Rafe McClellan, 18, D2M:
After the events that took place late last night, each Career, including me, has been arguing nonstop with the others. Long story short, an unknown tribute somehow got past Eliza and stole a bunch of our supplies, including all of our water and most of our food. The identity of the tribute is being heavily debated, but we know a few things. The first is that the tribute was wearing a warm hat, the exact same kind as Eliza, and thin strands of dark hair were poking out from underneath it. The second is that they had pale skin. The third is that they were rather short.
Fortunately, I have a pretty good memory. There haven't been any cannons today, so excluding the tributes that we know are dead, I can determine the possible culprits. Excluding me and my allies, ten living tributes have hair that's dark brown or black: the boy from Three, Lyra-Rose's district partner Ardledge, the boy from Six, the pairs from Seven and Eleven, the girls from Eight and Ten, and the boy from Twelve. However, moving on to the pale skin, I can safely eliminate Ardledge and the Eleven boy. The last element, height, rules out half of the others, and we're down to only four possible suspects. Based on this logic, it could only be Elle, the girl from Eight, Emily, the girl from Ten, Soya, the girl from Eleven, or Chip, the boy from Twelve.
My allies have accepted this to be true, but the conversation only devolved from there. There's a general agreement that it's unlikely to be Chip, but the rest are split about which of the three girls it was. Since Elle was showing off some gymnastics tricks at the Bloodbath to grab supplies without the danger of me catching her, I think she's probably the one responsible. Livi supposed that since Ardledge and the boy from Eleven are very protective of Chip and Emily, they wouldn't have allowed them to do something dangerous like raiding our camp, but Lyra-Rose is under the impression that Ardledge is an evil traitor who would "sacrifice a newborn baby for a quick buck" and probably bullied his allies into carrying out the evil plan he's masterminded.
Livi evidently has a good deal more sense than Lyra-Rose and said that rather than sitting around speculating, we could just see if the thief had left any footprints behind that we could use to find them. As it turns out, there's a deep set of tracks in a straight line away from us, cutting through the forest. We haven't had much reason to go near the grimy-looking pond so far, but since we had no water left, we gathered some and used our purification capsules to make sure it's safe. We also shared out the nutrition bars, since we plan on catching up to the thief by nightfall, when we'll kill them and, more importantly, reclaim our supplies.
Following the trail is surprisingly easy. The prints are deep and distinctive since the person was running away from us. It seems like we didn't injure them too badly. The only exciting thing to happen is when Lyra receives a flashlight from a sponsor. Eventually, the trees begin to thin, and the ground starts sloping downwards. The snow gradually disappears, and green blades of grass prick up through it in some places. The footprints have come to an end. Our target could have gone in any direction except for directly behind us and we have no clues as to where they went.
We walk for a while, and mounds appear in the distance. As we grow nearer, we can see that the mounds are actually sleeping animals of some kind. When we're close to them, it's easy to see that they're giant bulls, at least as big as my house in District Two, and there are at least fifty of them slumbering peacefully. Sure, the giant bulls are a little disconcerting, but the thing that really frightens me is the equally oversized cougar.
Livieoula "Livi" Carnelian, 18, D1F:
"Be very still and quiet, and back away slowly," Rafe whispers. "Whatever you do, no sudden movements." I have no idea what he's seen that I haven't, but I follow his example, as do Oscar and Eliza. Lyra-Rose, however, frowns.
"You can't tell me what to do."
"C'mon, Lyra," Rafe urges as softly as he can. "This is one time you really want to listen to me."
"Why shouldn't I make as much of a fuss as possible?" she asks, almost proudly.
"Because of the mutt over there." I follow his gaze, and nestled in a patch of tall grass, a wildcat slides into a hunting crouch, two kittens behind her. As I watch, the mother cat pounces forward, claws landing on the back of a sleeping bull. At the noise, Lyra swivels her head to look and shrieks loudly. The bull is already dead and the cat is just digging in for her breakfast, but Lyra's scream startles her so much that she seems taken aback. Her eyes lock directly on us.
