Camp Reilly

I'm Camp. I'm from district five, sixteen, and I can't wait to meet all of you!

[campreilly-blog]

Cold Hard Machinery

The one woman he needed to protect, the one who he honestly wanted to see a brighter day, a better world than the one in this bleak and dark shopping mall, the one that he could not protect to matter how hard he tried. Haven Ducari was wounded, and all he could do was stare. She sat on the linoleum floor, her shirt stained red from the blood flow that was emitting from her collar bone. Camp was frozen with fear, how could he help?

"Haven... I-- I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I... I just..." But there was no excuse. There was no reason he couldn't have helped her. "I'm scared." He said in a quiet voice, now crouched by her side. Placing a hand gently on her good side, he held onto her and stared deeply into her eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you when you needed it most.. I just.. I love you, okay? Don't forget that ever. When this is all said and gone, You'll be so much better than it all. You'll be great, Haven... But..." Why was he saying goodbye? Camp may be comforted by the thought, rather than fear it, but he wasn't planning on going now. Not when Haven needed him.

"I'm going to check next doors, see if there's some more towels or something to stop the bleeding." Gently, Camp leaned in and placed a light kiss on her lips. And then he pushed himself off the ground and he was gone. He knew better than to bring anything with him in case something happened. Besides, he was just going next door. He took careful and small steps outside and examined the stores. The store to his right seemed to be empty. Curiosity took the best of him and he took a step inside.

As soon as his feet touched the floor, he heard a soft click. The hologram of the empty room flickered off, and now standing before him was dozens of robots. Their looks mirrored those of past tributes. Farren Roger's box like movements toward him seemed oddly real, but they weren't. Aaric Abbott followed behind. As did Darleda Merk's and even Konno Jackson. They all were from the 100th Hunger Games. Camp screamed. He tried to run, but it was Farren's hands that grasped him first. "Haven!!" He yelled. "Haven!" But even if she did get there soon, it was too late.

Farren's cold metal hands raised him high above her head. Her faux hair fell in gentle blond ringlets around her metal face. But her expression was blank. That's where the similarities stopped. The Deceased Career was malicious and ruthless. She would kill without hesitation, and with a smile. The robot version of the career was cold. Camp closed his eyes tight to wait for the end of it all. He could hear the clank clank of the other robot's feet. Darleda's robotic Katana was gripped tighly in her mechanical hand. Camp shivered. These tributes were coldly humans. They were cold and ready to kill, but they were only human on the outside.

Camp wasn't ready to go, he wasn't ready to meet whatever fate he had at the end, and it was only now that he realized how wrong he had been. Life is a gift; One you should always cherish. And Camp didn't, he was so selfish and he could not see what he truly had. "Futura." He whispered. But he knew she was listening, on edge at home. Comfortable. "Don't follow me... Haven." He opened his eyes, just as her figure shown at the edge of the store. "I'm sorry."

Mechanical Farren took a small shutter, and dropped Camp to the floor. It was Robot Darleda that raised her weapon. She slashed Camp hard across the chest, digging her sword deep into his ribs. They had all broken.  He heaved a large grunt. But rather than scream, like a human, he smiled. It felt like years had passed before hands were touching his now numb arms. He was distant, and he couldn't hear a word. Everything felt like he was swimming, or floating, his breaths felt light in his chest. And everything faded away into the deep void of complete serenity.

[haven-ducari-blog]

A Bed of Nails || Camen and Vera

[haven-ducari-blog]

“You’re right,” Haven said automatically, surprised to see that even Farren agreed. They had a great deal of supplies to work with including chairs covered in a sort of foamy plastic, tiny bottles of nail polish, tweezers, razor blades… Haven barely managed to hide the shiver that passed though her. She set the medical kit down beside one of the over-turned chairs and motioned for Camp to do the same with the water. She looked at Vera just briefly but her eyes gravitated back to the door on the back wall. It could lead to safety (or at least a temporary sanctuary) or it could be a terrible trap.

