With Dawn quickly approaching, and wanting the cover of darkness while inspect the surrounding area, Flora stood, brushing the sand from her arms and legs. It was now that she was glad she had directed her boat to the further side of the Island. It would give her time. To do what? The thought struck her and she was momentarily confused as to just what the answer was. Prepare? For what? She already knew she was going to kill who ever came her way. It was only a matter of hours, maybe less. It was then that her thoughts turned to him. Would Elliot be proud? Or would he hate her for everything she had done. He understood, that killing was necessary, part of the games. But he also had the respect for the Fallen she never did. All it took was one thought of Pate and her snide remark to tell her that she had been cruel. The boy had been shown no mercy. And it was her ability to still have any compassion that had made Elliot believe in her. For lack of a better girl, would he hate her? "What would you think of me now?"
"Shut up!" the angry shout was directed to no one but herself. For now she was alone, and it was in these moments when victory was tantalizingly close that she found her ability to ignore the boy who had kept her strong slipping. Grabbing the pack, she looked at the sand around her. It had little in terms of supplies but there were at least no vines weaving across the floor. As she scanned the near by area she saw the collection of stones by a tree. Curious, Flora stepped closer realising that the 'stones' she had seen were in fact coconuts. Picking a few up she smiled. Weapon, food and drink all in one. Tucking a few into her pack, Flora was careful to save them for a time when she would need them more. So far the island seemed small, but she had no doubt that if someone could get here, then they could also go back and then it would be back to hunting once more.
Now with the light returning, and the earlier drizzle of rain getting heavier, Flora realised that soon she night not be alone. Walking back to the water, where her boat sat on the sand she cast a careful glance around before climbing in. Keeping the pack on one shoulder, her Urumi still in her hand, Flora ducked as far down as she could. Staying out of sight took priority now. Getting the upper hand on anyone who came past would mean that killing them would be that much easier. All it would take was one hit, well timed and precise and her fellow tribute would be down, dead or dying in less than a minute. This time she didn't smile at the thought, instead she laughed. She was so close. By the time the day was over she would be going home, as a victor. Finally, she'd be worth something to her family.
Her old life had gotten better when she met Elliot.
But her new life would begin the moment that final canon fired.
She heard the canons. Each one making her stop and smile for a moment. Most would see it as twisted. But she could only see it as the end to a part of her life that she was all to ready and willing to put behind her. Victory was close, practically guaranteed and she was already thinking of the journey home. What she would say, how it would be to finally see a look of pride in her parents faces. A look of respect that was for her. She could and would have the affection of a District, and the respect of her tormentors. Years of pain, of endurance. All of it would be worth while when she won. It had to be worth it. That was why she had done this. Why she never let herself care. Having a conscience is what got people killed. Guilt is what left room for hesitation and heartache. It seemed only fitting that the phrase "Tis better to have loved and loss" came to mind at that moment. It was apt. But it made her stumble, not taking in the multitude of criss-crossing vines as much as she should.
Walking amongst the tree's, the cyclical nature of her surroundings began to irk her. Row after row of tree's that did nothing but make her feel like she was walking in circles. Her frustration building, the lack of sleep making her head ache from the repetitive sights she screamed, lashing out at the nearest trunk with her whip. Breathing hard, she looked at the chipped and slashed bark, seeing nothing but her own lack of control. Her brother wouldn't have done that. He would have stayed calm, carried on. Now she looked at the tree's, her eyes darting from each one, the resemblance doing nothing but making her anxious. She had to get out of there. Away from the forest, the vines. That same floor where she had so mercilessly spilled Pate's blood. In the place where she had seen Elliot die. It was all too much. It all reminded her of things she wanted to forget.
Turning away from the sound of the trembling, she walked with purpose. The water. There had been boats. She could get away from the Island. Away from the tree's that did nothing but bring her painful memories. Victory was so close, she couldn't stop now. Not when it all mattered most. Dying second was worse than dying 7th or 8th. It meant everyone would see. Everyone would remember. That no one would forget how she failed. No one remembered the early deaths, or the ones that nearly made it to the end. No. She had to win. There was no other way, dying wasn't an option, not for her. Her sister, her brothers, all of them had told her she would choke. That dying would be their victory. "At least you won't be around to drag the family name through the mud anymore."
The memory of her siblings words was enough to make her pace quicken. Now, running through the tree's she used what little light she had to navigate the uneven floor. In her haste, Flora took little care to keep her balance and upon seeing the tree's thinning up ahead tripped, falling to her knees on the floor.Stunned and momentarily confused, it took her a fee seconds to recognise the pain in her knees. Angry at her own clumsiness, she pushed herself up, not brother to brush the mud from her grazed shins. It was her thoughts of Elliot, of her own weakness and her emotions that had caused her to get distracted. That was why she had fallen. She couldn't let herself think of that. Elliot was dead, and her ability to love and hopes of being better had died with him.
