from one liar to another {mauve/love} day 4

from one liar to another {mauve/love} day 4 Jul 21, 2021 8:53:04 GMT -5

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Post by max jones d6 ☠️ kiah on Jul 21, 2021 8:53:04 GMT -5

She burned with rage, her fists tight as she pushed through the shrubbery and rain. Boots squelched with each step, and she felt like she was on the verge of exploding. Seeing Bellamy's dead body had affected her more than she would have liked. Her twisted attachment to him causing her grip on her emotions to slip. Her bloodlust at an all time high, it had incinerated the high she had felt from Bubby's death.

Pushing past another tree she comes to a halt, immediately ducking behind it for cover when she see's Love Fucking Bellisario. She studies him from her position, his voice from the tape from the night before slipping through her mind on repeat.

She still wasn't quite sure what to make of the tape that he had sent her. Maybe it was some game to him, his words laced with feign exhaustion and strain. Another attempt at breaking through tributes guards in attempt to find a weakness to break down, to crush his victims fast with more ease. Though something told her as she listened that the weariness was not fabricated, but genuine.

I think we share some of the same pieces, but I don't know if they're good. I don't know if you know either...

Do you?

A frown tugs her brows together as she watches him, her teeth chewing on her lip. She knew that she should take advantage of a situation where she had managed to find the career on his own. No allies lingered around him, the perfect opportunity to execute a threat she wasn't sure that she would be able to defeat in the end.

He was right when he said that they shared the same pieces. But it was not her lack of humanity that might fail her if she was to face off against Love Fucking Bellisario. Simply it would be the fact that ultimately he was stronger than her. His whole life he had trained with the weapons that they had littered around the arena.

Mauve might be a skilled murder, but she lacked many skills that he would have honed over his lifetime.

But she wasn't sure that right now was the right time to find out whether she would survive a one on one with the district two career.

So instead of wielding a blade, she pulls out the severed ear she had in her fanny pack, wrapped with Bubby's sash.

"Love Bellisario," she calls as she steps out into the open, her weapon strapped to her side, she remains alert, careful eyes studying him. When she had told Six that Bubby was dead it had been a white lie to provoke the start of him unrevealing, but when she spills the lie about Liara's death to Love, it was an attempt to simply piss him off. "It would seem that Liara went and got herself impaled on the end of my weapon." She tosses Bubby's severed ear at his feet, her lips pulled back into a smirk, "sorry to report: Dead"

from one liar to another {mauve/love} day 4 Jul 22, 2021 18:34:03 GMT -5

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Post by pogue on Jul 22, 2021 18:34:03 GMT -5

L O V E

There are some evenings where he wanders out into the woods for his own selfish reasons, when the ghosts of Emerson and Chad come out to play and he sits in the silence that seeps from Julian and Waverly now that they've both carved a kill into their own broken legacies.

Or, on evenings like this, he just really really has to piss.

"Hold down the fort for a sec'. I need to piss like a racehorse." He mutters to Julian as he rises to his feet, met only with a nod and the same stoic silence that rests between the two of them. He squeezes the others hand in a feeling that he doesn't know is support or mockery, rubbing his thumb in a figure eight across the top of the other's hand before walking away, frown etched onto his face.

He's marking a territory that he'll never call his own when her voice rings out, breath catching in his throat and muscles tensing. He scans the tree lines, turning his head before he finally settles on the form of Mauve. His stomach flips and a scowl slips onto his face, born out of exhaustion and defeat and everything in between.

"It would seem that Liara went and got herself impaled on the end of my weapon." She says, holding in tight grasp a bloodied sash, red dripping out from the bottom and Love's expression remains carved in stone against his own will. Liara was someone mostly foreign to him, a girl he never really knew and would never truly know. But, she was home, she was Two-

Mauve knows this, too.

He arches an eyebrow, gaze going from Mauve's stare to the sash and back.

But she won't meet his gaze as he lingers just feet away, blue eyes piercing through her words and into her eyes, alternating between the bloodied sash she holds in wavering grasp and her stare. Mauve Morganstern was dangerous, was a liar, was someone who could hurt others in the span of a heartbeat.

She's a monster.
Just, so is he.

Because his Father taught him how to lie when he was a kid, embedded it into his mind over and over until he could slip words off of his tongue and not know if he was truly telling the truth or not. It was a blessing and a curse, as he'd come to find out.

"You want me to be heartbroken, Mauve." His voice comes out dry, raspy, exhausted- "But I don't get heartbroken over people I don't know."

A lie.

"We share the same pieces, Mauve, just like I said. I see right through you." He sighs as he finishes, yanking at the zipper on his pants before turning to face her, his hand wrapping around the bat and wrenching it from the bark of the tree. He holds it lazily at his side as he narrows his gaze, measuring the distance between them. Mauve was far enough away from him, for now at least.

"What can I help you with, Mauve?" He says, voice missing the distinct sarcastic wit he'd carried with him in the Training Center.