Metamorphosis: The 100th Hunger Games.
Arena Day Six - Part Three
Meanwhile, as the Gamemakers were preparing the finishing touches, Pearlana sends word to Marceline Devereaux and the other participating networks about the Games' impending climax. Workplaces throughout the nation - which were slowly coming alive again after the initial pomp of a new Games was over - ground to a halt once word reached the general populace. Diners, community halls and town squares are filled to the brim, house parties are hastily arranged and the Capitol Arena of course was now at max capacity - filled with people desperate to be present with the victors as history is made and the hundredth victor is declared. Though most Capitolites and most of the Career districts were banking on Sarissa Levesque, others still held hope for the other remaining tributes eking out a win above the rest.
After some final deliberations with sponsors, the mentors of the surviving districts take their seats to thunderous applause. Watching this in a skybox overseeing Capitol Arena, Marceline Devereaux has never felt so giddy. Even though the show is barely about her - she was just the face - she couldn't help but feel so involved in the moment. She was guiding Panem through a colossal moment in history, and she couldn't be more proud. She, Yvette and the other panelists put on their best smiles before the camera.
"Salutations, Panem!" she greets to the nation at-large. "My friends, history is literally going down as we speak! Within an hour or two, the victor of the One Hundredth Annual Hunger Games will be crowned! All of the remaining tributes seem to have a compelling reason to return to us. But who has the will to break above the rest? I suppose we'll find out soon enough!"
Jasper Rankine of District 2 feels amazing. And she'll feel more than just 'amazing' once Jasper brings it home. The Eighty-Eighth victor smiles for the cameras as her fellow mentors standby for support. Like she told Savy the other day, this was meant to be. Maybe not for Diana's case, but they'll make good for her very shortly. She was nervous as shit, yeah, but Rissa was a shoe-in -'the odds-on favorite'. All she had to do was sit back and watch. In the back of her head, she muses over that saying - that "victors and fallen" have a role to play within our system. She still believes this to be true but in Rissa's case, she yearns for the former rather than the later.
Beside her, Jason Christos eyes Solomon's screen with a stone face, ignoring the flashing cameras and invasive questions by the press. He 'pushed' for him ever since the young man stepped forward. After what he'd been through, he'd never push for a tribute or actively judge another cadet again. Whereas aspirants were blindly fanatic - like a certain female counterpart - he simply stated his case. He simply wanted something better. Not just for himself, but for his family. At his parents' behest, Jason tried to veer him off that path - even offered to write him a reference for OCS - but he declined it. I mean, if he wants it that bad...
At Three's kiosk, Gwendolyn Faraday watches on as a frayed bundle of nerves. It always seems to end like this. District 3 comes so close only to lose it all just like that. Maia's come so far in her eyes and played the Game so well. She'd go as far as to say that she reminds her...of her. Right beside her, District 3's escort Doris McKenzie clutches her hand as a show of support. Like she says so many times, Gwen was worth as much as all the other victors. Gwen appreciates the sentiment but she yearns for the burden to be shared.
Piper Malveaux of District 5 wishes for the same thing. She was by no means a 'rough' victor. She was "Finch Emerson reincarnate!" - Those were Marceline Devereaux's words, not hers. Tuesday could be her better half in the mentoring world. There's only oh so much she could offer besides scant survival advice and ample sponsor money from 'paid company'.
Isabella Wilkinson of District 6 is on everyone's tongue this year. "She's a natural mentor!", "She dove in head first!" In all honesty, she was just doing what was right. With all due respect to Silvia and Koller, she didn't want others to go through what she did when she was under their guidance. In order for Six to do well, they needed to have confidence in all their tributes as soon as their names were called. It helps, just like how it helped when the both of them decided to actually participate. Besides, the image of Zahira coddling her kids was permanently engrained in her head. She was a 'Tiger Mom' - as Marceline now calls her - doing anything and everything to get back to her cubs. She promised to do her part and she delivered her end, she just hopes now that she or even Theilan can bring it home. Beside her were Silvia Starr and Koller Ascort, overseen by Six's escort - Flo Shakespeare. They were there purely for keeping up appearances. If Flo didn't send the Peacekeepers after them, they'd be high at the apartment. Not because they didn't care, but because of how much of a shitshow all this was. From where they see it, Six is losing two of its best and brightest and for what? Nothing, that's what.
Some distance away, Paisley and Zinnia watch as Wondr'a skillfully evades her pursuers. It's so contrary, she knows, and it makes her feel so gross doing it but Paisley mentally prays that Wondr'a will come back to them alive. Not for glory or tempering Eleven's rightful furry against the Capitol but because Wondr'a deserves some sunshine in her life. And oh boy if you come back to us you will get that sunshine in more ways than one.