"Should we run?" Eliza asks. She's almost trembling, and it's the most worried I've ever seen her.
"No," Oscar decides, "It might think we're prey and try to chase us." The cougar prowls towards us and I can almost admire how majestic she is. Lithe, strong body, jaw gaping open in a fierce show of intimidation, staring us down. If she were to stand up on her hind legs, she'd be ten feet tall. Her snarl shatters the silence, and she shoots toward us like a rocket. Without thinking, we scatter, leaving behind the bulk of our remaining survival items and weapons. Rafe and Lyra bolt to one side, Eliza, Oscar, and I to the other. We stumble into a circle of fat trees alongside a babbling creek. Eliza swings up onto one, and Oscar and I go for the center of a fallen log that's uncomfortably small and hopefully too long for the cat's paws to reach us inside.
Through a knothole, we watch the cat. She's apparently gone for the three of us, and I see her rise up to swipe at the tree. It's very high and sturdy, though, and she drops back to the ground. Oscar and I cling to each other as her paw grapples for purchase. I can see the long, razor-sharp claws flexing in and out. Thinking quickly, I try to use my spear to stab it, but one of the claws catches it just in the wrong place. My spear is now useless, the tip severed off, and I'm forced to brace myself against the sides of the log as it begins to move. It rolls and I can tell the cougar is batting at our log, trying to dislodge us and shake us out. Oscar almost tumbles out, but I snag his hand at the last minute.
The cougar quickly gets bored and heads in the other direction, where I catch a glimpse of two figures in mint-green uniforms attempting to navigate a large patch of shrubbery. Oscar shoves me out of the log, and we try to run away while the cougar is distracted. She turns and bolts after us, so we head for Eliza's tree. Oscar trips on a protruding root and falls, and the cougar is so close I can feel her rank breath. Oscar rights himself almost instantly, but it's not speedy enough. The cougar doesn't kill him, but two sets of claws rake across his back. Eliza performs a split-second rescue, swinging us up into the safety of the branches. While the cougar is distracted, Rafe and Lyra make it inside the log.
Thinking that she can access them more easily, she springs at it. Her attempts to jostle them loose appear unsuccessful, but this cat is smart. She tries a new strategy, throwing her entire body weight on top of the log, and it works on the first try. The log smashes into pieces, shrapnel flying everywhere, and Lyra and Rafe try to scramble away. Rafe grabs a chunk to use as a shield, but Lyra tries to flee. There's a sudden ripple of muscles, a tremendous lunge, and Lyra's in the cougar's mouth. A crunching of bones, a gnashing of teeth, and her corpse drops to the ground, where the cougar feasts on her for a few minutes before licking her chops and sauntering off to whence she came. A cannon echoes across the arena.
Once we're quite certain that she's gone, we drop to the ground and spread out to collect our fallen supplies. I look to the sky to see if a hovercraft has come to retrieve Lyra yet. There isn't, but what I do see is a silver parachute floating down. I follow it as it falls somewhere out of my line of view, find a fresh spear that I find discarded on the ground, and head after it. I find Oscar, messing around with something in his backpack. "Oscar," I ask crisply, "What did you just get?" He looks at me sheepishly, like he's trying to hide something.
"Nothing."
"Bullshit." I yank away his bandolier of throwing knives, and then his pack. He's taken too much of a beating to really stop me, but his fingers still close around my wrist.
"Please, Livi, don't look. I'll do anything, anything at all, if you just give me back my things, please, I–" Ignoring his begging, I unwrap the silver package and read the label silently to myself. Oscar shrinks away, either in shame or in fear.
"Would you care to explain to me," I begin, working hard to keep the tone of my voice steady, "Would you care to explain to me why you have a vial in here marked 'Poison for Livi?'"
