A/N: WHAT'S UP GUYS IT'S TIME FOR DAY TWOOOO! Are you excited? Oh why am I even asking, of course you are! How could you not be? /side eye myself _ /. Anywhatsit, today we're going to be revisiting the careers and two punk-ass rebellious rogues. Who are these punk-ass rebellious rogues? Hint hint: one of them is from three, and the other one is from fiveoh shit their district partners are dead nvm aura of mystery canceled :(.
TW for squick in the last POV.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
I'm going to kill her.
The sky is blue, the grass is green, the world spins and spins on its unmovable axis, and I am going to kill Serena Melenese.
And when I do, I'll tell them- She had it coming.
"We need to ration our food appropriately. Hoarders, I see you." She says calmly, finishing off an apple with neat little bites. Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite, I think in the secluded privacy of my head, employing the same tactics I used against my asshole of a stylist- clamming up, but maiming her in my head. When I kill her, I think I'll club her to death with fucking apples. If she hasn't eaten all of them by then.
In a boarded off part of my mind, a dry and sour voice remarks that I sure am going out of my way to find things to hate about her. That honestly, I should just admit my humiliation at the one time she somehow bested me, and circle my hatred and urge for a rivalry around that. That I should stop floundering for an excuse, any excuse, and just man up already, tell myself the truth. That since I realized I'd be going into the games, I've longed for a victory, any victory against my district partner.
Because winning doesn't always mean pushing your way to the top.
In a stunning bout of understanding, I win this mental argument by pushing the little voice away, where it will remain stewing in its own juices. FOREVER.
The career pack is unstable. Anyone with eyes can see that. Venie's on Taurus' bad side (Okay, his worst side. As if he has a good side.) ever since she went and stole a kill he claimed was rightfully his- and she doesn't exactly like him, either. Killing Mason during the bloodbath didn't exactly turn us on Serena- none of us really gave a halfhearted shit about the guy- but we're all kind of apprehensive around her now, shifting where we're sitting like children waiting about being told off by their teacher. Except for me. I never fidget. Ever, and absolutely not.
Serena stretches and neatly tucks her apple core into the backpack. I feel a surge of mild sadistic euphoria when I think about apple juices soaking all of her stuff. It fades, however, when she rethinks that move, pulls the core out of her backpack, and sticks it in mine, grinning smugly.
Sometimes being controlling my unfathomable rage can be… difficult.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
My former naïvete was something to look back on and laugh on now. I could already feel myself growing harder and colder. Purely metaphorically, of course, but I could help but imagine my muscular frame morphing into hard, chitinous armor, carapace plates sprouting between my well-oiled joints, imprisoning me in a crustacean's cage. Well. I guess that's proof I haven't changed that much. I still have an artist's brain. I still don't relish the thought of killing. But I'm certain my level of obnoxiousness has risen, as well as how often I turn around when Maximus is walking behind me. That's risen too.
Ever since my altercation with Crescent, I've been on the lookout for shark's grins. Venie doesn't show them off often, but when she does, they aren't in my direction. And I'm glad- she's a scary chick. Taurus does them regularly, but he can't pull them off. It's all in the dimples- the dimples he absolutely doesn't have. His glowers are enough anyways. For anyone unexposed to them, that is- the rest of us are desensitized by now.
Maximus pulls this shit the most often. I wish he had less of a grip over my internal monologue.
"C'mon, let's go hunt!" Maximus says, interrupting my thoughts from progressing any further. "We've only killed one guy. The rest of the tributes aren't going to weed themselves out." "You don't know that," I say, partially to agitate him, but partially because it's true. Outer district tributes are capable of making kills to survive. There's no glory in them, but there doesn't have to be. Tooth and nail goes a long way when wrestling with a 12-year-old. There are bound to be mutts as well. Blood will splatter across the ground, and we won't necessarily be the ones shedding it. We don't need to be.
Maximus knows this as well as I do, which is why my train of thought is futile. He just wants to kill.
I don't, not really. But being alone with Maximus, even for a murder party, will yield some interesting results. I'm morbidly curious, even. How does he think he can get away with killing me?
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
How is she going to approach this? I know that there's a way I can corner Serena and kill her during the hunt. She knows that too, and knows that there's also a way she could kill me. There's a whole other, nonverbal conversation underneath this banal murder chat, and we're playing xanatos speed chess with it. With every dark glower and toothy grin there's another question being asked.
How do I get her to agree?
Will she decide the gain outweighs the risk?
How do we get Venie and Taurus out of the way?
Am I sure I'll come out on top?
That's one question I don't need answered.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
Should I even agree to this?
Who's to say Taurus and Venie won't agree anyways, rendering it all null and void?
What weapons will he bring? Will it be a big issue?