A little ways beside them, District 12 escort Francine Nguyen watches as the newly-founded alliance - established by her tribute - discusses strategy. Hate her because of her 'ambiguous' way of going about things, but no one can disagree that Veradisia Smith has a penchant of having a plan b, c and d for every situation. She genuinely hopes that she's just an idealist who wants to improve Twelve's situation within Panem. She even thinks that maybe perhaps Kaviraya could shoulder some of the weight Ainsley deals with. He'd be a great mentor.
Ainsely Tisdayle, just hopes that it ends quick and that she can go back to her mansion and hide for another year.
Miles away at the City Center in Meredith DeWynter Hansson's apartment suite, Premier Sergei Kudryavtsev has just finished getting to know'the young, aspiring diplomat 'a little bit more'. After meeting the dignitary at the Launch Day festivities, Meredith was absolutely smitten by the foreign dignitary. After realizing her week's old marriage would be fruitless, she made her desire known to her aunt and as the secret DeWynter family motto goes - "Anything a DeWynter wants, they get" even if that includes a foreign leader. The Premier's first lady was easily distracted by afternoon tea with the women DeWynters which allowed him to sneak away with the young lady. This dalliance wasn't new to either of them. For the Premier, the feeling between them was mutual and he had plenty of playthings back in Russia. Meredith's husband was off doing who-cares-what and her parents have snuck around countless times in the past as was the tradition in higher Capitol society. The Premier watches the Games continue to unfold. He'd seen bits and pieces before, presented to him by refugees before a world council. The footage then seemed so raw that he thought them to be fake but now he watches them with intrigue.
"I think I understand now," he says, gesturing toward the holovision. "There's so much control, so much pitted anger."
"As there should be," Meredith rises from her resting position on the bed, her bare body shrouded by bedspread. She reaches for and lights a cigarette, taking a drag and exhaling. "The districts themselves have each other to blame for why they are where they are."
"Doesn't that ruin national cohesion? Dampen the economy, trigger conflict? It's something I've always wondered about Panem." He muses. "It's a firm punishment, but..."
"I mean it has happened once, after seventy-five years of peace." Meredith replies. "Our cohesion is well, actually. Those who are smart enough to fall into line do so, making those who don't stick out easier to isolate and erase from the nation's fabric."
Humming in thought, the Premier returns his attention back to the holovision. He of course has heard bits and pieces about their civil war that occurred twenty-odd years ago. Even if they managed to crush that uprising and continue down the same path - a path that he himself agreed with - its only inevitable that another more organized rebellion will take its place in due time.
Panem is such an interesting nation.
In the arena, the newly-founded alliance of five continues to rest up for their future encounter. Eating, drinking and staring into space...They vocalized the need to 'rest up' before the cameras and it seems that the Gamemakers are obliging them. They wouldn't want totally fatigued tributes weakly slugging their blades at each other now would they?
An idealist to her core, Veradisia Smith tries her darndest to dampen the grin on her lips, eating up the remainder of her rations and purified water. Nervous energy, she thinks to herself. Even eating felt like a task in of itself due to her mind being dominated with today's upcoming battle which will surely become a finale. The past few hours - hells - the past few days have shown her that she was on a roll. Just like she had said to Maia Clear, she was due for a higher calling. Despite the obvious challenges to that calling, she hopes that she can strike the Capitol of the list of threats. She finds herself glancing up into the air, perhaps into an invisible camera drone. Even though she whispered her intentions to the others, there's no doubt that some Gamemaker was deciphering their words right now and were planning to curtail the Games around them. She wonders about Father, Channery, Aspen, Mr. Dunning and the rest of her acquaintances...What was Twelve thinking of her right now? She hopes they're proud of her, she hopes that Father is taking care of Chan - and vice versa. Chan was the more emotional twin after all.
Even with this entente she threw together, it'll be hard, so very hard. But hey, she knew what she was coming here for. She had an inkling of what'll be thrown her way. But with her friends and family watching - with Mr. Marcenas watching perhaps - she'll get through this.
Zahira on the other hand, was skeptical of this hashed together alliance but at the same time, she welcomed it. She recalls, back when she was just a doctor and not a tribute, being on the outside looking in as real bruisers were selected year after year throughout the Career districts. She's seen how some Careers systematically tear through the non-Careers and even other Careers. It was like an intricate dance. If those Careers were choice-tier, then the Twos this year might as well be victors already. She imagines Theilan and herself alone again heading into the finale against Twos coupled with the other remaining tributes...They would've gotten their asses handed to them. But now, they had help.
The Six female tears into her last stick of jerky as she eyes the ringleader of said 'help'. She wonders how Veradisia does it, her entire alliance of older rebels being wiped out and her still kicking at the end of it all...She knows that she was just looking after her own skin, but part of her thinks that there's something more to this cobbled-up grouping. Zahira won't lie to herself either, this alliance was opportune - something she was glad to have at her disposal. At the end of the day, she was looking out for herself too. At least now, with this 'big' alliance, she won't have to worry about Theilan when everything kicks off. The man in question, sharing the same log as her, nudges the doctor. She turns around, quirking a brow as Theilan offers her some of his candy - Rainballs, her favorite - with an equally sweet grin on his face.
