#jared luminel

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Congratulations Jared! Your fellow tributes voted you for having “Lasted Longer Than Expected” in the arena.

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jared…

district : five

private training : seven

kills : one

weapon : sword

theme song : royalty by mali music

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After the slaughter of three children, the remaining two tributes are injured beyond belief and descend the stairs presented to them. That night of rest is valuable to them, and on the wall of their holding-cell appears to be a hologram television for them to view the fallen clips that they are very used to by now.

5th - Jared Luminel, killed by Seraph Sinclair.

4th - Lola Liu, killed by Apricot Thompson.

3rd - Apricot Thompson, killed by Everest McKinley.

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When he woke up, Jared quickly gathered his belongings and started walking. There was no way to turn back. All he could do was move forward. To where? He didn’t know. During his walk, he constructed a noose with the rope around his waist to pass the time. The hallway seemed almost endless until Jared finally reached a large room. He turned his head to the right, where his former ally stood. 

In the dark and cold, Seraph stirred and awoke with the shapes of torchlight burned through her eyelids, the light leaving a pattern similar to a flower in the incandescence and her vision. This was not her cave. She was still alone, but the isolation felt different. Before, it was open and free, reeking of independence and self-sufficiency. The isolation of this hallway bore down on the shoulders of its occupant, gnawed at bone and pressed against skin. It could be addicting in self-destructive scenarios. The walls were imposing, seemed to gaze down with a hard stare.

We see you

Seraph rose to her feet and walked down the corridor with machete in hand, something that was second nature. Her footsteps echoed and she sensed she had been swallowed by a great beast and was walking through its cavernous interior, like that old Bible story her mother had told her once. 

The hallway’s draft become stronger and stronger, audible enough to bounce around the confining walls. An opening in the wall is ahead, leading into a simple room. Television set. Sink. Table. And one more thing. Jared. Standing across the room, emerging from the opposite wall. The hallway seals behind him with the sound of scraping stone. The same noise goes off behind Seraph and she can only assume her exit is obstructed as well. In the dim light, something glittered on Jared’s finger. Seraph had never really noticed the ring on his finger before, the one that must have been his token. It was ironic, compared to hers. A gold crown gilded with crystals versus a band of grey iron. A prince and a serf, brought down to a level playing field. 

“There you are.” He sounded so relieved. “I was hoping to run into you again. I guess being a traitor is just in your blood, huh?”

Seraph said nothing as she pulled her machete from the rope around her waist, held it at the ready.

Jared sneered, mimicking her actions and wielding his sword at the ready. “Fucking rebel scum,” he spat. “Surprised you didn’t slit my throat in the night, you filthy little rat.”

This was expected. The anti-rebellion slurs, the politically driven resentment. Those things held no relevance in the arena. Allegiances outside the game were to be left outside the game. Seraph had convinced herself of this at the beginning. But it pinched a nerve in her.

Rebel scum.

While Jared sat high and mighty on his broken throne, he was blissfully oblivious to all the torment he had been supporting. Now, he was face to face with evidence of the destruction people like him had caused. If he was going to die, Seraph wouldn’t let him die ignorant. Equal punishment to equal crime. After all, he was just like the rest of them. Too busy with their own luxurious stories to care about the repercussions of their actions. But this was Seraph’s story now. And Jared, he was disrupting the narrative.

Eyes met. The air was still. Then machete met sword in a clash of steel and diamond.

Of course he would be the first to attack. Seraph smirked at the expected move and brought her machete up to come clashing with Jared’s longsword. Sparks flew as their blades collided with each other. The redhead then aimed the scorpion stinger to Jared’s arm, but he swayed to the side and it pricked his abdominal area instead, which was protected by the breastplate. Unable to penetrate through solid diamond and to her opponent’s fatal internal organs, Seraph glared. She took advantage of the blonde’s arrogance, however, and sliced his arm with the machete. 

The royal hissed as his wound was reopened. Jared kicked Seraph down to the ground and jumped to avoid the scorpion stinger which she intended to drive to his leg. His training at the gymnastics stations enabled him to leap pretty high. Jared’s foot then collided with Seraph’s face, mere seconds before he reached the ground, sending her soaring backwards onto the table behind her. The wood collapsed under the force, splinters upon splinters. He stabbed at her with the sword, narrowly missing her when she rolled over. Her back was exposed. Jared acted quickly.

