Day Four, 6:44 AM
Location: Southern Bridge
Jasper sighed as he paced around the deck. It was early, the sun just peeking over the horizon, and he wished he could've slept some more. But Jasper still found himself waking around this hour as an old habit from work. At least it gave him more time to think.
He came to a stop, leaning against the railing. The sun gleamed off the water of the river, gold and red. It was beautiful- Jasper had hardly ever seen something like it.
"It's nice, huh?" Mor asked, appearing at his side out of nowhere. Jasper jumped, nearly toppling to the deck, but Mor caught him by the arm and steadied him.
"Yeah," Jasper nodded. "I've never seen a sunrise so… bright."
"Well, it's probably because it's artificial, right? Made up by the head honchos?" Mor mused. "Anyways, have we stopped yet?"
"No," Jasper shook his head. "But, good thing is once we do stop, we can just get off and leave."
"Sounds like a good plan," Mor agreed.
Jasper took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of dew and water. He wanted to stay with Mor; Jasper hadn't realized how lonely it was in the Arena until he found somebody, and now he was on the verge of losing that connection.
Jasper McCoy didn't want to be alone any longer.
But at the same time, Jasper didn't want to appear desperate, didn't want Mor to feel like he was dead weight or using her for his own gain. He could prove his helpfulness- Jasper knew he could if he just had a chance.
"What do we do once we get off this thing?" Jasper blurted out. "I mean… Maybe we should stick together? If you want to, that is. I can understand if you don't want to, but I think we could work well as a team."
Mor paused for a moment, blinking at him as she thought. She was hard to read, Mor made that much apparent, but Jasper saw something flicker in her face as she spoke.
"I don't see why not. You don't seem too keen on leaving me the fuck alone," Mor said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "But, I think if you're gonna be sticking with me, you should at least learn how to defend yourself."
"What?"
"Yeah," Mor nodded. "I mean it's a good skill to have."
"I- I can defend myself," Jasper stuttered.
"Okay then," Mor said, turning to him. "Hit me."
"Huh?" Jasper asked. "What do you mean?"
"Try and hit me," Mor repeated, holding her palms towards him. Jasper blinked, but he did as she said, pulling a fist back and swinging at one of her hands. In the blink of an eye, she knocked his hand away, sending him nearly off balance.
"Again," Mor said, and so Jasper tried again, failing just the same as Mor easily knocked his strike away.
"It feels like you know what I'm gonna do before I do it," Jasper commented.
"It's because I do," Mor replied. "You telegraph everything you're going to do about eight hours before you do it."
"Oh," Jasper blinked. "Then how do I fix that?"
"Well," Mor said, moving to stand next to him. "Pull your hands up further, and plant your feet about as wide as your shoulders so it's harder to knock you off balance. And bend your knees a little too."
Jasper did as she said, planting his feet and pulling his hands closer into himself. "I think I feel more… solid now," he remarked, blinking at her.
"Well that's good, because if you aren't solid something like this might happen," Mor she hooked a leg around the back of Jasper's knee, pulling his leg out from under him. Jasper went down hard, but before he could hit the deck, Mor grabbed him by the shoulders.
"What the hell…" Jasper groaned. "Warn me next time?"
"You won't get any warning in a real fight," Mor commented as she hauled him back onto his feet.
"Well that's true but still, this isn't a fight," Jasper said, rubbing his shoulders. Her grip was strong- far stronger than he'd anticipated, considering her size. She didn't look like much, but Jasper knew better than to underestimate her, especially considering what she'd done to the Two girl.
"That's where you're wrong, Jasper," Mor laughed bitterly. "This is the Arena. We've been fighting in here for our lives for four days. What, six, seven people have died already?"
"Eight," Jasper said. "It's eight people dead."
"Exactly!" Mor exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Eight people are already dead, and fifteen more people are still going to die!"
"Yeah," Jasper nodded. She was right. This wasn't the kind of fight that stopped as soon as you were on your own. It was the kind of fight that didn't stop until they were all dead and one remained.
Only one remained.
Sure it'd occurred to him that eventually there'd have to be one single Victor, but it hadn't really dawned on him until that moment.
It was growing ever more likely Jasper would never see the outside of the Arena.
