XXXVI. LUST
And as the cranes go chanting forth their lays,
Making in air a long line of themselves,
So saw I coming, uttering lamentations.
If you love somebody, fight for them, right?
That's a popular thing people say from time to time, and yes, love is something worth fighting for.
This ring is not for love, it's for lust. Though those lines blur often, don't they?
If you're infatuated with somebody's value and not their being, that's not love, it's lust. If you love their body more than their soul, it's lust.
And lust only consumes.
It claws and it breaks until you're left either heartbroken or dead. And maybe, just maybe, death is the better option.
(Though you mustn't strive for either.)
Haymitch Abernathy. 17.
Victor of The 50th Hunger Games.
Tribute Apartments. 1:05.
He doesn't realize how empty the apartment would be now that Shuki and Josiah aren't staying in it. They weren't loud necessarily when they lived there, but their presence was certainly noticed. And maybe Haymitch is being dramatic when he thinks, I miss the kids, as he tries to go to sleep, because Jo was flamboyant and dramatic and Shuki was… Shuki. Maybe he really shouldn't be missing people who he only knew for a few days and had no particularly strong feelings about, but hey, it's better than missing my mother or my father or my sisters… or fuck I miss my boyfriend… Oh, I'll shut up Noel is alive, everyone else is dead I should be missing them for fucks sake. Yet Haymitch has had trouble sleeping at night all week without Noel. Sleep was never something that came particularly easy to him. When he was his kid, his mother would have to sit besides him for hours until the night clouded his mind, and after she died, Haymitch relied on his father or Noel when available to ease him into slumber, but I can't fucking do that now, can I?
All his life he's been with people, been with his sisters or with his parents and well, now for the first time since he was all alone in the arena after Maysilee died, Haymitch Abernathy is all alone, and fuck he hates it. And it's been so hard for Haymitch to fall sleep without anybody besides him to help. Yeah, sure, he could theoretically have been all, "Hey, Shuki! Hey Jo! Will one of you sit by your supposed big strong mentor to help him fall asleep?" But no, of course he didn't do that, I'm not trying to have people think I'm the next Pascal Packard or something for Panem's sake. And that shit would be disparaging to the very small bit of pride that Haymitch still has. What would people do if they found out the all-mighty Quell Victor still needed his mommy or his boyfriend to fall asleep? Lord, I'm an embarrassment.
But who the fuck is going to help Haymitch sleep? Everyone's probably laughing at him now because he's probably the worst Mentor of all time since neither of the kids even made it out of the first four deaths. Then again, how the fuck was I supposed to mentor them? I didn't have a mentor; I don't know shit! And all Shuki did was spread lies, and Jo just wanted to do makeup so what was Haymitch supposed to do, take a glamorous beating to the face? Nasty. And maybe he should be crying right now but for the love of Panem, Haymitch Abernathy can't cry because that's showing weakness and even if he's not in front of anybody, he can't be weak, he's a Victor, I'm an embarrassment, he can't slip up even if he's alone because… fuck, then they'll find another way to hurt him, to pull out his nails from their roots, fuck they'll take Noel won't they, oh fuck no… and he still doesn't know what he did wrong.
The main rule of the Hunger Games is to do whatever it takes to survive… if that's all, I did then why am I being punished. And Haymitch can't help but fear the remaining Tributes will do something to end up just the way he is… alone.
He thinks about the people still alive, the Careers are, well most of them. And maybe one of them would be the ideal Victor, but then there's also the kids from Eleven, and that one really large alliance. Haymitch sighs, it really is anybody's game, especially when the tiny girl from Eight killed somebody in cold blood.
Much to think about… and he doesn't know why he's even bothering when nothing will change the fact he failed at the job he had no idea how to even do in the first place. But maybe Haymitch is just so damn bored of it all that he could try to find the Games entertaining. He could pretend they're a movie or something, yeah that's fun, right?
It turns out, Haymitch doesn't know what that word means. And it turns out "fun" isn't watching a bunch of poor children die either. He knows this in his heart, yet he still finds himself intrigued by everything that's happening in the arena.
Only one of them can win and he can practically feel the tension brewing in the alliances, everyone seemingly in constant state of frustration. Maybe his kids did it right by dying before people could get mad at them, no, Shuki surely ruffled some feathers. It's just a tough pill for Haymitch to swallow, the way the arena was literally up in flames, like the volcano from his Games but worse, yet it went off without any injuries. Yet something's brewing in there, Haymitch can feel it.