Diamond broke her skin, a long gash trailing up her spine, tearing at her nerves. Her silence broke as she cried out, dropped her machete, gasping at the pain. Jared smirked, crouched down over her. His hands closed around her windpipe, his muscles shaking with the force. He wanted to kill her like this, with his own hands. Air halted and stalled in Seraph’s lungs, cut off with nowhere to go. Her hand clawed at his, prying away, a desperate attempt for him to release her. She could feel every degree of oxygen being wrung from her, the sound of blood rushing to her head almost deafening. Using all of her strength, Seraph thrusted upward, causing Jared to loosen his grip on the girl, but only slightly. This was all she needed, however, for a second after, she had managed to punch him in the face, causing him to topple off of her.

Air filled Seraph’s lungs in massive gasps, trying to take in as much as she had lost. As she regained her composure, Seraph was shocked to feel what felt like rope wrapping around her foot. 

Successfully lassoing Seraph’s foot, Jared yanked the redhead back to him, only to be punched in the face a second time. Blood dripped from his nose. The royal growled and swung his weapon down on her right shoulder, assaulting a wounded limb from her previous fight. A sharp crack could be heard, but Seraph didn’t even groan. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean the pain wasn’t present. While she was in agony, Jared took the opportunity to elbow her back, causing Seraph to fall face first on the ground. He then quickly tied her feet together and chopped off the excess rope with his longsword. 

Then another punch to her face. Seraph fell to her side, unable to get up properly due to the rope that bound her feet together. She looked up to see Jared making his way over to the machete.

Ratsis had been smart back in the cave. He’d given her an idea. And she was going to put it to use. 

Three throwing knives were stored up her sleeve along her wrist and she ran a thumb along one, edged it into her hand, and then quickly closed the distance between herself and Jared. The blade sliced clean through the soft flesh of his cheek, a crooked grin reaching back to his jaw. The pressure from her throat gave up all at once as his hands flew to his marred face, a cry ripping out of his throat in pain. Air filled Seraph’s lungs in massive gasps, trying to take in as much as she had lost. She struggled to her feet and yanked Jared up by the collar, flinging him towards the television. He collided with the screen head first, the glass shattering, sparks flying. She pulled him back out of the set only to throw him back to the ground. Glass stuck his skin and blood poured from his half-Glasgow smile. 

“Y-you can’t do this to a king!” Jared said, panic evident in his high-pitched voice. 

Seraph simply shook her head at the pathetic sight. One time she saw Jared look up into the sky and chant Panem’s national anthem when the Fallen were posted. It was like he worshiped those pigs in the Capitol and treated them as if they were Gods. Seraph hated loyalists like him. She was glad she could finally end Jared. Beneath her, he was nothing. Helpless and under her mercy. “King or not, that so called crown on your head will be the reason you die.” 

Jared coughed up blood like there was no tomorrow, his face was basically getting smashed in, like how Everest killed Charlie, but much slowly and more agonizing. Seraph’s words played in his head. “Crown… kill…” That was when the idea hit him. Jared took his token off his thumb and managed to free one of his arms. With one quick stabbing motion, he jabbed Seraph’s nose with the ring. The pointed tip penetrated through the thin layer of skin and to her nasal bone. Jared thought fast, knowing Seraph would be quick to react. He remembered how someone got out of a similar situation during training. Ratsis. Either his concussion was getting worse, or Jared could actually hear his voice again.

Grow some balls, your majesty!

Before he could make his next move, however, Seraph had taken him by the collar and tossed him violently to the ground. Then, she placed a foot on his ribcage, pressed down hard enough that she could feel the bones bending, ready to snap. Jared screamed, the sound strangled and wet with his disfigured cheek. Seraph picked up her machete then cocked her head at the boy. “This hurts you. Can tell you have never experienced pain like this before. Too busy cooped up with your riches to see the face of war. But you can see it now. Focus, right here. Right here.” Jared’s eyes stayed shut, screwed up in agony. Seraph’s heel pressed down harder, his ribs cracking underneath the pressure. Jared screamed as his fingers were ground in fragments. 

“Look at me.”

Jared’s watering eyes met Seraph’s, paper against steel. He panted, trembling with panic. “Stop! Stop it! Please!”

“Stop begging. Are you a prince or a dog?” Seraph stepped off of his ribcage, instead yanking the boy up by his collar and slamming his back against the wall, pinning him there with her upper left arm. With her right arm, she brought the machete up to his throat, the flat of it facing upwards so the sharp edge was hovering a small fraction from his skin. Her face was so close to his she could feel his ragged breathing against her cheeks. “This is the face of vengeance. You are going to look at me. I will be the last thing you see.”

