Hey, here we go for the second half of Day Three, and its a sad one :(

Lana

Lana too had received one of mysterious packs that Newton had, from her killing of Hypatia the day before. She didn't know it, but there were only three living tributes that had kills next to their name. That was rare for the Hunger Games, especially three days in. The minute she had found it propped against a tree, she had swung it over her back and left the camp they now shared with Ronin and Ezra. She couldn't bear to be there any longer, Nautilus wouldn't stop screaming. It reminded her too much of home, of the way her brother screamed and cried out in pain, Lana completely helpless to do anything other than bathe his head and make him as comfortable as possible. But now, what she wouldn't give to be with him for one moment more, even if it was at the height of his sickness. She wouldn't have minded sitting by him and trying to ease his pain if it meant she got to be with him, see him again, feel his hand in hers again. She tilted her head backwards, resting it against the trees, letting endless memories wash over her, even the ones she had tried to forget. Anything that reminded her of her family Lana now clung to.
Things had got so much more complicated when she met Aila. Lana was supposed to go it alone. She wasn't afraid to kill or fight or hurt to make her way home. Winning the Games would give her the money she needed to get her brother well, to start a new life and forget everything about the old one. But Aila had complicated things. Aside from their feelings for one another, Aila was just so nice. She wanted to help and do good, when all Lana wanted was to get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible. A few times, now being one of them, Lana had debated running, of leaving Aila and her friends alone, much like D'ante and Nautilus had done. The difference there was the older men had done it with the intention of helping the girls, if Lana did it now, it would be spiteful and mean. Her and Aila cared for each other in ways neither of them ever thought would be possible, to abandon her now would be so cruel. Besides, out of the pack they had formed now, Lana was the most skilled fighter, by walking away, she would leave them open and unprotected. So, Lana told herself she was only taking a break, a few minutes to breathe, and just exist for a while without having to care or worry about anyone.

For the first time Lana looked in the bag the Capitol had gifted her with. It was heavier than the other packs the tributes had found on the first day, causing Lana to smile. It gave her hope of food and water, something they were so quickly running out of. By now their group had worked out that the Cornucopia held the only source of water, they had spent all yesterday travelling through the forest and the desert and found nothing at all. The prospect of water here gave Lana the little encouragement she needed to believe they would all be okay. She pulled at the strings of the bag, opening up. The first thing she found was a small first aid kit, not unlike the one Ezra had at their makeshift hospital, she would be sure to give that to him. Next, there were two bottles of water, which she set aside, gently placing them down, treating them like the precious cargo they were. What Lana found next, took her breath away. At first she had passed it off as another water bottle, but it was a flask. She slowly unscrewed the lid, her nose filled with the scent of warm coffee. She took a small sip, having to resist the urge to moan out. Finally, something she almost missed at first, was a small square of paper in the bottom of the bag. She pulled it out, nervous at first but then excited, it could be anything, the key to escaping, a poem, a love letter from her secret admirer.

It was none of them, the paper was more beautiful than anything she could have ever imagined. It was a picture. Lana remembered the day so clearly. Cameras were a rarity in her household, so every picture had to be special, and this one was. Her dad had taken in, after a family picnic when Lana was just thirteen years old. She sat with her legs across her older brother Luke's torso, her younger brother was just a toddler. How everything had changed so fast after this photo was taken. The young, clueless Lana in the picture had no idea that in just four short months her father would be dead, and she would be the caretaker of her family. She there was no indication of how sick Jae would become, how frail and helpless, here he was running about and laughing. He did neither of them anymore. Lana tried her best not to cry, but it failed miserably. She traced the faces of her brothers on the paper, laughing at the memory of them, of having a family who, despite never being especially rich, had enough love and care for one another that everything was okay.

"That one was my touch, I thought you really needed it." A man emerged from behind the tree Lana had been sitting under, his hands held up in surrender. "I'm unarmed." He stammered, noticing the knife Lana had aimed in his direction.

"You?" Lana dropped the picture, standing up. "What the hell are you doing here."