It would just be a matter of time…
Calathea Matheny. 18.
District Eleven Female.
Loveless Woods, West. 3:29.
All in all, Calathea considers her first day in the arena to be one of great success. Chandler was in his place nearly the entire time, not misbehaving or anything, perfectly obedient to her, and they managed to get a fair bit of supplies from the Cornucopia and the surrounding village too. Oh, and there was the two kills she accomplished, the girl from Five and that measly excuse for a Career girl, Four was it? Calathea can't say she cares to remember all that much, besides, she's already dead. What was more enjoyable than the fiesta girl with buzzed hair's screams, hell, more enjoyable than the way Five sighed as she choked on her own tongue was the way the One boy reacted.
And then just letting him go… letting her presence now linger in the back of his mind until she strikes again, because lord knows Calathea Matheny'll find that arrogant cuck of a man soon enough, and then, on then she'll really get to have her fun. The Five girl was just warmup, all things considered. She'd need somebody huskier if she wanted to put on a real show for everyone. Calathea can wait, she knows she'll have time.
"Why did we let One go again?" Chandler scratches his head as they stop in their tracks upon arriving at a forrest of dead trees and grey skies. They'd been walking for maybe three hours or a bit more after the arena turned it's tides on them, the floor on fire beneath the pair as they ran… well, for their lives. Actually no, Calathea never runs for her life. She masquerades away from her death, and even if she's moving slow and with caution, it'll never catch up to her. She's the sort of woman who dies but more importantly lives on her own terms, and an inferno's nothing to her. But Chandler's… something, "Seriously, we could've killed him right then and there."
"But would that be very fun?" Calathea snickers and rests her wrist on his shoulders, flicking her fingers at hair, "Honestly Chandler, would it?"
"This isn't supposed to be fun, actually," He moves her hand and shrugs his shoulders, "My job is to get you out of here alive, and not killing him when we had the chance sort of goes against that."
She sighs… the One boy's her target, the person she wants to take down and get her hands dirty with. Because he's just so… lazy and worthless. Calathea watched the Pack like a hawk, or rather a crow. She knows his allies on the outs with him, and well, she can't blame them. He's insufferable, everything father told me I shouldn't be… She saw the way he wanted to lead in training, the way he screamed at the Two boy (another unfortunate story) on the first day of training, all because he wanted power, yet he wasn't worthy of it. Calathea found that he was quite inaffective in his attempts to lead, flaunting about with the pomposity of a bald eagle, knowing nothing of strategy and instead just showing off his honestly mediocre abilities with weaponry. She almost pities him, emphasis on almost, since if there's one thing Calathea hates more than awful people in power, it's people in power who do absolutely nothing with it… just such a waste. And he went around gambling his power with Two like it was a joke. How was he not certain that he'd lose, at least he has some sort of tact. I'm impressed he got a nine when all I saw was low score behavior from him in the center. Maybe he has some tricks up his sleeve, being as he did absolutely demolish the boy from Eight, but Calathea doubts it. Decapitation's easy enough… it's the longer, more drawn out kills that take any real skill.
"Live a little," She laughs at Chandler and sits on the ground making circles in the dirt with her hands smiling almost, "When are you going to have this much freedom ever again."
"You really think this is freedom?" He rolls his eyes and seats himself beside her, his back pressed against a large fallen branch, "And for the record, the answer to your question is never, because… um, the whole point of me being here is to ensure you're the one who lives, no me."
Calathea pauses, oft' forgetting that Chandler's going to have to die if she wants to survive. Well, she knows that, and hearing him know it too is a good indicator that that'll actually happen, but then she thinks, Well wouldn't that make him want to embrace these circumstances we're in?
"So all the better reason for you to try to enjoy it, Chan," She looks him in the eye, a rarity, "It's almost relaxing here, you know? Nobody telling us to do things in rapid succession like how it was back home. We're able to take our time."
Seriously, Calathea's found a bit of serenity to the whole Hunger Games thing. And that's not to say she didn't enjoy being in Eleven, no, she loves her life there, and sure she's eager to return but there's something to be said about not following her father's hectic schedule, being ushered from task to task without any time to catch a break. She's able to play the field on her own terms now, and that means killing when she pleases, not whenever Marake taps her on the shoulder and whispers, "I need you to help me take care of something," in her ear. It means she can slowly torture her victims to their doom instead of the swift slashes to the throat and gunshots she used to know. And it's more fun like that too. Calathea's accepted her purpose here is to kill others, and well, she might as well have some fun with it… and lord knows I need fun in my life. Hell, the last time I had anything close to fun was with… never mind, I've forgotten already.
