#logantask

[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.

[loganbaxwoll-blog]

A Little Bit of Running all Night Long, A Little Bit of Food is All I Need - (Part 2) | Logan

"What the fuck! I repeat. What. The. Fuck!"

A few minutes ago, Logan had stepped foot in the Jungle. It was still dark, but as far as his eyes could see, he was surrounded by dark, tall figures, that looked like trees. Having already passed hanging vines, he knew plants and berries had to have been here. It made him overjoyed, even smiled widely for the first time since he entered the Arena. But as he moved around the area, he kept hearing rustling. Rustling turned into laughter and rustling. As Logan listened more closely, the laughter sounded more like screeching. He took a few more steps and then stopped. He stood still, only moving his eyes and head to see if a tribute was approaching him. When he stopped turning and focused his attention on something in the distance coming towards him, it wasn't a tribute. He couldn't see what it was until the creatures were feet away from him.

They were something equivalent to monkeys.

With wings.

Flying.

Yellow eyed.

Blue Monkeys.

And they could fly faster than the trains of District Six, and easily run as fast or faster than Logan, himself.

These were the creatures Logan had been dealing with, since he arrived.

He could hear them screech in his ear, as some of the monkeys now ran next to him, while the rest flew above and beside him. " Nice monkey muttations," he started nervously, glancing at all of the monkeys surrounding him, " nice killing...ugly monkey muttations!" One of the running monkeys screeched at him. Shouldn't have said that.

The running monkey that had just screeched at him, jumped and grabbed hold of his right leg. It's claws wrapped around it as the creature hugged it tightly, baring it's teeth to bite down into his leg. Logan tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't let go. Then, the monkey flying above his head, landed on his head. Logan used his small knife to slash the monkey's back, holding onto his leg. The monkey let go and rolled past the other running monkeys, by his side.

The monkey on his head was able to stay there by using it's claws to clench onto the top of Logan's head. Logan used his other hand to try and pull the monkey off his head, but he misjudged how the monkey was sitting on his head. Pulling it off, the monkey managed to scrape three long cuts onto the top right side of his head. He felt a sharp pain as he pulled the monkey, off. He hadn't known the damage, but feeling no blood trickle down the back of his neck, he guessed the skin just opened up and blood hadn't fallen out. Yet.

He threw the monkey back, behind him, as another flying monkey flew in front of him, and used one of it's claws to slash at his left cheek. Logan's head turned, as if he'd been slapped, blood starting to fall from this injury. Logan used his knife to stab the monkey, but it was too quick, and flew over him this time. Logan tripped over something on the ground and his body tumbled forward until his back hit a thick branch and stopped his movement.

It took a few seconds for Logan to come back from the sudden hit, and notice all of the monkeys, running or flying towards him, ready to kill him. He raised his knife, forcing himself to defend himself. With his injuries and now weak body, Logan thought this was it. He wasn't going to be able to kill all of the monkey muttations. They were too fast and he was outnumbered. But he kept his knife raised anyway, more than willing to take a few down with him, if he could. " Come on," he said, quietly. " COME ON!"  he shouted, as they were a few inches from him.

Just as they all came in to attack at once, there was another sudden sound. 

All of the monkey muttations stopped, beside and in front of Logan. He looked at the creatures and he had seen they had turned thier attention to another direction. He looked their same direction. He saw nothing. But he did hear sounds coming from the same direction. He just couldn't make out who or what it was they were reacting too. One of the monkey's screeched, and suddenly, they all followed towards the sounds they heard. Logan still had his knife raised, as if they would come back. But when they didn't, he sighed and let his entire body relax as he lied on the ground.

He wasn't sure what made them react. Another tribute? Sounds in general? Whatever it was, he couldn't hear their rustling, anymore. He wanted to get up and move, but he was exhausted. He was still hungry and he barely had any energy left to do anything. He forced his heavy eyelids to stay open, to avoid the nightmares. He decided, since he could barely move, to use this time to grab the attention of his sponsors and ask for a sponsor gift. He wasn't sure which would be more helpful: water or food, so he asked for the one that first came to mind.

"Food," he said quietly, looking up into the sky, not looking for any particular camera. He felt like he just had to voice it loud enough. He gulped, feeling nothing in his dry throat and repeated: " Food!" but louder this time.

[loganbaxwoll-blog]

A Little Bit of Running all Night Long, A Little Bit of Food is All I Need - (Part 1) | Logan

After he mourned Irma's death, Logan got back up on his feet. He was wide awake now. Even if he desperately needed a few more hours of sleep, he never wanted to shut his eyes ever again. He knew if he did, Irma would be the center of his nightmares. He'd try to remember the good memories with her, but he had no doubt that nightmares surrounding her death, would follow.

It was dark, but his small pack was close enough to his body to see. He moved his arms through the straps of the pack, so it hung from his shoulders. He did his best to cover his tracks by taking apart his shelter and placing the bushes back where they belonged, kicking dirt over the holes dug. He left the berries marks on the ground. He wasn't coming back to the floating islands. He planned to move on the morning of Day Two, but since he was afraid of what sleeping would bring him, he decided to move at night.

Logan worked his legs since the bloodbath, and since he was restless and hungry for so long, it started to take a toll on his body. He carefully made his way across the next rickety bridge as quickly as he could, but Logan knew he wasn't moving as fast as he was used to. He didn't look very happy to make it to the last floating island, but he was. He started to turn, looking for any edible plants or berries he could eat, when he saw a glimpse of light, floating in the air.

