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Post by Tonks on Jul 9, 2014 17:04:10 GMT
The gamemakers got to work. They made the arena almost silent before letting out the sound of a dying girl's scream near enough to each tribute that they would think it was only a few trees away*. Then they sounded the cannon. A few seconds later the smoke came in, pitch black smoke gravitating towards each tribute from the direction of the scream. They made other changes to the arena too. The lake was expanded, the cornucopias gone, and the water was a lot deeper. Three stone bridges ascending at a very steep angle would be the only thing left to stand on past the trees. These joined together at a small platform, terrifyingly high above the water. When all three tributes would reach the top, the arena would switch to daylight, the smoke would disappear, and the bridges would collapse behind them, leaving them no option but to fight or fall. *scream locations are indicated by the red circles on the map: ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Neil Mason turned his head towards the scream. Persephone. The cannon boomed and a horrifying realisation that he was now only one of two tributes left came to mind. His proximity to the scream was also a worry. What should he do? Pursue it or run? There were so many good and bad points to each one that he couldn't make his mind up and just stood. But then his mind was made up for him. The smoke came towards him like a pitch black wall. It was as though the edge of the world was shrinking and about to erase him forever. He turned and ran through the trees. He halted, nearly falling into the lake. He could barely see it in the dark. As the smoke edged nearer, he had no choice but to ascend up a strange stone bridge that he hadn't encountered before. He must've reached a part of the arena he hadn't explored before. The bridge got steeper and steeper and higher and higher, and soon it was more like climbing than walking.
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Playle
Talking In Your Sleep
Posts: 441
Deadly Sin: Sloth
Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw
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Post by Playle on Jul 9, 2014 21:50:28 GMT
The scream certainly alerted Onyx from the waxing blackness which was overtaking him. He opened his eyes, winced as his movement was too sharp, and felt the breath come out of him. He could not even recall the names of the female tributes, so whoever's demise it was was now unknown to him. All he knew was searing pain from his gut upwards.
As if on cue, the silver parachute bearing a sponsorship gift descended between the black trees. It landed inches from him, and he began to scramble to see what kind of magic Merlot had whipped up to help the tribute in his dire situation. All that was inside was a 6" by 6" piece of fabric, a pair of green pills and a piece of paper. He looked through bleary and hazy vision and could barely make out the letters as he read them.
"Don't die yet. Might work. M."
Reassuring. He slapped the patch onto the spear wound on his lower abdomen, expecting the cloth to provide some kind of sealant against infection and bleeding out. Remarkably, the fabric patch stuck onto his skin in an instant, creating a sealed environment with an application of anti-septic ointment. It was ingenious, and it certainly gave him one less open woud to worry about. It did not fix the injury, more just painted over it.
The pills took a couple of attempts to swallow, as his throat was parched and he could not find water aroudn. They fell down his throat, leaving a sickly and bitter taste. What they did he did not know, but after a couple of minutes he felt awake and even strong enough to stand. Walking came some minutes later, but it was more of a staggered jog as he feared the approaching black mist. It was hard to distinguish it from the rest of the night, but it appeared to swallow the area around him whole. He'd only had time to pick up his axe, and even the weight of that was a great burden on Onyx's tattered body.
If it were not for the prototype first aid combined with a will to succeed, Onyx would have bled out on the forest floor. Whatever kept the shambling carcass alive now was beyond him. He kept peeking over his shoulder at the approaching black behemoth of smog. It instilled fear on him and he could not figure out why. He cleared the forest soon enough and began his way along stone. To either side was churning water. He could only imagine the fish were still in there. That made him more determined to keep going. Limping along as the pain was numbed but not disappeared, Onyx kept on moving. The ascending bridge became a challenge which took the very breath out of him, but he could not let the arena consume him.
This was it. This was the game makers bringing them together for a showdown. And he knew more than anybody that he was in no state to compete. Still, he would rain hell on the others who would defy him victory.
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Merlot was glad to see his tribute up and going, but it was clear what the gamemakers plan was. He was losing faith by the minute in Onyx, watching the tribute sway and stumble. Sheer luck or some other divine intervention could assure Onyx victory, but on his own it was not looking good.
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Post by PenguinNinja on Jul 10, 2014 12:36:00 GMT
Tara was frozen to the spot when the scream sounded followed by the cannon. It was close. So close. Too close. Her heart pounded with the fear that she would be next. They were only a few feet away, what could she do? If she ran, they would surely see her and follow. But if she stayed where she was there was every chance that the surviving tribute would find her and kill her.
When the thick black smoke started to whisper in she found her answer. If she stayed she would surely be dead. Better to run and see then fight blind. So she hiked her bag over her shoulder, pulled out one of her makeshift bombs from her pocket and clutched it in her fingers like a lifeline. She stumbled a little as she tried to pull the matches into her hands, keeping herself ready to light the fuse at a moment's notice.