"And you enjoy slowly killing people? You enjoy watching the light leave their eyes like you're some sort of a movie villain who everybody is supposed to hate?" Chandler questions her before mimicking an dramatic laugh from one of the old films they watched at home during a rare situation where they had nothing to do, "You want to sound like that," He laughs again, "Mwa ha ha ha ha."
"Yes, actually," Is what Calathea wants to say, because for fucks sake being hated is better than being ignored. Being a villain is better than being somebody that fades into the background and is forgotten by everybody. But Calathea doesn't say that. Instead she thinks of the life she's lead thus far, the people she's met and mudered as a punishment for inadequacy, because hell, it's all she knows. And a part of Calathea mourns that, the childhood she can't for the life of her remember and the way something must've gone wrong for her to end up… like this. But there's no point in thinking about the past when her future's so much more exciting. She has a business to run some day, she has people to lead, people to see her as valuable (Is that really what I want?), so the past must be in the past for a reason.
And to Chandlers inquiry, Calathea answers, "Well that's what I'm supposed to do, right?" It's a mediocre response, but for once perhaps he's stumped her.
"You don't have to brutally murder everyone," He giggles, a certain familiar warmth present that Calathea can't quite place in her broken house of memories, "If you're going to kill people, I won't stop you but just be quick with it."
She's annoyed at him, "Aren't you supposed to do whatever I tell you to do?"
"Well, yeah," He shrugs, "But that was just a suggestion."
Part of Calathea wants to actually consider what Chandler said because hell, maybe it would be nice just floating by, seeing the birds in the trees and playing it by year until actual decisions had to be made. Maybe it would be nice to actually relax for once in her life, and not relax as in kill people slowly, relax as in try to enjoy the world around her.
But she can't.
Because her father's watching and he expects nothing but perfection from his little girl. He expects brutality and slaughter in copious amounts, all while Chandler stands idly by and even encourages her. And Calathea wants it too. She wants the bloodshed and the horror and the look in people's eyes when they realize they're her next target. She wants the pleasure she gets from every stab, every flap of skin peeled over, every drop of blood on the ground. Calathea wants an empire. She wants to be in power and she wants everybody to fear her and the things she'll do to them if they don't abide by her ways.
(It's all Calathea knows to want.)
She's her father's daughter, after all.
Ludovicus Jornmark. 18.
District Two Male.
Loveless Woods, Center. 8:05.
He's getting a bit frustrated. It's not directly in front of him yet Ludo can feel bits and pieces of the Pack tearing apart from the seams and he isn't quite sure what to do about it. Ludo understands why the alliance is breaking, or at least is close to it. For starters, it wasn't exactly incredibly cohesive to begin with, mainly due to Hesson… well, being himself… and he's still being himself even now, and that just lead to a whole separate mess. For hours now, Ludo's dealt with Hesson's complaining "We need to find District Eleven and kill them," over and over until he wanted to stab himself in the ear and blow out his eardrums. It's excruciating, even if Ludo does understand where Hesson's coming from. The Eleven kids did kill Meridian, Ludo doesn't have trouble believing that, but there's something about Hesson's insistence that they had four bloodbath kills that doesn't sit right with him. Perhaps it's the fact Magnificence so adamantly disagreed, and well she doesn't have any reason to like, unlike Hesson. And part of him wants to sympathize with him, he did just lose a friend, but damn he's being so annoying about it, acting like he's known Meridian for years when it's really only been a week, not at all like Ludo and Cy—
"We got something from the sky," The girl in question smiles and shakes a medium-sized grey package with "For District Two" written in bold on it in front of Ludo's face. He'd been too lost in thought to see the delivery, it seems. Ludo grabs onto the nylon material before Cyra pulls it away from him, "Hey, I'm opening it, bitchboy," he laughs at her teasing, "I found it."
She pulls opens the draw string and rummages through tissue paper wrapping, throwing a white envelope on the ground which prompts Ludo to interject, "You're so rude Cyra," crouching to the ground to pick up the card and saying, "Didn't your mother teach you to read the card before you open gifts?"
"Well she was a bit busy teaching that I'm supposed to kill you for that," Cyra shrugs her shoulders and for a moment Ludo tenses up until she laughs, "Oh my lord, no that was a joke, you're fine."
