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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 4, 2019 8:58:42 GMT -5
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall [NOTE: this header change, I wouldn’t say I’d keep it for the events of the normal roleplay. It’s just to represent the change Macaria goes through after the beginning of the rebellion]
It was not long after Macaria had woken up in the rebel base. She’d watched quietly for a few moments while the tributes around her greeted their families. They all had someone. Even after all these years, she still felt a twinge of jealousy sometimes about others having families. Maybe it’d never go away.
But while she sat alone, a blonde woman approached her. Diana, one of the stylists. She offered Macaria a hand but the brunette refused, stubbornly deciding to rise to her feet on her own despite how wobbly she felt.
Diana silently nodded towards the doorway, inviting Macaria to take a walk with her. The district 2 girl accepted, figuring she might as well agree since it seemed Diana wanted to speak to her, and so the pair began to walk.
Now, if the movements of Macaria could have been described as elegant, Diana put her to shame. Calm, smooth, graceful. When she spoke her voice was pleasant, despite the Capitol accent. Clear and musical. It was clear she’d been trained in the Capitol by years of having eyes upon her. But sometimes that facade seemed to break, and something more fiery shone through. Something sharper in the confidence of her stance and her voice, a force behind her words. She had emotions she struggled to hide. It was like looking into a mirror.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” the stylist was saying “I’ve no doubt that you all do. But first there is something I wish to show you.”
The older woman led Macaria down the deserted corridors to a room filled with armours, uniforms. All black. And it didn’t take the District 2 girl long to figure out that they were for her and the others.
Diana stood beside one that was just the right size for Macaria. A light black armour with space to store her throwing knives. Perfect for agility and speed, and built for her weapon of choice. It was far different from the armour of say, Amadrya, which was heavier to allow for hand-to-hand combat.
“You made this for me?” Macaria asked incredulously
“Oh, goodness no,” Diana laughed “I’m not nearly this good. This is mostly my brother’s work, he’s far more talented than I, I’ve just helped him. My main job was supervising the plan, trying to get people on side, that kind of thing.”
The stylist cast her gaze over Macaria’s armour.
“Besides, Alistair wanted to personally design the armours for you and Everest. He is your stylist, after all. He knows you best. Why don’t you try it on?”
Macaria did so, and she saw herself reflected in a mirror in the corner of the room. She looked different, but in a good way. She looked like herself, but the true her she hadn’t ever known. The her she was meant to be.
“Diana, I appreciate all this,” she said hesitantly, “but I can’t. I can’t join the rebellion, I can’t do this.”
“And why not?” came the reply
“Because this person is a million miles away. I’m a kid, and more than that, I’m a Career. I’ve spent my whole life preparing to please the Capitol, I’ve murdered for them, I’ve done terrible things for money and fame and just because I’ve been told that I’m supposed to. Isn’t it too late for me? Shouldn’t you have older people, or people like Holly, with true hatred for the Capitol? I can’t be trusted, I’m a Capitol mutt. I would have killed all the kids in that Arena, Halina and Ari and Alessandro... I can’t do this.”
And she wanted to hate the Capitol, but it was hard. Even though she was aware of a lot of the terrible things it did, and she certainly wasn’t in love with it, everything she’d experienced in her life had taught her that to survive she needed to please the Capitol and be loyal to it. And as she’d grown up living a life where survival was all she’d aimed for, pleasing the Capitol seemed to have worked pretty well in getting her to this point. Every instinct she had was telling her to retreat again, go back to being unfeeling. To go against what she knew was right because it was her best chance to keep living.
But was that really living? Was surviving in a world she hated really living? She was finally being offered an opportunity here, a chance she would never get again.
Diana sighed, folding her arms.