He did look at her. His expression was soft, like a therapist’s attempt at consoling an agitated patient, somebody trying to calm a rabid dog. Trying to negotiate. Looking into the face of his opposite, Jared pleaded once more. “Seraph, you don’t need to do this. I’ll give you anything. I swear, I will always be in your debt if you just let me go. Seraph…” 

Her name on his tongue. He was unworthy of speaking that name. There was a harshness, a disgust that poured into her skull upon hearing him say that. You could cut open her head and it would spill onto the floor, dark and acidic, eat it’s way through the cement beneath their feet. 

Seraph’s breathing was erratic. Fast and shallow. She spoke. “Men get mercy… Dogs gets put down.”

The machete was thrust forward, through muscle and spine until it severed Jared’s head from his body and completely and met the concrete wall. The impact of the execution was felt by the thunder of a cannon. His body crumpled to the ground in a heap, his head still balanced on the flat of the machete. Beheaded. Like a disobedient royal at the guillotine. Seraph brought her machete back and let his head fall to the ground, roll to its side before falling still. His eyes no longer looked at her, but they had in their last moments of life. His blood coated her machete and she looked at it with distaste, wiping the crimson off onto his uniform. Seraph spat on his corpse, disgusted, then turned on her heel. The sink shifted with a series of low concussions, disappearing to reveal a shear of dim light that bled from a descending hall of steps.

Alone once again. That was how it always was. In the end, she always wound up alone. She turned back and studied the collapsed scene. Detritus left of the television and table. Shapes of drying of blood like ink blots in a Rorschach test. A body without a head, the latter dropped on the floor with blank eyes staring forward like headlights. All of the mess caused by Seraph. Freeze on this frame. Now call down your dark and your cold and grey and be damned. 

Bleeding, injured, alone, and alive, Seraph descended down the stairs.

[acapitolpunishment-blog]

A sponsor gift falls lazily from the sky and lands in front of Jared. Inside is a 3 oz. tube of antiseptic, 2 rolls of medical bandages, and a pack of 10 matches. There is also a note.

“Note: “Give ‘em hell, sir.” -Cyrus.

[acapitolpunishment-blog]

Jared and Everest vs. Charles

Like ash falling from the sky after the war, snow eerily and silently fell on the site of what would be another act of bloodshed.  Two opposing forces, as contrasting as bold crimson spilled on powdery white, would engage in their own act of war in a matter of seconds.  

“Is this arctic tundra really better than our place in the desert?”  Jared muttered with a sigh.  “At least there, we didn’t have to worry about keeping warm”  

Seraph rolled her eyes at the clattering teeth of the District Five boy.  “If you want to go back and get molested by those sand hands, then by all means.  I’m going to scout out a place to find shelter.  You two make yourselves useful and find some firewood.”

Seraph made her departure as Jared shook his head.  “Come on, Everest.  Let’s go look for logs.”  He stared inquisitively at the tribute, not at all bothered by the weather.  “How exactly are you not freezing right now?”

“Cold good.”  Everest grunted.

“You never cease to impress me.”  Jared lackadaisically commented.  Though that carefree nature would soon vanish upon the sight of a silhouette across the forest.  The sight of Charlie surprised him, but it was the sight of blood covering the supposedly pacifist tribute that shook him to his core, chilling his spine colder than the frigid air around them.  All sense of trust was shattered like a broken mirror, and no matter how hard one tried to put the pieces back together, the cracks of wariness would be forever seen upon the looking glass.

“Everest.”  Jared said in a hush.  “Keep down and keep quiet, we’ve got company.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck is right.  Sit tight while I think of a plan.”  The image of Charlie’s scowl, brought on by the anger of Pearl’s death let all of Jared’s inhibitions bubble to the surface.  This wasn’t the boy he bonded with in training.  

Though the last thing Jared wanted to do was to hurt Charlie, it seemed like he was alone in that demeanor.  He shakily searched through his contents, pulling out a long length of rope.  “Hand me your mace,” he whispered.  Despite being used to giving orders after having served as Mayor of his district, Jared felt uncomfortable giving demands to the hulking brute next to him.  But when comparing the top of a graduating class to the top of a mountain dweller, there wasn’t much consideration.  

Jared handed the mace back to Everest, now looped to a good length of rope. “Wrap this around your waist, and swing it if he gets too far away.”  Everest nodded and took hold of the meteor hammer, doing as instructed.  “And take this too,” Jared suggested as he handed him Seraph’s machete.  Everest gave a few practice swings and stood patiently, waiting for Jared’s next cue.  

