Kerensa Oddette-18(D1F)
"You'll need to take it easy for a few days if you want your ribs to heal properly, but otherwise you're in surprisingly good shape for someone that got their ass kicked."
"What about my eye?"
"Well I'm no doctor, but the eye itself looks fine. So I'd assume that once the swelling goes down you'll be able to see just fine, but don't hold me to that."
"Thank you, Docker, it's a huge relief to hear that my injuries aren't nearly as awful as they seemed."
"Don't mention it, I just wish the news was half as good for Cassia as it is for you."
"How bad is she?"
"I don't expect her to wake up let alone recover in any sort of measurable way and I'm pretty sure Augustus and Claro were discussing what our next step should be when I told them you were awake."
This is just about as bad as I'd feared it would be, but I honestly can't say I'm all that surprised. She looked pretty bad in the immediate aftermath and a few hours of exposure and bleeding almost never have a positive effect on situations like this. I just hope no one digs deep enough into the situation to figure out that I passed on the chance to kill the person responsible for all this carnage and didn't in an effort to save Cassia, who, for all intents and purposes, was already dead.
"Are….Are you sure her injuries are that bad?"
"For what I can tell, they are. The infection on her face is particularly nasty and her eye looks like someone chopped a boiled egg in half and then pulverized it with a hammer, and don't even get me started on the noxious puss oozing out of the gash on the side of her head.
"Any one of those can be fatal in the arena, but all three are a lethal combination that we don't have the supplies or know how to fix. In short, she'd need a miracle to survive this, and even then she's got a better chance of dying than not."
I don't know how I'm supposed to react to all of this. I let a dangerous, vicious, possibly unstable monster escape death to save Cassia, and it's all for naught. I made an absolutely terrible decision, even if my motives were pure, and now I have to find a way to explain all of this to my allies while justifying a difficult decision that, in hindsight, has been rendered completely and totally moot.
Unfortunately, I'm not going to get the chance to think of a good excuse to give them because Docker decides to use my few seconds of silent contemplation to fetch the other boys. Within seconds he returns with Claro and Augustus in tow and the three of them quickly make themselves comfortable, relatively speaking, before turning their collective attention towards me and waiting expectantly for me to regale them with my tale of what happened. At least I assume that's what they're waiting for me to do anyway.
The only problem with that is, I don't have the faintest clue where to start, or what's important enough to warrant my telling them and what I'd be better off keeping to myself. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, considering my uncertainty, Augustus decides to get the ball rolling by asking the only question I'm even remotely sure how to answer.
"What the hell happened to the two of you out there?"
"We were searching for tributes in the market area, or what we assumed was the market area anyway, when we ran into a little problem."
"That's the understatement of the century, but I meant what specifically happened? Was it a mutt that did all this damage or another alliance that just got the drop on you?"
Well, I knew they'd get around to asking this question eventually. I was hoping to have more time to think of something, really anything, to tell them other than the truth. After all, I'm not exactly keen on the idea of admitting to my only remaining allies that I let Keyna get the drop on me after beating the crap out of Cassia. Especially after she and I went out of our way to write her off as a non-factor when discussing potential threats to our alliance running the table to an easy win. Which is another hindsight view that I'm not particularly proud of, but I'll have time to brood over that mistake later, at least I hope I will.
"It wasn't a mutt, and it wasn't an alliance. It was….It was…."
"It was what Kerensa? Spit it out already."
"Shut up and let her finish Augustus. You can see that she's obviously been through a lot today and I'm sure that the last thing she needs right now is for you to badger her with questions. Especially since you're unwilling to wait for her to answer the ones you've already asked."
"What the hell crawled up your ass Claro?"
"Nothing, but I don't see the point of badgering someone with questions if you're not willing to give them the chance to answer the damn things."
"I don't think you appreciate the gravity of the situation Claro, but if it'll make you feel better I guess I can try to be more, considerate of her feelings, as well as your obviously fragile emotional state, when I ask questions from now on."