Ludo lets out a relieved sigh, not too sure what he was thinking as he tears through the heavy paper envelope to reveal a white sheet of paper with gold embossed designs around the edges and fancy cursive lettering which reads:
District Two has always been our favorite…
Look at you cuties, the action star and his friend teaming together to lead your alliance to success. We just can't get enough of you two, goodness. You're doing amazing work and we hope you appreciate this little token of our love.
Cheers,
Magnolia and Elaine!
He recites the message to Cyra and smirks, "It seems we've got fans, Cy."
"Please," She continues to dig through the tissue paper mumbling "Holy shit, there's so much," under her breath with every piece, "You've always had fans."
"And now you do too," Ludo ruffles his hands through her curly hair and pats his friend on the back, "Which you deserved a long time ago."
Finally, Cyra's able to get rid of all the wrapping unveiling two crowns composed of daffodils, sunflowers, poppies, and roses (Ludo knows his flowers, thanks to her) intertwined together amidst lush green leaves. She examines the wearable bouquet in her fingers beaming, "This is amazing!" again and again before placing it atop her head and handing the other crown to Ludo.
He's never quite understood Cyra's fascination with flowers but he's always respected it and while there's a part of him that wants to ask, "Why couldn't they have sent us something useful?" he holds it inside because hey, at least she's happy.
For a moment Ludo's content, just the two of them standing there as if nothing's wrong but of course their joy's quickly crushed by Hesson calling out, "Can you two stop being obsessed with one another and actually help?"
And just like that reality sinks back in, Ludo nods his head, "Right," and walks a few steps over to a disgruntled Hesson looking around, "What do you need," He tries his best to sound cordial.
"I could've sworn they went off in this direction," Ludo doesn't even need to ask to know who Hesson's talking about, "You saw them too, right?"
"He already told you he didn't," Magnificence rolls her eyes from next to him, "So are you going to listen to him or just mope and insist we walk around aimlessly?"
"Fuck you," Hesson grunts and Ludo feels bad as Magnificence shudders. He walks close to Ludo and looks him in the eyes, their noses nearly touching, "I'm asking if you saw them or not."
Ludo backs away from him, "I told you I didn't. Listen to Magnificence, for Panem's sake."
"She's a liar," Hesson pouts, "She's going out and lying that Eleven didn't kill all those people, probably to piss me off because she wishes they killed me too."
"I do not," Magnificence sneers in response, "I'm just telling you what I saw, I'm sorry it doesn't fit with your shitty little narrative."
"Are we really still arguing over this?" Saia finally speaks up, "It's been almost a day, I think, and we're still arguing over whether or not the Eight girl killed somebody."
"Apparently," Magnificence stares at Hesson and sighs, "Somebody here just can't accept the truth."
"I am once again asking why the fuck it matters?" Saia waves his hands in the air and grunts loudly, "We already know that Eleven is a threat because they killed Meridian. It doesn't matter if they killed three other people, we already know they're dangerous," He walks over to Hesson and brushes his side, tilting his head back to look him in the eyes, "So maybe you should fucking listen to our ally over here about another potential threat instead of whining over somebody you met five fucking days ago."
All is silent for a moment, mainly out of disbelief that Saia's gotten so angry. Ludo stands next to him and pats his head with pride. For once, he's the one taken aback by him and not the other way around, "Yeah, what Saia said."
Saia pats Ludo on the back before making his way over to Magnificence, kneeling down a bit as to get on her level, "Are you okay?" He asks, genuine concern in his voice, "I'm sorry that Hesson's such an asshole."
"Hey!" He calls but Cyra swiftly slaps him in the stomach.
"It'll be fine," Magnificence takes deep breaths and calmly starts to stand, "I just think we should be weary of the fact District Eleven isn't our sole enemy here."
"And she makes a good point," Ludo adds, helping her readjust her posture, "Can you accept that Hesson? I promise that I'm listening to you when you say you're worried about what District Eleven could do to us, but I need you to know there's nine other Tributes besides us and them, and we can and should be cautious about them too."
"They killed Meridian," Out of arguments, Hesson just repeats himself, "We need them dead."
"Like I said, I agree they're dangerous," Ludo rolls his eyes, feeling like he's talking to a toddler, "But I'm equally concerned about everybody else in this arena. If we stumble upon District Eleven, we'll deal with it then, but actively searching them out is going to end in one of us being killed."
