through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas}

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Just text and tables

through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas} Mar 27, 2021 13:47:52 GMT -5

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Post by grant on Mar 27, 2021 13:47:52 GMT -5

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Benedict's blood still litters the boys hands whether he could see it or not, as he dragged his spear along the ground. The haze had torn him and his ally apart, and the wounds continue to tear on his psyche. Some sick internal clock of his tells him that he is half way to the end, but likely not half way to his own end.

Walking into the thick flames that surrounded him, his sweat peels out what little what he has left in his system. He'd been up most of the night vomiting up the rest. It was the injuries, he'd thought. Now though, he knows that it is the very air that he has been fighting against this entire time.

He sees something in the distance. Somebody else on the fire walk. The rubber scent almost impacts his eyes, but he narrows them to see that it is Nanette. It's the only other living tribute that he knew of. When they did talk, it was of combat. It was each of them trying to prove that they were the better fighter. Maybe it's time to see what happens when that is put to the test.

"Hey, four!" he calls out to her among the fire and flames. "Lets see if you really are a fisherman or a warrior."

He rotates the spear between his fingers in the same way he had in the training centre, and he makes his strike with fatal intent.

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[Garrison attacks Nanette with Spear]

RJZ|MZRKkPspear

3170 -- Shallow Cut on Right Calf -- 3.5 damage
(Spear)spear

Last Edit: Mar 27, 2021 13:48:39 GMT -5 by grant

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through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas} Mar 27, 2021 19:28:52 GMT -5

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Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Mar 27, 2021 19:28:52 GMT -5

► ► ►

He sews his own neck shut.

It's difficult without a reflection to see if he's got the right spot and it feels like every other stroke, he shoves the needle in too deep. Every move aches enough that Sin bites his lip to keep from crying out. He doesn't want to alert Castor to just how injured he is, he doesn't want Castor to worry about him. By the time he's done though, he's got more holes in him than when he started.

The wounds in his stomach are easier to deal with, sewing them up is simple, it's just the pain that burns him, curdles his insides until there's nothing left.

Blood oozes still from between his neat little stitches and it's when the fire is burning at their feet in the night that he gets the idea.

The head of a spear is more than wide enough to do the job and Sin sits in nervous silence as he heats it in the flames. Castor talks slowly beside him, telling a story about something his brother and him did. Sin thinks about having a brother, a real one, that loves him.

Maybe Nico is sort of that, or could have been. But then he probably never would have met Nico if he hadn't been reaped anyway.

When the spearhead is glowing red, Sin picks it up a little ways down the pole and before he can second guess himself, he takes it and presses the hot metal against the first hole in his stomach.

A cry of pain works past his grit teeth and he drops the spear, it falls to the dirt in front of him. Sin doubles over, the burning on his stomach almost too much to bear. It was meant to be easier than that; he'd watched Eirlys do it so many times and of course, it'd made the patient scream.

But Sin didn't know that.

He reaches out with shaky hands and takes one of Castor's in both before pressing his forehead to his. He's shaky, overtired. It's been days since he's actually slept, days since he can remember feeling truly rested.

The anthem hasn't even played yet when Sin's eyes fall shut and he tips into Castor.

It's hours later when he wakes up again. The sun has yet to rise and the fire that they built last night for warmth is in embers. Castor's arms are around him and when he wiggles out of the other boy's grasp, there's muffled complaint before Castor rolls over and falls back into sleep.

Sin's mind is racing, something woke him up and he tries to remember if he was having the dream. It's hard though, hard to think of anything. He holds the back of his hand against his forehead, testing for fever but it feels fine. Maybe his skin is too hot for him to tell.

If the tributes don't get them then the arena will.

He reaches intohis pack to find more of that salve that they picked up to soothe his wounds, but his attention is caught instead by the phone. It's blinking again, a single button lit up on the little dash. It's the one for the voice messages.

It was going off yesterday too but he forgot about it, or maybe a part of him ignored it. Thinking about Lore, knowing that he's probably never going to see her again is hard. Trusting her is even harder. Sin hasn't forgotten the way that she was looking at him after his bullet found Kane.

He stands on shaky legs, going a little ways off in order to check the message without waking Castor up. Part of him doesn't want Castor to hear it. He doesn't quite know how to pinpoint what he's feeling but trust has never been easy for Sin.

Sin walks until Castor is still in sight and then finally clicks the button that Syren showed him so he can play the message.

"Yo Siiiiin, how you been holding up bu- buddy?" asks Nan and Sin tears up immediately. "Can ya believe it! Itsah been four days and still haven't seen your face around!"