[campreilly-blog]

Haven seemed worried for a minute, but Camp couldn't tell why. He followed her gaze to the.... razorblades. His palms grew sweaty and it became hard to swallow. How could he do this, here? Numbly, he sat the broken water, still mostly full, down next to the medical kit. Haven and Vera seemed distracted by the door at the back. Perfect, he thought with a cynical grin. In a swift motion, he grabbed a blade off the counter top it rested on, and pretended to venture up to the front of the store. In the corner there, he took a deep breath and released all the bad energy he had been holding in. The razor opened his eyes. The cuts were deeper than usual, more bloody. It was sharpening his senses, making him whole making him new. There were seven of them. And another than crossed through them all. Seven horizontal, and all deep. One vertical straight down the middle.

[haven-ducari-blog]

A Bed of Nails || Camen and Vera

Camp came to a stop at the top of the second staircase. Haven grabbed at the railing to steady herself and try to calm down as she stood beside him. She breathed a sigh of relief when their pursuer turned out to be Vera. Everyone else who ran was either hidden here or on another floor entirely. Farren glared at the three tributes with a look of impatient confusion that only Haven could see but soon enough she understood what the humans had seen immediately: it wasn’t that they couldn’t keep running or even that they didn’t want to. There was simply no where else to go. No turns and no exits as far as she could see. They faced a long row of shops that were either empty, useless or (most likely) filled with traps. Haven shut her eyes for a moment, trying to sort out her thoughts. When she opened them again, she voiced the truth that none of them wanted to accept. “We need a place to hide,” she spoke softly, letting her cautious, hesitant tone hide some of the urgency. She folded her knife shut and stuffed it in her pocket. She was still clutching the medical kit in her other hand. She’d panicked when she grabbed it. While Camp and Vera had managed to think of more practical supplies, Haven was still determined to act as a healer. It was pointless- given the arena, she wouldn’t likely be patching up any minor scrapes and cuts. Most injuries they could get in a place like this would be caused by a muttation or a fellow tribute and those would be fatal. It was too late to rethink that decision, though. Haven just had to hope they’d find more supplies elsewhere. For now, safety was the main priority. Managing a weak smile for her friends, Haven nodded and they set off down the hall: peering in a few shop windows and finding nothing useful from those first cautionary glances. It was the fifth store in that line that caught their attention. It had once been the kind of place Capitol women would go for manicures and spa treatments but it was in utter disarray now: chairs had been tipped onto their sides, bottles of paints and chemicals were strewn along the floor, contents half-gone, and quite a few sharp objects including scissors and broken glass. “Watch your step,” Haven whispered out of cautious instinct. When they were safely inside, the group looked around and finally spotted an open door against the back wall. Haven bit her lip hesitantly but she turned to her companions and murmured quietly, “What do you think?”

[campreilly-blog]

The broken container of water made Camp move slowly. He wobbled when he walked, and only looked up at Haven spoke. "What do you think?" She said referring to their surroundings. "It's not exactly a place I would go to," said Camp with a small smile. "But it'll do for us. We should make some sort of a... barricade of something, so if anything comes we can have some sort of protection."

[haven-ducari-blog]

But I Will Hold On Hope || Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

“I’m not… trying to change your mind or anything,” Haven almost choked on the words. She wanted to help but she had no idea how and sympathy was clearly the wrong approach. “But, remember when…” she shook her head and tried again. “Our alliance. Remember the girl from 9 is with us. Vera- she’s a friend. I don’t think she’ll hurt us until she thinks she has to; but I want…” No. Again, that was the wrong thing to say. “Will you please,” she spoke desperately, practically begging and almost certain Camp would hate her for it. Nonetheless, it needed to be said. “Will you stay with me just… for as long as you can?”

[campreilly-blog]

The girl from district 9, Vera. Camp had heard of her, of course, but he never had the pleasure of meeting her. Haven was a sweet girl, in a huge mess. Her boyfriend was one with an addiction to cutting, and wants to die. Her hobby consists of seeing ghosts and trying to help her suicide ridden love. "Will you stay with me just... for as long as you can?" Her voice was weak, but he loved it. Camp nodded with a simultaneous yes, and gave a weak smile. "There's a lot of things I want. That's been one of them since our first decision to stay together in the first place." He smiled again and kissed her softly. Regardless of Haven's intentions, she really did help him. He felt better... but not good. It would take a lot for him to feel good. "I love you." He whispered.