"Or we'll just kill them since it's five against two," Hesson shudders, "It'll be easier if we have more numbers."
"You don't know that," Ludo insists, "If we go find them, we'll be on their territory, and for all I know they could have that place set up with traps or something. Let them find us."
"Thank you Ludo," Cyra nods her head, "Spoken like a true leader."
And just like that the seams tying their alliance together have gotten even looser. Just like that, Ludo's once again wondering why Hesson's there if all he's doing is picking a fight with those around him and contributing absolutely jack shit. He sighs, this would be so much easier without him. Then he looks off to see Hesson with a frown on his face yet again, just as miserable as he's always been.
Ludo makes eye contact with Cyra and then with Saia, the three of them collectively inhaling and then exhaling.
They've sure got a bit of work cut out for themselves.H
Danika Xiong. 17.
District Ten Female.
The Fortresses of Pleasure, North. 10:42.
She isn't sure if she's been playing her cards carefully lately. After walking for four hours once they were let into the new part of the arena, deciding to settle in a fortress with metal beds and chain windows, Danika was able to doze off for a bit, only to wake up next to Silvana Ildron's sleeping body.
And she's precious, which is a fact Danika's not necessarily pleased with, since well… this isn't exactly ideal, the whole "meeting your soulmate," it feels sick even calling her that, the whole "meeting your soulmate in a literal death match thing." Yet here she is, next to Silvana after an extended period of cuddles, repeatedly wondering, How the hell did I let this happen to me?
Well obviously, Danika wanted this to happen. It was her that held Silvana's hand under the table at dinner that one night, after all, but perhaps she thought it would just be that, handholding and playful banter, yet now… now Danika's well… less of a virgin then she ever thought she'd be, especially given the circumstances. And she isn't even too sure she's mad at it either. It's undeniable, the fact that her time with Silvana was nothing short of a fairytale, yet waking up to her in brick tower feels worse than waking up in a fancy apartment by her side.
"You good?" Hennessy notices the down look on her face, Danika assuming it was his turn to guard them in case of danger, even though Lobo was insistent on keeping watch despite the fact he was clearly the most exhausted out of all of them, "You seem… I don't know, not like yourself."
Lately Danika found herself appreciating Hennessy more and more. Perhaps it was the fact Lobo was all worked up over Garrick's death and how it was a slight bit concerning while Hennessy remained more collected, more understanding of the nature of the situation they're in and less well… "We're all best friends and we'll be alive forever and ever," like Lobo.
"Startled, that's all," Danika admits, letting her eyes glaze over to Silvana and her perfect button nose all scrunched up, "Yeah… that's all."
"Seems to me like you're actually just in love," Hennessy quirks his brow upwards, playfully slapping Danika's side.
"Or something," She sighs, turning her vision back to him and the little smirk on his face. It's like Hennessy knows something's up with her and she isn't exactly living her best life when well, she should be. She's in love, why can't she just accept that it's a great thing? Why can't she just embrace it. No, no, of course Danika's worried, "Okay honestly I'm terrified," She stutters quickly, her body tensing up and quivering, "This wasn't supposed to happen dude, I wasn't supposed to just go and get attached to this motorcycle girl."
She doesn't really get why she's suddenly opening up to him. Sure, Hennessy's a trustworthy guy, Danika would go as far as to call him a damn good friend, but still she's not supposed to be like this. Everybody knows Danika Xiong as well… as this stoic cool girl, and being all vulnerable and mushy would directly compromise that. And for Silvana… lord Danika sometimes wishes she had standards.
"Things happen for a reason, bun," Hennessy smiles and pats Danika's leg and there's something incredibly calming about his voice. It certainly makes Danika happier in an instant, "Life's too short, especially here for you to be getting so worked up over this. Just enjoy yourself. Not everbody's lucky enough to say they've found what you and Silvana have and so young."
"—And in a place where one of us if not both of us are going to fucking die," Danika complains, trying her best not too sound all whiney since that wouldn't be a cute look for her.
"Isn't it ironic?" He laughs, "Isn't it so fucking ironic?"
"I think I hate it here," She tilts her head to the side, again catching Silvana in her vision, "Yeah, no I definitely hate it here."
"Well I'd be pretty damn concerned if you didn't," Hennessy laughs, and it's loud enough that Silvana shakes in her sleep. It's a bit sporadic of her, and her eyes slowly open as Hennessy whispers, "Well shit."
