bury all we have; nc vs as vs mg [day 2]
Feb 18, 2018 8:20:52 GMT -5
Post by D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza] on Feb 18, 2018 8:20:52 GMT -5
VESPER DAISY
World of frost; I am a child of the cold.
We collect again, not four but only the three of us -- it still feels like a piece of the puzzle is missing and the picture will never be complete. I sigh a little; there isn't even any love to bind us together anymore. Friendship, perhaps, but nothing compares to a heart laid bare, open and vulnerable, exposed and strong despite being perceived as immediately weak. Love is what we need, I suppose, to keep ourselves going and when there is none, we are done.
Fin begins to build a fire, logs on logs on logs and I hope he has it in him to set it aflame.
"Fin, be careful about the wet logs! Any smoke rising above the trees will make us visible for miles. We're gonna have to stay vigilant for the night if we want to stay warm and stay alive." Stella says, a spark leaping into the mass of logs as she concludes. But the key of her words lies in the final few: stay alive. If any words of advice were simple but held enough impact to wreck havoc, it would be these. Staying alive seems easy in practice, I think, I mean - you only need to keep breathing.
But given the circumstances, given the odds which increasingly grow as the sun sets, you never know when one breath might be your last. A breath is human nature, but it takes someone who is losing just that to take it away.
"Please can you help me find some dry ones? We could melt the snow for water."
"Or we could eat it." I say, one eye closed as I inspect the ends of the crampons. "As long as it isn't, you know, yellow."
"Don't be silly Piper... sorry, Vesper."
I roll my eyes. I should let it go and blame it on his longing for home; we're all feeling the same way but show it in different ways.
I wonder if the people back in Six look at Aeson and I and think we embody what it takes to be from Six; intelligent perhaps, maybe a little rough around the edges but I'm certain they'll recognise that we're just like them. Real people, real problems. I'm not going to forget that Six is my home, I'm not going to forget that those that live there have all become a part of my soul whether they like it or not because that is what will spur me on when things get tough, and when the weight of the world becomes too much for any girl of any stature to cope with.
A fire is lit, snow is melted and we see in the night thirsty for warmth. Like moths drawn to a flame, we wrap up and huddle around trying to stop the cold from biting. Snowflakes have big teeth, sharp claws and a sting if you let them get too close -- I think if Amelina was still alive, she would know that now.
So we curl up. Eyes staring up and out as the faces begin to freeze over the night-sky. Hurt and heartbreak; a memory of how strong I can be is quickly mirrored by a story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I frown. Ale didn't need to die, Ale didn't even deserve to die and I feel like the same can be said for me. But I don't want to write the stars and tempt fate, after all, I'm supposed to be making history and people who make history definitely don't think about how they might follow in the same footsteps of a dead ally.
In the morning, the sun starts to melt the snow on tall blades of grass. I wake up quickly, weary of my surroundings and yes, I'm pretty certain that I am still alive and haven't been brutally murdered overnight by some sort of mutt, or some sort of tribute parading around as something as fearless as a mutt.
We get up, get on and make way for whatever lies ahead. As we walk further from the trees, we find ourselves in a meadow, flowers all around and it reminds me that the little things are often the best. Just like Dad's shoddy old, cheap old chandelier, it reminds me that you don't need money to have the finer things in life. You just need to be alive.
Figures on the horizon, I take a breath.
"Special delivery from your secret admirer!" A voice calls out to Stella, and I pause for a second, I pause and think because I'm pretty sure that I know that voice and have lived in the Capitol with such a voice. In the same apartment, even. Aeson?
He and his allies emerge from the distance: I count four in my head and realise that this doesn't need for one of us to end up dead. I find myself holding hope in home, Six, Aeson, and praying that Teddy Ursa instilled some common sense into us both before we entered this hell.
"Aeson! I'm so glad to see--" I shout, a sense of desperation but glee in my voice. Familiarity in the calamity, but then it dawns on me, and I gulp. He is the one who threw sticks and stones in the bloodbath; names will never hurt me, nah, not me because I can say much worse if I wanted to, but when a boy attacks -- when he gashes and lashes, I cannot help but feel the pain.
And it is only elevated by the source. Aeson is supposed to be the only thing in this arena reminding me of home, but in him, I don't see Six. I see ego. I see fire blue and I don't like it; you'd think that there would be unwritten rules about the ones who are held close to our hearts but alas, if Aeson is the brute he is proving to be, then I'm going to have to be too.
"Nevermind. I just remembered something."
And so Aeson shoves a pole into my stomach, thankfully it is reflected by my armour but still, the impact is enough to knock my confidence.
"Vespser," Stella wheezes and I can't tell if she's worried or scared or relieved or anything in between. I can't blame her no matter what the point is -- this is a game of survival, and to win, you have to play.
"Turns out you are just like the rest, Aeson."
And then the other boy cuts against me. But I don't feel the hurt as much -- better to have enemy who slaps you in the face than a friend who stabs you in the back.
But I know better. I don't lose a friend in Aeson, nah, I just realise I never had one.
"Home is where the heart is, but your heart isn't in Six. It's in murder."