Moving to the clearing up ahead, she realised where she was. The water that separated the two islands reflecting the low light of the moon. It was late. The heat from the sun having vanished along with the brilliant sunlight. It was cold and she found herself wishing she had found her way to shelter sooner. Looking along the shore and spotting the boats, Flora walked over, dumping her pack in the nearest and pushing it into the water. After seeing Tia, savaged and devoured, she would take no chances with the water. Turning, to look back at the tree's she watched as the tree's got further from her. It was then that she saw the billowing smoke and glowing red top of the volcano. Smiling despite her situation,she thought of the canons she had heard. Three more dead. That left her and two others? three? It didn't matter. Not really. She would kill them all if she had too. Killing seemed to be all she was good at after all.
When the boat came to a stop, hitting the sand, she grabbed her pack and jumped out. Crouching on the sand. It made sense to be cautious. She had seen more boats and there was no telling who else might be with her. When no immediate attack came, she stood, walking up from the shoreline to the thin cover up off of the sands. Now sat, out of view from approaching boats she let herself rest. It was a risk but it her exhaustion was too strong to deny. It wasn't until the nightmares came that she woke trembling. Taking deep breaths, pushing her hair away from her eyes she forced herself to sit up, whip at the ready. It had been a dream. Like always. But this time she had seen Elliot and it had terrified her more than any of her past nightmares. Sighing, she let herself relax. Sleep was no longer an option. All she had to do was wait. Soon enough they'd all be dead and she could go home. One night, one more time she would go through the tree's, hunting, tracking down whoever was left.
Standing at the sound of the canon, he sighed. Ava was gone. The girl who had been as close to him as a sister was no longer here and he could only blame himself. If he had only been quicker, maybe she would have been alright. It was his fault for not insisting she ally with Kalla and him, Ava had been dear to him and he had been far to quick to let her go off alone. Now, standing and taking in his position, he realised what running to her had meant. He knew that coming up here had been a risk, that he might have died as well. Though he was alive, he was stuck. The Lava now prevented him from traveling back the way he had come and that meant not returning to Kalla. His options were limited. Looking behind him, he could see the breaks in the lava that would allow him to make his way to the other side. But that would put further distance between them. With Kalla in mind, he shook his head, sitting back down. Axel would wait, until the lava cleared, or Kalla came. Or until he thought of another way out.
Night Two is being broken into two parts. Both equally painful. Inside the arena, no one is safe. Turn one corner and feel a false sense of relief when no one is there, but turn back and you're not alone. Be careful, out there.
This task is going to be sent individually. Please post this by 2 PM EST* on August 21. (Please note the changed time.) Also remember to tag the first post with #twrtask.
Pate had taken the watch for the night. It was obvious that it would be a boring task, but necessary in this world they now lived in. Tia refused to sleep without being near him, so there he sat in the fresh sunlight with her wrapped in his arms. It was nice to be close to her again. To feel her breathing against him, the gentle rise and fall of her chest was reassuring to him. With Tia knowing the complete story behind his lost limb he felt like he could trust her with everything, including his life. For once, everything seemed right with the world.
The day had been growing warmer and warmer with every rapid rise of sunlight. Pate had planned to let the others sleep longer if it wasn't for the swift movements that sounded a little too synthetic to be the wind rustling through the dense brush. "Tia," he whispered giving her hand a light squeeze. "Tia, get up I think someone's across the river." Now that he focused his attention, he could clearly see another tribute. At first Tia was reluctant to wake, but hearing the news of a visitor, she was quickly on her feet, grabbing her mace, and jumping into the water.
"Tia!" Pate reached for her hand and only grasped her fingertips for a brief moment before she was too far gone. There were reasons that he didn't trust the water, and he clearly had every right to. Before he knew it, Tia's entire figure was engulfed in a frenzy of horrific fish that teared and pulled at her flesh. The wounds began to spill blood all along the surface of the water, staining it with a crimson stain that would lie in Pate's memory forever. Her screams filled his ears and invaded his thoughts. There was no saving her now. Tia Monday had died and there was nothing Pate could do to save her.
Damn the tribute who crossed their path, damn them straight to hell where they belong. If it weren't for them Tia wouldn't have dove into the infested waters, and clearly wouldn't have died. He wanted to kill this tribute, get even with them for what they had done. But who was he to make such decisions? Pate was just a crippled boy who had no chance at survival. He was the one who couldn't save the person he cared for the most when she needed him. This would loom over Pate for the rest of his life, and this was only the beginning of the nightmares.