Before she knew it she was coming to a clearing where she was certain the cornucopia should've been. What she in fact saw was a large stone bridge that was steep and high. It dawned on her what this was, the gamemakers at work. This was it. The final fight.
Fear filled her stomach as she started up the bridge. The smoke was still coming and no matter how much she feared what waited for her up there, it was better than being stuck in the smoke with what looked like rising waters.
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Post by Tonks on Jul 10, 2014 17:14:43 GMT
Neil reached a flat area and took a minute to get catch his breath. He armed himself with a large dagger. The platform he was on stretched around 50' in diameter, with nothing protecting him from falling, but he did not know it as it was still dark. He took a few steps around to the right and suddenly everything was bright. The sun stung his eyes and it took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the different light before he could see. Then there they were in front of him, Onyx and Tara. The number of tributes threw him off, but he just shook it off and tried to concentrate. With several loud crashes and splashes, the bridges tumbled into the lake below. Onyx was injured, that was clear. Tara looked fine but he hoped he would be able to beat her with brute strength. Knowing that there was no other option, he charged forward with his knife in the air.
"AAAGGHHHHH!"
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Post by PenguinNinja on Jul 10, 2014 18:20:14 GMT
Tara's heart stopped the moment the bright sun appeared. Onyx and Neil. Two tributes from district's one and two. Both were bigger than her, strongr, better. 'I'm dead,' she thought to herself as her fingers began to lose their grip on her only advantage.
Onyx looked injured, but that meant nothing and she knew that. Looks were deceiving in this game and not to be trusted.
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes with a threat to show themselves. Not now. She couldn't cry now. She had to try to survive, for her Dad, for her. She needed to get home.
Neil screamed and she had jumped at the sudden intrusion of sound and she dropped the makeshift bomb. Then he was running and for a few short seconds she froze. It felt as though the world was moving in slow motion as his hulking figure grew bigger the closer he got. With very quick beat of her heart she could feel death draw nearer and with each painful thud came the realisation that this might not be quick.
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Playle
Talking In Your Sleep
Posts: 441
Deadly Sin: Sloth
Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw
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Post by Playle on Jul 12, 2014 14:30:19 GMT
The worse for wear Tribute looked at both Tara and Neil. She had some kind of ace up her sleeve to have survived this long, and he was one of the careers. They were going to be tenacious either way, clinging on to the will to live and to the chance of victory. Their past experiences would have hardened them for this climactic battle.
Onyx did not feel like any odds were in his favour. Between missing digits, gaping wounds and a ruptured organ, he was not champion material. The burning splitting sensation of his wound throbbed with each and every motion the boy made. Lifting his axe, his only remaining weapon, was an Olympian feat. He gritted his teeth, spittle and blood gushing forth through gaps in his dentistry.
Part of him would rather die fighting than win in his battered state.
Neil's knife was high in the air, and the career probably aimed to slam it into somebody's skull. Onyx used his dwindling energy and vigour to do a low and wide horizontal sweep with his axe, hoping to clip somebody's leg or slash open their thigh.
"COME ON THEN!" he bellowed so loud that his lungs ached and his breath became wheezy afterwards.
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Post by Tonks on Jul 12, 2014 17:13:10 GMT
Neil was going to go at first for Tara, but when Onyx's axe sliced open the back of his calf he charged at him full of adrenaline, pushing him towards the edge and plunging his knife into his stomach. His face was crazed, his teeth gnarling and his eyes wide.
"GAAAAHHHH!!!!" He wanted the girl to fear him if nothing else.
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Playle
Talking In Your Sleep
Posts: 441
Deadly Sin: Sloth
Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw
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Post by Playle on Jul 12, 2014 22:05:26 GMT
The axe's head tasted blood, crashing into Neil's calf with great force. Onyx didn't feel rejoice or satisfaction, as it wasn't like he had properly hamstrung Neil. Especially as he came barrelling towards him, knife readied. Onyx looked to Tara, the girl who probably had the brains to tackle both his own and Neil's brawn. In an alternate reality, maybe it would have been wiser for the two careers to team up against her. But it was this reality, the one where Onyx had wounded Neil. The one where Neil's knife had dug itself right into his stomach.
It felt like the spear agony all over gain, and he knew only pure adrenaline could keep him going. Except pure adrenaline had been keeping him going so far anyways. Whatever kept him upright, angry, determined and feisty was unbeknownst to him. He just had the slither of stamina left to do what he could.
He drove his heels into the ground, bracing for the impact as best he could, tensing his stomach against the metal blade which had split his stomach asunder. He wrapped his big arms around Neil's large frame, not so much grappling him as grasping him and clutching for survival. Through sheer will, he refused to fall right now, looking into his assailant's eyes instead. He spat a bloody and phlegmy blob at Neil before speaking.