[haven-ducari-blog]

But I Will Hold On Hope || Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

That embrace put everything into perspective- it was so much more real and more painful than anything else she’d gone though recently but a sudden truth was clear: she didn’t have to bear it alone… and neither did he. Though his chorus of sobs and hysterical apologies, she held on, nodded, then pulled him even closer and rubbed his back softly. “Camp,” she whispered finally. “You’re a good person.” She pulled back just enough to look at him again and touched a gentle hand to his cheek. “You never hurt anyone but yourself. You know what it’s like to want to give up…” Haven bit her lip for a brief, pained moment but she didn’t look away. “To feel helpless… and I’m sorry for all the pain you’ve gone though but you don’t have to be sorry.” She let her hand drop and spoke carefully now, “If you want to hurt yourself again, please… just remember that you’re important. I wouldn’t be half as strong as I am- I wouldn’t even try if it wasn’t for you. There are some things worth living for. We might have a few days to find out what they are- together. It’s okay,” she finished. That final point was a lie but it was the only assurance she had. Camp wouldn’t believe half of what she said anyway but he would know how much she cared for him. For their final days in this world, it might be enough.

[campreilly-blog]

He’d heard it. He was sick of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead, her drew back and with a small necessity he kissed her. Haven was sweet, but so naive. There was much more than a want to hurt, its more of a need. Camp pulled back, the shaking had stopped, and he stopped breathing so awkwardly. “Thank you.” He whispered. And he was thankful for her. She just said the wrong things, but she didn’t know any better. He nodded for reassurance that he was alright and pulled down his sleeves.

[haven-ducari-blog]

But I Will Hold On Hope || Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

Haven made a point of forming brief eye-contact with Camp before she lowered her eyes and failed to hide her pained expression. She gently traced her fingers over the scarred, uneven skin of his forearm until she came to his wrist. From there, it was a simple, instinctive move to grab hold of his shaking hand and squeeze it for reassurance. She couldn’t even imagine what he felt- what could drive a person to that point, when the only solace meant self-destruction and the only escape meant willingly accepting death- volunteering for it. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help thinking of the stitches and the medications that could have healed these scars- but healing was never the point. Camp wasn’t looking for help or pity. He gave her trust and she could only respond with acceptance. She gently reached out to take his other hand as well and she looked up again. There was nothing else to say but she repeated the real point out of necessity, so he would understand that nothing had changed. Though a thin layer of tears, she met his eyes and whispered, “I love you.”

[campreilly-blog]

Her touch sent a prickling and shooting paint up his forearms. It caused him to shake more and her had to clench his jaw from screaming out. Camp squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on Haven. She held onto his hand, keeping him tied down to reality. "I love you." Her words were soft, but they cut through his daze. Using her hands that were connected with his, he pulled her closer, and held her tight. Tears fell from his eyes in a slow motion and he couldn't hold back the loud sobs anymore. "I'm so sorry." He kept repeating, but he didn't even know why he was apologizing anymore.

[haven-ducari-blog]

But I Will Hold On Hope || Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

Camp’s hand brushed her cheek just in time to catch the tear that streamed down it. It took some impossible amount of effort to keep from outright crying but a few teardrops were inevitable. Haven cried watching the Games every year, even for the tributes she didn’t know. No matter how this played out, twenty-three people were about to die and the lives they had touched would be damaged beyond repair. “It’s not fair for any of us, Camp,” she said quietly and it wasn’t just about the Games. Life was short and cruel. That fact was twice as apparent now as it had ever been. “I know…” she said quietly. “That death is just a part of life. I just hate that it can be organized like this.” And she wasn’t the only one- more than half of the ghosts she’d spoken to were dead tributes who would have had longer, better lives if they hadn’t been chosen for this. It was just sickening- they were still facing the consequences of war that happened over a hundred years ago and a rebellion that fell apart before any of them were even born. It was just never going to end. When Haven struggled not to cry now, she was already mourning the loss of her own life- that was inevitable but she grieved for her friends, her family and her fellow tributes as well. Her family had already lost a daughter. Spencer’s sister would very likely be alone in the world. Everyone who knew Ember and Vera would feel the same ache she did very soon and what about the ghosts? It seemed wrong to even think about them- there was no way to help them, no; Haven was just being selfish with that train of thought. Camp had publicly announced that he not only planned, but wanted to die. He believed her about the ghosts, he’d even been possessed by two of them but even the possibility of becoming one of the undead didn’t seem to make a difference. There was no denying the pain the boy felt- there was guilt and self-loathing among what should have been relief. Haven was powerless to combat such a state but she would be there for him in any way she could- literally until the end. She wasn’t sure which would be more painful- losing him to an accident, an illness, a murder or a suicide. Anything could happen and she’d have no choice but to let it play out, hoping it was truly what he wanted and that unlike her ghosts, he friend- the boy she couldn’t help but love -would finally find some peace. She pulled him in for a quick, emotional hug. Neither of them really cared for physical contact so acts that seemed simple or innocent to any other couple actually spoke volumes for Camen. It wouldn’t change anything but it was still necessary. “I love you,” she whispered. “And no matter what happens, you really helped me. I’m glad we had the time we did.”

