#game39

Kastos: Ladies and gentlemen, it’s with great honor we introduce you to the latest tribute to take the crown, Quiver Capuldi!

Kardos:  C’mon out here Quiv, or should we say Vox?

Quiver:  Ha, Quiver is fine.  Thanks for the introduction.

Kastos:  There’s something different about you.

Kardos:  Yeah, where’s the vicious boy who talked about blood the last time we spoke?

Quiver:  That would be Vox.

Kardos:  Well can we speak to him?  I know all of the Capitol is dying to see the personality that chopped up those tributes to bits.  

Quiver:  I’m afraid I don’t know where he is.  As soon as that last cannon fired, I can’t feel him anymore.  

Kardos: Lame.

Kastos:  Don’t be a dick, Kardos.  Quiver, it might’ve been Vox’s voice telling you what to do but don’t worry, we all know it was your hands that ended those lives.  

Quiver:…I suppose so, yeah.  

Kastos:  So what’s the plan now?  What are you gonna do with your prize money?

Quiver:  Well originally it was going to be used to treat my condition, but it looks like that kinda worked itself out.  So really I have no idea at the moment.  

Kardos: *Yawns*

Kastos:  Kardos!

Quiver:  Kastos, it’s okay.  Don’t apologize for him.  After all yawning is simply a sign of fatigue.  And fatigue is a sign of weakness.  He can’t help who he is.  How many years ago was it Kardos?  That it was you in the hot seat after having chopped those tributes to bits with the chainsaw.  Remember that surge of life that you felt as the blood splashed against your face?  The ending of their life brought new life to you, didn’t it?

Kardos: …

Kastos: …Vox?

Quiver:  Sorry, did you ask something?

Kardos:  Nope, we’re done.  Congrats Quiver, it’s time to go now, go off stage please.

Quiver:  Was it something I said?

Kastos:  I’m not so sure it was you who said it, to be honest.

As the siren's song filled the the ears of the remaining four tributes, Larah Alessia let an arrow she had nocked back not too long ago. It flew directly at Quiver, who did nothing to keep the weapon from grazing his side and his alter ego from taking over. Vox screamed out, letting Larah think her attack dealt more damage than it truly did. Larah smiled smugly as her partner charged the District 6 boy.

Scorpio swung his collapsible pick ax at Santos with as much might as he could muster with one arm, which Santos dodged with semi graceful movements. However, with the effects of his morphling withdrawal still lingering in his system, he wasn't all that efficient in controlling his body like he used to. Taking advantage of that, Scorpio managed to strike a blow in the boy's arm, shattering the bone as the metal spike pierced his arm. Santos cried out, trying to yank his arm away. Scorpio couldn't help but feel a sick pleasure in having someone else be tortured by an injured arm. Santos tried not to panic, but he was already on edge. He swallowed whatever anxiety was taking over him temporarily and throwing it into a brass knuckled punch. The metal grips sunk into Scorpio's cheek, knocking out a molar or two, filling his mouth with the metallic taste of blood. Scorpio fell to his feet, his weapon still embedded in Santos' arm, the latter of who quickly tossed the weapon away.

As Larah launched another arrow at the District 10 boy, who was still feigning severe injure on the ground, Vox tossed his titanium knife at the girl's bow. As Vox rolled out of the way, the knife cut the string in two, rendering her bow to be nothing but a metal arch. Scorpio, who had risen to his feet, went after Quiver with his sword, ready to kill the boy. Quiver, too, got to his feet, brandishing his sharpened ebony ax. The District 2 boy cut deep into Quiver's leg, causing him actual pain. Vox retaliated by slicing open Scorpio's knee cap. Both boys stumbled back, wincing in pain. Larah, who was still unscathed went in for kill, two throwing knives at the ready. As she was about to stab him, Quiver pulled out a bottle of battery acid and poured the splashed the contents in Larah's face and as she turned away, stuffed something in her pack, which was slightly unzipped.

"You motherfucker!" Larah cried out, feeling her skin disintegrate give inthe liquid.

