#aopdisaster

[juniper-chisesi-blog]

The Rapture: Disaster Task

"We have to move," I heard from one of my allies, and we all started into the jungle. I ran to grab my clothes and spear, hurriedly tugging my still-damp pants up over my hips as I caught up with them. I lost my shirt as we charged through the jungle's dense foliage, but managed to salve my jacket. 

The training I'd done in the gauntlet was coming in handy yet again as we leapt over tree roots and fought our way through vines and plants. The roar of waves boomed behind us like thunder and echoed between the tall trees. 

"We aren't going to make it!" I shouted desperately, glancing back to see the white brim of water chasing behind us. It would disappear for a moment before slithering back at terrifying speeds, reaching farther than before. Verma, who was ahead of us all, slowed down a bit and we all ran together as we tried to come up with a plan to get to the cornucopia. water was already brushing at our feet. 

That's when the boat came up. 

Together, we worked out a plan and pieced together what to do, all of us splitting up momentarily to gather the needed supplies. For Melody and I, it was leaves. For Verma and Jasmine, branches. When that was done, we all high tailed it up into one of the high trees of the jungle and set to work. In minutes Verma and Jasmine had pieced together the outer structure. It was a simple little thing, a glorified raft with sides, but it would do. 

There was no way we could escape the water, so why not use it to our advantage?

I used vines from the trees and the remaining strips of fabric to secure the structure, then went to join the others in securing leaves and fabric to fill it in. We coated the entire inside in tree sap to stop any leaks, the four of us all covered in the stuff by the time we'd finished. And not a moment too soon. The crack of tree branches being snapped like twigs was beginning to join the roar of the water. We all climbed in and say in a line, holding on to branches with one hand and the boat sides with the other, leaving us dangling over the rushing water. 

"On three!" Verma shouted. "Wait!" I said suddenly, earning glares from the group as I reached for a remaining, long vine. I looped it around us, securing us together. It would held to keep us balanced. Help to keep us safe. 

"One!" I felt my heart pounding as I looked down at the water. I wondered what Arthur was thinking.  "Two!" I thought of my nieces at home, and of my parents and sister. I wanted to get home to them. I wanted it more than anything else. "Three!"

I couldn't help but scream as we dropped, and were soon pulled along with the water. It was fast, and the boat was shaky, but it worked. We bobbed above the water, all of us throwing our weight this way and that to avoid obstacles and keep us upright.

Melody and Jasmine kept their eyes open for mutts or other living threats, and I had my spear close just in case. I knew I could use it to beat attackers away, or stab them, but never throw it. My aim would have been terrible with so much movement.

The ride felt like it was taking forever. I didn't know how close we were to safe grounds, but every now and then I caught glimpses of the gleaming cornucopia. It got closer and closer every time. 

As we rode the rapids through the arena, I found myself saying a silent prayer to a God I wasn't even sure existed. Keep us safe. I pleaded, gritting my teeth as water sprayed us for the thousandth time. 

[loganbaxwoll-blog]

I dare you to move. | Logan

His body slightly shook forward the same time his eyes opened. As if someone pushed him awake, out of his dream. The last thing he remembered was Irma looking down at him, smiling with her red hair. Her voice was the sound that woke him up. Not terrified, not bleeding, not screaming. Happy. Logan didn't know why the expression on his face felt so indifferent.

He blinked his eyes a few times, before looking up at the sky and being greeted by the morning. What was it? Day 3? It didn't matter. As long as they were alive, they would be hunted. Another ray of sunlight meant another chance to be murdered. Another hard day trying to survive. Another day of heightened paranoia. His other hand felt his small knife and pack, on his side, that helped him survive the Games. He turned his head back to see Larka had awoken, when he was greeted by a voice beside him. "Morning," she muttered.

Logan turned back to see Rowan, leaning her face into his arm. His eyes watched her closely, as he began to smile. "Morning," he simply answered. He remembered her wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly, the night before. He wrapped his own arm around her waist, just to be there for her. Any excuse to hold her. When she started to speak again, Logan gently pulled her closer to him. He still wasn't fully awake, so he made some kind of verbal acknowledgment to what she was beginning to say. He smiled at the memory she was describing. We're in the arena and she's talking about the masquerade ball. Her head's in a much better place. He chuckled, remembering the last night they were all really allowed to be...alive.

Hearing her talk about the boy he guessed she danced with, and how she sounded talking about him, made him feel a sudden pang of jealously. But just because he held her now didn't mean someone else, couldn't. He remembered his own dance with a beautiful girl. " You weren't the only one-" he was interrupted by an explosion of noise and the ground beneath them, beginning to shake.