"If only... this... was even... ground... "
He didn't mean the incredibly high platform they were fighting on. He meant if Neil at his full strength and himself at his full strength could have duked it out instead. This was a vulture picking on the remains of a dying animal compared to a duel between two worthy opponents. That actually saddened Onyx in a strange sort of way. But fate had destined this.
"KILL ME THEN!"
He shouted it through gritted teeth, his weak body wrestling for survival against Neil's. He looked at the girl, Tara, and hoped to god she stabbed this career in the back when he was gloating in his victory. Onyx had failed to live up to what his father had been. He'd known his death was a certainty, but he had gripped on to the potentiality of victory until now.
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Merlot had to stop watching. He saw the knife go into Onyx and that signalled the end of it. His attempt to prolong his tribute's life had been for naught, and had not secured District One's victory in the end. He walked away from the screen, hearing people behind him usher questions and mutterings about this fight. He just didn't want to know. He thought this year would have a victor, but you couldn't win them all. Like father like son did not seem to apply here. He left the bar, preparing for all the interviews he'd have to do about the "so close, yet so far" kid from District One. There was always next year. There was always more meat to add to the grinder.
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Post by PenguinNinja on Jul 13, 2014 9:47:06 GMT
When Onyx had swung his axe Tara had found her ability to move and tried to step back. The edge of the platform greeted her feet and one leg slipped down, the rough stone marking a fresh, half inch graze down her shin. She pressed herself forward, the wound pressed against the stone and the pain searing through her leg with fury.
She pulled herself back up, twisting to avoid any more damage, but she had to remind herself that she was not alone. There were two other people with her and she twisted her eyes back to the chaos.
Onyx spat in Neil's face, Neil's hand embedded somewhere within his stomach and Tara felt the realisation dawn on her. She would be next if she didn't do anything. Her eyes sought the ground, looking for her bomb. It sat a few feet out of reach and she pushed herself in that direction with a limping run. She fell to the ground, inchs from her weapon and sh grabbed it tightly. Next on her agenda was lighting the blasted thing and she had to scour the floor with her eyes once more. The matches weren't too far away and she grabbed them, lit one of them, pushed the flame towards the fuse and watched it catch fire.
She turned her eyes back to Neil and Onyx and stopped. They were so close that she couldn't directly throw it at them. She'd be forced back and probably over the edge.
But the fuse was lit and time was running out.
She swallowed her fear, pulled back her arm and tried to guess the amount of power she would need to throw the thing behind the pair. That way she hoped to give herself a chance of going home. She took one last look at Onyx and felt sorry for the guy. It hadn't been a fair fight and the guy had suffered for it. She moved her eyes to a spot behind them and threw her bomb.
Tara took a couple of steps back, let her left leg collapse underneath herself and pressed her hands over her ears.
3... 2... 1...
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Post by Tonks on Jul 13, 2014 20:28:34 GMT
The blood travelled down Neil's arm but he made a point to keep eye contact with Onyx. The spit flicked into his eye with a sting. If only this was even ground. What good was that? A poor attempt at a threat in his last moments. Neil simply smirked back. He didn't get it. It wasn't about fair fights and clean deaths. It was a show. Neil twisted the knife at Onyx's request to 'kill me now', and then he started to hear Tara fumbling around. Tara, Tara, what was her game? How did she make a show? Then he remembered Amethyst going up in flames. When something landed behind Onyx, he knew it couldn't be good. He pushed Onyx backwards as hard as he could, hopefully enough to throw him off the ledge with whatever was behind him. He leapt back with all the strength he could muster in an attempt to escape the blast.
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Post by PenguinNinja on Jul 16, 2014 10:06:33 GMT
The explosion knocked Tara onto her back, a ringing in her ears. A cloud of dust and falling bits of stone surrounded her and she opened her eyes to a spinning sky. She didn't think she'd been that close or the explosion that large.
Tara clamped her eyes shut again and pushed herself up onto her elbows, her head pointed in the direction of the blast. She opened her eyes, blinked a couple of times, and eyed the area with surprise. Part of the floor was missing. There were micro cracks that ran along the floor a few inches, making the edges of the torn out floor dangerous to step on. The hole itself was a good few feet wide along one edge.
She shuffled herself back, twisting her head around the small raised platform to see where the other tributs were.
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Playle
Talking In Your Sleep
Posts: 441
Deadly Sin: Sloth
Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw
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Post by Playle on Jul 16, 2014 20:27:57 GMT
Onyx was in agony as the knife turned. The pirouette of the blade felt like all his organs were in a washing machine, bashing about and turning wildly. The sinew and skeleton which made up Onyx were at the mercy of the blade. He was a dying puppet at the end of Neil's knife.