"You never know when you'll have it again." He quips with a wink.
Sighing, she accepts a handful, returning the grin in question as she savors each and every piece. Inwardly - given their predicament - frowns. Godsdammit...Just as I switched off, he reminds me that he's right here. Like it or not, he'll be here at the end, too.
Across the way, Kaviraya eyes this exchange. Truth be told, he eyed this pair since the reapings. So many doctors reaped in one given year was something to take note of. He respects worth ethic and wonders if they were like Tuesday, given the similar professions. It was going to be him over them no matter what, but it couldn't hurt to wonder. Still, seeing them in that exchange makes him wonder about his own relationships...Or lack thereof. His half-siblings and stepmother he could care less about. Hells, he could care less about what people in general thought. But he couldn't get over the nagging feeling of if he were to fall, what would it mean? Would people be happy? Indifferent?
He shakes his head. Instead of focusing squarely on his coworkers, in whom he had a mostly cordial relationship with, he focuses on the relationships he had with Mary and Mayor Simms. They would care. Mayor Simms treated him like blood and Mary was always good to him when he was barely to her. And with that thought, he was content. He wants more out of his life, that was for the most part meager. It was made good by his tenacity and hard work in the face of his heinous 'family', but meager because they damaged him in such a way that if he wasn't an once stronger than he was, he wouldn't be standing here today. Winning could fix that.
Theilan clears his throat, eyeing the four other tributes around him with the slightest of grins on his lips. It was so funny... "You know uh...I was thinking..."
After a split second of exchanging glances, Vera bites. "About?"
"About how different things would've been if we had allied since the beginning," Theilan answers, chuckling dryly. One by one, he motions to Tuesday, himself and places a gentle hand on Zahira's shoulder. "A surgeon, a psychiatrist, a general practitioner...Maybe even you too, Kaviraya. That would've been something."
If the universe were any different, these would be the kind of people he'd sit down in a break room and have coffee with, chatting about politics or other social happenings. Yet here he was, sitting with them when in an hour or so all but one would be dead.
"We tried, remember?" Zahira says, glancing at the surgeon from District 5. "But Five declined us."
"Well in my defense," Tuesday counters with raised hands. "I couldn't exactly trust anyone as far as I could throw them. Neither should you."
"Seeing us now, would you have allied with us?" Theilan asks, amused.
"Yes," Tuesday chimes back. "Seeing you now as finalists, I suppose you two would be worth allying...With Mr. Parathi of course."
"Only because we've made it this far, we're worthy in your eyes?" Zahira chimes in again, brow quirked. She was amused all in all. "Not because having a general healer in your pocket and a shrink for moral support in your pocket would be beneficial?"
"Precisely..." Tuesday replies back, crossing her arms with slight indignation. Theilan snorts in return, causing the makeshift alliance to snicker all around. The surgeon from District 5 finds herself grinning. Despite everything going on right now, it feels nice to...well, feel - it felt much better than musing about death, if only for a short moment. "...Okay, I have thought about it, yes, but for the aforementioned reason, I opted not to. Besides, the alliance would be too big."
"But that other alliance was quite big. Look at them now." Kaviraya points out, prompting the group to give their acknowledgement in the form of humming or nodding.
"That would've been something, I must admit." Vera pipes up, gesturing to the doctors. "Three doctors, together."
"There's four of us," Theilan interjects, glancing out into the arid wilderness. "The only one missing is Wondr'a..."
He wonders where she is, the petite, kind, dark-skinned woman with the doe-like eyes and a poof of curly hair. Till now, he still curses the Eleven woman for running away like she did back on day two. He hopes she's doing OK...for now at least. He saved a life - her life - during the Hunger Games no less. Her story was so interesting to him. The textbook case of someone unappreciated as a person, but appreciated for what they offer. He took pride in 'tying those loose knots' she had, or at least attempted to. Self-doubt was a consistent beast to grapple. If only she were here, a part of this alliance...just so he could say goodbye one last time before everything devolved.
Seeming to understand the undertones of his wording, Vera grins sadly. "If we find Wondr'a along the way, we'll fill her in. The more the merrier."
Theilan nods. He thinks that'd be nice. After that, the alliance fell back into silence, opting to brood once more or finish the last of their rations.
Some meters away, Maia Clear observes the alliance with a twinge of regret in her heart - like a fear of missing out almost. In Three's school system, of course she had 'friends' that she would chat with during class and intermissions, like Dayta, Siri and others who she misses very much. But unlike a wide swath of other people in Panem, 'friends' meant something entirely different to people like her - like Threes. 'In Three's hyper-academic world, 'friends' means future connections. In that case, she had plenty of 'friends' on her rolodex and she barely graduated high school. It's been so long since she's done...that, simple, casual conversation without a looming threat. She wishes she were back with Wondr'a, she was playing it real safe too - if not too safe to the point of obliviousness. But Maia and her would've played it safe until the very end. She also wishes she hadn't pushed away Laelia. As efficient as it was being alone in here, she can't help but shake off the wonder of what them as a duo would've brought to her time in this arena. Maybe if she just came out and casually went up to them, they'd let her join them? Maybe Vera did have a solid plan...