[campreilly-blog]

"I love you too." Camp whispered back. "I want... I want to show you something." He said warily. No one had seen camps scars. Not a single person, because no one knew he was so depressed. Camp sighed. If there was one person who he wanted to see, it would be Haven. Pulling away from her, he peeled off his sweatshirt to reveal the long sleeved shirt he usually wore. Pushing up the sleeves to his elbows, it was evident that his arms were shaking beyond control. Facing his wrists out to her, he had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. He shook violently and fought against the tears that built up. So many thoughts came just from the sight of them, but he needed Haven to see. If there's anyone who needed to see, it was Haven.

[haven-ducari-blog]

But I Will Hold On Hope || Camen

After her private training session, Haven was careful to keep her injured arm covered, usually by wearing long sleeves. She’d stitched it up properly- even the nurses in the infirmary had seemed to approve and it was healing just fine. She had nothing to be ashamed of but she wasn’t sure how upsetting the sight or the idea of that cut would be for Camp and she knew they both had bigger things to worry about. Time was running out before the Games began and Haven couldn’t rule out the possibility of the ghosts from the Quell making a last minute appearance while the one person who could see them was still breathing. Rachel was officially gone and Farren hadn’t made an appearance since she’d helped in Haven’s training session. Camp was another concern. Haven didn’t think she could ever change his mind about wanting to die- especially not now when their future seemed so grim but she knew she could count on him and Vera in the meantime. They’d stick together as a team for as long as they could during the Games. With all that on her plate, Haven didn’t know where to begin. With a sigh, she approached Camp and gently reached out to hold his hand. “Let’s just try…” she began softly but her voice broke and she had to choke back a dry sob before finishing. “Try to make the most of the time we have left, okay?”

[campreilly-blog]

Their flat felt like a home before leaving for vacation, but they wouldn’t be coming back. Ever. Their days were limited, and all Camp could do was stair out the fucking window and try not to cut himself. He had been slicing his arms a lot more in the recent days. Ever since before the interview. He wore a long sleeve shirt and a sweatshirt over that for even more protection. The scars that lined his legs were covered by just a normal pair of jeans. Often, he was asked if he ever got too hot. Truth was, thinking about the cool blade was enough to cool him down even in the sweltering summer sun of district five. For Haven’s sake, Camp had to pull it together, but it didn’t seem like that would be happening any time soon. As Haven approached him, he told himself he had to be brave. Just for her.

Her voice was rugged and quiet. Her movements were desperate and heavy with necessity. “I’ve been told that.” He whispered. His eyes fell shut and he basked in the darkness for a moment, but even the red of his eyelids ruined the enjoyment. He wondered if that’s how death felt, except it was never being able to open your eyes again. In due time, Camp. He reminded himself. Still, he needed to be there for Haven. It wasn’t her fault she was in love with a boy who would rather die than fight. “I’m sorry, Haven.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry you have to… go through this.” He placed a hand on her cheek lightly. “I’m so sorry I’m not… I’m— You don’t deserve this, I’m sorry.” He couldn’t bring himself to say that he was dying mentally. He couldn’t tell her he’d mused about his own death for years now, and just one silly girl wouldn’t change it. He loved her, but odds weren’t in favor of both of them living anyways.