Shuddering, Jasper shook himself out- he wanted to be thinking about anything but his inevitable death. So he turned back to Mor, "So where did you learn how to fight like that? You're from Seven, right? They aren't Careers, unless something's changed in the past few years."
"Hm," Mor hummed. "Well that's a long story."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Mor nodded. "Why are you so pale?"
Jasper turned his hands over, looking at the now bright red backs of his hands. He thought he'd gotten slightly less pale, the sun even burning his skin where his jacket didn't protect him. "Well, that's a slightly less long story," Jasper laughed. "I worked in the mines before I came here."
"Really?" Mor said, with the raise of an eyebrow. "You're not eighteen though."
"No, sixteen," Jasper said, shaking his head. "There was a surplus of… well, orphans, after a big incident in the mines. They'd pulled a bunch of Peacekeepers out of Twelve, and it resulted in resistance fighters causing an incident in the mines. Hundreds died, and left nobody to work in their placed."
"Oh," Mor sighed. "So they pulled… orphans?"
"They sure did," Jasper nodded, casting his eyes down towards the ground. It didn't hurt any less now than it did years ago when he'd gotten pulled down into the mines. Jasper had been convinced he'd never live to see another day.
And yet here he was, though Jasper wasn't quite sure being here was living.
"That sucks. What were your parents like?" Mor said, sitting on the deck. Jasper sank down to sit across from her, both of them pushing their backs up against the railing around the edge of the deck.
"I don't remember a ton," Jasper said softly. "I mean, they weren't killed in the mines. They died trying to escape the District." All they'd ever wanted was to escape the District, to go somewhere better. They'd always told Jasper that it was all for him, that they just wanted their son to grow up free of the horrors of the world.
They'd paid with their lives, and Jasper had ended up as anything but free because of it.
Mor shuffled, awkwardly unfolding her legs. "I'm not sure what to say about that."
"Me neither, to be honest," Jasper sniffled. Mor patted him on the shoulder awkwardly as he brushed the tears away from his eyes. As they sat in awkward silence for a moment, the boat rocked slightly and then began to slow.
"I think we're slowing down?" Mor said, hopping to her feet. "Maybe we're about to stop."
"Maybe," Jasper replied, scrambling up. As he peered over the edge of the boat, he spotted the very dock he'd boarded the boat from on the first day."That's where I got on originally."
"Thank fuck," Mor snorted.
As the boat slowly came to a stop, the ramp slid out, presenting them a way off, They took it without any hesitation; Jasper nearly tripped at the bottom in his eagerness, but Mor caught him just before he hit the ground. Pausing, they both stared at the boat they'd spent the last day on.
"I can't wait to never see this thing again," Mor growled, turning and storming off towards the treeline. "C'mon!" And, eagerly, Jasper scrambled after her.
He had never been happier to follow somebody else in his life.
Day Four, 9:21 AM
Location: The Forest
It seemed like the forest went on forever.
Ping sighed as she dragged herself over another fallen log. She wasn't sure if she'd gotten herself turned around accidentally or if the forest was just impossible to navigate, but she was especially frustrated to be this lost. She'd come so far; the last thing Ping wanted to do was die in this never ending forest.
M'Pingo Apara refused to die so easily.
Sinking to the ground on a large rock in the shade, Ping let herself relax for a moment. It was like the Arena was sapping her of all her energy, leaving her a wandering husk, empty with no tangible goal.
God, Ping was tired of this place. She couldn't wait to leave, in fact. At least every day that passed was one more closer to the end, whether that be death or going home.
She almost couldn't bring herself to care which came first at this point.
Ping dug through her bag, pulling out the last of her rations, a quarter of a sleeve of crackers and a few pieces of dried fruit. The girl groaned; she'd been searching as she walked through the forest for anything she could forage, but there hadn't been much in the way of edible things. Even then, Ping wasn't sure that anything she found would be safe to eat. None of the plants here were familiar to her; everything from the trees looming far above her head to the plants dotting their roots was foreign.
With a sigh, Ping took out two crackers and put the rest of her food back into her bag. She'd have to make her meager supplies last a little longer.