Zea Poales, 18, D9F:
Pola figured out a genius way to get us water. She had an epiphany last night in the middle of the storm and emptied out a backpack, staking a pole through its straps and unzipping it. She had realized that it was waterproof and that it would be an excellent way to collect some rain. After a few purification capsules, it's safe to drink. Every few hours, I'm reminded exactly how strong she is. It just goes to show that training scores aren't everything.
My score was twice as high as hers, and yet I'm not the one coming up with great ideas left and right. Pola's mind is her greatest strength, and it's the reason we're in such a comfortable position at the moment. Our alliance is sitting pretty at the moment. We have tons of water and food. We have a shelter that can protect us from any kind of extreme weather that we might face. And since one of our new sponsor packs ended up containing some more wire, Pola raided our safety boxes and explained that she was going to rig up our weapons to electrocute people.
While she works on that, Soren complains. Complaining seems to be the only thing that he's actually good at. He just sort of whines petulantly for a while and follows Pola around. When she shooes him away, he gets this really sad look on his face and goes off to feel sorry for himself, but a few minutes later, he's right beside her again. When she asks him what he wants, if she can do anything for him, he says stuff that's either outlandish or just plain cruel. Like "I want a giant pet bird that can break me out of this damn arena and take me back to District Three," or "I want a squad of Peacekeepers to beat the crap out of you and pitch you over the edge of a cliff."
Being neutral didn't work. Ignoring him didn't work. Being kind, supportive, and comforting didn't work. Pola and I have settled for the approach where we tell him that if he actually needs something, we'll be happy to get it for him, but if he doesn't have anything nice to say, he should either stay out of our way or try to make himself useful. I suggested that maybe he could read the field guide he was sponsored, and he chucked it at my head. Now that I'm thumbing through it, he wants it back. I give it to him, and he throws it at me again.
In short, Pola and I have saddled ourselves with someone who is in essence a toddler. He has the physical toughness of a bunny rabbit, the emotional maturity of a fruit fly on hard drugs, and the intellectual capacity of a wedge of cheese. Well, actually, that's an overstatement. A wedge of cheese is capable of becoming cultured.
Other than hearing some fresh and exciting insults from Soren, who is somehow still finding new configurations of swear words and trying them out, despite Pola's constant, clipped responses of "Good for you," and "Wow, that's crazy," nothing much happens. I learn a bit about mutts from the field guide. The first page displays an enormous bull in a field of other bulls, the second a disproportionately large panther. Next to the panther, there are two cubs that, despite being babies, are bigger than I am.
I pore over the many pages, but a rumble reminiscent of last night's thunder arises, and all of a sudden, I see a few dozen creatures bearing down on our camp. Muscle-bound and huge, it doesn't take a genius like Pola to see that they're the bulls in the manual. Behind them are the two cubs. Because I read the guide, I know what we're supposed to do. I instruct Pola and Soren to lie down and stay still.
Soren's too caught off guard to bother with being bratty, so he obediently drops down on the grass after Pola and me. I'm doubtful that I'll actually be safe, but the bulls run around me, apparently averse to the idea of trampling people. The cats pursue them. Apparently, their instinct to chase whatever is running can overcome their taste for humans. The herd and its pursuers tear through the camp, and with them, some of the supplies are damaged. The backpack of food is totally flattened, but hey, it's still fine to eat. The now-sealed backpack of water was knocked over but didn't burst, so that's something. The bulls' hooves have shredded one of our tarps, and the foam rolls that we've discovered work like mattresses are collapsed into paper-thin sheets of uselessness.
The biggest casualty of all is the one that shocks me the most. Fear blooms within me when I notice that Pola is having trouble getting up. She's the most valuable person in the alliance, she can't get injured, but mutts don't care about the concerns of humans. Her right arm, her dominant arm, the one with the hand that constructed our shelter and set up the backpack in just the right spot to collect water and helped to enhance our weapons isn't moving. She tries to flex her fingers but can't. When she tries to bend her elbow, it refuses to cooperate. Soren's looking at me with a scared expression, and for the first time ever, we agree on something.