"Were you bitches talking about me?" Is the question Silvana decides to grace them with when she first awakens, "It's rude to talk about somebody behind their back," She pulls back a strand of her hair and gently nudges Danika, "Unless of course you're talking about how wonderful they are."
She rolls her eyes and glances over at Hennessy, "Do you see what I'm talking about?"
"Not at all, you lucked out Danni," He chuckles, going over to Silvana and ruffling her hair, "How are you this fine morning… or whatever time it is?"
The skies are the same color in the arena and they all gave up on trying to tell what time it is ages ago. But it feels enough like morning that Danika accepts it.
"As good as I can be in a place designed to rip my fucking head off," Silvana laughs, wrapping her arm around Danika who instinctively grabs ahold of it, "Wait where's the other bitch?"
Danika wonders the exact same thing, her eyes finding the metal bench he'd passed out on before she did the same, "Good question… no wonder it's so quiet here."
Hennessy laughs, "Oh Lobo? He insisted on patrolling the fortress because he had some fear that something would leap out and kill us all," He's almost a bit too haphazard with his word choice, "And well I'm not stopping him."
"As you shouldn't," Danika giggles, but she's immediately cut off by a crashing of the books lined up against one of the walls, followed by Lobo himself sliding on top of them and flashing a cheesy thumbs up in the air, "Oh, speak of the devil. Hello sir."
"It's fucking ugly out there," Lobo brushes the dirt off himself, "Not that there's monsters or anything… I just like… got lost." There's a small cut on his cheek so he licks one of his fingers and rubs it against the injury, "Well actually… now that I think of it. There was this like grumbling thing… but I didn't get that close to it so we should be fine."
"You saw a grumbling thing and you didn't run away from it?" Silvana's startled and there's almost death in her eyes, "Are you fucking stupid?"
"It looked like something from my boardgame," Lobo shrugs his shoulders and grins, "It was all big and strong and like… it had pointy teeth and a horn."
"Sounds awful," Silvana says in deadpan.
"Oh it was really cool," Lobo contradicts her, "I just hope it isn't mad at me or anything."
Danika sighs… she should've known that the kid who shamelessly ate soap on the train would look at a mutt and think it's cool. Maybe he was the one she should have been hesitant to get involved with, not Silvana, "Sorry you what?" It's like she's still in disbelief that Lobo didn't immediately try to kill the thing, not that he would've been able to.
"It's not that big of a deal," He laughs, clearly not seing the issue which is that he just fucking endangered all of them without batting an eyelash, "Do you guys want to like hang out or something?"
"I'm actually pretty fucking worried about the mutt," Hennessy admits, rolling his eyes in a similar fashion to Danika. Because she's also worried damn it. How's she supposed to feel safe if her ally is somebody who wants to be friends with everybody, including a literal fucking monster? But it's not like she can kick him out of the alliance considering the fact that he's the leader… which maybe isn't the best choice now that she thinks harder.
"It's nothing to worry about," Lobo shakes his head, "I promise, I'd tell you if it was. It was a friendly monster in my game."
"Right, because I totally believe you," Silvana laughs, patting Danika's thigh as some kind of source of relief.
There's tension in the room, but luckily Hennessy's able to detect it, "Hey, I know what we can do."He stands up and pats his knees, stretching his arms and legs by swaying back and forth.
"What?" Danika inquires, standing up and grabbing Silvana's hand so she does the same. Lobo crawls out of the pile himself.
"You two," Hennessy stands behind Danika and Silvana, his arms around their shoulders, "How would you like to get married in fucking hell today?"
Bonnie Byrd. 17.
District Nine Female.
Loveless Woods, East. 11:50.
It's oddly quiet next to Sable as Bonnie stands next to her in a mystical forest of trees without branches and a sky painted a dark shade of pink, golden clouds discharging a corona on the cerulean-colored dirt ground. There's a sweet scent in the air, almost like pollen or something of the variance, and the whimsical humming of birds can be heard in the distance. It's almost like paradise, or the closest they're able to get to it in a place Bonnie's begun to liken to the hell her parents told her she'd rot in if she continued her sexual escapades. Yet Sable's quiet, she hasn't really talked to Bonnie all that much since the Games began, now that she thinks of it. Perhaps she'd been too busy thinking about other things to even bother checking in on Sable's well-being, but then again Sable said she's an introvert straight-up, so it's likely she enjoys the solitude.