As she pushed herself to her aching feet, a curious sound started. It was a faint buzzing- almost like the cicadas in Eleven on a hot day, but it wasn't quite the same. As it rapidly got louder, it sounded as if it was moving, and moving quickly. Ping looked all around her, not seeing anything in the trees, so she kept her head down, pushing onwards faster. For good measure, Ping pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head, zipping the front up to her chin. She doubted it'd do much, but at least hopefully it could provide a little bit of cover.
The buzzing got louder and louder. She didn't want to look back, but curiosity got the best of her as she peered over her shoulder.
The cloud of bugs following on her heels only propelled her forward faster.
Ping picked up her pace, jogging first and then running. Of course, this was the last thing she needed right now. It was almost like the Arena was out to get her at this point. The tree roots beneath her feet seemed to shift, trying to trip her up, but Ping kept her footing- she had no other choice. If she didn't, she'd get caught, and if she got caught who knew what those things would do to her.
M'Pingo Apara had no choice but to fight on a little longer.
Day Four, 9:55
Location: Nothern Slides
Ifer yawned, stretching her arms far above her head. She was exhausted, her entire body aching with the bruises from their collective tumble the day before. She almost couldn't believe it'd happened- sure, she knew Pluto was clumsy, but to that extent? Ifer simply didn't expect it to be quite as bad as it was. Pluto was nothing but a string of unfortunate events, one chasing after the other, and Ifer was getting tired of fixing the problems those events caused. These were the Games, after all; she had to look out for herself first and foremost.
Ifer had to get home to her sisters, there was no question about it. And she wasn't going to get there if she had to keep fixing every problem Pluto brought with him.
At least they had a good campsite, atop a tower that once held one of the giant slides dotted around them. The platform they were camped out on was more than big enough for the both of them, and it was high up enough that they had a good view over everything else around them. They'd be able to see other tributes coming from a mile away, which gave Ifer some peace of mind. It wasn't likely anybody would find them up here if they were inconspicuous enough, and Ifer was making sure they were being careful.
She shuffled, pushing her back against the railing surrounding the platform. On the opposite side from her, the railing was broken away, leaving a wide gap she could look through. It was a nice enough view. With the height of the platform it felt like they were alone in the Arena, even though Ifer knew this wasn't true. Just a few nights before, they'd seen Calvin's face flashing across the sky, and Ifer knew there were only more to come.
She refused to let herself be next.
"Good morning!" Pluto exclaimed as he sat up.
"Morning,"
"What's the plan for today?" Pluto asked, instantly going for his bag, pulling out two granola bars and handing one to Ifer.
"Dunno," Ifer replied through a mouth of granola. "We could maybe afford to get more water though."
"That means taking a trip down…" Pluto hummed.
"Well, you don't need to come," Ifer replied, a little more harshly than she'd intended. Pluto winced slightly. "Sorry. But it's true - I could run down on my own."
Pluto blinked a few times, continuing to eat. "If you feel safe enough, then sure!"
Ifer nodded. Perhaps some time apart was just what they needed- being stuck together in a deathmatch with only one other person to talk to was certain to put strain on whatever friendship they had. If she could set up trips down on her own regularly, then if the situation ever called for it, she could easily slip away from Pluto. It wasn't like Ifer wanted to do that, but it seemed with every passing day that leaving would be her only choice. The prospect of being all alone in the Arena scared Ifer, but if Pluto was going to keep dragging her down like this, it would be better if they parted ways.
No matter how much Ifer liked Pluto, she couldn't give up her life for him.
"I might get going soon then,"
"Okay!" Pluto nodded, casting his eyes down. "I might walk down with you, actually. I'm getting kinda bored."
"I can't blame you," Ifer laughed, standing. Her muscles were so tight and underused that it'd be a good chance to loosen up a bit. It felt nice to take a break sure, but that didn't mean they could get too comfortable, especially
Moving to pick her bag up, Pluto held out a hand. "I can carry it if you want."
"Are you sure?" Ifer asked.
"Of course! I can be helpful at least!" Pluto grinned. Ifer handed him the bag, watching as he threw it over his shoulder nonchalantly. She was glad he'd offered it; Ifer's shoulders still ached deeply from carrying the surprisingly heavy bag around the Arena. But having a heavy bag meant she had supplies, and she'd much rather have a heavy bag and sore shoulders than no supplies at all.