He's grateful for that, happy that he doesn't have to sit there and shoot at a friend yet. He's not seen hide nor hair of Fridae or Saylor yet either and part of him knows that with all the cannonfire yesterday, it's likely he's lost them already. It's good to know that Nanette, his rooftop buddy, is still kicking.

The rest of the message is nonsensical but comforting anyway and he plays it through one more time before finding somewhere to pee.

Waking Cas up is hard, it'd be nice to let him sleep but they have to keep moving on. he shakes him gently at first and then tugs on his hands in an effort to get him moving. Sin presses his fingers into his wrists, three times, come on.

They walk in the direction Sin think might be north, but smog still hangs low from yesterday's fire and he can't pinpoint the sun from their place on the ground.

Avoidance still seems like the best option and so when Sin sees movement ahead, he tugs Castor down quickly behind a mound of tires. Sin's heartbeat rises and he squints, trying to figure out whose out there. At this point, most everyone is a foe anyway.

Nan.

A jolt flies through him at the sight of her and Sin stands, tears forming again behind his eyes in relief. He knows that she's still an enemy, that one night on the roof doesn't change anything, but maybe she wouldn't mind taking on Castor.

Because Sin is dying, he knows that cauterizing the wound only slowed that down. He can't trust himself to protect Castor anymore, he can't even trust himself to take care of himself.

He steps forward a little and that's when he sees the other career's arrival out of the smog. Garrison, district Two.

Sin pauses, knowing a blind boy from five and a mute from twelve are no match for two careers. It'd be better for Nan to team up with Garrison to take out both him and Cas, two easy targets before they rounded on each other.

But he can't help but think, in his silly, boyish way, that Nanette is his friend.

So when Garrison goes for Nanette, Sin doesn't really think twice, not for his rooftop girl.

He drops his pile of spears in the dirt in front of him and takes the jar full of tar from his bag. Castor is asking questions beside him but Sin has no time to answer, not in the moment. He scratches a match across the box and drops it on the spearheads, where they burn at his feet.

Then he raises one over his head and tosses it as hard as he can at Garrison.

[sin uses tar to light 4 javelins]
sin attacks garrison with javelin
n7vrac3emIjavelin

[fire roll]
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javelin·1-50

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through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas} Mar 28, 2021 20:08:07 GMT -5

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Post by calla on Mar 28, 2021 20:08:07 GMT -5

► ► ►

Castor had cried himself to sleep, eventually. He'd clung to Sin and sobbed until his throat stung and his lungs hurt, held a piece of the broken radio in his fist until it cut into his palm.

There was a guilt buried deep in his chest, tucked against the bullets there, and when Sin had helped dig the bullets out, the guilt stayed. He'd felt so stupid sitting there bawling from the pain and from the weight of everything. He couldn't even tell how badly Sin was hurting, and when the other boy had pulled away to patch himself back up, Cas had whined and childishly tugged him back.

Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment, not when it was just the two of them sitting together in the smog. Cas had fallen asleep clutching Sin's hand and tried not to feel selfish about it.

The bugle call jolts him awake, but it takes him time to actually be able to move in the morning. Cas can feel Sin pulling at his hands but his head is fogged over and his body is so sore. It's like everything had disappeared during the night and then came back tenfold when he tried to sit up. The sudden movement makes him dizzy and he almost tips back over again, hand on Sin's forearm as he tries not to vomit.

Even when he eventually does stand up, the air feels heavy. It feels like a physical weight pulling his limbs down and sticks to him through the humidity. Something near his ear starts beeping, soft enough that it can't be real but loud enough to be distracting. And Cas knows that if it was something, that Sin would be pulling them away from it.

He isn't sure why he trusts Sin so wholeheartedly. It must just be because he's used to it. Cas had spent his whole life relying on other people, even before the blindness. He had his parents and his brother and the doctors, and they'd all expected him to stand down and let himself be taken care of. There was a kind of helplessness that came with it, but there was security too.

So even now, even after yesterday, he holds Sin's hand and lets himself be led. He loses track of how long they walk for, startling back when Sin pulls him down. But he doesn't cry out this time, and he holds his tongue instead of asking what's happening.

It's when Sin's hand drifts away and Cas hears the clattering of weapons falling to the ground that he gives in. He whispers to Sin, tries to ask him what's going on even though he knows he won't get an answer. And that's okay, because a voice comes from across the darkness then, taunting someone it calls Four, and it makes Castor's blood run cold.