No,no,no - stop it. Maia shakes her head, effectively freeing herself of the doubt she'd just experienced. You're in the Hunger Games, where smiles and human conversation can immediately dissolve into a bloody melee for your life. This...'alliance' will only end in tears and sheer hatred and besides...She glares at Tuesday Suetos and Kaviraya Parathi. She has a questionable history with some of these tributes that can't be easily expunged.
So, like she's been doing since day one, she'll bide her time and wait for an opportunity to swipe the crown from their paws when they all least expect it. When her communicuff vibrates against her forearm, she glances down at it, looking at the emblem of clouds and 'blowing wind' with intrigue. She takes note of the coordinates and slips away from her hideout.
Tuesday had been glancing around their space, alert, in preparation for when the Gamemakers decided Panem needed a new victor. So when the wind began to kick up, violently stirring up dust and causing the trees to quiver and as the sky began to darken with overcast, she wasn't as shaken as her 'allies' were, casually rising to her feet while the others scramble upward.
The group glances up toward the sky where the biome emblem is prominently displayed. Vera is the one to call it out. "Looks like its starting! High wind from what it looks like. And, the arena boundary is shrinking!" In quick succession, her head snaps down to her communicuff where a waypoint was marked. "They want us to go this way!"
Tuesday wastes no time, ditching her bag as she too regards her communicuff and runs in the prescribed direction, northwest - back towards the mountains. Seeing this, the others ditch their non-essential kitting in an attempt to free themselves for the run over. This was it for Tuesday, very soon this will all be over and she'll be able to return back to her practice and perhaps discover something new with Dr. Jaxter. Yes...That'd be very nice. All she had to do now was hone herself. She's fought and killed two people already, what are a few more walking bodies of meat to carve up - Careers included? The only time she has been genuinely scared was her time in the reaping pool as a teen. When that was in the rearview mirror, she never let anyone or thing inhibit her from pursuing what she wanted in life. These Games were one of those things and her actions show this.
Bring on whatever you must.
Wordlessly, Tuesday and her 'alliance' begin to sprint to the area the Gamemakers designated for them. The wind was blowing in sideways, frontwards, essentially - they were caught up in a wind tunnel that made her feel as if she were about to get sucked into a torrent of sorts at any given moment. Despite this, she continues to power forward - although it doesn't feel like it, as the feeling of her being sucked backwards was constant while they ran. And it seems she is making progress, as the arid landscape around them began to transition into a jungle oasis of sorts. The sand was kicking up tremendously, coupled with greenery, buffeting her and rendering her vision nearly blind.
"Stick together!" Veradisia calls out to them. As Tuesday looks over to her, she was basically a shadowy blob through the storm. Tuesday yelps aloud, but her alarm is quickly quelled as Kaviraya clutches her hand.
"If...It all...goes to shit..." he pants.
"Say no more..." Tuesday breathes in reply. If the District 2 female survived what Veradisia Smith said she did, she wasn't a Career to be trifled with. Neither was the District 2 male, who managed to slither away and survive until now. If they somehow fail - either by the Careers being in tip-top condition or this storm divides them - as the Gamemakers are probably intending to, then Tuesday considers this ramshackle alliance null and void.
As soon as her communicuff's screen glows green - meaning that she's in the area designated for them - she immediately stumbles to a halt, panting raggedly. Her true ally is in similar shape, as the two bond over this by using each other to calm themselves. They made it. The others join her and Kaviraya in rapid order, panting just as heavily as they did.
"I'm glad we're all here in relatively one piece..." Veradisia comments, caressing her midsection that was only just treated for a stab wound hours ago.
"You know," Zahira drawls, "For all our buddy-buddy bonding just now, we never discussed a strategy in regards to dealing with the Careers."
Tuesday nods. Though that information was important on its own, they'd neglected as a group to come up with a proper way to deal with a Peacekeeper Officer and a seasoned former-cadet.
"It's quite simple really." Veradisia breathes, "If we see them...we box them in and go for it."
"Imagine the...arena right now as one circle that's getting...smaller and smaller." Kaviraya chimes in. "It'd be stupid to rush to the middle and wait..."
Vera turns to him. "So...what do you propose?"
"We ring around the circle until the last possible moment." Tuesday says. "Chances are, they'd be active in trying to wipe us out, so while they're busy looking forward..."
"...We'll be behind them, catching them unawares." Vera continues, elation on her face as the Sixes nod in agreement. "That's a splendid idea. Let's do it then."
Tuesday and her alliance hunch low as the forcefield continues to adjust to its new boundary. She clings to a pair of knives in her hands like a lifeline. She had passed this hurdle, now onto the next.