He watched as Morgan killed-- or stunned-- the fish right into their dazed sleep. But rather than use her own advantage, Ryan jumped into the lake next. Pate watched as one of his best friends jumped into the water and risked his life to find this tribute. During this time, Morgan had made her way closer to him. Her palm against his helped with the pain that froze him in his tracks now. "I'm sorry," she offered in a simple and quiet tone. He dropped his head for a moment, and rubbed his eyes to hide the tears that never existed. Pate nodded, words wouldn't satisfy the gratitude he felt for her in this moment. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, which only made his heart ache a little more. He remembered squeezing Tia's hand like that only moments before.
By the time Ryan had returned, the tribute had left. But they knew their location. They needed to get out of there and move. Before suggesting this himself, Morgan read his thoughts. “I think we should start walking,” she spoke softly while looking both Ryan and Pate in the eye. “The Career girl knows where we are, we’re not safe here anymore.” Behind her, Pate shoved himself to a standing position and muttered a small agreement. There wasn't much to grab, but Pate made sure he had his staff and was ready to fight when necessary. There wouldn't be any more casualties from this alliance. None. Pate would be sure of that.
Morning could be seen -- and felt. The heat increased as the sun insisted on rising. Morgan laid curled, still settled comfortably against Ryan's chest. She slowly raised her head, unsure if anyone had even guarded during the night. Morgan's slumber had been so heavy, she'd slept right through all arena announcements. But now she stood wide awake, giving Ryan several glances as her eyes adjusted to the light. Rubbing her eyes she sat up but immediately turned her head at the sound of nearby movement. She looked at the tributes resting on the ground, one clearly missing. More movement was noticed from her right, and at once, Morgan was on her feet. "Ryan, Rye, stand up," she whispered as her loud footsteps left a trail behind her. Soon, her whispers served no purpose as the screams of another took over the silence.
Her eyes scanned the scene as she approached the river, finally landing on a sinking Tia. The girl's hands flailed violently above the water before they disappeared entirely and in its place pooled a crimson hue. Morgan's eyes widened, her whole body tensed, and her skin went pale. A brief moment of beautiful, peaceful silence consumed her right before it was dramatically broken with a piercing shriek of terror fit for a demon baby escaped Morgan's lips. She stood momentarily frozen, screeching incoherent words as a loud cannon boomed over the arena. "Pay, Ry, Pry, Rate!" Morgan wanted to throw up, this was worse than the bloodbath. She considered running to hide behind one of the guys but curled her fingers into tight little balls of fists. Stiffly walking forward, she knew Tia was gone, but Flora wasn't yet. The fish bit the air ferociously and Morgan didn't think twice about taking out her taser. Her hands trembled as she aimed her gun-like weapon. Biting her lip, she pressed the trigger, expecting it to blow up one of the fish but watching instead as the bolt of electricity flew straight into the water. At first, Morgan assumed she'd uselessly wasted her battery, but was proven wrong as electricity sizzled and stung the fish. They were dead.. for a few minutes. "They're dead! They're dead for a few minutes, someone swim across!"
Morgan was able to restore herself to normality, and normality meant she was definitely not the one going to get her hair wet or her nails dirty. "She's going to get away!" Morgan cried with annoyance clear in her tone. She now took the time to look back at the friend she'd not placed attention to since he'd started grossing her out. She could understand some people had no problem displaying their love publicly, but watching Pate and Tia had been unbearable. But now, as Pate's expressions were pulled together in what she could only think was pain, Morgan inched closer to him. She barely noticed Ryan entering the river as she pressed the palm of her hand against Pate's. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She placed her trembling lips against his cheek before squeezing his hand. "I won't talk if you don't want me to.. but at least now she's a pretty angel looking down at you wishing the best for you.. and hoping you'll live and survive.." She let her sight linger on him but did not expect an answer or a word of his part. It no longer even bothered her that Flora had gotten away.
Refocusing her attention on Ryan, she watched nervously as he cut through the water. When he returned, she offered a weak smile. "I think we should start walking," she spoke softly while looking both Ryan and Pate in the eye. "The Career girl knows where we are, we're not safe here anymore." Morgan stood up, Pate's hand still in her own. She moved wordlessly, finally dropping Pate's hand and beginning to lift all she'd brought with her from the bloodbath. Numbers were dwindling down, and Morgan would admit her worry, but in the end she was loyal, and she'd carry on with Pate and Ryan up until the very end.