"It's a long story." Clem hung his head, still not understanding himself how things had gone wrong so quickly.

"I've got time." She shrugged, settling back down against the tree, Clem taking a seat opposite her.

"I don't really know where to start." He laughed nervously. His fall from power had happened so quickly it was as confusing to him as it would have appeared to any of the other tributes. "I guess from the start my heart was never really in the Games. I saw all your faces, how helpless and innocent and desperate you all were, and I just couldn't do it." Clem paused, checking that Lana was still listening. She was, intently staring at him, ready for answers she never thought she would ever get. "So it started off small. I took Todd to see his nephew, that's when you met me. Then I started twisting the arena and the pre-games, making it easier for you-"

"Easier?" Lana spat, knowing she shouldn't be so harsh but unable to contain herself. "Nothing about this was easy at all. It's been torture and pain and nothing short of hell."

"Yes, right, I know." Clem twisted his hands nervously in front of him, confrontation the last thing he wanted now. "I just meant, this would have been so much harder."

"So much harder if it wasn't for you?" Lana completed the sentence, shaking her head.

"That's not what I meant, I'm sorry." Clem protested, knowing trying to make himself seem like the good guy was a futile task, he wasn't and he never would be. "Anyway, then it got to bigger stuff and to cut it short, I saved Jordan's life and everything came out. Instead of killing me, my girlfriend managed to get me a place in here."

"Wow, she's a keeper." Lana retorted sarcastically, earning a small laugh from Clem.

"She really was." Clem spoke sadly, hanging his head. "So that's my story. Now, are you going to help me, or kill me?"

"I haven't decided just yet." A plan was forming in Lana's head. She picked up the picture, stuffing it into her pocket, and pulling herself to her feet, offering a hand out to Clem. "But either way, you know this place, you know how the Hunger Games works. For now, at least, I can use you."

Salome and Locke

"I told you one of us should have stayed here." Salome folded her arms over her chest, resisting the urge to say I told you so. The last thing either of them needed now was another argument. What they needed, was to deal with the girl rummaging through their stuff. After the run in with Jordan yesterday, Locke had encouraged his daughter to join him on the early morning scout around their camp. They had been keeping to the edge of the forest, assuming that they would hear or see any intruders. Except for this girl, she was good.

"Okay, Salome." Locke was frustrated. None of this would have happened if his daughter just accepted that people would have to die. It infuriated him, the high horse she sat on, despite her being his daughter, and Locke could just tell that Salome looked down on him as a result of his lack of ethical background. He laughed to himself at the thought of having a disapproving daughter- he was sure it was supposed to be the other way round. Locke glanced to Salome, shaking his head before stepping forward, ready to leave the safety of the clearing.

"Hold on, Dad." Salome placed her hand on his chest, pushing him backwards. "You can't just shoot her from behind a tree. Let's just watch, see what she takes and then confront her. It's not worth it."

"I'm sorry Salome, but that's not how this is going to work." Locke pushed passed his daughter, his weapon of choice today was a bow and arrow and he pulled the string tight as he advanced on the Cornucopia. He was about ten meters away, when Lilac spun round, a trident held firmly in her hands, angled straight at Locke.

Even from here, Salome could tell the girl had no intention of using it, even in a position like this when death was staring her right in the face, Salome knew just from looking at Lilac that she was never going to hurt Locke. She could tell because it was the same face Salome herself had pulled yesterday when confronted with Jordan. She wasn't going to do it. For a second, Locke lowered his weapon, and Salome let out a sigh, it was going to be okay, Locke knew it wasn't worth it. But then, the arrow was adjusted, lined with Lilac's chest once more, and he fired.

It had been silent before, but then chaos erupted. Locke stumbled backwards, almost not connecting the dots to what he had done. Salome crumbled to her knees, screaming, not knowing why but unable to stop.
A body emerged from the forest, sprinting towards the Cornucopia, scooping up Lilac's body, and holding her close to his chest. The only person that didn't make a sound was Lilac.