They huddled behind a tree and out of sight, looking around for any elements of nature to aid them in combat.  Jared collected a handful of decently-sized rocks for Everest’s pack whilst grabbing fallen icicles to shove in his pockets.  He nervously packed together a few snowballs as he peered through the binoculars, seeing Charlie had spotted them as well.  

There was no point in hiding any longer, Jared strapped Seraph’s goggles over his eyes and stepped out of the trees, clutching his sword with trepidation.  

“Did you do it?”  Charlie proposed.  

“Did I–”

He repeated louder, almost screaming, “Did you do it?!”  Small birds flew out from the trees at the booming voice.  

“Did I what?!”  Jared called back.  

“I saw the night sky and the fallen tributes’ faces!  You killed Pearl, didn’t you?!”  

Jared flashed a wildly confused expression.  “I haven’t even seen her since the bloodbath!  What’s wrong with you?!”  There was a manic spark in Charlie’s eye, one Jared had never seen in him before.  However the accusations from the blood-covered tribute triggered a thought in his head.  “How do I know you didn’t?”

There was an eerie pause.  “Beg pardon?  When have I ever shown a glimpse of violence in training?”

“Well that blood all over you says otherwise.”  

Charlie chuckled then snarled.  “This blood is from a pack of wolves, but you and your friend are about to join them!”

Everest had been on edge ever since the screaming match started, but upon hearing Charlie take a step forward and pull out his sword, he sprung into action, labeling Charlie as a predator that needed to be taken out for his own survival.  

“Everest, wait!”  Jared called out, but the blindingly fast tribute had already closed the gap.  With a leaping slice, Everest pounded his machete down right as Charlie brought his sword up.  Pushing his hand against the dull side of the blade, Everest shoved Charlie down to his knees, still keeping his sword locked with the machete.  An overt amount of force drove the machete scraping against the sword, sending sparks out before sinking into Charlie’s shoulder.  Charlie’s sword dropped as well, cutting into Everest’s upper arm.  

Charlie’s grip quivered as streams of blood poured down his arm, dotting the snow beneath his feet.  Everest reached down for the dropped machete, unaware of Charlie attempting to bring the longsword down on his neck.  

“Don’t!”  Jared shouted as he raised his shield up.  Though the rudimentary shield made for a decent defense, the sword still managed to shatter the top half of it.  Jared suddenly found himself lunging forward, sticking his own sword through Charlie’s gut.  

Charlie reeled back, clenching his abdomen with a manic gaze and dragged the sword behind him as he sprinted forward.  Jared flinched as he held the shield up again, feeling the sword pierce through and catch him in the wrist.  Jared let out a curse, alerting his partner who had a rock in each hand.  A heavy toss sent the first rock completely past the intended target, but the second smacked straight into Charlie’s jaw.  

The frustration in Charlie started to climb quickly, annoyed that no matter where he turned, the other would strike.  The District 1 boy played defensively as the two closed in on him, before yelling and spinning the sword in a circle, catching both Everest and Jared in the chest with a deep gash.  

Jared reeled on the frozen floor, but Everest sprang up quickly, with a feral adrenaline pumping through him.  He unraveled the meteor hammer and began swinging it over his head before bashing the spiked mace into Charlie’s knee.  The tribute from District 1 screeched as he felt his kneecap burst into splinters.  Though weary from his injuries, he managed to duck under the next few swings of Everest’s weapon, ultimately leaving himself exposed to Jared’s next assault.  

Though the snowballs pelted at Charlie were hardly fatal, they served as an effective distraction for Everest to smash Charlie with the hammer in the face, breaking his eye socket and piercing the organ.  Charlie brought his hand up to his bleeding eye, holding his sword up in a desperate attempt at defense, only to have it knocked out of his hands with another strike of the meteor hammer.  As Everest rushed forward to finish him off, Charlie rolled to the ground and grabbed the sword and raised it up in one smooth motion.  Jared managed to spot Charlie’s sword arc down in time to warn Everest.  

“Block!”  Jared called out in a panic.  Everest’s eyes widened at hearing his ally’s warning, shifting his position quickly as he held the chain of the mace taught in front of him.  Everest flinched as he felt the force of Charlie’s sword crack through part of the chains but hover above his head.  Charlie lifted the sword back and hammered it down again, splitting through the chains and cutting down into Everest’s armor.  Only a slight gash opened on his shoulder, but it was enough for him to hop back, right onto the dropped machete.  Instinctively, he rolled and grabbed the weapon, chopping into Charlie’s thigh.  The boy moaned in agony as he felt the blade knock against his bone with a sharp pang, swinging wildly at Everest.  The feral tribute caught the broad side of the sword against the side of his head and fell back to the ground in a daze.