“Alright, Macaria, I didn’t think you were the type to feel sorry for yourself but I am going to say to you what Holly would tell you right now, because I know you’d listen to her. Get over yourself. You are have a chance you will never get again, a chance to redeem yourself and do the right thing for once in your life. To break the cycle. We need you, and the others need you. Your district partner you almost killed for the entertainment of the Capitol needs you. And if you walk away from this the guilt won’t ever leave you. You’re all brave kids, you’ve been through a lot, and there’s no reason you can’t be a hero, leave the person you were behind you.”
The brunette listened to Diana’s words and took one last look in the mirror. Perhaps she was right, this was a chance to redeem herself. Have a do-over, become a good person. Break the cycle, show the Capitol she wasn’t a pawn or a mutt or whatever they wanted her to be.
“I’m in.” |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Aug 4, 2019 15:26:01 GMT -5
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dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” Dust and darkness were common motifs in the life that Holly Alandria had lived. Loss, and being lost were both common themes. Anger, sadness, and complete hopelessness were truths and hope and freedom were unknowns.
She had come to accept her own death when she was chosen for the games and met Burton Acton. She was prepared to let him live and to die in his place, so he could go on and be the person he deserved to live to be.
Dodging a slash from the tribute before her, Holly reminded herself of this fact. She had already accepted this, death had to come so he could live.
She still took the chance to run despite such thoughts, sparing a small glance at Amadrya as she ran past. She was faster than most of the Careers, but that wouldn’t help her live.
”All my life I’ve been hunted,”
Her feet were quick, her balance well, but she heard them closing in, and her time was running out.
”I’ve always lost, I’ve always had to give, and I’ve never gotten anything in return.”
A cry escaped her, a knife lodged into her leg, her body falling, giving up it’s weight and collapsing. Like some injured, trapped animal.
”I can run, but I never escape.”
Her icy glare turned to Macaria, who approached with knife in hand, that terrible glint in her eyes, ready to kill, to finish off the hunt and return to her pack victorious.
”I’m like a Raven, around groups I’m an unkindness, and alone I’m an outcast. But they? They are wolves.”
Halina stood to the side, grinning, Alessandro was smirking. She was their prey, their prey they finally caught. She eluded them for a while, mocked them too many times before.
After her, they would hunt each other, none of these wolves were ever happy with just one kill, they had to kill and kill and kill.
”And wolves kill whoever stands in their ways.”
And that was her.
“Let’s give the Capitol a show!” Macaria trilled, much to the cheers that followed from Alessandro, Halina and Sapphire. They agreed, crying out for her death, and she knew that Capitol was too.
Everest was remarkably silent, to her surprise, and less to her surprise was Amadrya, who wore a glance that remained between pitiful and guilty.
She couldn’t help but think of both of the silent tributes as pathetic. They had a voice, they could use it. At least Alessandro, Halina and Sapphire did. Macaria did one better and acted on her ambitions.
Macaria approached closer, and she herself backed up, scuttling back in some odd mix of a crabwalk, rushed and messy. Blood spilled like a broken glass of red wine from her leg, and fear and adrenaline filled her bones like a fire.
”My wings were broken, and the wolves were hungry for blood. The alpha hunted but the beta remained near the fox, an outsider to the pack that they took in.”
Everest still stood beside Amadrya, remaining silent as ever, not a word escaping his lips, and a pathetic look of fake stoicism upon his face.
Yet Macaria tilted her head up, slowly, cruelly and painfully slow, a knife in hand, playfully tracing Holly’s skin with it, leaving tiny little cuts and beads of blood.
She was met with an unkindly silence, burning peridot eyes staring into her own.
”More fittingly, I went from a Raven to a Crow...”
Holly rose her head, her hand retracting out as thoughts burned in her skull.
”You see, I went back on my prior choices, I was not ready.”
Then she laughed, slow and dark and full of dry humor, something that shocked Macaria to a small degree, and the others around.
Her own thoughts roamed, she had accepted death, blamed the Capitol. But perhaps she misplaced the blame, Sure the Capitol was still wrong, they had the blood on their hands, but these careers had a choice, most hand volunteered, most chose this path.
