have to deal with Neysa’s morning breath only. But now we have some feral dog trailing us that could jump on us whenever we’re half dead, and now we have this bastard getting blood everywhere and puffing more clouds than Thrax did by dawn. It’s wheezing snorts smelt what I could only imagine District 4 smells like, and for a second I would have rather taken Shy over this guy.

Scratch that, I can’t lie to myself like that. I could easily live another morning without having to smell vomit again.

[Domitia attacks SHIRLEY the seeley with an ice whip]
6043 - shallow cut on forehead - 4.5 damage
LEcn0I7pMpwhip

The disgusting creature started up at me with it's teeth bared. Jumping at me, it's blubber shook as I jumped out of the way. I could feel its whiskers brush past my face as the monster lunged for the kill.

The Capitol never failed to amaze me with how disgusted I could be with it. A creature like this had so much potential to just be innocent and sweet, like Apricot. But the Capitol had bastardized it, gamemakers slicing its DNA and combining it with that of a creature from a nightmare. It was the ultimate corruption of nature.

But their corruption wouldn't kill me today. Dom and I kept striking at it, our whips catching the light as they snap through the air. A dizzying array of attacks continue to hit their marks and, for a moment, I feel sorry for the creature. It could have had a nice life living in an ocean somewhere, but the Capitol felt the need to destroy what it could have been.

Now imagine what district eleven would be like if the Capitol hadn't corrupted it. Fields of wheat flowing in the wind, apricot trees free to be enjoyed by whoever wanted an apricot, and no peacekeepers forcing us into our homes, blaming us for explosions no one here could have caused. Nature's golden desserts, glistening in the sunlight, undisturbed by the Capitol's ever-present grip.

"Well Neysa, you’re one step closer to being an honorary career then."

We laugh, joking as we murder.

It just shows how numb we are. Born far apart but always present in the same sense of defeat. Death was inevitable, so was pain. That's what we were taught as kids. All because of the Capitol. Our lives are ruined, and I know mine will continue to be a sad, miserable one for however many days I'm left alive. But it's all for the future, all so that we can show everyone that they can survive without the Capitol.

"Shh, don't tell anyone about eleven's secret training camps. The Capitol doesn't want us to win." I grin, grasping the handle to my weapon again, and bringing it down against the muttation.

[attacks shirley with ice whip]
8WTReoFUBgwhip
[SHALLOW CUT ON RIGHT BICEP, +3.5 dmg]