Before Jared could rush in and finish Charlie off, the half-dead tribute limped off through the woods and behind the trees.  “Everest, get up!”  Jared shouted as she shook the tribute out of his trance.  He grabbed a handful of snow and slapped him across, the face, but Everest was still out of it.  “Dammit.”  Jared seethed and looked through his binoculars, finding Charlie’s body heat instantly.  Hunched over and clearly on the brink of the edge, Jared groaned and followed the path of blood towards Charlie.  

Out of clear desperation, Charlie hurled a rock in Jared’s direction, hitting the tree behind him as he ducked.  Icicles rained down from above, peppering the ground around the two tributes.  Charlie lashed forward and drove an icicle partially into Jared’s shoulder before snapping it off.  Jared cringed and grabbed the empty syringe, poking three deep holes into Charlie’s neck before the boy threw him over his shoulders and into a nearby prickly bush.  Jared writhed in the annoyingly sharp thorns and pulled his sword out just as Charlie brought his down onto him.  

“I’m surprised you of all people would be so quick to let these games change you.”  Jared spat out.  

“Tell that to the bastard that killed Pearl!  I’m just trying to survive!”

“And I’m not?!”

Charlie looked down for a second as he kept his grip tight on the sword.  “Yeah well you and your guard dog over there don’t give off such a friendly vibe.”

“Everest is just trying to survive too.  You knew people would die in here, why are you acting so shocked?”  Jared proposed.  

Charlie loosened his grip on the sword and plopped on the ground.  “I just want to go home.”  Charlie mumbled as a tear dropped out of the one working eye he still had.  “I’m not a killer.”

Though Jared wished he could say the same thing, he thought of his district partner, Astrid, and how her blood was on his hands.  But Charlie didn’t need to know that.  “None of us are.”  Jared said as he sheathed the sword.  “If you want to come with us, Seraph is out looking for shelter.  I’m sure she can be reasoned with.”

“And Everest?”  Charlie softly asked.

“He may seem ignorant, but with patience he can be reasoned with.  Right Everest?”  Jared looked back, his stomach dropping upon seeing his ally and the mace head missing.

Charlie leaned out curiously, he too unaware of Everest’s location.  But both tributes quickly learned where Everest had gone as he sailed in from the sky above.  Jared was shocked, having not even heard him climb a nearby tree.  Everest leapt from the sturdy branch and landed with a harsh thud right on top of Charlie.  The pain was quick, extreme, and suddenly gone as Everest’s burly body broke nearly every bone and his spine in one heavy landing.  Though it caused Everest a bit of pain as well, he fought through and raised the mace head up in his clenched hand.  

“No!”  Jared shouted painfully through a choked sob.  But the former mayor knew there was no use, the cracking of Charlie’s bones were loud enough for even Seraph to hear.  Charlie’s expression of shock soon was reduced to nothing as Everest pummeled the mace into his face again and again.  Though bits of brain and bone flew out as the cannon fired, Everest continued smashing until there was practically nothing there.  “Dammit stop!”  Jared cried out as he pulled back on Everest’s hand.  

Refusing to let go, Jared’s grip tightened and began to hurt Everest.  He turned towards Jared in a strange confusion, easily tossing Jared to the side.  Puzzled as to why his ally was trying to hurt him, he stood with a hunch and a feral snarl.  “Charlie was right, you’re just a rabid guard dog!”  Jared yelled.  “You fucking moron, he was going to help us!”  

There were very few words Everest understood, but there was one that panged a sense of familiarity in him as Jared said it.  Having been called a ‘moron’ plenty of times before, Everest now realized Jared was among those that thought next to nothing of him.  Though he could easily break the tribute’s face with a simple punch, he turned and walked away from Jared slowly, clutching his wounds.  

Jared threw his sword in frustration and looked in desperation at the bloody mess that used to be Charlie.  Although there was a pulpy mess of tissue and blood in front of him, a perfectly intact and separated eyeball stared back at Jared with a gaze as cold as the ground he began to sob upon.  

And still the snow fell like the ashes of war, silent remnants from the deafening screams of bloodshed.  

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After fleeing the house and walking back into the warm desert, three small parachutes float down to greet the trio of Everest, Seraph and Jared. Inside each are syringes of a universal antidote, with no attached note.

[acapitolpunishment-blog]

As he walks onward through the forest with his alliance, Jared notices a golden colored backpack descending from the treetops with a parachute attached to it. Inside is a single loaf of bread and a single sleeping bag. There is also a note.

 “Royals need their comfort. - Glitz & Glam”