”I wasn’t ready to die, and I wasn’t ready to accept death.”
It was a flash, the hand that held the knife pointed for Holly’s side was snatched, Holly’s own grip around Macaria’s grip like a vice, a piece of glass lay dormant beside the to girls, and within a quick, but still painfully slow movements, Holly grabbed the glass in her other hand, her right one, as she held onto Macaria’s wrist with her left.
”Like a Raven, I was an unkindness in groups, but like a Crow, I was murder within them.”
Macaria was frozen, fear building in her gaze, something that was unsettling and surprising to her. Macaria killed, surely she knew the tides may turn, surely she would accept that fact with a smirk and courageous parting words.
Then again, they were all human, fear was natural.
“You know, how you feel now is how they felt,” She said, her voice surprisingly hollow and unapologetic, and just as quick she stabbed Macaria right in the abdomen, where Macaria was going to stab her.
She dropped the glass just as fast, her a cry of anger escape a nearby boy, Alessandro, and tore her own eyes away from the fearful and hopeless gaze Macaria held.
Instead, she favored herself with Macaria’s daggers. The knives had dropped when Macaria did, the other girl clutching her wound and curling into a helpless ball. Holly, however, was on her feet.
Many of the Careers were stunned, Holly just killed the alpha without much of a effort, and now she was on the the alpha’s little loverboy next. Moreso, he was chraging at her in his angry, careless fury, and Halina and Sapphire were willing to let him do so, remaining back and fishing for their weapons Incase they needed them.
Amadrya stayed remarkably still, gaping, and Everest was watching, looking like a cross between relieved at an opponent being gone and sad at losing his District partner.
Alessandro swung his sword at Holly, something she dodged quickly, rolling out of the way and standing. The adrenaline pushed away the pain, her need to fight and survive kicking in.
No longer the hunted, she noted with cruel humor.
“You killed her!” Alessandro snapped angrily, swinging again, reckless, intent on death.
“If you hurry, you may get to bid her adieu,” Holly quipped, sidestepping.
“Shut up, bitch!” He seethed, charging forward, clinging his sword against her much tinier knife that she used to shield herself.
Her eyes narrowed, a green fire within, “You don’t get the point, She was trying to kill me, at least I didn’t go out and hunt her!” Despite the dire situation, she couldn’t help the quip, but her humor was dry and crackling like fire, “Don’t make me repeat that action again, Alessandro.” She pushed away, backing up and barely dodging the swinging blade, though her grip on the knife tightened.
He didn’t respond, launching towards her, though she was done defending. His attack was met with one quick one of her own, one he was clueless to spotting in time, and when he spotted the attack, it was too late.
Like a flash, he swung at her, opening his chest up just enough that the small and lithe girl had a change to lunge past his own attack, and make her own, embedding her knife into his chest before staggering back with a hateful glare.
He stood for a moment, shocked, pulling out the knife, before that same fear entered his eyes, almost mirroring Macaria’s from earlier. A haunting, trembling fear.
”I don’t want to die!”
It was talking all on it’s own, and yet somehow it made her feel worse and better. They were human, they were like every other kid.
But then again, they killed, technically for fame, for fun, they weren’t like most kids, who volunteered to save other’s or were forced in with no choice. They made a choice to kill.
She glowered as the towering boy fell, dropping the knife, and she reached down and plucked it from his already chilling fingers, before turning her glare at the remaining Careers behind her.
They looked terrified, holding weapons in their hands like they usually did, but with a matching fear in their eyes.
She walked over, just a few steps, grabbing another knife from Macaria’s collection, brandishing one in each hand, as she stalked slightly closer to the Careers.
Everest, surprisingly, held a gun in hand, pointing it towards her.
Was it empty or not? She had no idea.
“Now, I hope your all sharp enough to get the point,” she growled out, adrenaline pushing out the words like the sickening humor she usually enjoyed, except, it was in an entirely new and terrifying way. “I don’t want to kill you, but I’m tired of being hunted like some injured animal.” She simply added.