He imagined himself walking along a path in the woods, or along a mountain side, in the arena. He could see his attacker from afar, but rather than pull out a logical idea, he'd pick the idea of death over anything. He'd walk to his attacker, who now had their weapon ready in their hands. Rather than running, Camp would open his arms and just grin to the sky. Here goes the world. He'd say a prayer like his mother told him to do as a child, and he would be ready. Maybe his attacker would be merciful, but he never got much far past that part in the daydream. Usually that's where he would die... but Camp was unsure of what to do after that. Scream? Cry? Who knew. He had never died before. The knowledge was a foreign to him as fighting. Known but unknown at the same time.

[campreilly-blog]

Task Two: Interviews | Camp Reilly |

Camp sat in solemn silence, holding hands with the girl he was hopelessly in love with. He couldn't bring himself to watch her as her name was being called, but this just meant he was next and it was almost his turn to be interrogated. The other interviews he heard didn't seem to be too personal, but with his luck it would be completely personal, or embarrassing. "You'll be fine." He promised to Haven and let her hand go.

It was a painful few minutes, but then it was his name being called. Camp sucked in another breath and took a step out onto the stage in small shuffling steps.

The lights were blinding and he had to stop and allow them to adjust. The crowd was extremely loud and the music was in some happy poppy tune that bothered him. Shaking his head, Camp took another step toward the interviewer and put on a small smile. Be happy, be cheerful! He could almost hear his mentor's voice in his head. But fuck being happy. Camp wasn't happy. Why would he lie before he died? That's like committing a sin on your deathbed.

"Camp Reilly! District five! Welcome!" Camp shook the interviewers hand and took a seat across from him. "How are you doing tonight Camp? Feeling good?" No. "Yeah, I'm doing great." Lies. Lies. "That's great, Camp. How do you find the Capitol?" Awful. "Well, it's certainly a sight to see." That got a few bits of laughter from the audience. Maybe he could play off being the funny tribute. Maybe.

"I'm glad you find us interesting! But don't you miss home at all? Miss your parents, your family?" Camp paused, but the smile from his lips didn't fade. This was for everyone back at District five. Including Futura. "Yeah. I guess, but I'm better off here." No, Camp wasn't going to play the funny guy card. "And why's that?" The interviewer looked at Camp with complete fake attention. Camp sighed, but still he smiled. "I want to die." He would play the sadistic card.

The crowd all gasped in what seemed unison. For once, it seemed the interviewer was a a loss for words. He looked at something-- or someone-- backstage and gave a small, curt nod. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that." The interviewer mumbled quickly and moved on. He was eager to get off the subject. "Well... uh is there anyone special back at home?"

This time it was Camp who didn't know what to say. He didn't want to lie. But he didn't want to tell the truth. "Well, I guess you guys will have to watch and find out." He gave an awkward wink, that was really just a blink, to the crowd. They were silent, obviously still shocked by Camp's suicide mention. The interviewer laughed awkwardly. "Well, I think that's time, Camp."

It had not been three minutes. But Camp wouldn't argue. Gladly, he stood up and exited the stage.

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

How was she supposed to answer that? Camp’s presence was comforting but it wouldn’t change what had just happened or what was going to happen to both of them: in just a few days, they’d be dead too. Maybe if they were lucky, they’d never become ghosts but that was all the optimism Haven could manage under these circumstances. She shook her head for both Camp and Levi to understand that no, she wasn’t okay. Finally, she pulled Camp into a hug and held on desperately because she didn’t know what else to do. “I…” Farren trailed off unhappily. She didn’t want to let either of the human tributes out of her sight but she also knew that she needed to rest before the Games and so did Haven. The girl would never relax in her presence so she growled in quiet resentment then retrieved the dagger and led the way out of the room.

[campreilly-blog]

Camp pulled her even closer. The room got significantly warmer and he could feel the density of the room rise. It was like someone had left. "I think they're gone." He whispered in her ear. "Everything is going to be okay." Even though it wouldn't, he squeezed his eyes shut and held her tighter. All he wanted to do at that point was take a blade to his skin, but he resisted. "Haven." He muttered. "I know it's hard, but can I just tell you something? It might make you feel better." He didn't even wait for her to answer. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers, wiped her tears and looked her in the sad eyes. "Even back at home, you were the quiet one, Haven. But here you've opened up a new life to me." He paused and gave her a smile. "I love you." He whispered.