"Was that supposed to be funny or are you seriously a big enough ass that you think that this is an appropriate time and place for sarcasm?"
"I'm not trying to be sarcastic Claro; I'm just genuinely concerned that you're not in a good place emotionally. And if you're not in a good place emotionally I need to be careful of what I say and how I say it so I can avoid setting you off. After all, the most important thing to any of us has to be not hurting someone's feelings by asking them 'overly harsh' and unnecessary questions."
"I didn't say the questions were overly harsh or unnecessary so stop putting words in my mouth. All I was saying was that it wouldn't kill you to be a little more thoughtful and considerate of what Kerensa's been through before jumping down her throat the first time she struggles with an answer."
I'm honestly thankful that Claro is still willing to step in and defend me, and I'm extremely thankful that I still have something resembling an ally in the alliance. Unfortunately, his stepping in is a marginally chivalrous act at best and it's one that quickly takes a turn for the worst as he and Augustus seem much more interested in attacking each other than they do in anything I've said or might still say.
Because of what I can only assume are the boys' easily bruised egos, along with the natural occurring tensions anyone would expect to find when two hormonally charges teenage boys are involved in a life or death situation, especially when they have such vastly different and contradictory approaches to surviving it, their disagreement quickly gets out of hand.
Before long any semblance of reason, along with any real pretense for the argument has been thrown out the window, along with their sanity, as the two of them decide that the only way for them to solve this disagreement is by trading incredibly hurtful and unnecessary personal attacks until someone finally gives up. This goes on for what seems like an eternity, though in reality the throbbing in my head and the fact that my ribs are screaming at me gives me an incredibly warped sense of time, before Docker is forced to step in and once again assume the almost unimaginably awkward role of peacemaker.
"If the two of you really want to tear each other apart that bad then feel free to head outside and do so after we finish up with the business at hand. Right now we need to let Kerensa finish telling us what happened so we can vote on what to do with our grievously injured Cassia."
"I really don't give a shit what happened to Kerensa or Cassia, and I don't believe for a second you or Claro do either, so we can probably just drop the pretense that we do and just move on. And there's really nothing to vote on with regards to Cassia either, and that's because she's already dead. What's more, we're doing her and her entire family, not to mention everybody living in and originally from District Two, a disservice by forcing her to linger in agony for our own selfish reasons."
I can't believe what I just heard Augustus say, and to make matters worse, I actually agree with him. I mean I couldn't care less about the so-called disservice we're doing to her district by keeping her alive, but the part about her and her family really hit me hard. The idea that her loved ones are suffering at home while she suffers in the arena is more than a little sickening. Not to mention that the more I think about it the more certain I become that, were I in her position, I'd rather die quickly and with some shred of dignity than be forced to keep living in agony.
Especially since the only reason to keep her alive is so rest of us can try to score a few cheap sympathy points with the Capitol audience. Unfortunately, most of my allies seem to be more interested in trying to fill the power vacuum that Cassia's injury has left at the top of our alliance, or in Dockers case, watching as the alliance implodes with a slightly disturbing smile on his face, to do for me what I now realize I should have done myself yesterday.
It's only now, after watching my hopes for an eleventh hour save by one of the boys being so eloquently eviscerated by Claro and Augustus inability to compromise in the slightest, that I'm forced to face the truth. Cassia doesn't deserve to live like this, no one does, and I'm going to have to be the one that saves her, because none of the boys seems to care enough about her to do it.
Once I make up my mind and set it to the task of delivering Cassia the mercy death I'm almost positive she'd want it becomes a simple task of waiting for an opening and delivering the blow. I wait until Claro and Augustus reach the point in their argument where whoever's not talking is constantly trying to yell over the top of the other to slip around the makeshift wall of crates that separates the front of the cornucopia from the back where I find a sweat soaked Cassia grimacing in pain.
I scoop up the closest weapon to me, which happens to be a throwing knife, before offering up a scarcely audible apology to my friend and one-time ally before dropping to my knees and brushing her blood-caked hair out of her good eye. Once I'm done I take a second to remember her face as it used to be before placing the tip of my knife in the center of her throat and pressing it into the soft flesh.