“Why shouldn’t we kill you? We outnumber you!” Everest suddenly called out, though Amadrya tugged his arm slightly, as if trying to lead him away.
“What good would it do for you? One less tribute, right? Because that’s what matters more than the lives of children to you.” She bluntly stated, glowering at the District 2 boy, “Fame, being popular, having money, killing other kids just for some popularity contest. That what matters, right?” She seethed, “Because your lives matter so much more than any of ours. Death is just an idea to you, a fickle little thought that apparently has no consequences until it is you dying. Life is a toy, unless it’s your’s being dangled on a thread. Right?”
Silence, and she laughed again, sour and flat.
“Go ahead, kill me. Earn some sponsors, play their game, at least I won’t be the one who has to live with being a monster.”
Everest contemplated this, she could tell, but Amadrya tugged on his arm again.
“There’s no place for us here, let’s just go,” She was saying, and he looked back at her, they whispered some more.
Halina and Sapphire stood to the side, not talking, not glaring, but staring at her, and she raised an eyebrow at them.
“What, you let a vixen in your pack of wolves, of course she would turn on you eventually.” She noted, before sighing, “You should run, you’re no longer the hunters.”
Both girls waited a moment, staring at her quizzically, before turning to each other and nodding, their feet pounded into the distance, footfalls loud, and she turned, grabbing the package of knives from Macaria, and the slim swords Alessandro had, along with his sheath.
With that, she walked away, away from the two dead careers whose blood was on her hands, away from Amadrya and Everest, away from her little shelter with the boy she adored.
”I gained my wings, I flew away, alone like a Raven, away from my murder and unkindness, but now I’m here.”
Her gaze locked onto Burton as she spoke, only a few tributes remained. She hadn’t seen him since that day, and part of her knew he would search for her.
His eyes were wide, they stood across from each other.
“Only one of us can win,” he whispered, glancing at her with wide, forgiving eyes, “I can’t be that person.”
She didn’t cover it up, her sorrow at the sentence, “I can’t be either.” She admitted, staring off, “It was unfair of me to expect that out of you, to live on with this.” She added, sitting down on the roof edge, overlooking the broken city that was the arena. He joined her, and they sat in silence.
Everest was moping somewhere nearby, it was him, Holly, and Burton. He had killed Amadrya just the day before, she was sure that was the cause. Other tributes who survived so long died in the arena event days before, like Robin, Sapphire. Others just died in battles. Now three remained, but neither of the three wanted the win. She didn’t want to think about what she had to do, who she had to kill, she didn’t hunt them, but those who attacked her met violence in return, some ran for safety like they should, others were determined like Macaria and Alessandro, and those were the ones that died.
Regardless, the past guilt ate her up whole, self defense or not, she turned into what she vowed to never be, a murderer.
But she had a soft, silly idea. Three tributes left, no one wanted the win.
“Hey Burton?” She suddenly questioned, staring out over the city with a soft grin.
“What?”
“How funny would it be if the games had no victor?”
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Aug 4, 2019 15:55:47 GMT -5
Part of that oneshot was testing out that transition too.
Incase it wasn’t obvious, the italics were Holly’s description of what happened to Burton, she was telling him about what she did.
If anyone has requests for future fic stuff, or any characters and interactions, I’m free to do it,
I mean, I love writing from my character’s perspectives (because I know them best), I’m totally willing to write from other character’s perspectives and everything, or if you guys want to see interactions between let’s say, Ari and Bad!Holly, I’m game.
I’m also game for possible spoilers content about the future, I’ll try to skip around major stuff but some of that’s going to go in a while when the next intermission comes(next chapter).)
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possibly. I have a slight idea but it’ll just be like a mini scene thing I think)
possibly. I have a slight idea but it’ll just be like a mini scene thing I think)