We collect again, not four but only the three of us -- it still feels like a piece of the puzzle is missing and the picture will never be complete. I sigh a little; there isn't even any love to bind us together anymore. Friendship, perhaps, but nothing compares to a heart laid bare, open and vulnerable, exposed and strong despite being perceived as immediately weak. Love is what we need, I suppose, to keep ourselves going and when there is none, we are done.
Fin begins to build a fire, logs on logs on logs and I hope he has it in him to set it aflame.
"Fin, be careful about the wet logs! Any smoke rising above the trees will make us visible for miles. We're gonna have to stay vigilant for the night if we want to stay warm and stay alive." Stella says, a spark leaping into the mass of logs as she concludes. But the key of her words lies in the final few: stay alive. If any words of advice were simple but held enough impact to wreck havoc, it would be these. Staying alive seems easy in practice, I think, I mean - you only need to keep breathing.
But given the circumstances, given the odds which increasingly grow as the sun sets, you never know when one breath might be your last. A breath is human nature, but it takes someone who is losing just that to take it away.
"Please can you help me find some dry ones? We could melt the snow for water."
"Or we could eat it." I say, one eye closed as I inspect the ends of the crampons. "As long as it isn't, you know, yellow."
"Don't be silly Piper... sorry, Vesper."
I roll my eyes. I should let it go and blame it on his longing for home; we're all feeling the same way but show it in different ways.
I wonder if the people back in Six look at Aeson and I and think we embody what it takes to be from Six; intelligent perhaps, maybe a little rough around the edges but I'm certain they'll recognise that we're just like them. Real people, real problems. I'm not going to forget that Six is my home, I'm not going to forget that those that live there have all become a part of my soul whether they like it or not because that is what will spur me on when things get tough, and when the weight of the world becomes too much for any girl of any stature to cope with.
A fire is lit, snow is melted and we see in the night thirsty for warmth. Like moths drawn to a flame, we wrap up and huddle around trying to stop the cold from biting. Snowflakes have big teeth, sharp claws and a sting if you let them get too close -- I think if Amelina was still alive, she would know that now.
So we curl up. Eyes staring up and out as the faces begin to freeze over the night-sky. Hurt and heartbreak; a memory of how strong I can be is quickly mirrored by a story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I frown. Ale didn't need to die, Ale didn't even deserve to die and I feel like the same can be said for me. But I don't want to write the stars and tempt fate, after all, I'm supposed to be making history and people who make history definitely don't think about how they might follow in the same footsteps of a dead ally.
In the morning, the sun starts to melt the snow on tall blades of grass. I wake up quickly, weary of my surroundings and yes, I'm pretty certain that I am still alive and haven't been brutally murdered overnight by some sort of mutt, or some sort of tribute parading around as something as fearless as a mutt.
We get up, get on and make way for whatever lies ahead. As we walk further from the trees, we find ourselves in a meadow, flowers all around and it reminds me that the little things are often the best. Just like Dad's shoddy old, cheap old chandelier, it reminds me that you don't need money to have the finer things in life. You just need to be alive.
Figures on the horizon, I take a breath.
"Special delivery from your secret admirer!" A voice calls out to Stella, and I pause for a second, I pause and think because I'm pretty sure that I know that voice and have lived in the Capitol with such a voice. In the same apartment, even. Aeson?
He and his allies emerge from the distance: I count four in my head and realise that this doesn't need for one of us to end up dead. I find myself holding hope in home, Six, Aeson, and praying that Teddy Ursa instilled some common sense into us both before we entered this hell.
"Aeson! I'm so glad to see--" I shout, a sense of desperation but glee in my voice. Familiarity in the calamity, but then it dawns on me, and I gulp. He is the one who threw sticks and stones in the bloodbath; names will never hurt me, nah, not me because I can say much worse if I wanted to, but when a boy attacks -- when he gashes and lashes, I cannot help but feel the pain.
And it is only elevated by the source. Aeson is supposed to be the only thing in this arena reminding me of home, but in him, I don't see Six. I see ego. I see fire blue and I don't like it; you'd think that there would be unwritten rules about the ones who are held close to our hearts but alas, if Aeson is the brute he is proving to be, then I'm going to have to be too.
"Nevermind. I just remembered something."
And so Aeson shoves a pole into my stomach, thankfully it is reflected by my armour but still, the impact is enough to knock my confidence.
"Vespser," Stella wheezes and I can't tell if she's worried or scared or relieved or anything in between. I can't blame her no matter what the point is -- this is a game of survival, and to win, you have to play.
"Turns out you are just like the rest, Aeson."
And then the other boy cuts against me. But I don't feel the hurt as much -- better to have enemy who slaps you in the face than a friend who stabs you in the back.
But I know better. I don't lose a friend in Aeson, nah, I just realise I never had one.
"Home is where the heart is, but your heart isn't in Six. It's in murder."
[ vesper attack aeson; crampons (spiked blunt) ]
AZJmeq72spiked blunt
[ 14060 -- 3.0, gash/bruised left shin ]
AZJmeq72spiked blunt
[ 14060 -- 3.0, gash/bruised left shin ]
spiked blunt