While Scorpio was preocupied watching his teammate get her face burned off, Santos took out his trident, extending it to its full length. He tossed it with great strength into Scorpio's chest. Scorpio was sent back, a wide look in his eyes. As blood pooled in his lungs, he thought about the young tributes who had died, like Lynna,amd how unjust their lives were. Ever since he volunteered, he's had images of how he might die, but he didn't actually think it would happen. He wanted to win. Was there really a winner in the Games, anyways? That was Scorpio's final thought as his cannon fired.

"Scorpio?" Larah screeched. "I'm going to make all of you pay!"

"Five," Quiver responded.

"You monster!" Larah cried, trying to flush away the acid with the bottle of the water

"Four."

"Will you shut up?!"

"Three."

"Who the fuck throws acid, anyway?!"

"Two."

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

"One."

"Stop counting you fucking deranged pyschopath!"

Quiver ducked behind one of the pedestals and catching on to the boy's cue, Santos did the same. Larah screamed out in agony, which seemed to prompt the time bomb Vox had planted on her. The entire area was covered in bits of Larah and Quiver swore one of her sharpened fingernails landed in his lap. He smiled, remembering that there was only one tribute left, something which Santos cringed at, knowing it was Quiver. Larah's cannon fired promptly, echoing throughout the arena, mirroring how empty her life was.

Starting to flip, Santos hopped and back flipped over towards Quiver, who simply pulled out his sheet of needles and slid it across the floor in front of him.  Santos landed hands first on the upright needles, screeching immediately and falling to the ground.  His hands bled profusely as dozens of tiny holes leaked blood.  He wretched the sheet out to find the needles were stuck in his hands, with no time to pull each individual one out.  It seemed he couldn’t flip any more, painlessly at least.  

Santos rushed in and tried to stab Quiver with the trident, but Quiver knew he had chosen a titanium sword for just this reason.  The grindstone-sharpened ebony blade was swung down, aiming for the prongs of the trident and catching it between two of them.  Quiver then took the titanium sword and chopped off the trident head.  Santos still stabbed forward, catching Quiver in the stomach as a wound opened up.  Quiver knew he had to finish quickly before he bled out, and aimed to end the games now.  Santos had his brass knuckles but little else as Quiver was still well stocked.  Quiver had his own bladed knuckles which he used to cut at the already injured hands of Santos.  Cries of anguish left his mouth before Quiver went all out, using every last weapon he had against the skillful tribute. 

He jabbed the titanium knife through his foot and pinned it to the ground before hacking off his other leg with his two axes.  Quiver rushed around and circled Santos, pressing weapon after weapon into his torso and back, changing direction as the pinned tribute swiped with his fists.  Quiver hacked the axe into his back, and the second into his hip, then placed the steel sword through his abdomen and poked it out of his pack.  He stabbed each sword through Santos’s shoulders, stabbing straight down into his lungs.  The boy gasped for air and writhed, only pushing around the weapons embedded into him before Quiver took off his gloves and shoes, stabbing them into Santos’s neck.  The boy was doomed, having no means of recovering from the onslaught of weapons that stuck through him and poured blood out.  It was then that Quiver, still controlled by Vox, held the awl in one hand and his pack in the other.  Emptying the contents, Quiver shoved the bag over Santos’s head to hide his identity, then stopped.  Vox tore the welder’s mask off his face and stared down at the bloodied tribute.  

Quiver spotted the bleeding tribute in horror, unsure how he got to this.  He thought Vox was going to take care of all the tributes but it seemed that he was toying with Quiver for the end.  

You have to be the one to end it, you know.  Otherwise you don’t deserve to win.

Quiver shuddered at the voice in his head.  He had never heard it before but it seemed Vox wanted Quiver to prove he was brave after all.  Understanding that Vox was latin for Voice, Quiver knew he was right.  At least he had hidden the identity of the practically dead tribute for his sake.  Quiver took a breath and screamed as he plunged the awl through Santos’s face, signalling his cannon.  He looked to the sky, seeing the roof of the mill split open and a ladder for him to be brought to safety.  