And this forest is way nicer than the woodlands coated in red that they spent the previous days in, seriously, it's like a page out of a fairytale book; it seems so comfortable, euphoric even, the sort of place that's not supposed to actually exist but instead just be thought about in hopes of one day someday reaching it. So Bonnie's basking in it, twirling as the light illuminates her cheekbones and makes the amber stands of her hair glow. She's never been the stereotypical "girly-girl," yet Bonnie's still appreciative of the majestic and glamorous ambiance.
It's a well deserved break too, Bonnie could've sworn she was close to breaking something as she grabbed Sable's hand and ran out of the woods, embers flickering in the air whilst the ground underneath them seemingly disappeared until they finally stumbled down a mountain and into this area that seemed to be a fantasy. Her legs are sore still from the whole escapade, and Bonnie can feel a twinge in her stomach that is only to be associated with hunger, which I guess… makes sense since I haven't eaten in over a day. Fuck, she's near-famished, which maybe is why the whole charade she's in is literally called the Hunger Games.
"Are you also hungry?" She looks over to Sable who's picked up three lily flowers from the ground and is fiddling them between her fingers.
Still Sable's giving Bonnie the silent treatment and she doesn't get why, so she lightly taps her ally's shoulder and asks again, "Are you hungry, Sable?"
"Aren't we all," She mutters and her voice is somewhat heavy, like she's clearly frustrated, "Doesn't matter though."
She wants to ask Sable "Are you mad at me?" but that would just make her sound like a schoolgirl, so instead she's more direct, "Why're you mad at me?"
And Sable just rolls her eyes at Bonnie, "Isn't it obvious?"
"Are you actually mad at me for kissing Aux?" Bonnie hypothesizes, noting that Sable's face is red though not from nerves but rather anger, "Well… kissing and then fucking Aux," She realizes she sounds like an ass, "What I mean to say is Aux wasn't worth anything to me, Sable."
"And I am?" Sable raises her voice and drags her foot through the dirt, "You really think I think I have any worth to you."
To tell the truth, Sable's figured it out. Sure, Bonnie's enjoyed her time with Sable, at least she has an entire brain in her head unlike Auxiliary, and that's why she allied with her in the first place and not him. And if anything Sable should be thankful for her since otherwise she'd be dying a virgin and that's the only thing worse than flat-out dying. Ultimately though, it's true, Sable's just an accessory to Bonnie's enjoyment of her time in the Capitol and now the arena, and while it sucks, and while they'd maybe work out in another life, Bonnie's come to the unfortunate conclusion that Sable's completely expendable.
"Please Sable," Bonnie bats her eyelids and pouts her eyes and lips, "You're worth more than I can count. You're the only person who's made this ordeal at all enjoyable for me."
Sable smiles lightly, and Bonnie's hopeful that she believed her lie, "Thank you," She says, and then follows with, "I'm so hungry, by the way."
"I'll get something for you to eat then," Bonnie giggles, glad that Sable seems back to being the same lovestruck fool she once was, "Kill some birds or something… you stay here."
Sable nods and Bonnie walks west, the beauty of the forest only becoming more and more noticeable as she goes on and the pink skies fade to purple and that scent of pollen gets stronger and stronger and all the colors get more and more intense, more vibrant, the floor going neon and the trees beginning to glitter and oh it just smells so sweet. And she hears a voice calling out to her, a husky yet feminine call of, "Hello my darling."
Naturally, Bonnie turns to hear where the voice is coming wrong, twisting her hips until a tall woman with long black hair, olive green eyes, and tan skin becomes visible. She's in a long black dress clung tight to her body that shimmers like the trees and her lips are plump and coated in a maroon rogue and suddenly Bonnie feels the same way she's sure everybody else feels when they see her.
"Hello," The air's candied scent increases and Bonnie's eyes light up, the mysterious lady gazing deep into her soul, "What are you… doing here?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to dear," The girl winks and Bonnie's cheeks turn the color of her hair, "How're you doing today?"
Bonnie stammers… "Better now that you're here." It's like she can't control the words that flee her lips, "What's your name, if I can ask?"
She raises her arm to throw part of her hair behind her shoulder, her breasts bouncing as a result and Bonnie finds it hard not to stare, "The Countess of Lus ––Love," and Bonnie's unable to recall what she's supposed to be doing, "But if that's too much of a mouthful you can just call me Tess."
"I'm B-Bonnie," She finds herself forced to curtsy at Tess and lord it just smells so sweet, "S-sorry I can't stop looking at you…" She knows she sounds pathetic but Bonnie can't stop herself, "You're the most beautiful thing I've… ever seen. That's all."