As the wind continues to bounce through the jungle canopy, causing foliage to rain down upon her, Wondr'a pounds through a puddle of tepid water as she continues to sprint for her life from the Careers that were just meters away. As Wondr'a dashes through the underbrush, she bounding up and down each time her feet collide against the ground, her stomach rolls with nausea and her head was killing her as her eyes develop tunnel vision. She swears she 'throws up' as she sprints but due to her stomach's contents being so low, it came out as a dry heave. 'Ahead' was all her brain screams at here but ahead for what? For all she knows, she could be running from one threat and crashing face-first into another. Just keep running. So she does, zigzagging from tree to tree all while casting an eye backward in an attempt to keep tabs on her pursuers. Wondr'a doesn't notice that her path was about to take a drastic change in layout.
She runs and runs, feeling the ground sink underneath her boots until she doesn't. Before she could get her mind straight, she finds herself tumbling down an escarpment. Despite being caught unaware, Wondr'a quickly makes sure to tuck her body inwards, minimizing the tangling of her limbs against the roots and underbrush. With a wail of pain, she lands hard - belly first - causing agony to course through her body and to dry heave once more. Tears streaming from her eyes, she clambers to her knees and attempts to breathe but all she does his hyperventilate. Even with the accident in her office and the resulting hospitalization, she has never felt pain this prominent.
You're gonna feel a lot more pain if you don't get up off your feet and go. If she was gonna die, she'd die on her own terms, not by the Careers'.
Fighting her exhausted body, Wondr'a rises to her feet and quickly teeters through the brush, scrambling up the nearest, sturdy tree and suspending herself as high as she can - thanking the Gods for her Mama's teaching her how to dangle. She was sweating buckets are her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird's wings. The wind was picking up something fierce, causing her and the already flimsy greenery around her to sway vigorously with the gust. She checked her communicuff quickly, elated that she was in the clear - within the newly defined boundary. She quiets her breathing to the best of her ability as the commotion of the Careers rustling through the foliage and snapping branches breaks through the howling wind. She was safe but for how long? Wondr'a sees the girl from Two first, her hair whipping back and forth as she stomps through the clearing.
"Where'd she go!?"
"Probably still running given how loud you are." The Two boy claps back, rushing to her side. "It doesn't matter. She's not going anywhere soon."
"Fuck it, let's split up - cover more ground that way," The Two woman says. "If it's us two at the end, it's us two at the end."
Wondr'a watches as the two of them shuffle off elsewhere, letting out an audible sigh of relief. That relief is short-lived, however, as it quickly morphs into an epiphany - a realization. What the hell am I doing here?
Well...You volunteered, Wondr'a.
"Why did you volunteer, really?" Maia blurted suddenly as we walked back to the mill.
I know I volunteered, but it wasn't for fame or money like some of these other people. I volunteered to be free. I was gonna jump off that pedestal and things would be okay. I'd be with Momma, where ever she was...But what happened to Theilan's words, Maia's words, Paisley's words, Otel's words?!
She recalls Theilan's interactions with her and how pitying they were. She remembers Zahira's face of annoyance toward her.
I'm sorry if I'm provin..." Wondr'a swallowed as she gestured with her hands as if she were trying to conjure up the proper words. "To be a bother to y'all..."
"You're not a 'bother' to us, Wondr'a," Theilan piped up as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You just need to settle down a little. I'm sure you have plenty of people back home and you deserve a chance to get back to them."
"Life wasn't good after my accident..." she bemoaned to Theilan a day after that. "It wasn't even good before it."
"There's a lot of people back home - heck in the country - that were relying people like you..." Maia continued.
In her designated waiting parlor in the Hall of Justice, Otel, as if he were a babe instead of eighteen, clung to Wondr'a's lap and bawled into her dress. All while, two-year-old Gloria watches on in sad confusion.
"Why Wondr'a, why volunteer?! Folks need you here - I need you here!"
Wondr'a frowned as she caressed his broad back. She cranes her head downward, her delicate hands bunched up his cheeks as she planted a tear-stained kiss on his lips. Otel understood her, but he doesn't at the same time.
That was the thing though! They didn't rely on me because of me - only a handful of people did. Governor Wallace, Eleven's government, my own folks - they relied on my because of what I had to offer. Be it toward that stupid computer virus or bolstering the family name. They didn't care about Wondr'a the individual - the tree hugger, the free spirit - the bohemian. The type of woman who instead of jockeying a desk would prefer mediating outdoors, would prefer to study alternative methods of living than pretending to enjoy Governor Wallace and his cabal of white men and uncle Toms' disparaging remarks about her fellow Eleveners.
Wondr'a halts her line of thought when she smells something off in the air. The foliage had become far more pungent as the air grew dry...and smoky. Before she knew it, the trees around her were becoming engorged in flames. Before she too could be enveloped in the flames, she quickly leaps down from her tree and watches in awe - the flames reflected in her pupils as it too is set alight from top to bottom. All around her bits of charred greenery flitter to the ground like snowflakes. It was as if the arena morphed into hell itself. In Wondr'a's eyes, this arena was hell. It wasn't supposed to be. It was supposed to be an easy out. And it still can be.