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

The returned control was both a relief and a shock to Haven’s body and mind. She collapsed in a graceless heap where her dead sister had been just moments ago. She cried without a sound and finally raised her tear-filled eyes to stare at the ghosts with useless resentment. They were all heartless. Farren debated what else she could do with Camp’s body but curiosity got the better of her and she slowly resigned. With an odd shiver, she moved to stand beside Levi and look over the scene. Aside from a few scratches on the floor, there was no evidence that Rachel had ever existed- let alone died a second time, in that room. She shrugged to hide her disappointment then turned her attention to Aaric. “Should we hold on to the-” she cut herself off. The dagger! Of course Camp was still holding it. She just had to be thankfully he wouldn’t know what to do with it.

[campreilly-blog]

And there he was. Camp stood, dagger in hand, breathing heavy though he had only just fallen asleep. Haven was on the ground crying, and the room was freezing. "Haven?" He said quietly in the even quieter room. He rushed to her side and held one of her cold hands with two of his even colder ones, leaving the dagger behind. "Are you okay?" He squeezed his eyes shut knowing nothing was okay.

"We should give them space." Levi said. "Just grab the dagger and let's get out of here. We've caused enough damage to that poor girl." Levi gave her a small look of sadness. "I'm sorry."

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

“What the fuck?” Farren stared uselessly at the spot where she thought the ghost was while Aaric moved himself and Haven to what seemed like a safer place, probably having some kind of panic attack. Farren had not time for sympathy. She expressed both confusion and exasperation but finally she got something useful from him. Growling in annoyance, she dropped into a sort of crouch and brought the dagger down hard, dragging it away from the initial slice and then back. “Are we…” She held on to the weapon warily. “Are we done yet?”

[campreilly-blog]

"I think we're okay." Aaric said breathlessly. Haven by this point was fighting harder than ever, and since the the job was done, Aaric let go. Being out of strange skin was comforting but chilling. Even ghosts felt their own chill.

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

Haven wasn’t consciously struggling for control but there were moments where she could see clearly and others where the world was a blur. She understood very little of what was going on but it terrified her all the same. Rachel was a violent, hateful being (not unlike Farren) but she was still Haven’s sister and that sent mixed feelings though the girl and probably also ghost sharing her body now. “Next time…” Farren panted resentfully as Rachel somehow continued to evade her and Camp made the occasional reach for consciousness. “How about I give directions and you fight blindly, huh?” She spat sarcastically toward Haven but she followed the instruction all the same. She slashed through the open air at her right side and froze. For a moment, it was as if she’d hit something solid. Another scream confirmed that it was actually the ghost she’d been aiming for. She brought the dagger back in a similar motion and snapped, “What? Is she dead yet?”

[campreilly-blog]

The blood curdling scream was enough to confirm something of significance. Levi took a step closer to the thing while Aaric coward behind a chair. "It's not moving. Tell her she's not moving but to stab once more, just in case." Aaric popped up. "Are you sure she's dead?" He repeated to Levi in a scared voice. "No, let's make sure." He hissed at Aaric who yelped, then obeyed Levi's orders. "Stab down right by your feet, just stab hard and wrench it." Aaric then popped down behind the chair in Haven's body.

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

Farren swore under her breath. She missed having a body of her own but, more than that, she missed fighting: trading pain for pain, the risk, the adrenaline. She wasn’t as fast as she should have been but because Camp wasn’t conscious enough to fight her for it, she was up again in a few seconds; but not before two cold hands wrapped around her throat. Rachel didn’t have the power to cause any real damage to this body but she was trying to get Farren to leave it. She didn’t want to risk anything happening to Haven- clearly, Farren didn’t either; but the boy was nothing. If she could gain control of him, she could take the dagger the other ghosts had found and use it to kill any one of them. She should have kept a better eye on said dagger, though. While Rachel was busy with those plans, Farren brought the dagger dangerously close to Camp’s throat and stabbed it right though one of Rachel’s hands. The ghost’s agonized shriek confirmed her location. Farren pulled the dagger back and slashed blindly though the air in that direction but then the sound slowly faded. She just stood frozen, waiting for confirmation… or something.