"It's alright, I'm here." Salome watched on as Lilac's dying body was cradled by a man whose face Salome couldn't put a name too.

"Flynt…?" Lilac mumbled, her eyes flickering open briefly before closing again. "Are you real? Why are you here?" The blood was pouring from the wound in her chest now, falling on to Flynt, and forming a small stream heading in Salome's direction.

"Of course, I'm real, baby." Flynt smoothed down Lilac's hair, biting back the tears that threatened to fall. He had to fight them, Flynt wasn't sure he would be able to stop once they started. "I was never going to let you come here alone, I followed you and hid." He smiled and Lilac returned it. For a second, things were okay, he believed for a brief moment that the wound in Lilac's chest wasn't fatal, that in a few minutes, she would be able to stand up, and they would head back to Florence and Lilac, and burn crackers and laugh long into the night, like a bunch of teenagers on a school trip, the life they should have been leading. But then Lilac's smile turned into a cough, droplets of blood forming at the corner of her mouth. She gripped onto Flynt's shirt as a wave of pain and exhaustion washed through her body.

"Flynt?" Speaking for Lilac took all the little energy dhe had left, her words were slurred, barely distinguishable as a sentence. "Can you sing for me?"

"Sure, Lilac, anything you want." The first of his tears slipped from his eye, splashing on to Lilac's chest, mixing with the blood.

Flynt didn't have time to start the song, before Lilac's pull on his shirt fell, and a canon sounded.

He had expected to feel a deep sadness at Lilac's death, like he had done with his father all those years before. But he just felt empty, so tired of it all, his one drive for fighting in the Games completely gone.

Locke took a step backwards, the bow still in his hands, shaking. He knew he should reload and kill Flynt, end this here and now, before the younger boy had a chance to get a weapon and fight. Locke had been raised a killer, his whole life had been fighting and preparing for this moment, it had been all he had worked for. For the first time in his life, Locke felt wrong, like everything he had ever done was wrong. He retreated backwards, unable to end another life, not here or now, not ever again.

Flynt stood up. He picked up Lilac's trident and the pack she had been carrying filled with water bottles. He looked at Locke, considered how easy it would be now to throw the weapon he was hiding, and kill him, just as the man had done to his girlfriend minutes earlier. He prepared to, he raised the weapon above his head, and just as he was about to launch it, he doubled over, throwing up in the grass in front of him. "I-" He stammered, backing away from the other man. "I hope someone kills your daughter right in front of your eyes." Flynt turned, allowing himself one more look at Lilac's body, before his trek up the mountain began.

"Don't worry, dad." Salome had pulled herself together enough to walk towards her father, patting him on the back. "You won't have to watch me die, because this is the last time you are ever going to see me." She practically spat the last words, turning from the man that had raised her and packing a bag before heading off into the forest.

Jordan

Jordan knew his luck was running out. His life had been saved two times, in that many days, there had to come a point where there were simply no chances left for him to get out of a situation alive. He heard a rustling in the trees that surrounded him, and he swung his knife, cutting through the air. After yesterday's run in with Locke, Jordan had vowed to be extra careful, he had let his guard down with Salome, thinking that it would be okay, and he had been proven very quickly wrong. Something like that was not going to happen again, he couldn't risk it.
"Shit." He murmured, cursing himself for jinxing it just a few seconds earlier as he heard the noise once more. Whoever, or whatever, it was must have seen him by now, Jordan knew he had to risk calling out. People here were scared of him, if they knew who they were preparing to fight, it just might encourage them to run off. "I know you're probably lonely…" He laughed, confused as to why this was his approach. "But I'm not looking for a friend at the moment, so piss off." He wasn't in the mood for a fight, too tired and dehydrated from the long walk down the mountain. Instead of sitting across the clearing, he knew what would happen if he went anywhere near there, Jordan had opted to spend yesterday walking through the desert to reach the forest, a choice he now regretted.