Am I sure I'll come out on top?
That inquiry's already resolved.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
Venie speaks up, piercing our passionate mumbling and mental deliberations. "I'm not going." She says calmly. Well. That's one problem vanquished. Half a problem? She pushes her greasy hair away from her pallid face. "I've got to clean my knives. The care and keeping of blades is very important, you know."
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
She leers, a crocodile smile pasted on her face.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
As she says this, she glances over at Taurus for a split second. He's half asleep and mumbling under his breath. Probably wanking it to murdering Venie or the guy from 10 in his malformed dreams. Venie smiles, faux-tenderly, at his limp form and runs the smooth, flat side of the blade underneath her thumb. "He's not coming either." She croons. For a split second I wonder if leaving Venie with him is the best idea. Then I remember that I actually don't care about Taurus' wellbeing and Venie's a much more valuable member of this clown troupe. I shrug. "Suit yourself."
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
Maximus and I prepare head out. I take my time deliberating over what to bring- trident or rapier? I'm skilled with both and I want to make sure I bring the most efficient weapon, sure, but I'm also clinging to life, stalling. I don't want to die. I have a lot to do.
So I'm going to have to suck it up, kill this poser, and always remember my mother (I miss you, Elvira, sorry I didn't call you mom) and the paint everywhere, to call it red red paint.
I grab the rapier and rise to my feet. The joints in my ankles crackle like brush fibers.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
My hands are slick, and I'm not sure why. My fingers scrabble over the hilt of my rapier. She chooses the same weapon. I remember our duel on the train and hot, poisonous rage fills me up, my stomach muscles clenching and unclenching in the remembrance of humiliation. She won't win again. My temper is under control. My tongue is under control. I am control.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
Venie sticks her tongue out at us as we leave. "Goooood luck!" She giggles, acting as if I'm out to get laid rather than kill a guy.
I don't wish her good luck back, but she takes it as if I have.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
We keep up the pretenses for a few minutes. Tension falls upon us like a second skin- and by us I mean Serena. Because I'm not tense or apprehensive at all. Nope. Only purpose here.
Her footsteps are soft and her feet barely touch the ground as we walk, and I know it's because she's ready to run or jump at a moment's notice. I skim the mirrors with the pads of my fingers. My reflection watches me critically. I think I see it wink.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
I hope he can't hear how hard I'm breathing. That's something I can't make into an art form.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
My instincts are screaming at me to get out. I don't trust them. I don't think that's my instincts.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
Maximus tries to get behind me. I don't let him.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
That's not me. Not the one who headed out with Serena five minutes ago, that is.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
I whip around, rapier held aloft, barely quivering, shining from the faint light the mirrors emit. Two Maximus' stand in front of me. I freeze, confused, and see the mirror to the right of the Maximus on the left rippling like a disturbed pond.
Reflected in that mirror, I see a familiar body emerge from a glass cocoon.
Arms lock themselves around my neck.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
The other me swings his rapier in my direction. I dodge the arcing blade and scramble for mine, meeting his with a clash of steel, light reverberating like sound waves from our blades. Instinct takes over, and I let it, because I can tell the difference between my body's commands and the whispers from an askew mirror.
Parry, parry, thrust, thrust. Defense, offence, defense, offence, defense, offence. We dance. But we're equally matched. After all, we're the same people. There's only really one option.
I lock eyes with Serena, who's escaped her chokehold and is now trading identical blows with her clone. I don't say anything, but I think she understands.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
I'll save your life if you save mine.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
We back away from our respective partners and combat. Other-me smiles in a weirdly sharkish way, thinking I'm retreating. Thinking he's won. Thinking like me, because he is me.
That's when Serena and I swap.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
I rush forwards like a rampaging bull, ducking underneath other-me's arm and sliding my rapier forwards. It slides through other-Maximus wetly. He lets out a choking gasp, like his mouth's filling slowly with cold, cold water, and disappears, leaving my blade encrusted with silver goop.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
I charge other-Serena and my sword enters her throat easy as pie. Spit flows and flowers from her mouth, gray and gunky and metallic, like her reflective embryo. She fades away, nothing left of her but her blood on my hands.
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
With the immediate danger out of the way, me and Maximus trade awkward glances. The tension has dissipated, replaced with just… awkwardness and confusion. We shuffle our feet.
I speak up first.
"Sooo… are we still going to kill each other?"
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
I frown. She's still really obnoxious. And I still want to prove my objective superiority over her in every field. But… she saved my life. That's not just nothing. That's not irrelevant. I deliberate for a few high-concept seconds.
"Final two. I'll kill you then."
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
Maximus sticks his hand out, still slick with clone juice. I hesitate. Do I really want this? Wouldn't it be more pragmatic to kill my biggest competition now, so the only person I need to face in the finale is a scrawny, malnourished outlier who survived so long by curling up into a corner and making sure to cry quietly?