"I get that a lot," Bonnie feels a cool touch on her left wrist and looks down to see Tess' hand wrapped around it, and she can't control her feet as they walk with her, "But you look fine yourself."
And it smells like honey and the sky's back to pink as Tess pins Bonnie to a tree and whispers in her ear, "I'm going to make you feel so beautiful."
Her head's still in the clouds and all Bonnie can think is… Tess… Tess… Tess… and the girl's touching her, she's sliding her hand down Bonnie's pants and her skin's tingling and she looks up and Tess' lips are so close to hers so she closes her eyes and then… and then Bonnie feels the Countess' soft lips pressed against her and it's intensifying and Bonnie sees the stars and the planets and she just is praying that she's made somebody feel this way before because… lord does it feel like she's entering a foreign place that she never wants to leave.
"You're so beautiful," Tess repeats herself and then Bonnie feels a sharp pain in her side and she opens her eyes and sees a small knife inserted into her thigh, "So, so, beautiful, and all for me."
And the knife wedges itself deeper yet Bonnie still feels pleasure, fuck, it hurts so hard yet so beautifully and Bonnie's at a loss for words. She doesn't know what's happening to her, yet she thinks she likes it. The Countess pulls the knife out of Bonnie's thigh and drags it down the fabric of her pants, cutting the material until her leg is exposed and then… Bonnie hears a crack, and she looks down at her leg and Tess' fingers are around her ankle and there's blood dripping down from her thigh and onto the ground. Yet Bonnie likes, it, fuck she isn't sure if there's love in the air or something because Bonnie wants more of it, she wants more of this mystery countess.
"You like this, don't you," Tess twirls the knife in between her fingertips, licking the tip to taste Bonnie's blood, laughing and saying, "You taste so delicious, my honey."
Tess works her hands to the zipper at the top of Bonnie's vest, tugging until she's able to press the flaps of material away so she can only see the padding and the mesh top Bonnie's wearing and just… the wind's cooling her flesh and even if it's beginning to smell less sweet in the air.
And Bonnie feels the knife dig into her navel yet she's unable to say anything, all she can do is look at Tess and see her smirk, and she has no idea what's even happening to her until she sees somebody else out of the corner of her eye and it stops smelling sweet all of the sudden.
"Get off me," Bonnie shouts and she tries to kick Tess but one of her ankles bruised and puffy and the other's under her foot. And shit… it doesn't feel good anymore, it feels like… oh fuck is she dying?
Her stomach muscles tighten as crimson clots and stains her skin, and… fuck, the knife's pressed up against Bonnie's neck now and the trees are turning dead and the sky's turning grey and she's closing her eyes and counting down in her head, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, make it stop, 5, 4, 3, please make it stop, 2, 1, yet her eyelids flick open and fuck, she's still alive and the metal's sending shivers down her spine, and that's when she recognizes the person she saw so she calls her name.
She calls, "Sable, help," and her ally, her lover and her friend races towards her, looks her up and down, and Bonnie tries to repeat herself but fuck, now the knife's piercing through her lower lip and she can taste her own blood as it tears through her flesh down the crease of her chin and the skin hanging by her jaw is paper to the blade as Tess pulls away at the skin and gums and Bonnie's gagging, her spit mixed with blood, and again she tries to call for Sable.
Tess turns around and sees the girl and Bonnie wants to scream "run" because she doesn't want them both to die, fuck, but she can't say anything. And blood's clotting inside her mouth and she's trying not to choke when Tess looks at Sable and just smiles, "I heard this one gave you trouble."
And Bonnie's got tears in her eyes because dammit she didn't do anything wrong she was just having fun for fucks sake… fuck, and then the Countess hands Sable the knife and says, "Make the right decision."
Sable blinks several times, admiring the blade already stained by Bonnie who's whimpering and batting her eyes and doing anything to prevent herself from dying… but Sable's coming close to her and Bonnie's brain is going black as Sable hovers the knife over her throat, and she's praying… Sable please don't kill me, Sable please, and she's thinking back to their memories thinking where did I go wrong? I don't deserve to die like this… and she closes and opens her eyes rapid fire yet Sables still there and her lips move before Bonnie can even register the fact they're saying "Fuck you," before she falls.
Watch You Lose by The Veer Union
16th Place: Bonnie Byrd, District Nine - Killed by Sable Hayashi and the Countess of Lust