The pair began making their way down, their footsteps rattling on the metal stairs. They somehow felt more rickety every time they went up or down them, and that made Ifer nervous. At the very least, if anybody was ever coming up the stairs, they'd have plenty of forewarning.
"It's nice out today," Ifer commented, ignoring the dark clouds she saw out in the distance.
"It is," Pluto agreed, but curiously, he didn't elaborate further. He'd been… off since their tumble down the stairs, and while Ifer wanted to tell herself it wasn't her biggest concern, she still didn't like to see him sad. Even if she was planning on leaving him at some point, he didn't deserve anything bad happening to him.
And that's what made the prospect of leaving so much harder.
"Are you alright?" Ifer asked as they rounded another corner. "I just want to make sure you're okay."
Pluto paused for a moment, before responding. "I'm… fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Positively sure!" Pluto exclaimed. "There's no need to worry about me."
"If you say so," Ifer nodded, as they fell into silence again, save for the wind whistling around them and the sound of their own footsteps. It was peaceful.
Until it wasn't.
They rounded another corner, nearly down to the bottom now, the ground close enough that Ifer felt better about the height- and as they did, she heard voices.
"Pluto!" Ifer hissed sharply. "Get back."
Pluto perked his head up, and his eyes went wide as she held an arm out, pushing him back up the stairs. He crouched down as much as he could manage, retreating upwards, and Ifer followed suit. She carefully poked her head around the corner as two figures came into view: the imposing boy from Two and the striking girl from One.
"It's Careers," Ifer said softly as she continued watching the pair. They didn't seem to be going in their direction, just passing by- as long as Ifer and Pluto were careful they'd continue onwards, none the wiser.
"Oh fuck," Pluto replied, attempting to match her volume and failing. "Should we go further up and hide from them?"
Ifer only shook her head- it wasn't worth the risk. They were still far enough up that the pair would pass by and not see them, and if they kept moving, they risked making noise on the creaky stairs. If they had any inkling of Ifer and Pluto's presence up here, they had very few escape options- either they could go up, or they could try and drop down off the side of the stairs. They'd be trapped if they went up, but they were still up a little too high off the ground for Ifer to feel okay with that escape route.
"But-"
"No, we can't. Just stay there."
Ifer held her breath as the Careers passed in front of the start of the stairs they were on. The silence around them was so tense that it felt like it'd snap at any moment.
Until, as Ifer looked to Pluto, the boy shifted slightly- and something creaked beneath his weight.
Ifer gasped quietly, staring at her wide-eyed ally as she scrambled to her feet. "Fucking move!" Ifer yelped, as she went to scramble down the stairs. Perhaps if she was fast enough she could get past the Careers? She didn't know - she hardly knew where to start - but her mind was screaming for her to run and Ifer had to listen. She had to find a way out of here.
Ifer rounded the corner, quickly realizing that the One girl was blocking her path. Where else could she go? What could she do now? Ifer frantically searched her surroundings, finding another path. The railing of the staircase had gaps in it that were large enough to slip through. The drop to the ground intimidated her, but not as much as the Careers, so Ifer preferred taking her chances with the drop. But the One girl must've anticipated her movement, catching her by the hair just as Ifer was about to slip through the bars of the railing and yanking her back. Ifer screeched, turning and raking her nails across the other girl's face. One yelped but didn't release her until a familiar freckled hand wrapped around the girl's arm, tearing it off of Ifer. He pushed the girl, sending her stumbling back into her ally as he ducked under the railing next to her.
It was Pluto. He'd helped- really helped when it came down to it.
"Thanks!" Ifer managed to weasel her way through the railing. She carefully balanced on the edge, making sure to hold on tightly as Pluto followed her. He quickly began floundering, and Ifer soon realized the source of his problem: his bag was caught on the railing. With the Careers descending on them rapidly, Ifer knew they were running out of time. She reached over with her other hand, trying her best to free him, but to little effect.
She could go. She should go. But if Ifer left, what would become of Pluto?
And if she stayed, what would become of her?
Mystic grunted in frustration as the Eight girl rolled out of her way, causing her sword to screech painfully against the metal platform. She cringed at the noise before bringing her sword back up, reevaluating the situation.
She refused to let this kill go. She'd already missed out on all the kills at the Bloodbath- Mystic had to prove herself somehow, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so.