If Pola can recover quickly, if she's given medicine, he and I can pull through on our own for a couple of days, but if she goes too long without treatment and her arm is fully out of commission, we're both screwed. Pola's talking, giving instructions, but I tune it out. I've always been a coward at heart. When things go to shit, I run away and leave the problems for other people to fix because I hate caring for people in their hour of need. Here, I can't do that. Here, I have to take action of some kind, and it makes me deeply uncomfortable to bear that responsibility. The harsh truth is that Pola is the backbone of this alliance, and without her, all three of us are as good as dead.
That's when I realize that even though I pride myself on being manipulative, I didn't catch on to Pola's scheme until it was already too late. We're her insurance policy. She knows that if we need her to keep us alive, we'll have no choice but to protect her. Even in paralysis, she's got me right where she wants me–unable to function on my own. Even in paralysis, she's as deadened to the suffering of others as she always was, and this time I'm under her equally numb little thumb.
Ellie "Elle" Callas, 15, D8F:
Maybe we're doing very well in the eyes of the Capitol. Perhaps we're a horrible disappointment. All I know is that Jenna and I are exhausted. A sleepless night spent being tossed around by a thunderstorm and forced to chase after the supplies that kept blowing away has made us short-tempered and irritable. We split a packet of trail mix for a midmorning meal. There's no telling what lies ahead, but I'm under the impression that it can't be worse than what we've already faced. Jenna is taking a more conservative route and is arguing that since we're familiar with this part of the arena, it's safer to stick to what we know.
The alliance has been much more difficult to maintain without Radley. He functioned as a voice of reason and could usually introduce a compromise that both Jenna and I would reluctantly agree to. It worked okay until he decided to run off on his own during the Bloodbath. Jenna, who seems to have lost all semblance of a brain, has chosen to assume that he probably got lost or injured or the Careers chased him in a different direction. I, on the other hand, am furious. There's absolutely no excuse for ditching an alliance just as the Games begin.
It goes without saying that if he comes crawling back to us, I don't care what Jenna thinks. I'll kill him myself. I'll honestly be disappointed if he's the tribute that died today. What's more, he has this stupid obsession with his family, and whenever we were discussing what we missed about home, it was always Auntie Tamsin this, Dara and Rodney that, wah wah wah I want my mommy and daddy to know that I love them. I don't have anything against my family, it's just that I have bigger things than them to worry about.
Neither Jenna nor I has received a sponsor gift. We agreed that maybe the reason was that we haven't killed anybody yet. I thought that was an excellent argument for hunting down Radley, but Jenna (loudmouthed, disagreeable Jenna who has no concept of loyalty, trust, or justice) had said no. Instead, she argued that the best course of action would be testing out our supplies. The thing that really caught her attention was the jar of translucent yellow lozenges. They look just like the things that my mother used to give me when I had a sore throat, and I can't imagine that they'll be any help, but Jenna just doesn't listen to reason.
She takes one, and she instantly says that she feels better. I see her visibly perk up and look more alert, but it seems very suspicious. They might be medicine, but they're not magic. They don't work as soon as they touch your tongue. It's too much like a trick, but Jenna just says "Suit yourself!" and shrugs, as though the lozenges are the tastiest, healthiest, best things in the world and she wants me to take one very badly. I rebuff her and accuse her of lying, but she just laughs. "Come on, Elle. Why be so obstinate? They'll help you a lot."
This only confirms that I should stay away from the lozenges. Her sudden change in mood is too odd to be genuine, and it makes me think that maybe they're a hallucinogenic drug or something. Jenna could never be this relaxed without a mind-altering substance. It occurs to me that without her full mental faculties, she can't control me or start a debate. I have free reign to do whatever I like since in a few minutes the lozenges will have her so blissed out that she won't be paying any attention to my movements at all.
While she's busy acting like the fool the Capitolites will hopefully now recognize that she really is, I grab a pack of supplies. I have an errand to attend to before she regains her decision-making skills. Right now, my one and only mission is to kill Radley in the next hour or so, and rest assured, I will not fail.