He can't remember the names of the tributes from Four, but hearing that - it means there's a career here. And he has a unique track record with careers.

The cannon that shakes the earth then seems too quick, quick enough to be from someone who's trained for this. He scrambles for Sin, searching for him in a quick panic because that was too fast.

"Sin?" His hands find something solid and alive and he almost starts crying again.

But with the cannon not being for Sin, it presents another problem.

"Who's there?"

Last Edit: Mar 28, 2021 20:08:27 GMT -5 by calla

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through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas} Mar 28, 2021 21:45:36 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Mar 28, 2021 21:45:36 GMT -5

"You're wrong."

I'm unraveling, I try to hold myself together, but I'm slipping.

"I'm nothing like you!"

Hard eyes, words thrown like knives ripping into my flesh.

He had looked at me with such hate, like I was the monster- and maybe I was. I was supposed to be, wasn't I? The armour I had wrapped around myself had had the face of a monster. A cold hearted bitch. I was supposed to want him to look at me like I had no humanity. It was supposed to make it easier. Hurt less.

I sit on the ground, arms protectively wrapped around myself as though it could protect me from my thoughts, from the words that bounce wildly around my mind. The bullet hole on my neck is agonising, intensifying with each breath. I thought I had known physical pain. How many times had I broke a bone? How many times had a sword or some other blade slip, slicing open the flesh of my arms, legs, hip or torso? But this pain was new, different and it hurt like a god damned bitch.

Flynn... Do you think that I am a monster? I had asked, voice small, broken. “You are not a monster Nan. Nobody here is we are just trying to survive-"

"But why- why did he look at me like I was the monster when his ally is the one who stabbed him in the heart." My voice breaks, barely louder than a whisper I spoke to the ground, tears in my eyes I hug myself tighter. My lower lip trembles as I fight off the urge to cry out in pain, in frustration in exhaustion.

I was so tired.

Taking a deep breath I give myself a mental shake. I hated feeling so weak, so vulnerable. "Sorry, I'm fine." I lie, pushing everything into a box and filing it away into the back of my mind. I label it NO NOT OPEN.

"I'm gonna need a hand with this bullet hole on my neck, do you mind?" Flynn moves to sit beside me, a hand of comfort pressed against my back. “He was so close to death, he probably didn’t know what he was seeing.” I wonder what it looked like to the people at home, to watch as a thirteen year old comforted an adult as they struggled to hold themselves together. It was as though the roles had flipped from the night before. I give him a tight nod, forcing my lips into a tight smile, trying to reassure him that I was fine.

Carefully I unwrap my protective hold on myself, fishing for the needle and thread that he had asked for. "Here," I hand him it with blood covered fingers, swallowing hard as I moved to give him easier access to my neck. "Look, I'm gonna try to stay as still as possible, it doesn't have to be neat, but try and make it quick." I pause for a moment, taking a deep breath, "give me a distraction. Tell me something."

He takes the needle, pressing the tip against the jagged flesh of my neck, “I will try and be steady but dehydration is getting me. It’ll be the third day tomorrow, they better deliver us something ice cold fresh.” He presses in slowly and I hand to shove my fist into my mouth to stop me from crying out, my eyes crinkling with pain. "I think I don’t want to be a surgeon like my parents. They are both general surgeons. Still a doctor but stuff like this. An emergency doctor. What about you?”

I pant through the pain, dropping my fist from my lips, "consider this practice then," my teeth are clenched, my hands squeezed into tight fists. "I- I don't know what I want to do." I grunt ad the thread slides through my flesh, gentling pulling the gash closed. "As a career you don't think much past the age of eighteen till you have too." The needle dig into my flesh again, "fuck," I gasp, "a marine biologist," I breathe, a tight smile on my lips. "Like mum. Have you ever seen the ocean?"

“No I have never seen it. The biggest water I have seen was that stinky lake from a few days ago.”

"If you win this, go. It's beautifully dangerous." I close my eyes and I can see its rippling surface, expanding into the horizon. "In the summer, the waters are crystal clear, and then when the sunsets the colours reflect off the surface, and it's truely something else." Flynn finishes off the stitch, pulling away. "Then you dip your head under the waves and it's like a whole new world opens up to you." This time when I smile, it is genuine as memories of home wash over me.

“Have you ever thought what must be beyond the ocean?”