The next few seconds are hell as I'm forced to watch her face twist and contort in pain as her life slowly oozes out the hole I made in her neck. But the pain passes and the last look I see on her face is one of peace and happiness as the thunderous roar of her cannon announces her death to the rest pf the world….
~BOOM~
Keyna Rane-18(D6F)
I don't think I've ever been happier in my entire life to have been so suddenly and rudely woken up. Because even in my dreams that stupid bitch Kerensa always manages to find and exploit the one little opening I can't seem to avoid giving her. No matter what I change about the fight, the location, the body part I focus on disabling, hell I even kept her mace and used it to break one of her knees in one of my do-overs, but it's never enough. Even turning her knee into a mangled mess isn't enough to keep her down and she always finds a way to summon the necessary strength and resolve to knock me out and drag herself and Cassia to safety.
That's why I hope the cannon that so eloquently pierced the veil of my continued failures and drug me kicking and screaming back to reality belonged to Cassia. After all the work I put into so beautifully and elegantly disfigure and butcher her smug ass I deserve credit for the kill. Not to mention that I'd absolutely hate to think that Kerensa found a way to save her, especially since she only escaped because I got cocky and lost sight of the number one rule of fighting, don't celebrate until you've actually won the damn fight.
I'm pretty sure I'll never forget that particular rule again, especially is these scrapes and cuts covering my forehead scar over like I'm expecting them too. Unfortunately, that means every time I look in a mirror from now until the day I die, which I fully intend to be a good long time from now, I'll be forced to remember the price I paid for letting pride get the better of me. But the price I paid will be nothing compared to the consequences Kerensa, and anyone else unfortunate enough to cross my path, will be forced to pay to compensate me for my, unfortunate misstep.
That being said, I guess I should probably get up and start looking for someone to suffer said consequences, or at the very least find someplace a little safer to sleep then the middle of this alley. Unfortunately, my head is still throbbing and spinning from Kerensa's surprise attack and it takes every ounce of resolve I can muster to roll myself onto my stomach and push myself up onto my knees. Once I'm there it's a relatively simple, if excessively painful, matter of keeping myself steady and balanced as I use a nearby wall to pull myself back to my feet.
After I regain my footing I take a couple of seconds as my equilibrium readjusts to being upright before taking a couple of wobbly steps in the general direction of the bridge near the intersection I'd crossed twice yesterday. It's slow going and on more than one occasion I come dangerously close to face planting, but somehow I manage to keep myself upright and moving and before I know it I'm exiting the alley and moving back into the fresh air and openness of the city proper.
Once I'm back out in the open I spend the next several seconds trying to recover my strength while also reorienting myself to the arena. Doing the former is easy, but the latter is more difficult than it should be, mostly because the gamemakers seem to have decided that tonight was a good night to completely and totally rearrange the night sky. And while I can still see several of the constellations I saw last night, none of them are in the same place or even remotely close to the constellations they were near the night before.
Before long my head is swimming and the dizziness and nausea from earlier come roaring back and I'm forced to lay down in the middle of the street in an effort to suppress my nausea and stop my head from spinning. It's only when I'm on my back with the stars still spinning ever so slightly overhead that I spot a small but seemingly important pattern that I'd missed when I was standing up. After I find the pattern everything starts to fall back into place, and once I finally decipher the pattern, which is a surprisingly difficult task to accomplish while nauseous and concussed, and applying it to the sky's current setup to reorient myself.
Now that I'm reoriented it's time for me to decide on my next move and my initial reaction is to go after Kerensa. After all, hunting her down is the easiest and surest way for me to assuage my wounded pride, not to mention that she needs to pay, and pay dearly for the humiliating and embarrassing way she outsmarted me. Not to mention I'd love to see the look on her face as she realizes the totality of her failure, provided the cannon that woke me up belonged to Cassia that is.