Damon Archer, 14, D7M:
My first day in the arena was somewhat uneventful. I escaped the Bloodbath unscathed and with a pack of supplies. I've been traveling almost nonstop during daylight hours. My goal is to find out if this vast expanse of snow will ever end. My water bottle, which initially contained half a gallon of the life-sustaining fluid, is now bone dry. My progress was halted for much of last night because of the storm. I had received a sponsor gift of some kind of umbrella that protected me from the elements, but it was still almost impossible to go anywhere.
This morning I had a treat waiting for me. My mentor, Rémi, had sent me four more sponsor packages. The first was a compass, the second was a tube of sunblock. The third was a tin containing water purification capsules, which would be very useful if there was any accessible water that I needed to use them for. The fourth, however, gave me hope. It was a scuba mask designed to keep someone breathing while fully submerged in a lake or pool, and its presence means that there must be water nearby, and a lot of it.
Rémi's a smart lady. She wouldn't send me anything unless she knew it would come in handy. Still, I have not found any places where scuba masks would be useful. I keep walking, and the trees and snow seem to drag on forever. All is not lost, though, because I have an axe. I tried chopping some branches into sticks for a fire, but they were too damp to do much with. As of right now, my general strategy is trying to get the lay of the land and make some headway in finding a new area to set up camp in.
Snow isn't safe. It can be very deep and swallow you unexpectedly or pile up and create an avalanche and you'll be smothered. I can't melt it for water because it's dampened the wood to the point where it refuses to produce smoke, let alone a flame. I have a few days' worth of food, so I'm fine on that front. My main concern is obvious–dehydration is already beginning to set in. I usually have at least a gallon of water per day, and my water is already gone so early on.
My pace has decreased. I feel a tad lightheaded. If I don't find water soon, things will not go well for me. If Rémi can afford to get me a scuba mask, surely she can send me some water? Perhaps she doesn't recognize how bad my symptoms are. But no, that can't be it, she was a Career. She trained for years to enter the Hunger Games, and she won, and after that, she brought home a Victor. The clue must lie in the things that she's already given me.
Scuba masks can only be used in water, so there has to be water close to me. I keep moving forward, for thirty minutes, an hour, two, and all of a sudden, I'm knee-deep in brown sludge. It looks like mud, but it doesn't feel like mud, at least not any mud I've ever encountered. My legs begin to sink slowly, and I try to pull them out, but I can't. The substance isn't really sucking me downwards, but it's doing a great job of inhibiting my movement. Fortunately, a spindly tree is nearby, and I grab onto it. Struggling out of the muck takes a lot more effort than it should. My first thought upon breaking free is snapping a big branch free and stirring up the swamp. Instantly the silt disperses and sinks to the bottom and brownish water rises to the top.
I scoop some into my water bottle and add a capsule to eliminate any toxins. I take a cautious sip. Instantly I'm on the ground, retching. I immediately realize what went wrong. I forgot to wait for the capsule to work. This water is not yet clean, and I'm about to have a very unpleasant afternoon.
The prickly reeds hurt my hands and I'm already exhausted. Throwing up is just worsening the symptoms of my lack of water. My energy has been totally sapped. All I can hope for is that the bad water doesn't kill me. However, with all of the noise that I'm making, it's becoming increasingly clear that another tribute could, and easily. I try to reach for my axe so that I can defend myself if somebody discovers me, but it's too heavy for me to pick up. I make a feeble attempt to drag it towards me by the handle, but I find I can't, and it dawns on me that at this moment, my training score doesn't matter, and neither do all the fancy sponsor gifts that Rémi got me.
I could die right here, on the banks of an apparently very toxic wetland, and I'm totally helpless. If a tribute came along ten minutes ago, I would have chopped them down in an instant. If one passes by now, the best I can do is hope they grace me with a quicker, more merciful kill than the painful, slow death by vomiting that I currently face.