He turned back to see he hadn't imagined it. It really was a light, floating in the air. Logan was drawn to it. He slowly walked towards it, then stopped, waiting for it to meet him on the floating island. To Logan, it looked like something that could be found in the sea of District Four. Irma. He wanted to turn his back on it, when he thought of her. But he thought of using the light, to better see the plants and berries on the island. He didn't want to waste his matches doing that. When the light reached the island, Logan stretched out his arm to touch it, before he could see behind it that the single light wasn't alone.

Logan lowered his arm and jumped back. As they spread from behind the first light, Logan panicked and started counting how many there were, with his eyes. He didn't know what to do now, but when he could see them all, he could see the lights start to float faster, towards him. He didn't have much time to think as the first light was nearing his body, so he decided to do what he knew best:run.

He wasn't as careful, rushing through the rickety bridge that lead downward. One of the planks broke off just as stepped off the plank, making his body stagger, before making himself stop so he could regain his balance. He lost time when he stopped, and the floating lights easily caught up with him. Logan started to jog now, not paying attention to the planks below his feet. Another plank fell below his right foot and his leg would've fallen all the way through, if he hadn't planted his left foot down and grabbed the hold of the sides of the bridge in time.

The lights had reached him, as he slowly tried to pull himself up onto the bridge. As he made his way up, one of the creatures attached itself to his neck. Logan shouted out in pain and gripped the sides of the bridge, as it's body stung like fire. When he made it back on the bridge, he immediately brought his small knife down on the small enclosed area of creature, ripping it out, and watching the small creature fall from his neck. The others followed after all other parts of his body, but Logan was on the move again.

He was able to keep a little distance between the lights and himself, for the rest of the bridge jog. When he made it to the end, he raised his knife, ready to attack, but the creatures just turned away from him, going back the way he came. It was when the first light attacked him, did he realize they were mutts, and for some reason, they couldn't go passed that point. Logan sighed in relief and used the reflection off his small knife as a mirror, to see the damage done. He couldn't see much, but he was burned on the side of his neck. Logan sighed at the damage, and frowned when he almost dropped his knife. His body was weak. He needed something in his stomach. Anything.

Logan turned around in the darkness. Maybe the place he was standing in now had an all-you-can-eat edible plants and berries, buffet.

[loganbaxwoll-blog]

No Rest for the Logan | Day One - Arena

He made it. Logan Baxwoll of District 6 made it passed the Bloodbath. He was still focusing on his breathing on the outside, but he was smiling on the inside. Logan could take as many small battles won in the Arena, as he could get.

Closing his eyes, he realized that his uneven breathing could've easily been fixed with water. He suddenly opened his eyes and started rummaging through his small pack. He dumped the contents of the bag out, and sat looking at: two matches, a plastic sheet, and a water bottle. His eyes lit up at the sight of the bottle. He quickly loosened the top and brought the water bottle to his lips. Tilting it upward so he could feel the water, rush through his throat. When nothing came out, he stared at it, then turned it upside down to see nothing was in the bottle. " Shit!" he quietly cursed, throwing the bottle at the pack.

He got to his feet and walked towards the edge. He stopped short, looking out at the floating islands. From the number of islands he set foot on, all of them were floating. Their cliffs and rocky bottoms were extraordinary, but deadly for any tribute on top of them. He already glanced down at the bottom while running, and he knew. Any tribute that fell from that height would be lucky if they died, in the air. Logan wasn’t going to stay long. He decided he’d stay for a day, build some kind of shelter, keep himself hidden, then be on his way. There was nothing behind him, but there was another bridge on the next island that led downward. Logan hoped it would lead him to the ground but, whether it did or not, he was going to take that chance.

Logan spent the rest of the day surveying the island and preparing himself. The berries on the island were poisonous, which frustrated him as much as the empty water bottle. He threw one of the berries at one of the trees, and the juices inside the berry trailed down the wood. The juices gave him an idea. He collected a handful of the berries. He walked a distance away from the cliffs, but just enough to see where the land, cut off. Using his hands, he marked where the most dangerous cut offs of land by placing a few berries down on the ground and smashing them with his hand. When he was done, one of his hands were a bluish purple. The clean up was messy, and a little gross for the viewers, as he used saliva from spitting and a leaf to wipe of any trace of the berries on his hand.

There were bushes on higher ground that he used for shelter. He walked around, breaking off the branches of where the bushes grew out from, with his boots. He used his knife to cut a small holes in the ground and push the bushes’ branches down in them, until they stood up. It wasn’t anything special, not prepared enough to be perfect shelter, but enough to keep his entire body hidden while lying down.

He took frequent naps throughout the day, to keep his mind off his hunger. He’d never gone a day without something in his stomach, even if it was just water. He would go to sleep, hungry, just to wake up to a few free minutes, before the hunger kicked in again. He finally called it a day, collecting his materials. The contents on the small pack went back inside it. The wire inside one of his pants pockets, and the knife in his hand. He settled into his small shelter, surrounded by bushes on all sides of his body, while he stared up at the sky. He turned his body and cut a small hole through the bushes, so he could see if any other tributes came along on the island. Lying back on his back, he sighed, before he fell into a deep sleep that lasted several hours, before the anthem of the Capitol woke him up again.

He woke up, startled, at the sound of the anthem. He raised half way up, with his knife in hand, looking around, until he looked up to the sky. He lowered his weapon and watched the faces and names of those who had fallen during the Bloodbath. He counted six deaths, which included Ismene. He wasn’t friends with her, but still felt saddened. He knew the Mayor would be mourning the death of another one of his daughters, but he was just happy he didn’t have to be the one who killed her. When the anthem ended, Logan knew Rowan, Irma, and Larka were still alive. That was good. Apart of him thought he could’ve been good friends with them, if they all lived in the same district.

He lied down on his back again, placing his knife clenching fist on his stomach. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep past the sounds of the island at night.