She wouldn't let it go to waste.
Mystic swung her sword in a wide arc, and this time she struck true. Her sword sank into Eight's ribcage with a sickening noise, the girl gasping loudly, her eyes going wide. Mystic grinned and yanked her sword out, satisfied with her work and ready to go after the girl's ally. But as she went to take a step forward, she felt something latch onto her ankle, nearly causing her to lose her balance. The Eight girl's hand was wrapped around her ankle, almost as if she was trying to stop Mystic with the last of her energy. She kicked the Eight's hand off and stomped on it for good measure, a satisfying crunch resounding. The girl cried out weakly, releasing her ankle, and Mystic moved towards where her ally-
Or at least, towards where her ally had been, as Mystic quickly realised he was gone. She peered over the edge of the railing, spotting the ginger boy on the ground below. He quickly scrambled to his feet, running for the treeline nearby, and as he disappeared into the treeline-
A cannon fired.
"Do you want to go after him?" Mystic panted, turning to Reign.
"If you so desire," Reign replied, sheathing his sword at his hip. As he did, he pushed the body of the Eight girl off the narrow stairway, sending her tumbling to the ground below. Mystic didn't say anything, only gritting her teeth- he couldn't even do so much as respect the dead. On top of that, he hadn't even bothered to help her in this fight. It only caused her to wonder more why he'd gotten a score of twelve- Reign Legatus didn't seem like anything special.
All in all, Reign was just another Career. Just another obstacle in her way on the road to victory. And Mystic was keen to get rid of him.
She planned to make a clean escape, leaving in the night and taking all the supplies she could manage. And while that felt like the coward's way out, Mystic didn't want to pick a fight with him. She couldn't be entirely sure what Reign was capable of- he'd killed Tarni easily enough, and if Mystic wasn't careful, she'd end up dead just the same.
Maybe Mystic should've taken Chiffon's offer. Maybe she should've just left when she was given that chance. Her District partner didn't seem good for much, but he hadn't needed to give her the opportunity for escape.
Perhaps Chiffon was looking out for her more than she thought.
Mystic shook her head. "What's your plan?"
"Keep searching," Reign replied. "There's no other option."
"Mm," Mystic nodded. "But where are the results of all your effort?"
"What?"
"We have nothing to show for our hard work. All we've done is wander around and fail at being Careers," Mystic said, sheathing her sword over her shoulder. "We don't even have a real idea of what we're doing."
Reign sighed. "What else do you propose we do then, if you think this course of action is so ineffective."
Mystic paused for a moment, scrambling to form a plan - she hadn't exactly expected to get this far. "You want to go after Three. Why don't we make Three come to us?"
"And how do you propose we go about doing that?" Reign said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "We don't have anything she could need."
"But… surely there will be a feast, right? And they put things everyone needs there," Mystic retorted. And as she spoke, as if right on cue, a crackling noise rang out over the arena.
"Hello dear tributes… I think more than a few of you will be thrilled to hear that we will be holding a feast in exactly twenty-four hours. Now, it is up to you if you'd like to attend, but I'm sure you will find plenty of helpful things there if you do choose to go."
Mystic turned to Reign, spreading her arms out. "Now what do you think of that?" She grinned. If she could plan this right, she could easily slip away from Reign while he was distracted by whatever vitriol he held for the Three girl.
Reign paused for a moment before he responded. "I don't see why we can't give it a try. It's not a guarantee she'll show up though."
"But, if she does…" Mystic trailed off, Reign's eyes glinting darkly with the possibilities. He nodded once, confidently.
Mystic Hannemann was back on top of the world, and being there never felt so good.
14th: Ifer Aiguille, District Eight. Stabbed by Mystic Hannemann.
Kills:
Reign Legatus: IV
Chiffon Shivaan: II
Dean Karafanda: I
Morrigan Meadowlark: I
Mystic Hannemann: I
Arena: II
Alliances:
Two Bros Chilling In A Fountain: Chiffon, Dean, Cecil
Well Fuck: Mystic, Reign.
Gay Peepol: Diesel, Verity.
Well, guess we're stuck here: Mor, Jasper
Outer District Solidarity: Nugua, Carter
All my fucking allies died/Loners: Ping, Pluto