Fortunately, the rational part of my brain isn't nearly as scrambled as it had been and I'm able to talk myself out of what would clearly be a suicide mission. Unfortunately, that also means I have to come up with a different plan, and that's next to impossible for me to do in my current mood and state of mind. Eventually, I'm forced to give up trying to plan something specific and settle for the more organic, winging it style I'd employed before. I mean if it worked before, and there's nothing stopping it from working again, why not stick with it and see how far it can take me.
Who knows, I might even luck out and find someone some poor, unsuspecting soul to take out my anger and frustration on. And maybe, just maybe, that person will be Kerensa, or at the very least Perry. Neither of whom is likely, at least not right now, but there's no reason a girl can't dream. As soon as I get my ass out of the middle of the street and someplace safe that is.
Paxx Carthage-15(D3F)
I think I've run about as far as I can, and only part of that is because my legs feel like they're about to fall off my body. The main reason I can't run any further is that I've finally hit the wall, in this case quite literally as a massive, silver-colored wall towers over me with no end in sight. And while my legs, lungs, arms, back and any other part of my body involved in the running process are insanely grateful that I have to stop, I can't say the same for my heart.
When I was running I was able to pretend none of it actually happened, and even though it was a childishly futile hope, part of me actually thought that if I kept running, I just might be able to outrun the pain and sadness of Briar's death. But I couldn't, and now I have to find a way to cope with her death, along with everything else that happened to me yesterday, on top of being tired and sore. In reality, all I managed to accomplish by running for so long was to delay the inevitable until I'm completely incapable of dealing with it.
Part of me knows that her death was inevitable; my desire to escape the arena alive means that everyone will have to die at some point. But there's something about watching someone you've grown to care about, someone you've grown to love, stares up at you and begs for their life with fear filled eyes. The fear in her eyes, the look of pure desperation etched on her face, the little tremors of despair in her voice as they plead with me to save her, or for Augustus not to kill her, is something that I'll never be able to forget let alone move past. That's why I brought the cleaver.
I mean, scooping it up had been more of a spur of the moment thing when I did it, but since then I've had about a zillion chances to throw it away, but I've stayed my hand each and every time I tried to. Because even though I deserve the pain and despair that's I'm sure is about to overwhelm me, and, should my despair and self-loathing move past the point of no return, I'm fully prepared to use the cleaver to do what part of me still wishes Augustus had done in the temple. Put me out of my misery.
And even though I know that taking my own life is incredibly selfish, I'd rather die than let the Capitol turn me into a laughing stock. In the seven or so years' worth of previous games, I can clearly remember there're always been one or two tributes that the hosts single out as comedic relief who somehow manage to lurch from one near death experience to another all while the Capitol crowd roars in approval at the comical mishaps they continually stumble into.
No, I've spent most pf my life struggling to be recognized and appreciated for something and I'm not going to be remembered as the tribute from the Hundred and Fourth Games that everyone laughed at as she was chased around the arena by man-eating fish with legs or who managed to survive for a week by staying half a step ahead of the careers that were hunting her. No, if I'm going to die, I'm going to die on my terms and without being made into a joke. I'd rather be remembered as the girl that cracked and killed herself in the arena than as the girl everyone laughed at.
I just hope I'm as brave and resolute when the time comes to….To end it all as I am now. Because the last thing I can afford is to chicken out when the time comes, because all that would accomplish is turning me into the joke I'm so desperately trying to avoid becoming and without the Capitols interference at that. Not to mention it would give my mom, step-dad, and step-sister one more thing to hold against me when comparing me to Halsey. And if there's one thing that's more unacceptable to me than being turned into a joke, it's letting my death become all about Halsey. She's stolen enough happiness and attention from me in life that I refuse to share the spotlight with her in death.
Wren Roxen (District 10 Mentor)
"I'm starting to wonder if James and Mazie are ever going to do anything worth mentioning while they're in the arena. I know we told them to play it safe and avoid unnecessary danger, but at some point, they've got to do something interesting or the gamemakers will start sending mutts their way."