Griffin Jagger, 17, D11M:
The four of us are all together now, and things seem to have been going fine for the better part of the day. The hot meal that Emily was given is long gone. We devoured it yesterday during dinner, and the blandness of the cheese we're eating is lessened when we pretend it's instead the melty goodness of last night's gooey lasagna. Emily has more or less taken charge of the efforts to strengthen and defend the camp. Her new chainsaw is excellent for chopping and shaping wood.
We dug holes with a shovel that came in the pack of supplies she was sponsored, then sharpened sticks into rudimentary spears and placed them in the pits, pointing upwards. We covered the tops with fake foliage. We make sure to carefully memorize the places they're in, because we don't want to, you know, accidentally impale ourselves, but overall the plan is working well. We're creating a fortress that can withstand whatever tributes seek us out and whatever mutts the Gamemakers send after us.
The whole alliance has experienced a massive confidence boost. Being protected from the snow and last night's storm has certainly given us an edge over other tributes, who might be cold and sleep-deprived. Our surplus of weapons and medical supplies puts us in a favorable position, and we've only increased our advantage by constructing the new traps. A cannon went off a while ago, and I think we're all in agreement that it's a good thing.
I've never enjoyed seeing people starve, or experience violence, or get killed. District Eleven is inhospitable. Only the strong survive there, but whereas the experience caused some people, such as Soya, to become self-contained and bitter, it caused me to care about my family all the more. I couldn't fathom how someone could ever take pleasure in the death of another, even if it happened to lead to benefits down the road. Tough though it sometimes was, it's a far cry from the arena.
At first I was saddened to hear the cannons, but now I'm just relieved. Another tribute is gone. Seven dead so far. That means that there are seventeen of us remaining. Out of the eighteen that survived the Bloodbath, four are me and my allies. Five are Careers. The pair from Three and Zea from Nine add another three. Jenna, Elle, and Radley were all together as well. That leaves, what, three outliers? At least one of these people is now dead, and because I'm in a tent with them, I know it's not anybody in my group.
Four of us, and now only thirteen others. There are still so many ways that we could die, but we're a lot more secure than we were yesterday at this time. Best of all, Chip's wrist is healing. The first aid kit was a great help, but the medicine is fixing the injury remarkably fast. If you watch long enough, you can actually see the flesh knitting back together. Quite a lot of the carnage has disappeared, but Ardledge can still barely stomach looking at it. I don't blame him. It's fascinating, sure, but it's also kind of weird and gross, especially for a person with an aversion to blood.
Nothing very interesting is going on. I'm serving as a guard, and my allies are napping. There's total silence. I'm just about to doze off myself when a tremendous clatter suddenly arises. My tripwire alarm has worked, and there's a great deal of additional noise as my allies are startled awake. Whoever the figure is, they're moving fast, and we know they knock into the barbed wire because of the trails of blood that are left behind. The blurry thing (Person? Creature?) is strong enough to make the tent buckle when they sideswipe it. Then there's a freakish, garbled noise, and the ground under them caves in, sending them into the spear-lined trap.