I turn to Flynn, eyes thoughtful. "I often think that there has to be something more, right?" My head tilts to the side slightly, contemplating. "Maybe there is some other sort of civilisation... One where you don't have to live life constantly looking over your shoulder. What do you think is out there?" Maybe it was naive to think that there were others out there, but surely there had to be something more, better.

“If there is another civilisation, why haven’t they come and rescued us yet?” Flynn voices my fears and I shrug at him, "more wishful thinking on my behalf." Maybe we didn't deserve saving. "Get some sleep, I'll take the first watch." I shuffle through my bag, pulling out some bandages to wrap around my chest. "Goodnight, Flynn."

* * *

I wake to a blanket of smoke. Shrugging it off I climb to my feet, rummaging through my pack, "hey, Flynn, do you wave anything to eat other than salty ass fish?" I wait for his reply, grumbling to myself. Flynn doesn't respond and I feel the start of panic begin to wash over me. "Flynn, you there?" Forgetting about food I look around, shrugging my pack onto my shoulder. Where the hell was he? Heart racing, I look around my frantically, the hairs on the back of my neck raising. "Flynn what the hell. This isn't funny." I move through the smog a little, waiting for him appear from its depths. But he doesn't.

I was alone.

Had he run with the cover of darkness and thick layer of smoke? Had he been scared that I would do what Silk did to Saylor? He had told me that I wasn't a monster last night, he had comforted me and stayed, lying down beside me. I had watched him drift off, he had looked so innocent. So young, so vulnerable under the spell of sleep. He wouldn't have left, he wouldn't have run, not without saying goodbye-

A canon fires, slamming into me violently. No!

"Flynn! Flynn!"

Please don't let it be him. I run through the smoke, desperate to see him, desperate to know that the canon that had fired hadn't belonged to him. Please don't let it belong to him. "Flynn, please."

I am running, panic making everything a blur around me. Then in the distance I see a figure, and my heart stops in my chest. Flynn. But as I near it morphs into the boy from two, spear twirling casually between his fingers. Piles of burning heaps surround us, the smoke thick in the air, in my lungs. My head spun and my lungs burned.

"Hey, four!" He calls casually, like greeting me on a crowded train platform, not the burning pits of hell. "Lets see if you really are a fisherman or a warrior." He lunges, and I barely move quick enough, the top of his spear eating into the flesh of my calf. Cursing I fling my shotgun onto my shoulder, aiming it at the boys heart. "Try that again-"

A spear buries itself into his eye socket.

Fuck.

Whipping around I aim the barrel of my gun at the boy who had thrown it only for it to drop a heartbeat later.

"Sin..." Relief surges through me, and my legs turn shaky. I don't know why I feel safe enough to lower my weapon, eyes searching his own tear filled ones. I should be fearful of him. He was an enemy, one that had just skewered the boy from two right through the eye... It was naive of me, I knew it, but I didn't think he would harm me. Not yet. "You're alive." I look back over my shoulder at the crumpled boy of Garrison Basalt. Questions danced on my lips, but hold them back, my eyes turning to examine his companion.

I didn't know him, the number five stitched onto his uniform. He asks whose there and my brows furrow in confusion. What did he mean whose there? Couldn't he see me? I had heard rumours back in the training center about a boy who was blind... But I hadn't thought them to be true. But here he was, standing before me, hand clinging to Sin.

How had he made it this far?

Was Sin the reason?

Garrisons canon sounds and instantly my thoughts a frantic. "Have you seen a boy? Flynn Garner, district six." I look around us, shotgun still gasped tightly, barrel aimed at the dirt. "He was with me last night... But," my voice breaks as I imagine Flynns broken body discarded on the ground, eyes lifelessly staring into the sky. I didn't get to say goodbye. "He was gone this morning." I turn towards the boy from five, "Nanette Carter. District Four- don't worry, your safe for now. Just- have you seen the boy- well, um maybe not seen as you are, well, you know," I am rambling awkwardly. I clear my throat. Of course he hadn't seen him. "Sin?"

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through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas} Mar 30, 2021 1:06:27 GMT -5

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Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Mar 30, 2021 1:06:27 GMT -5

► ► ►

Sin watches the spear as it flies, a hand still raised in front of him. There's a moment in its arc where it seems to pause. The sun catches the burning flame, striking right through it and Sin releases a breathe as it starts its descent.

He watches its projection, unflinching as it finds its target in the ground, Garrison's eye just a waypoint on its trajectory. Sin doesn't take his eyes off the boy from Two as his body comes to the slow realization that it is no longer viable.