"It's only the third day Wren."
"And in the two previous days, every other tribute has been involved in something that keeps them fresh in the minds of the viewers as well as sponsors. Mazie can only get by on her cuteness and childlike naivety for so long, and with all the action Docker, Perry, Claro, and Augustus have gotten into over the last two days James is in danger of falling off the board entirely."
"It's not that bad Wren."
I'll never understand how Paige can be so flippant and dismissive of my concerns, especially when it comes to my concerns about our tributes. I know that Mazie and James are far from perfect, and they don't exactly stick out the same way someone like Docker or Keyna did during training and interviews, but that's the reason I'm so worried about them. The only thing worse than being a bad tribute is being a forgotten tribute and that's exactly what Mazie and James are in danger of becoming, especially when the other surviving tributes, with the possible exception of Javon, have done at least one thing to make them stand out from the crowd a little bit.
Unfortunately, the most exciting and memorable thing Mazie and James have done is wander around aimlessly and sleep. Even the two of them running into each other in the theater, a moment that could have set one or possibly even both of them up for the long haul ended up being shitty T.V. because all the did was talk. There was no plan or scheme in play, no threats or ultimatums laid at the others feet, they didn't even raise their damn voices for crying out loud. If there's one thing that will turn the Capitol audience against a tribute it's apathy and inaction, and our tributes have both of those in spades.
"This may come as a shock Paige, but things really are 'that bad'. I can't get within ten feet of a new sponsor without being laughed out of the building and none of our normal supporters are returning my calls. If they don't do something to counter the increasingly negative light they're being viewed in…."
"Wren, there's no way for us to change how the audience and sponsors view our tributes. Anything we tell them is going to be seen as biased, and as much as we'd both like them to do something, really anything to attract attention, that's just not the kind of people either of them are.
"The only thing we can do for them now is keep watching the sponsors for movement and wait. We know that eventually all of the pre-game darlings will die and the money sponsors had been pooling for them will be up for grabs. Once that happens we need to be ready to pounce and sell our tributes as the big payoff long shot the audience desperately wants to cheer for.
"But I can't do that by myself and you're no good to me if you're a mess. So sit back, have a drink, try to relax for once in your life and play the hand we've been dealt."
I can't believe I'm about to say this, but she's got a point. I hate not being able to help my tributes, especially when I know James has the intangibles to go the distance, but there really is nothing I can do to help him, or Mazie, at the present time. What I can do is keep reminding everyone, particularly the sponsors that love to back a long shot, that he and Mazie are both still very much alive and could easily vault from middle of the pack to the top of the heap with just a little bit of support.
I just hope they can keep themselves alive without support long enough for the board to reset and for the sponsors to reevaluate who they're backing.
James Wild-18(D10M)
I didn't expect Mazie's rejection to be so, liberating. For the first time in my entire life, I'm completely and totally free of obligations and responsibilities to someone else, and it feels absolutely incredible. I've spent my entire life being counted on, being steady and reliable so it felt natural for me to bring those same characteristics with me to the arena, but when Mazie threw my offer of help back in my face it really opened my eyes to just how harsh and cruel the world outside of District Ten can be.
But it also helped me realize that I'm going to have to find a way to overcome my more helpful and gentle nature and become a colder and more practical tribute if I want to survive. I mean it was absolutely stupid and incredibly dangerous for me to abandon my weapon when talking to Mazie, especially without a guarantee that she'd do the same and talk on even footing.
My ability to take her in a fair fight would have been moot if she'd decided to bring a weapon and I was incredibly naïve to believe she wouldn't at least consider it. And even though she did meet me on even footing and on relatively neutral ground, the simple fact that I was willing to trust her so implicitly and without condition was a monumental mistake on my part. And it's a mistake I refuse to make again.
In a way, it's fitting that I'm watching the sun rise on my third day in the arena as I make this promise to myself, in a symbolic way at least. As a new day dawns and a sense of rebirth washes over the arena, I'm being reborn as well, and even though the idea of setting so many of my core principles and beliefs aside, even if it's only until the end of the games, scares the shit out of me. But it's a change that needs to be made, a metamorphosis if you will that I absolutely have to be willing to put myself through if I want to see the people I love again on this side of death.