Dropping her spear, knives and makeshift crossbow with tears streaming down her eyes, Wondr'a stumbles through the burning jungle with a slight hack every now and then. She's near ignorant of the palm tree that topples just feet away from her, licking her face with additional heat. Out of all the people that were possibly left alive, she was probably the least qualified to get out. She wasn't a fighter in the literal sense of the word. The mines under the platform were supposed to be the easier option, but there was still one more...And there was that option, just meters away.
Otel was a nice, handsome young man. He'd find love multiple times, if not get back with Gloria's mother. Like with Momma's death, Dad will brush himself off and shut off his feelings. The same goes for her step-siblings.
"Hey!" Wondr'a cries hoarsely, catching the attention of the Two boy who pivots to face her.
Sol eyes the District 11 woman, standing proudly with her chin held high, with curiosity. During training, he didn't peg her for much trouble. When she volunteered and went through the process with him, it was obvious that she wanted to escape and somehow wounded up here in the finale. It was clear to him now as he readies and arrow and drew his bow. Why would she want Sarissa around? She'd do her a lot worse.
He wastes no time aiming through the reticule and firing his bow.
Wondr'a flinches for a hairline of a second as the bolt whizzes through the air, gasping as it pierces her heart just as quickly. The agony is immense as Wondr'a stumbles backward onto the ground. Each breath she draws produces blood rather than air as her head lolls onto the ground so that she faces the burning foliage up above and a brief glimpse of the sky. It hurts so, so very much...but it won't for long. In fact, Wondr'a was starting to get very, very tired. It was okay now, though. She could finally rest now. She was finally free.
Hey Momma, I'ma comin'.
As he circles the circumference of Theilan flinches as a cannon roars overhead. He'd be surprised if were a Career but he highly doubts that was the case. Wondr'a's face flashes in his vision and his heart twinges with guilt. Who else would it be? The Three girl is as crafty as crafty can be and the Twos were indestructible. He immediately thinks back to the brief moments he had with the young Eleven woman, and the fruitful conversations he had with her. Hers was a terrible case, he knew, but her death was a double-edged sword. If she lived and had one, Theilan thinks life would've improved for her. If she died - as she might of just now - at least she was finally free.
"Wooooah!" he blurts out as Zahira's hand grips his collar and she tugs him aside, just in time before flaming mass of foliage fell on top of him. He openly gawks at the bushel, only for Zahira's hand to grip him by the jaw and force him to look at her.
"Pay attention," she hisses harshly. Theilan peers over her shoulder to see that the rest of their alliance was staring back at them.
"Right, sorry, you're right. Paying attention now..." he replies, regulating his breathing in an attempt to hone himself in. It wasn't entirely working. Inside he was a mess. Eight people were left and very very soon it'll be seven...and then six...Theilan's eyes constantly dart every which way, petrified that the Careers were tailing them instead of the other way around. If they could conjure up wind storms and fires, what else would the Gamemakers do? Just like that flaming mass Zahira saved him from, just one wrong move and it'd be over.
He wasn't in the market for making wrong moves, not right now.
He's so close. So close to picking Tanav off the ground and swinging him around. So close to having Neha in his arms and feeling the swell of her stomach. So close to having that swell be his daughter in his arms.
"I don't think we should move anymore." Zahira announces, halting in place and causing Theilan to crash into her back.
"Why...not?" Vera replies, hacking at the smoke that seems to grow thicker by the minute.
"Look, we're on the high ground." Zahira says, motioning to the small escarpment we kneel on. "We could probably see them before they see us."
Tuesday seems to agree, nodding along. "All of us slinking along like an accordion will probably result in the latter than the former..." she adds.
Veradisia eyes the four of them before she too nods along. They were right. Especially with Solomon's bows, they'd be an easy target clumped up together. "Alright, luckily for us I have a way of getting them to us."
That makes Theilan feel a lot better. Instead of seeking Sarissa and Solomon out, something that wasn't their expertise as non-Careers, it'd do them a lot better to bide their time before plotting an attack. Before any of them could inquire, Vera slides down the escarpment and takes off into a jog. "If I don't come back and a cannon fires, you're on your own."
Whereas all the tributes were in various stages of anxiousness, Sarissa Levesque on the other hand is happy.
No...'Happy' was an understatement. She's jubilant, she's elated. Sure she's a little 'anxious', as its during Hunger Games moments like these that non-Careers get a little uppity - as for them, doing anything was on the table if it meant getting out here and back to their meager lives. She'd seen it happen to a handful of Careers before her, like Diana and Gwen Faraday. Besides that she felt bulletproof. If she could 'die' and come roaring back onto the scene, then taking down seven more tributes wouldn't be a problem at all. Now...if only she could find them and get this shit over with.