Oh, who am I kidding.
I reach for his hand.
Maximus Vulcan, District 4 Male
I flick a chunk of other-Serena in her face.
"FUCK YOU!"
Serena Melenese, District 4 Female
Somehow, as I say this, I know our promise is still intact.
Futura Light, District 3 Female
If you look up the dictionary definition of on edge, it'd define it as this moment.
These halls are practically endless. Corridors upon corridors of mirrors, plush red velvet, and faint luminescence that seem to stretch upon forever and ever without fail. There's an insidious boredom in our movements, a sluggishness only present in those tasked with something that seems impossible. There've been no cannons since the one that came midday yesterday, and that one wasn't Crystaille as shown by the night-time faces, so she's not dead… not yet. Still, though, she could be lying wounded in a hallway, running from the careers, or just on the other side of the arena entirely. We have no way of knowing.
I'm not used to not knowing things, to being in the dark. It's… unpleasant. Highly unpleasant. Like all of my movements, all of my decisions are shrouded in a fog. Like everything I do could potentially lead to death. Well. Not "like it." Everything I do could. And that's another scary thing. All of my half formed hypotheticals, like maybe i'll die right now, or maybe i'll end up in the Hunger Games are all becoming horribly plausible. There is no longer a margin of error.
Thoughts like this fuck me up. Scientific thoughts, as if this isn't delicate and emotional. Like it's just… clinical. An experiment, with every trial introducing a new independent variable. My connections seem meaningless.
They aren't. Even if Cajsa, Futura, and I all die today… they aren't meaningless. Just because they aren't a priority doesn't make them null and void. Life comes first. But empathy can come second rather than dead last, can't it?
Can't it?
I wish I knew what I'm meant to do.
Nyso Torrent, District 5 Male
The arena is dark. Horribly, awfully dark. Not the dark I can crouch and revel in, the dark I can hide from all of my fear and anger and reciprocal hatred in, but a dark where everything is visible, especially me.
There are some benefits to being a rat, to being a time bomb with a hidden fuse. No one sees you. But there's a spotlight, a shadow spotlight upon me, and I'm a rat in a maze. The donkey, with the stick in front of me and the carrot far behind, somewhere I could never reach it.
I vaguely remember it being light before, ethereal glowing light from tinted mirrors. But there's none, not any more, and I crash into invisible wall and invisible wall, a pinball, a rat trap. A lost cause. Blowback.
I hit the wall again, but, this time, instead of reeling backwards on unsteady feet, I fall through and hit earth. I smell water, and trees, and fire. But I'm still in the dark, and my ears are bleeding.
My ears are bleeding.
My ears are bleeding…
Chunky blood, like salsa or tomato sauce pours from all my orifices, clogging my head, jamming my mind. It fills me up, my hatred of my self, salsa and rat tails and bits of brain. Ink soup. I look up. My eyeballs are mush, guts and nuts and bolts in my cranial cavities. I feel myself rot away as I stare at myself, a smiling shark self. He places his hand on my head, and we shrivel into goop, pots and pans and sea and gulls. Pine wind and oaken air brushes my ruin skin, finely scented. I need a comfort object. My digits and peeled nails are my comfort objects. I need an explosion, I need my rage and rogue rebellion it's all I have it's all I have it's all I HAVE-
I'm fire. I'm fire. I'm fire.
I wake, and the only fire is in my sand-dry throat.
A/N: That was really anime.
I'm such a tease, aren't I? All this buildup to a Serena/Maximus fight and they didn't even kill each other :(. At least you guys get to see them kill metaphysical representations of each other? Speaking of which, what do you all think about the mirror mutts? Do you think they'll ever actually kill anyone? For that matter, who do you think is going to win the Serena/Maximus showdown? And when will it happen? It sure seems like they'll be the final two. But what if they're not? What if they're not even going to fight at all? What then? What if I just kill one of them in a stupid way the next chapter for shits and giggles? Truly, I am a mystery wrapped inside an enigma wrapped inside a self-loathing hot pocket. ;). Anyways, nice little no-death chapter, huh? Who do you think's gonna hit the bucket next? Thoughts on Futura and Cajsa (and Nyso)? Will they ever find Crystaille? What the hell is she up to? Are Nyso's dreams prophetic, or is he just weird? Who's even the victor, anyways? I'll say this much: at this point, I've decided upon our victor, as well as everyone's placings. Maybe I'll shake it up drastically and kill the victor next chapter or something, but I don't think so. I'm pretty happy with the decision I've made. So, feel free to go nuts with speculation in the comments! And, barring that, at least comment SOMETHING. They fuel me.
See you next time for Day 3!