As the sun finally crests over the cities outer wall I'm immediately consumed by its warming embrace and I spend the next few minutes just sitting there, soaking all of it in. I also take this opportunity to try to force myself to let go of my last few lingering doubts and reservations. I know this is the only way I can guarantee my own survival and even if I'm leery of the slippery slope such thinking can lead to, there's no way I can argue with the logic behind said thinking or escape its reality. Because in the end, and I really hate thinking like this, surviving the games is all that matters and the ends have always justified the means, no matter how brutal or excessive they seemed at the time.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of wrestling with myself I'm able to force my heart and soul into a consensus with my mind, at least I think I have. I'll be a more guarded and calculating tribute from now until the end of the games, I'll kill if and when I have to and I won't run away from another fight potential or otherwise. And in return, once I've outlasted the others and claimed the title of victor, I'll dedicate the rest of my life, along with most of the money and perks I'll receive for winning, to making the lives of the people of District Ten better. This way I can evolve and make the personal metamorphosis I need to make while staying true to who I am at my core.
With my inner concerns momentarily assuaged, and with a surprisingly clear and unobstructed purpose I crawl out from under the shrub I spent last night sleeping under before fishing my supplies and weapons out and quickly gearing up for the day ahead. Once my back is securely fastened on my back I slip my arm through the straps of the back of my shield and gently slip my sword into its sheath before starting off towards the massive collection of trees that dominate the skyline in front of me. I just hope I don't run into Mazie, or some other equally small and vulnerable tribute, on my way there.
I may be ready to turn over a new leaf, but that doesn't mean I'm eager to ambush and maul someone to death, especially if they wouldn't stand a chance against me in a fair fight. I guess there are some things about ourselves that are impossible to change.
Bryden Maier-18(D7M)
I can't imagine Larkin managed to get very far last night after she left. Even with the light from the moon and the stars last night was easily the darkest night of my life, combine that with the fact that Larkin's been frightened by her own shadow on more than one occasion, and you have a recipe for her making it about two or three hundred yards away before stopping for the night. At least that's what I'm assuming she did anyway.
Unfortunately, even if she did just go a little ways and stop she managed to cover her tracks surprisingly well, a feat made all the more impressive when you consider the fact that she was walking in fresh mud. And while I'm more than a little impressed that she found a way to avoid leaving a trail it does put me in the unfortunate position of not having any real idea where to start my search.
Then again, maybe the fact that I have no idea where to start is a sign that I shouldn't try to find her at all. The note she scribbled for me in the mud made it abundantly clear that she believes that her leaving is what's best for both of us and she all but begged me to agree. Not to mention the fact that she gave me the little piece of hazelnut wood her baby sister gave her as a goodbye slash remember me gift. Her doing any one of those things would be enough to make me hesitate to go looking, but all of them together, particularly her surprisingly passionate belief that what she's doing is in everyone's best interest, make me almost unwilling to look for her.
After all, she's old enough to know what she's doing, relatively speaking anyway. Not to mention that she's fully aware of the numerous dangers she's exposing herself too by leaving, and she still decided that removing herself from my protection was the best possible course of action. And the logical part of my brain agrees with almost every single reason she gave me, and a few she didn't but probably had, for making the decision she did.
After all, the longer we stayed together as allies the harder it was going to be for both of us when the time came for us to go our separate ways. Not to mention that forming a legitimate bond, something I'm fairly sure we already had the groundwork in place for, would have made it almost impossible for either of us, me in particular, to kill the other one. Honestly the more I think about it, and it figuratively kills me to say this, the more I believe that her leaving really is for the best. There's just one small detail that keeps screaming at me in the back of my head that's preventing me from accepting that she's gone and moving on. Johanna.