The biome isn't meant to outright kill, Sarissa figures as she picks a direction opposite of Solomon and treks there in hopes of bagging a tribute or two. If they were in any genuine danger, she'd be on the ground gasping for air and her opponents would too. The ground is singed black and brown, is quaked and glows with an orange tinge, as if it could give way and overflow with magma at any given time. While Sarissa bush-bashes through the singed vegetation, her communicuff vibrates against her skin. She hunches down low and quickly regards the device, grunting at the exclamation mark sent to her by Jaspy. Shit Jaspy, that's a pretty vague message you're sendin' me. Besides the obvious warning of 'imminent danger' she mostly disregards the message and continues to trudge through the green with her spear in her hands and her swords fastened on either side of her hips.
She bursts into another clearing, pausing to take a slight breather when Veradisia, her albino skin and platinum blonde hair sticking out against the burning scenery like night and day, emerges from the opposite side.
Just as the Twelve girl blurts out a cheeky "Hello there." Sarissa lets her spear fly. She barks out a harsh curse as Vera narrowly dodges the projectile, flopping onto her stomach as the spear skewers itself into a tree behind her. The Career only scoffs, abandoning her spear and braking out into a jog as Veradisia scrambles onto her feet and stumbles back into the foliage she emerged out of. Sarissa had envisioned a finale in which she would effortlessly make an example out of the reb spawn for the nation to see. But killing her now is just as much of a treat - as it'll allow her to focus on the task at hand without worrying about her underhanded tactics screwing her over. She never lets the little bitch out of her sight. There would be no meathead from Isla Nieve to save you this time, Twelve. Veradisia disappears behind a deep thicket and Sarissa dives in after her, she wasn't going to let her escape - not this time.
They emerge to a clearing, a hill flanking them to their left. Sarissa remembers this portion of the arena being the hill she and Snow Island fought on. The cave wasn't far from here. This however didn't take precedent in her mind. It was the mere fact that Veradisia was standing idly by with a shit-eating grin on her face. The Career glares at the younger girl. The fuck was so funny?
Just as she follows Twelve's eyes to their left, she gets an arrow to the collarbone.
"Yeah, real nice Twelve," Sarissa claps back bitterly, laughing dryly as she rips the bolt out of her and flicks it to the ground. In a three hundred and sixty degree circle, she slowly eyes her surroundings as Five, Twelve man and the Sixes emerge from out of hiding, directing her attention back to Veradisia who grins from ear to ear. As she withdraws both her swords, Sarissa had to admit, they were bold as fuck. If she were them, she'd do the same thing they did. Otherwise, she'd be minced meat. "Reaaaaal nice...I see that you still can't do fuck all without stringin' along a buncha suckers t'do it for you! I'm kinda flattered!"
You'd have to hold her down and slowly strip her of her appendages or something to admit it because deep down, Sarissa was ever so slightly concerned for her wellbeing. Her eye was hadn't failed her yet. She hopes to Snow that it'll suffice enough for her to get out of this.
Tuesday was never one for useless chatter - especially during a situation like this - pushing aside Veradisia and lobbing a knife toward Sarissa. Sarissa dives to the ground, clambering right back upward as the five of them charge her like a mutt to meat. Sarissa feints swiping toward them in an attempt to keep them at bay, quickly moving back toward the trees in an attempt to create confusion. Without ease of access, they won't know what to do. Sarissa is right, all of them are cautious in their movements toward her. A fireball collides into a nearby tree, setting it ablaze while it teeters and tumbles toward the ground, splitting the group in two as they all scramble to safety.
Sarissa grins as she flickers her vision to each and every opponent on her end of the tree. The Sixes and the Katniss wannabe. Who to choose, who to choose...
Zahira lets out a startled cry as Sarissa pivots toward her and swings one of her swords toward her chest. She responds by swinging her knife downward to at least cancel out the sword, but it was that sword that was being used as a ruse so Sarissa's secondary sword can go to work. The Career plunges the second sword into Zahira's thigh, causing the Six woman to wail out in agony.
By principle, Theilan charges forward from the left. His intentions are tactless at heart, giving Sarissa enough room to reply by tearing the sword out of Zahira's thigh and flicking it toward his face. As Zahira drops to the ground, Theilan stops in his tracks and recoils backward, tumbling to the ground crying out as his vision goes red. With the diagonal gash across his face gushing blood, he thinks he's gone blind for a second or two.
In rapid succession, Veradisia comes in from the right and strikes downward. In the nick of time, Sarissa forms an 'x' with her blades, using her strength to push the Twelve girl back. As Vera recoils - her leg protruding outward, Sarissa slams her sword onto her bootless foot. Due to the black material of the wetsuit, Sarissa isn't sure if she severed something but judging from the blood that jets out and the scream Twelve emits, she did something right.