He impulsively grabbed his knife, quickly looking around, ready to attack like he was with the monkey mutts, before his eyes fell back on Rowan. He could easily see the fear in her eyes, while he tried to hide his own. It wouldn't help their situation if he was scared, too. He could hear the birds from up above, but what surprised him most were the exotic animals  of the forest, running away in fear. In all different directions. He gulped and his eyes widen at the sight of the ground breaking apart in the distance, watching as some of the animals were unlucky enough to fall through the larger cracks. He turned in another direction and saw one of the growing cracks lift the ground, causing one of the tall trees to fall.

Wake up Logan, he began to tell himself. It's time for you to run.

He quickly got to his feet and grabbed the rest of his Polypiferous brevisimus from his bag, before slipping the pack onto his shoulders. He bit down on the teal leaves, swallowing the water quickly, before throwing their stems away. He'd need water in his system, for this. He turned, almost covering his ears when he heard Rowan scream for Larka.  " Rowan!" he shouted back, trying to calm her screams, but she was one step ahead of him. The next of his alliance was what he was looking for now. Turning back, he couldn't find Larka. "Larka!" he shouted louder, trying to do the same as Rowan. Trying find and keep their alliance together while everything around them was falling apart. " Larka!" he screamed, looking for her. Trying not to lose another friend. Trying not to bring on a future nightmare. He turned back around to his dismay to see Rowan. Gone. Logan couldn't stand around on this shaky surface anymore. He had to move.

Logan gave one last look behind him, before he started to run in the direction he thought he saw Rowan go. He staggered with every few steps, the ground shaking roughly below his feet. He fell just before a crack violently ripped, horizontally, through the ground, opening up a hole quickly to Rowan's route. Detour. He had to take a detour now. He picked himself up off the ground and set up some distance from the crack before starting to stagger as he ran again, but he barely went anywhere before his body hit the ground again. He quickly realized that if he wanted to make it out, alive, he was going to have to use more than his feet. He looked up from the shaky ground to the trees. Some had fallen, others would follow, but he thought it was his best chance of survival. He just hoped the trees he'd climb,wouldn't fall.

 He crawled to the nearest tall tree, he could find. He held onto the tree for dear life as he slowly pulled himself up the trees branches. When he saw one of the branches of the next tree in the same general area as a branch from the tree he was climbing, he stopped climbing and stood on the wide branch. His arm curled around the body of the tree as he stood. The trees shook as well. Logan knew he couldn't stay on the branch for very long or he'd lose his balance and fall. He counted down, slowly: 3...2...1! He ran along the branch for a few seconds, then jumped. Flying in the air, stretching his arms out to the next tree's branch to catch it. His hands caught the next branch, swinging his body around it, twice, before landing his feet on the surface. He quickly clenched onto the body of the tree, as he watched another crack run through the ground, passed the tree he landed on.

He tried this method again on the next tree, but the next branch was smaller and couldn't hold his weight. The branch broke beneath his feet and he started falling, through the air. Logan quickly outstretched his arm and jabbed his knife into the bark of the tree, stopping his motion. Looking down the long, skinny branch hit the shaking ground. He held onto the tree as he took out his knife and slowly slid down it. Landing on the ground and picking up the branch, he knew the trees wouldn't work well alone, either. Using the branch as a way to keep his body steady by pushing it against the ground, he tried running again with more success. Off in the distance he could see hanging vines, and an idea popped in his head. If he was careful to only use stronger, bigger trees to jump from, the hanging vines, and the branch to help him run, maybe he could make it out alive. So for the next several minutes, he used a combination of all three: using the branch while running, if  it wasn't safe to climb the tall trees or hanging vines were around. Climbing and swinging from trees who were tall and had thick branches. Grabbing and holding multiple vines to swing his body to another vine, going farther than if he was on foot.

Coming back into the light with his knife and one hand and the branch in another, he could barely see the Cornucopia in the distance. His forearm was covered in small cuts from some of the smaller branches or bushes attached to the large branches he landed on. He was about ready to fly there, when his eyes caught another tribute. Rowan. He ran to her, wanting to hold onto so she could never leave his sight, again. He threw the branch down, not caring if his body, staggered. He temporarily stopped, but he wanted so badly not to. He could see the blood she split, the way she walked forward to him just to collapse to her feet, crying. Logan turned, wide eyed, at another sound of an upcoming crack of the ground coming there way. They didn't have time to sit still. He quickly reacts by placing his knife in his pocket and picking Rowan up in his arms and carrying her, as he tries his best to keep his balance and run.

When it seems like they've almost made it to the Cornucopia, Logan slows down to feel Rowan's hands, cupping his face. He's trying to catch his breath, but he doesn't want to upset her by rejecting her hands. When she pulled his face closer to hers, he could see it. He could see the eyes of the beautiful girl he danced with at the Ball. It was Rowan. It was Rowan all along. When their lips finally touch, he stopped his movement. He could tear her lips apart for what they'd both just gone through. A part of him did, returning his kiss somewhat roughly. Manic. He said nothing when she pulled away. He just stared into her eyes, finally showing the fear he'd been holding back. But at the same time, he had Rowan.