She went out of her way to make sure I, and anybody else with even remotely decent hearing, that she was, and most likely still is, vehemently opposed to the alliance Larkin and I formed. And even though she did at least pretend that she was trying not to let Larkin hear what she was saying, a feat made almost impossible by her fondness for screaming at me when she thought I was being flippant or just not listening, there's almost no chance she didn't catch wind of most of if not all of what was being said.
When I take all of that into consideration as well I'm not nearly as convinced that this was even remotely Larkin's idea. And if she only left because Johanna scared her into believing that she was just a parasitic determinate to me instead of the helpful and resourceful ally she really was, then I have an obligation to try to find and protect her. Unfortunately, that brings me back to the original problem of not having even the faintest idea of where to start looking for her.
I spend the next few minutes trying to decide what to do, and I've finally decided to retrace our steps from the previous two days, if I was trying to throw someone off my trail I'd go back the way I came instead of forging off into the unknown like most people would expect. I quickly clean and pack up my camp before grabbing my ax and get ready to head out, when seemingly out of nowhere a soft pinging noise catches my attention and refuses to let go.
At first, I can't figure out what it is, and I'm more than a little embarrassed to say that it takes the little far fluttering down in front of my face for me to realize that the sound belongs to the homing beacon attached to most sponsor gifts. I quickly snatch up the little container and pull the parachute off, which stops the beeping, before quickly retreating back into the mass of trees and tearing open the little silver case.
Inside is something completely useless but deeply personal for me as I pull out a small stuffed lion just like the toy I'd given my nephew for his second birthday. Under that is a page that looks like it was torn out of a book with a border composed entirely of cartoonish animals with something scribbled in the middle. And on the bottom, almost as if it was thrown in just to make this a legitimate gift instead of a thinly veiled guilt trip by my mentor, is a bottle full of water.
My initial reaction is to throw all of it away and go look for Larkin, but as soon as I scan the first few lines of what I'm now pretty sure is a poem I know I'm not going to go look for her. Instead, I slide down the nearest tree and begin to read and reread the poem a thousand times in an effort to memorize its every detail all the while clutching the little-stuffed lion to my chest and crying like a baby.
A/N: And so begins our adventure filled third day, and as you can see we've already had a semi-major twist and a lot of soul searching that's sure to set us up for a wild next few chapters. :)
I hope the chapter was worth the slightly extended wait (I honestly didn't think taking 6 classes instead of 4 would consume so much of my already limited free time) and that all of u enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Now, this time, I'm not going to give an actual date for my next update because every time I miss it I feel bad and I have a tendency to rush in order to meet it and then have to redo everything after I decide that what I wrote was stupid. But I do hope to update this weekend or early next week if I can so keep an eye out for the next chapter.
Other than that please review and I'll be looking for all of your happy faces at the next update :D
Death Order/Cause/Place
24-D5M- Barrett Martinez- Decapitated by D2F- Cassia Maximus
23-D8F- Twyla Monroe- Face grinded off on a pedestal by D4M- Docker Henderson
22-D9M- Hudson Levanten- Neck snapped by D4M- Docker Henderson
21-D12M- Frazier Von Haren- Skull split open by D7M- Bryden Maier
20-D5F- Tesla Brite- Speared while trying to escape by D4F- Deverin Aldous
19-D11F- Tepary Plantae- Throat slit by D2F- Cassia Maximus
18-D3M- William "Will" Java III- Chest caved in by D4M- Docker Henderson
17-D4F- Deverin Aldous- Stabbed in the forehead by D2F- Cassia Maximus
16-D9F- Briar Sycamore- Shot in the back of the head by D2M-Augustus Rowkin
15-D8M- Inigo Cambric- Shot in the chest by D2M-Augustus Rowkin
14-D12F- Ruby Magnus- Strangled by D1M- Claro Alabaster
13-D2F- Cassia Decima Maximus- Mercy killing by D1F- Kerensa Oddette
Kill Total
3- Docker
2- Augustus
1- Kerensa
1- Claro
1- Bryden
3- Cassia
1-Deverin