"Not even me?" Salome appeared from behind a tree, and Jordan felt himself bite his cheek to hide the smile of happiness and relief that threatened to follow. He knew the relief he felt was premature, wherever Salome went, Locke followed, and he wasn't exactly president of that man's fan club, or even a member… "We have history, that's got to be an exception to the rule."

This time Jordan smiled, chuckling lightly, but still looking behind Salome, not at the girl, wary that his enemy could be anywhere near here.

"Don't worry, Jordan." Salome knew immediately what, or rather who, he was looking for. "He's nowhere around, I left him this morning." Jordan could tell that was a sore topic, deciding not to question it, not that he had time anyway, as Salome spoke again. "What are you doing down here anyway? What happened to your mountain retreat?"

"Oh you know, fancied a change of scenery, making the most of the great outdoors." He settled down on a fallen log, motioning for Salome to take a seat next to him. He wasn't exactly happy with their current set up, they were too much in the open for his liking, but Jordan was tired and Salome was emotional, the least he could do was stop and let her calm down. Besides, there was no doubt that they were the strongest tributes in here, they had nothing to worry about if someone did approach them. "Here," He offered Salome the last of the bread and cheese he had been sponsored with a few days prior. "I definitely owe you after yesterday."
Salome shook her head, but accepted half of the offering, more for Jordan's sake than her own. She knew he would have liked the thought of being in anyone's debt, or having his ass saved by someone else. They were similar in that way, both independent and determined to do things right, and do it alone.

She finished her meal, crouching down to retrieve something from her bag. Jordan let out a gasp as she revealed it, and she could visibly see the spots of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. "The joys of claiming the Cornucopia, you get the pick of anything left behind. I was saving it for a special occasion. Well, what's more special than your dad murdering a teenage girl?" She broke a square of, handing it to Jordan before taking one for herself. She was not going to gorge on it or waste it, but one bite left her wanting more and more. Salome forced the sugar treat back into her bag, trying to convince herself that it had never existed in the first place.

"Who?" Jordan asked, wiping his hands on his trousers, shaking his head.

"Huh?" Salome replied, having forgotten everything else apart from the taste of the chocolate.

"Who did he kill, Salome?"

"Oh, God, Jordan." Salome reached out to place her hand on his arm, but Jordan flinched away before she even got close. "I'm so sorry, I forgot how close you two got in the last days…" It hadn't even crossed Salome's mind that he would be sad about anything, about anyone. Jordan had this carefree, incorruptible front that he put out to the world. Salome knew it was just that, a front, but sometimes it was so flawless she forgot that there was a person underneath who cared and loved, and felt.

"No, umm, it wasn't your fault, Salome." Regardless of his words, Jordan looked angry and Salome was sure at least part of it was directed at her. He stood up, bruising off the tree bark and leaves that had attached themselves to the back of his legs, turning away from Salome.

"Where are we going?" The girl asked, copying what he had just done.

"We're going nowhere." He turned and faced her, pulling her into a quick hug. "I've got your back Salome, always, but we both know that sticking together is never going to end well."

Nautilus, Aila, Ronin and Ezra

"It's okay Nautilus, we're all here." Aila sat in the same position she had been all through the night. And through the morning. And through the afternoon. Bathing Nautilus' head with a strip of shirt soaked in water, feeding him and forcing him to drink every hour. But, whatever Aila did, it wasn't enough. Even with Ezra there to help, the infection had set in faster than any of them could have expected. He had spent all night crying out, and as much as Ronin and Ezra rushed around to make him comfortable, there was nothing any of them could have done. If they were in a hospital, the story would have been different, Nautilus could have survived, but they had nothing more than a small first aid kit Ezra had found on the first day. The bandages wrapped tight around Nautilus arms that afternoon were leaking blood, and it was their last set. Things were dire now, and everyone knew it.

"Aila, I need you to do it now." Nautilus pleaded, for the tenth time that hour, sweating despite the cool evening breeze. He was just a shell or the vibrant energetic man he had been the day before, marching through the desert.