There is hardly anything in him anymore, every time he kills there is a little bit less. He watches as Garrison's body falls, stays wooden even as Nanette points her gun at him. She can try to kill him if she wants to. It won't make Garrison any less dead.

And he just feels kind of numb.

Sin threw to kill, but he still flinches a little bit when the cannon booms, too close for comfort. It sends all of their seelies spinning in the air above their heads, all chirping as if to mourn the death of Garrison Basalt.

Castor's hands find him and Sin feels warmth there, in the spots that their skin touches but everything else is cold. He can't stop looking at Garrison's body, at the pieces of him that once made him move and now don't do anything at all. It's nothing new for him, he should be fine.

And maybe that's what feels funny, the realization that he's not, that he never was. He mirror's Nan's expression like a child learning how to properly react to a situation. It leaves a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach and he understands for a brief moment why it hurt when Lore and Syren looked at him like he wasn't Sin, but a monster in a human skin.

Sin pulls Castor close and drapes himself over the other boy like a protective blanket. Wordless, as always, he rests his chin on his shoulder. It's easy like this, Castor can't see what a monster he is. Castor doesn't know that he's a killer, that he burns himself deeper into the ground with every step he takes and one day, he'll wake up in hell and Sin won't even be surprised.

Because he's not just the Mortuus hammer, he knows that now, he's the boy that weilds it.

It makes sense that only a blind boy would find him bearable. With their communication method so rudimentary, Castor barely knows him. If Sin could speak, things would be different, he's certain of that.

He'd find a way to ruin things. It's like what Eirlys always said, he shouldn't be seen, shouldn't be heard either. Ever since coming here, since killing that mutt what feels like ages ago now, since the girls started seeing him for what he is, he's felt wrong.

Kind of like a snake in a koi pond.

He can't let go of Castor though. For once in his life, Sin's chosen selfishness but he wants to die knowing what it feels like to matter to someone else. He's already headed straight to hell anyway, one beautiful lie can't hurt.

So when Castor asks his questions, Sin stares at Nanette and then at Garrison's body.

No.

He shakes his head slightly.

But he's safe, Nan isn't interested in anything but finding Flynn. They've not seen anyone but her and Garrison since leaving Kyler behind in the smog though. He wraps a hand around Castor's wrist and presses once. No.

They hadn't seen him, probably never will.

Sorry, Nanette, but we're all in mourning here.

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through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas} Mar 31, 2021 0:45:30 GMT -5

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Post by calla on Mar 31, 2021 0:45:30 GMT -5

► ► ►

He tenses at the voice, fingers curling around his revolver, but he stills at the sudden warmth at his back. Sin's breath puffs against the side of Castor's face and Cas reaches around to find the back of the other boys neck, his fingers brushing against his nape.

Sin's hackles aren't raised. Cas lets himself breathe.

"Nanette." He repeats, testing the name out, "You know each other?"

He assumes that the first voice, the one that had bantered, is her ally, but Cas doesn't hear him speak up when she does. The strong silent type maybe, but Sin doesn't seem on edge. He doesn't seem tensed and ready for a fight like he was before. And that's good enough for Castor.

He doesn't have time to process the pit in his stomach, because the way Nanette speaks, against all odds, makes him laugh. The adrenaline of the situation makes him giddy and he buries his face in Sin's shoulder to smother a giggle.

Maybe it's hysteria. Maybe it's just the feeling of being able to talk with someone again. It makes a little part inside of him shatter. He likes talking to Sin, but most of the time it's just him talking at Sin. Sometimes Castor's own voice is too loud in his ears, and he'll speak in circles just because he can't tell if the silence is worse. The radio is broken now anyways, so it's not like he can drown it out with that. It's easier to just run his thumb across Sin's knuckles and ramble on about something from his life.

It makes him homesick sometimes, telling stories about his brother and his home and his passions, but it makes him feel authentic. He feels like his own person, and not just another number on a clinic record.

So hearing someone else's voice is grounding, in a way, but when he thinks about Nanette's question, his mind sticks on Six.

Syren's district.

Castor wasn't exactly close with Sutton, if anything he was slightly afraid of her, but there has to be some sort of allyship between district partners, right? If Nanette knows Flynn, and Flynn knows Syren, then there's a chance that Nanette knows Syren. Or knew Syren.

But for all he knows, that boy from yesterday could've been Flynn. They could've walked right by him and Cas wouldn't have known. He waits for Sin, and then shifts when he feels the fingers against his wrist.

"No." He repeats, poking Sin back, "We haven't, sorry."