Kaviraya takes full advantage, rushing forward and striking Sarissa on her hip with his hatchet. She howls out a curse, spinning to meet the Twelve man as she plants a sword into his shoulder. Kaviraya drops onto a singular knee and the screech of utter distress that emits from his mouth paid for his wounding of her in full. Before she could crown the top of his head with her other sword, a knife sinks itself into her bicep, colliding against the bone, compelling her to drop the sword in question and hiss out sharply in pain.
Tuesday readies another knife, not showing any hint of distress - she was very much so - as Sarissa vaults over the overturned tree and makes a beeline for the Five woman, the knife still embedded in her arm. Tuesday lobs one knife and then another, only for Sarissa to shuffle side to side, avoiding the knives while she lunges forward and slashes out at her. Tuesday narrowly avoids getting disemboweled, instead earning a just as nasty cut from her right breast to her left rib. Tuesday gasps, crumpling to the ground as the wetness soaks the entirety of her chest. Even her bandolier of knives became unraveled, cut in two from the sword. Before Tuesday could even react, Sarissa scrunches her hair up in her free hand and tugs hard. Tuesday tries to fight back but she simply can't fight back hard enough, as each time she wrings against the Career's grasp, she fees the open wound across her abdomen become irritated to the nth degree. She could only hobble along as Sarissa tugs her toward a...tree? No, a burning tree that was charred black and glowing with embers still. Despite her wound she tries to fight back but Sarissa holds steadfast, pulling her as close as she can to the embers before swapping her hand for her boot - pressing it against the Five woman's head as she pushes just a little bit harder...Ah, there's the sizzle. To Sarissa, it was like placing meat on a grill, except this time the meat shrieks back at her and reeks of singed hair and flesh. It was interesting to her to see such a stoic person like Five squeal like a little bitch, so she presses even harder, causing the screams of agony to reach fever pitch.
Behind her, she fails to notice Kaviraya stumbling toward her.
As Sarissa towers over the Five woman and continues to brand her face against the burning tree, listening to the shrieks that now become defeated wails, her 'fun' is immediately interrupted by a sword - her sword, being thrust into her abdomen.
Agh, shit! Shocked, Sarissa gasps at the hot, piercing pain that bursts through her chest while immediately swiveling her head toward the Twelve man. He rips the blade out and she stumbles to her knees, her mouth tasting of crimson as it dribbles out of her mouth. That hot piercing pain becoming a cold piercing pain as the blood continues to flow uncontrollably out of her. From her left eye - her only eye - she sees the rest of them stumbling over. With a wobbly, clammy hand, Sarissa fumbles with her inner breast pocket. As far as she was concerned, if she was going down, she was going with a bang - pain be damned. I belly flopped off a twenty fuckin' foot obstacle course, this was somethin' but it ain't nothing either.
Before Kaviraya could strike her again, Sarissa hones her strength and springs toward him, tackling him to the ground. It all happens so fast. The sword skating out of reach, Kaviraya could only watch - astonished, as Sarissa withdraws a knife and plunges it into his chest, ripping it out and plunging it in, ripping it out and plunging it in.
As he chokes on the blood that pools in his throat, Sarissa continues her assault. As she raises the knife once more and prepares to slam it down, her forearm is hooked by Theilan's sickle. She lets out a pained wail as the Six man drags her by the sickle off of Kaviraya and onto the ground beside him. Theilan looms over her, regarding her with pity even though she nearly blinded him. Both Zahira and Veradisia feel the bipolar opposite of 'pity', as they brandish their weapons and glare down at the Two with scorn.
He, Theilan, promised himself that he'd never be a mindless automaton the way the Capitol wants him to be. He steps back, allowing the girls to have their way. His eyes immediately snap onto Kaviraya, who continues to rasp out in agony, dropping onto his knees if not to render aid - then to just be there.
Sarissa was getting weaker, but she wasn't about to let these assholes get their day. Veradisia hobbles closer and attempts to slam her sword down onto Sarissa, earning a stiff boot to the stomach in return as she staggers backwards. On her right - her blind spot - Zahira drops to the ground and plunges her knife into Sarissa's chest.
The jig was up. Sarissa stills now, blood erupting from her throat as she begins to gag on the life essence that drowns her from the inside out. Her spirit was willing to go on, but her body wasn't. Fighting tooth and nail to keep her eyes focused, she regards the knife embedded in her chest, the glare from the Six woman, the smirk on Veradisia's face as she raises her sword to get a hit in and...Oh wow...
She laughs.
Puzzled, Vera and Zahira glance at each other before returning their focus to the guffawing Career. Just some meters away, she sees a distinct silhouette. Vera and Zahira see it too, after a brief bout of confusion. He is one crafty motherfucker, Sarissa thinks to herself. It hurts so much but Sarissa can't help it. She laughs even harder, the blood causing the noise to come out as a warbled mess.
The silhouette launches something that streaks closer and closer before her world, for the briefest of moments, is filled with a soul-shattering rumble and unbearable heat.