[campreilly-blog]

"Watch it!" Aaric grumbled with Haven's voice. "Hurry up! I'm losing her." He struggled to keep control over Haven. No matter how Aaric acted, he wasn't tough at all.

Camp could hear himself, but it wasn't him speaking. Everything felt like it was being said through glass or underwater. Opening his eyes, there was a flash of something that wasn't human... but what? As quick as he could see, his sight vanished and he couldn't stay awake.

Aaric growled as the teen struggled against his powers. "Aaric. Pay attention to Farren." Levi's voice was stern. "To your right." Aaric said impatiently and a clear struggle in his voice.

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

Farren mimed confusion. It was a deliberate move to give the ghost a sense of safety that would vanish in a moment. Rachel really hadn’t moved. She was either clueless or overconfident. “You can’t see me,” she taunted as though it hadn’t been obvious all along. “I wonder wh-” Farren kept her eyes on Aaric but she brought the dagger up with some insane speed. She didn’t have to see to know that she’d connected with some part of the ghost’s anatomy. It was then that she felt something cold grasp her- Camp’s -wrist and try to drag her down. “Aar-” she screeched, pulling the dagger back and dropping to her- Camp’s -knees at the same time.

[campreilly-blog]

Farren was quick with the reflexes, but Rachel had the upper-hand. Farren was still stronger. Aaric watched the two, but when Farren fell, he shook his head with some form of disappointment. "Watch your behind." He said carelessly.

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

Farren made a little sound of annoyance but she was content enough to be the one holding the special ghost dagger. Whatever it was, Aaric had assured her that the tool could destroy Rachel and that was all the encouragement she needed in the meantime. It was nice just being in control of a weapon again. She forced Camp’s hand into a better, more forceful grip on the handle. Even if she couldn’t see her target, she caught a glimpse of the light reflecting off the blade and she actually smiled. “Too bad ghosts don’t bleed,” she gave a smile note of self-amused laughter and forced the body into a standing position. “Okay…”

[campreilly-blog]

Aaric-Haven rose along with Farren-Camp and he walked awkwardly to Rachel. "Careful, sweetie... don't want to hurt your sister." He smirked and turned back to Farren. "To my left."

[campreilly-blog]

What's Past is the Past | Camen

[haven-ducari-blog]

Farren didn’t like the idea. She’d claimed Haven’s body for herself and she didn’t want Aaric, Rachel or anyone else using what was hers. It wasn’t until Aaric tried to take control of the girl that it even occurred to her. If something went wrong in the Games and she lost Haven, she’d have to get used to a different body- one belonging to a person who couldn’t communicate with ghosts: an added challenge. Great. She pressed a cold hand against Camp’s chest nonetheless and focused. The human might have some idea what was happening but he wouldn’t know how to fight back even if he wanted to. Haven sat perfectly still and willed herself to believe Levi’s assurance. She wasn’t going to fight but she wasn’t willingly helping them either. Rachel, meanwhile stood near the center of the room and watched the whole process without a word. She knew it was possible to possess a human body but she’d never successfully achieved it, even when she attempted it with Haven who’s body was identical to the one she’d had while alive. After a few seconds, Farren took a breath that she could actually feel. Breathing was good- at least one vital process was still automatic for Camp. She forced his eyes shut and then open again. “What the hell?” She whispered, using some odd combination of Camp’s voice and her own. She stared at the spot she was sure Rachel Ducari hadn’t moved from but she couldn’t see anyone there. The same applied for Levi. “Aaric,” she murmured accusingly. “What’s wrong with these eyes?”

[campreilly-blog]

It took Aaric a minute to adjust to a female's body, but slowly he regained control of Haven's mindset. "What's wrong with these eyes?" He recalled his possession over Camp in the past. No ghosts. He looked at her-- him-- and shrugged. "I'll guide you to her just stay on your toes." He nodded and stared at Rachel. Levi, who was comforting Haven, witnessed the attack over the girl's body. All he could think was how angry he would be if he were Camp.