And maybe it's a long shot, but he doesn't trust the boy that tried to break his heart the day before. The day Syren and Lore had gone missing, Cas had done his best to ignore the cannons and the anthem swells. Sin had tried to follow through with their daily routine, the one where he'd try to communicate how many faces he saw in the sky, but Cas had pulled away and shook his head and petulantly tried to think about something else.

There was denial there and there's denial here.

It makes him stubborn.

"His district partner - Syren - have you seen her? Was she with you two?" He laces his fingers with Sin's and tries not to sound desperate, "Is she still alive?"

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through the fire and flames {Garri vs Nanette vs Sin & Cas} Mar 31, 2021 7:12:42 GMT -5

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Post by lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah on Mar 31, 2021 7:12:42 GMT -5

I watch as Sin drapes himself over the other boy, watch as they both seemed to relax into each other, relying on every touch. Fives hand runs up over Sin's shoulders and it's not until he feels the lack of tension on them that he seems to take a breath, his finger relaxing against the trigger of there revolver clutched between desperate hands. As I watch them, there closeness, I begin to wonder what it would have been like for them over the last few days, a blind kid and a mute boy. How did they communicate? How was it they seemed so safe in each others touch?

How terrifying it must be to not be able to see what's going around you, having to rely on another person to help you through. There had to be trust between them, there had to be. Trust that would have to be broken within the next day or so. After all there couldn't be two winners. A betrayal was imminent.

Sin shakes his head, and the hope that had begun to rise comes crashing back down to earth, leaving me empty and with the realisation that I alone. Alone and terrified. I had become so used to seeing the boy beside me, knowing that he would be there, a support I hadn't realised I needed. And as much as I didn't want to see his face light up the night sky, I was torn. Maybe seeing his face up their would be a blessing in disguise. Maybe I wouldn't have to be the one to rip out his heart, watch the life fade from his eyes... Because if it came down to it I didn't know if I could do it. Could I kill him if I had no other choice?

Could I kill the boy who I had come to care for?

And if I wasn't a monster now, I knew the moment my spear pierced his heart that I would be.

"You know each other?" The boy asks, and I give Sin a small knowing smile, "you could say that." I didn't know next to nothing about the boy from Twelve, but he had listened to my drunken rambling on that rooftop. Him and Flynn were the only ones I had opened up to about my family, about my mother, and the drive behind my fight.

I didn't know what it was about him, but I had come to care somewhat about his welfare, his gentle touch as he pulled the bottle of champagne from my hands had been a touch of comfort. And even though the body behind me told me that I should be alert, I remembered the gentle brush of his fingertips, of the way he hand looked at me as though he understood at some personal sort of level the pain that I was going through... and I guess I didn't see a monster. As Flynn had told me last night, I see a boy who was trying to survive. Like the rest of us.

Five confirms that they had not seen Flynn, and I left out a heavy sigh, running a hand through tangled blonde hair. My head pounded, and the gash on my neck ached. I touch it gently, a hiss of pain escaping my lips. I had no doubt that within the next day or so that it would be oozing with infection.

"His district partner - Syren - have you seen her? Was she with you two?" Syren. Syren. I did not know the name, Flynn had not mentioned her but if I remembered correctly her face shimmering in the night sky the same night Revan had looked down at me. "Is she still alive?" A frown knits my brows as I study his face, I can see the look of hope that lingered. Hesitantly my eyes meet Sin's, hadn't he seen her face in the sky? Had he not been able to tell his friend that she had died?

"I- no, she isn't with us. I haven't seen her at all... but..." For some reason I hesitated, not wanting to he the bearer of bad news, knowing that the minute the words slips past my lips his face would fall. Another lost friend. "I'm sorry, but she's dead." I take a deep breath, "she was in the anthem a couple nights ago. I don't know what happened to her, or how she died. I am sorry." My words simply state facts, lacking the warmth. I don't try to comfort him any further, mentally and physically I was exhausted.

I needed to find Flynn. Dead or alive I needed to find him. To say goodbye because I'd be damned if another one of the people I cared about was taken from me without the chance of saying sorry. Sorry that I was not strong enough to save them. Sorry that I didn't protect them. Sorry that I didn't say goodbye-

I was so damned sick of saying goodbye.

Tears of frustration fill my eyes as I drop to the ground, hugging my knees, my body aching from the toxins of the arena, of the holes ripped into my body by Saylor's bullets. Once again my eyes travel to Garrisons body. "I guess in a matter of days most of us will be like garrison and your friend Syren: dead."