The tribute pushed against Onyx. His already drained stamina could not put up much resistance, and he found himself giving ground. His guts were pouring out from his wound, and even the padded wound was bleeding profusely. He was a goner, it was more than confirmed. Beneath his feet, a small flaming item hissed and fizzed. Through his hazy vision, he did not know if he just imagined that or if it was real.
The shove had his feet going first, his shins slicing open against the sharp rock and shingle. One knee bashed against the stone with such an impact that his ball joint popped out of place. His body was descending, but he managed to clutch onto the ledge with his arms first. Then his fleeting energy made him slip, and his hands clutched for survival on the precipice. If he'd had all his fingers intact, this might have been an easier activity. If his insides weren't outside and spattered down the stone face, it would have been a lot easier. He was dealt this hand though. A loser's hand.
This hissing, fizzing, flaming item rolled towards one of his hands. He knew it was real now, but he did not have the conscious energy to click what it did. Until it was too late.
The fiery boom blasted off his remaining fingers clutching to the ledge, reducing his digit count even more during this Hunger Games. He felt his hands turn red raw from the hot blast, along with part of his face. Then he knew he was falling with half the ledge, and his last attempt of survival was in the air.
The water was rushing towards him fast now. Beside him were lumps of the platform, hurtling towards the lake. Some were on fire, some were blackened. Onyx's last thoughts before hitting the lake were not of family he would never see, or his chances of victory, or how much he detested Neil. It was of Chum's body being devoured by the ravenous beasts which lived here in the blue. The biting fish who would feast upon every last morsel of the boy who was Onyx. The bleeding, battered, disfigured and dying boy who was Onyx.
The water greeted him, and everything went black.
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Merlot did not stay to witness the death of his tribute. However, somewhere in District One's Victor's Village was a weeping man. Pierre Quentin-Dewitt, dressed dashingly as always, was hulking over with his head in both hands. He had braved the games, he had won himself, he had killed his fair share of tributes. But to watch his son endure the same and die at the last hurdle... it seemed worse than all the challenges he had faired. His eyes were red from crying, his lungs aching from sobbing, and he knew the arrogant boy who had left District One would not be returning. His arrogant boy who he had loved and raised for eighteen years, disappearing at the gamemaker's whim. Nothing would fill that hole in his heart.
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Post by Tonks on Jul 21, 2014 16:33:19 GMT
Neil's eyes were wide as he tried to focus. His ears were ringing so much he thought he could feel it travel right through his brain. He shook his head and looked around. "Are you fucking nuts?! You trying to kill yourself too?!" He went to stand but as he put his weight onto his hand the floor beneath it crumbled and he nearly slipped. A huge amount of the platform was now missing, but thankfully none of his limbs. His legs felt red hot and he daren't think of the blisters and burns to which his trouser legs were now bonded to; the fibres infusing together in a horrible congealed mess. He scrambled to his feet and turned to the girl responsible for the bomb. She wasn't even a career, how had she survived this far? Then he realised that with bombs like that there was nothing stopping her. Except of course the high platform they were now stood on. Another bomb would kill them both for sure, unless that's what she wanted? He spat on the floor and tossed his knife from hand to hand.
"Better think quick little girl, or prepare to die."
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Post by PenguinNinja on Jul 21, 2014 21:56:47 GMT
She gulped. She'd hoped that she'd managed to get the both of them but luck was not in her favour, which only meant... the blood started to drain from her face and she tried to pull herself up, her eyes fixed on the glint the knife let off as it was tossed from one hand and to the other.
She hissed as she pushed her hands to the floor and Tara looked down to her legs. Shards of stone were embedded within her leg and if she tried to put pressure on it hot searing pain made itself known through her entire limb. Her left elbow was bloodied and scratched, the fabric of her shirt gone along with several layers of skin.
Tara moved back until her hand slipped off the edge and she fell with a jerk. Neil had a knife in his hands. Hers was in her bag. She could risk a second bomb, maybe hope to kill them both before a true victor could be called. But could she pull off such a task before Neil shvoed his knife into her?
She doubted it and she moved with quick speed. Tara worked on slipping her hands through the straps of her bag and let it fall to the floor. She twisted her upper body round to grab the bag, throw the lid open and shove her other hand deep inside.
But she couldn't find her knife and Neil was coming towards her.
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Post by Tonks on Jul 24, 2014 9:17:55 GMT
Neil kicked Tara hard in the back of the leg to make her fall as she searched through her bag. Then he kicked her again in the ribs. He could slit her throat and be done with it but after all this he wanted to take his anger out on someone and make a victory to remember.
"Get up and fight!"
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