bloody soul, bloody soil [CF}
Jun 23, 2021 17:15:34 GMT -5
Post by pogue on Jun 23, 2021 17:15:34 GMT -5
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"Would have been nice to have some backup."
Love mutters the words out to a somber audience of two, their breaths silent and voices not to be found in the wake of Emerson's timely passing. Love breathes deep, mind focusing on pretending to be interested in their grief as he plays with a blade of grass in his fingertips, ripping it into smaller and smaller pieces before the breeze finally carries them from his grasp and back out to the arena. Areto had stormed through their ceremony, all anger and fury and sharpened gaze that could see right through his armor of smoke and mirrors. He hadn't even had time to cover his crotch before she'd pushed him back with a fist to the chest, soft lob more an angry warning than a threat. And what had his allies done? Cemented themselves in the grass and the daisies and simply let it happen without breaking their gaze. He'd dug himself out of a shallow grave all on his own, with no weapon and no help and it infuriated him to no end. Now there's clenched teeth behind sealed lips as he looks to Julian, chewing on his own words.
Maybe Emerson wouldn't have died if she'd had backup, he nearly says, but there's some salt that even a guy like him wouldn't pour on an open wound. At least, not yet. "I'm gonna go for a bit of a walk, monitor the wealth alliance."
He plants a kiss on Julian's cheek as he rises, but it's anything but kind. Quick, cold, toxic, a warning.
The bird camera the Gamemakers had sent to monitor them following his knife tricks had snatched the weapon from the camera as it'd flown away, in what he can only reason is penance for making the Capitol work for their cash. It leaves him open, defenseless, with nothing but curled fists and sharpened words to defend himself. He wanders the outskirts of the Cornucopia, cloaking himself in the shadows and training his gaze on the only remaining alliance left as they drive off a stumbling figure.
He sees the boy before the boy sees him, all licked lips and bared fangs and narrowed eyes as he watches Chad Chapman stumble away from the Bloodbath, carrying an air of idiocy and obliviousness that nearly leaves him breathless. Love had considered him as an ally in the training center for the span of a couple of heartbeats, until he'd heard the guy's voice break from his lips and had been left with a tilted head and raised eyebrow. If Love was playing the role of the fool then Chad Chapman was the person the movie was based on, "too kind for his own good", as his mentor had called him.
He curls diamond into his form as he readies himself, knuckles running white until they nearly poke through the smears of blood Emerson's corpse had left on him as a parting gift. His heartbeat rattles softly in his chest, gentle tremors a chorus to the silence he steeps himself in as Chad unknowingly makes his way towards him.
He pounces just as Chad's form enters his view from the tree he is hiding behind, a soft crunch of his footsteps all he heard before he slams his body into the boy from Five, sending them both sprawling to the ground with a loud thud. Leaves and brush spew out from underneath them as they fall, Love using Chad's body to break the impact and wasting no time in throwing his fist directly into Chad's cheek several times, red turning blue turning purple in the bruises when he finally stops and holds down his arms.
"Jules, Waverly! Get over here." He calls out to his allies, bloodlust seeping into his gaze as he stares down at Chad.
"Bring the knife."
Love mutters the words out to a somber audience of two, their breaths silent and voices not to be found in the wake of Emerson's timely passing. Love breathes deep, mind focusing on pretending to be interested in their grief as he plays with a blade of grass in his fingertips, ripping it into smaller and smaller pieces before the breeze finally carries them from his grasp and back out to the arena. Areto had stormed through their ceremony, all anger and fury and sharpened gaze that could see right through his armor of smoke and mirrors. He hadn't even had time to cover his crotch before she'd pushed him back with a fist to the chest, soft lob more an angry warning than a threat. And what had his allies done? Cemented themselves in the grass and the daisies and simply let it happen without breaking their gaze. He'd dug himself out of a shallow grave all on his own, with no weapon and no help and it infuriated him to no end. Now there's clenched teeth behind sealed lips as he looks to Julian, chewing on his own words.
Maybe Emerson wouldn't have died if she'd had backup, he nearly says, but there's some salt that even a guy like him wouldn't pour on an open wound. At least, not yet. "I'm gonna go for a bit of a walk, monitor the wealth alliance."
He plants a kiss on Julian's cheek as he rises, but it's anything but kind. Quick, cold, toxic, a warning.
The bird camera the Gamemakers had sent to monitor them following his knife tricks had snatched the weapon from the camera as it'd flown away, in what he can only reason is penance for making the Capitol work for their cash. It leaves him open, defenseless, with nothing but curled fists and sharpened words to defend himself. He wanders the outskirts of the Cornucopia, cloaking himself in the shadows and training his gaze on the only remaining alliance left as they drive off a stumbling figure.
He sees the boy before the boy sees him, all licked lips and bared fangs and narrowed eyes as he watches Chad Chapman stumble away from the Bloodbath, carrying an air of idiocy and obliviousness that nearly leaves him breathless. Love had considered him as an ally in the training center for the span of a couple of heartbeats, until he'd heard the guy's voice break from his lips and had been left with a tilted head and raised eyebrow. If Love was playing the role of the fool then Chad Chapman was the person the movie was based on, "too kind for his own good", as his mentor had called him.
He curls diamond into his form as he readies himself, knuckles running white until they nearly poke through the smears of blood Emerson's corpse had left on him as a parting gift. His heartbeat rattles softly in his chest, gentle tremors a chorus to the silence he steeps himself in as Chad unknowingly makes his way towards him.
He pounces just as Chad's form enters his view from the tree he is hiding behind, a soft crunch of his footsteps all he heard before he slams his body into the boy from Five, sending them both sprawling to the ground with a loud thud. Leaves and brush spew out from underneath them as they fall, Love using Chad's body to break the impact and wasting no time in throwing his fist directly into Chad's cheek several times, red turning blue turning purple in the bruises when he finally stops and holds down his arms.
"Jules, Waverly! Get over here." He calls out to his allies, bloodlust seeping into his gaze as he stares down at Chad.
"Bring the knife."
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