"Nautilus no. You know I could never do that. And besides," She paused, trying to figure out an excuse for why she couldn't complete his wish now. "The fever could break at any moment and you would be fine."

"Come on, kid, you know that's not going to happen." He mumbled, his speech slurred as he slipped into sleep once more.

"Hey," Ronin had been watching on, his heart breaking more every second. AIla and Nautilus' relationship reminded him of what he had with Vivian. Aila was convincing herself that she kept Nautilus around to protect him, much like Ronin had done with the young girl. But in reality, it was Aila that really needed Nautilus, to keep her sane and give her purpose. Ronin knew the feeling all too well, he also knew how broken she would be if he died, how she would feel useless, like she had failed, her purpose gone. It was the exact feelings he was still battling over Vivian. "Take a break." He walked up to where Aila was still standing, guiding her away from their patient. "I'll be with him until he wakes up, okay?"

Aila nodded, reluctantly walking away, yet silently thankful for Ronin's kind nature. He was so gentle and kind, Aila had never met anyone as pure and selfless as him. If she wasn't a lesbian…
No, Aila was being stupid, what mattered now was Nautilus. She just wished Lana was by her side to hold her and tell her it would all be okay.

Where the hell was Lana? More than anything Aila needed her best friend, her girlfriend, and the only person she knew capable of doing what Nautilus was begging for. The girl had been gone for a few hours, and although Aila was worried her mind was always focused on Nautilus. She would have hated asking Lana to do something like this, but she knew the girl, she knew it wouldn't break her like it would break Aila. Lana could do it, she could live with it, whilst this would be all Aila would ever think about for the rest of her life.

"Aila," Ezra walked up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "It's what he wants, and there's no saving him, there's nothing more I can do. It's either this, or watch him slowly pass away in agony for the next week."

"Then you do it then." She snarled, shaking him off and turning round. Ezra stumbled back, the hurt evident on his face from Aila's sudden outburst. She regretted it instantly, Ezra had been nothing but kind to them this whole time, he didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry," She sobbed, hugging him. "I just don't know how I'm going to do this."

"I know, Aila, I know." Ezra replied. He glanced over to where Ronin had taken over the care for Nautilus. For a second he debated asking the young male to do it, but then he remembered how shaken up he had been over Vivian's death, something he had had no role in, this would destroy him even more than it would Ezra or Aila.

"Right." Aila pulled back suddenly, wiping the tears off her face, shaking her body to wake herself up. "Let's get this over with." She walked over to Nautilus, picking up a spear as she went.

The man was now floating in and out of consciousness, but as he saw Aila approach he looked up and smiled. "Thank you." His voice was hoarse and choked, but Aila knew how much it meant to him that she was by his side, that she was the one to do this.

"Nautilus, I'm so sorry. I wish there was something else I could do."

"Aila." His eyes were closed, Nautilus now using all his strength to get his last few words out. "This is the kindest thing you could ever do for me. I'll say hello to D'ante for you."

Aila let out a desperate sob, closing her eyes as she plunged the spear into Nautilus' chest. She opened her eyes again just as a canon sounded, looking down to see Nautilus' body finally still, the faint outline of a smile on his face.

Tributes Graveyard

13th Place: Lilac Russi (D12F)- Awww Lilac, she deserved so much better than this. I loved her sweet yet feisty nature, and her relationship with Flynt was one I loved exploring and wanted to look at more, but it's the Hunger Games, love is impossible.

12th Place: Nautilus Cog (D4M)- The last of our older tributes, and one of my absolute favourites. I wanted nothing more than for Nautilus to win, and at one point, he was going to, it's impossible not to love him so all the tributes would have happily protected him. But then again, would he really have let all those people die so he could survive?

Annnnddd Day Three is over, with another two deaths, two people who I loved writing and developing and getting to know. I hope you enjoyed this, despite the sadness.

Questions: out of the remaining, who are your favourites and who do you think is going to win?

I have so many new ideas for SYOTs that I am developing, so keep your eyes peeled for them!
Hope everyone is well, and until next time,

Alice xxx