Kill Tracker:
Livi Carnelian: II
Oscar Poudret: I
Eliza Maddox: I
Rafe McClellan: I
Lyra-Rose Ripley (DECEASED): I
Alliance Tracker:
Career Pack: Oscar, Livi, Rafe, Eliza
Protective Older Brothers: Ardledge, Emily, Griffin, Chip
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Soren, Pola, Zea
Lumberjack and Gymnast: Jenna, Elle
Loners: Quinten, Damon, Radley, Soya
Supplies Tracker:
Career Pack: Blanket (x2), Climbing Gear (x2), First-Aid Kit (x2), Foam Roll (x3), Rope, Sleeping Bag (x3), Soup (x3), Sunscreen, Tarp (x3), Poison, Warm Earmuffs, Warm Gloves (x2), Warm Hat, Warm Scarf, Water (x3)
Protective Older Brothers: Antiseptic Wipes, Apples, Bread, Climbing Gear, Crackers, Cured Meat, Field Guide, Firestarter, First Aid Kit, Fishing Supplies, Flashlight, Hunting Items, Map of the Arena, Medium Pack with Supplies, Net, Note of Advice, Nutrient Bars, Piece of Body Armor, Rope (x2), Severe Infection Medicine, Severe Injury Medicine, Shield, Sleeping Bag, Soap, Soup, Special Bonus 2, Stiff spring, Utility Knife, Warm Gloves, Water Bottle (x3), Water Purification Capsules, Waterproof and Temperature Insulated Tent
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Apples, Binoculars, Blanket, Bread, Collapsible Lightweight Ladder, Compass, Dried Fruit, Field Guide, Firestarter (x3), Foam Roll, Map of the Arena, Medium Pack with Supplies (x3), Multitool, Net (x3), Night Vision Goggles (x3), Note of Advice, Powder and Puff, Rope, Safety Box (x3), Scuba Mask (x3), Sleeping Bag (x2), Small Water (x3), Special Bonus 3, Special Bonus 4, Spool of Wire, Sunblock (x3), Tarp (x3), Trap Materials, Turbo Umbrella, Unknown Machine-Looking Thing, Utility Knife, Walkie-Talkies, Warm Gloves, Water
Lumberjack and Gymnast: Bread, Crackers, Dry Wheat, Field Guide, Jar of Lozenges, Mesh Sheet, Resin, Tarp, Trail Mix, Warm Scarf, Water, Water Bottle, Water Purification Capsules, Spool of Wire
Quinten: Camouflage Set, Collapsible Shovel, First-Aid Kit, Insect Repellant, Map of the Arena, Medium Pack of Supplies, Night Vision Goggles, Special Bonus 1, Special Bonus 5, Sunblock, Warm Hat, Water Bottle, Water Purification Capsules
Damon: Antiseptic Wipes, Cheese, Compass, Crackers, Grappling Hook, Multitool, Nutrient Bars, Scuba Mask, Sunblock, Turbo Umbrella, Warm Gloves, Water Bottle, Water Purification Capsules
Radley: Blanket, Cured Meat, Beans, First Aid Kit, Multitool, Tarp, Trap Materials, Water
Soya: Apples, Bread (x2), Cheese, Crackers (x2), Cured Meat, Dried Fruit, Flashlight, Iodine, Soup, Warm Hat, Water (x3), Water Bottle
Weapons Tracker:
Career Pack: Bandolier of Shurikens, Bandolier of Throwing Knives (x2), Bow and Quiver of Arrows (x2), Dagger (x3), Spear (x4), Switchblade, Unknown Bat-Looking Thing
Protective Older Brothers: Dagger, Tanto, Warhammer, Chainsaw
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Bandolier of Throwing Darts, Hidden Knife Gauntlet (x2)
Lumberjack, Gymnast, and Farmer: Axe, Shortsword, Unknown Scissors-Looking Thing
Quinten: Spear
Damon: Axe
Radley: Sickle
Soya: Bullwhip, Machete
Placement Tracker:
18th Place: Lyra-Rose Ripley, 16, D4F, fatally gored by cougar mutt
Eulogies:
Lyra-Rose: Lyra was a classic antagonist, and I loved every moment of writing her. A prissy, petty drama queen that both divided and united the Careers, her presence allowed the alliance to become tighter-knit. However, I couldn't really give her an arc, and she often made reckless decisions, which is what ultimately led to her death.
Hey y'all!
This update is late, but the one I have scheduled for tomorrow should come out on time. What are your thoughts on Lyra's death, and more specifically, that cougar mutt? Do you think she'll appear again? I'm interested in what you have to say about that. I know I left you with a cliffhanger or two, which is lowkey not okay, but do not fear. All will be revealed tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll be awarding ten bonus points if you leave a review predicting what'll happen with Oscar and Livi regarding the poison, and an additional ten if it's correct. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm super excited for the next!
–LC :)