He lowered his arms so Rowan could walk on her feet again. Just a few steps and they were back at the Cornucopia. 

Logan wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

[little-red-finch]

Come on, Skinny Love, just last the year. || Disaster

It was the sunshine streaming down in the morning that woke me from my sleep, otherwise I never would have wanted to open my eyes. My head rested against the sinewy muscle of his arm having must of slipped there during the night when my eyelids finally fell too heavy and Neverland came my way.

His eyes soon opened, I knew, at the feeling of my movement. Brown eyes fluttered wide open as they attempted to accept the light was offering. A smile crossed my lips as I look at his sleepy face. “Morning,” I muttered leaning my face back into his arm, the smell of dirt and sweat and him strong. I didn’t want to move because I knew. I knew. “That stupid memory—,” I said with my voice still soft as he made a small moan of acknowledgement, “At the ball. Being held by a boy in a mask with brown eyes. Just ace.” The words of my voice as it paused with each sentence caused my breath to dance across the exposed skin of his arm as did a smirk grow across my own face.

I heard him begin to speak, his voice begin to form words but it all meant nothing when the explosion sounded and shook the earth. Some believe the world will end in fire. Some believe it will end with water, with ice. But there are those of us, who against better judgement, choose answer C.) but for once, it’s wrong.

There was silence as I sat up just as he did after the first shake, I turning to look at him, my face expressionless but my eyes showing the fear I felt. And all at once a canopy of birds erupted from the trees around us forming a tapestry of multiple colors. Beauty at its finest, but there was no time for that as another wave shook through. We were birds bobbing in the ocean, calm and still but with waves ready to happen at any time.

Whether someone heard me or not did not matter anymore. This was it for those eight of us remaining. My voice screamed, howled like the wolf within me for Larka, wherever she may be. One of my pack gone, but with no time for finding my sister. The naked soles of my paws tried to run, tried to stand as another quake erupted splitting the ground. A knife, a knife. My knife. My hands have found their old familiar friend, and out of the corner of my vision could I see Larka running towards us, her voice making meaningless attempts to speak, but the frantic attempts conveyed what she could not.

A song played in my ears deafening all else as I ran, struggled to stay afoot when all else around me fell to pieces; the whispers of the angels accompanied by the beating of my heart as their drumbeat. And the drumming in my head grew louder and louder with each step that I took until I fell and stumbled feeling cuts across legs and the palms of my hands. Scratches in which the crimson plasma pours from but bothered me no longer.

I had held it in for so long, but now they had set the beast inside of me running free. For my flesh had turned to fur as my paws beat the hallow’d ground that shook with tremors as I ran like prey from the hunter. Yet there was no escaping even whether or not I managed to fly free. The Capital, these Gamemakers were the Predators. Augustus’ words finally made sense to me.

There is no more holding back. I’m ready to attack with every fiber and being in my body. These fellow tributes of mine are nothing less than the animal I am. They have no pain, no feeling, no remorse. They’re animals, small and weak and simple minded just as I am. 

And at last the rumbles and shaking stop. I stagger to get my footing. Behind and in front of me are large holes in the ground. Logan and Larka are missing. They could be anywhere now. Perhaps they fell into one of these cracks. Perhaps they are dead.

Larka, sweet and lovely, the Little Lark. No, she can’t be dead. No, neither can Logan, whose thought of death only makes wish I too were dead with the longing in my heart. 

A crack, a crunch of a fallen branch. Someone is here, and they will die at the hands of me. I’ll have their blood, ruby and thick, drip from my knife any cost. I turn towards it, knife braced in hand. It’s no longer a weapon, as I once saw it, but an extension of my arm. It feels a part of me just like any other piece of me. I’m ready to cut, to kill. But no.

Because it’s Logan, torn and cut and wide eyed like me like a doe caught in the headlights. I drop my left hand down to my side because I’m aware that it’s a weapon. I open my mouth to speak, but no words can come out. No words could justify anything that has happen. Instead I take a step forward towards him, but my head is swimming and I collapse at his feet, tears streaming from my eyes mixing with the dirt and blood on my face reminding me what it means to be human.

But he does not leave me there. Instead he lifts me up and wraps me in his arms, carrying me like the small child I feel I am. He supports me when I know he can barely support himself, and with the slightest touch he makes me feel like my skin is on fire. Not fur, but skin. And for that, I cup his face with my hands. Hands meant for feeling and touching and living, but instead cut and clattered with dried blood and mud. And I bring him forward until I can see into his eyes, and yes. I’m sure as it’s always been.

And our lips are touching, the pattern of his breaking against mine and mine coming back strong and longingly having done what we wanted to do that night but too fearful to do so. Here in the face of death does my tongue graze the inside of his lip before I have to pull away. No words. Not one because we both know. We know. 

I bury my head into the curve of his shoulder and neck as he cradles me in his arms. And we walk because in front of us is our first and last salvation.

The Cornucopia.