"The Victor of the Thirty-Ninth Annual Hunger Games, Quiver Capuldi of District Ten!"

On the trip back, Quiver couldn’t help but try to contact Vox again.  

Thank you, without you I wouldn’t have survived.  

There was no answer.

Vox?

The alliance of Larah Alessia and Scorpio Varro had spent the night of the third day in the arena, and a large portion of the third day, resting so as not to further exert themselves. Scorpio used his healing salve to heal the wounds on his feet and his bloody stump of an arm, while Larah lied down on the cool metal of the conveyor belts. They mainly talked strategy, deciding who would attack who in the final battle. No matter how much both of them wanted to be crowned victor, neither wanted to end up facing off with the other. Larah had decided to rummage through their feast bags after some time, pleased to find both weapons and food and water. She, along with her ally and district partner, consumed copious amounts of the refreshing water and nibbled on the fresh loaves of bread.

“Should we divide up the weapons?” Scorpio asked Larah, eager to get his hands on some new supplies.

Larah hesitated for just a moment, but soon responded with, “Sure, that actually isn’t a bad idea. Well, coming from you anyway.”

“Ha ha,” Scorpio retorted, no longer focused on the crown, but on the friendly banter between him and his ally.

Larah arranged the weapons from each pack out in front of her. The knives and sword called to her. After training with them back in District Two, she had grown to become quite familiar with how to wield them. Scorpio, on the other hand, found that he wanted to use the taser and pickaxe. Without an exchange of words, or even looks, Larah reached out for the knives and sword, while Scorpio did for the taser and pickaxe.

Organizing their respective arsenals for the remainder of the day, the two tributes wondered when the battle would finally commence. Their thoughts were answered when the machinery surrounding them vanished into the ground, replaced by large metal walls that were closing in on them.

“Run!” Scorpio shouted, prompting Larah to grab her things and sprint to the cornucopia, her ally on her tail. There, they clutched their weapons, ready to take down Quiver and Santos.

~

The night before the final battle, Santos had slept relatively well. Unlike the other tributes, he didn’t have many preparations. He tended to his shoulder wound and examined the contents of his feast packs, pleased to find a pair of brass knuckles and a trident. While he wasn’t familiar with the pronged weapon, he still felt as if he would be able to do some real damage with it in the finale. Equipping himself with the weapons, Santos replenished the energy he had lost over the course of multiple days in the arena, consuming food and water. Afterwards, he popped some morphling tablets and stretched his limbs, ready to be his nimble self.

When the walls began to close in, Santos did a series of flips and cartwheels to reach the cornucopia, undoubtedly impressing the audience. There he stood, muttering curses under his breath as he eyed his remaining three competitors.

~ On the final day of the Thirty-Ninth Annual Hunger Games, Quiver Capuldi awoke, dazed and confused. His hands were caked with dried, smeared blood. The odd thing was, no bodies were in sight. It took him but a moment to realize who the wrongdoer was; Vox. He managed a smile, realizing that Vox was actually trying to protect him for once. While he was still on edge, Quiver knew that he had to follow through with his preparations if he intended to be crowned victor. Upon receiving a time bomb from sponsors, he secured the explosive to his back. Having also been awarded six batteries, he chopped open the batteries with his axe, pouring the acid from it inside of his water bottle. Using the needles he received at the feast and the parachute from his sponsorship gift, he made a sheet of fabric from which needles stuck upwards. After making an awl from his cattle brand, Quiver ate food and drank water. His last preparation was attaching various supplies to his back.

It was about half an hour before the feast started and the sponsors felt like it was time to aid their remaining tributes as much as possible, to get them onward to the next day. Arionna received a upper chainmail torso armor, two gallons of water, and a couple of whips. Scorpio received some healing salve for his arm and feet, food, water, as well as a sword. Larah, too, got sponsored. She received a bow with six arrows. Elysia got a whip too, but one with a little extra kick. The alliance was hanging on by its fingernails. Both Larah and Lynna had broken their ribs and were toughing through the pain. Lynna's bruised throat was about twice its size and she was unconscious. Larah's hip shot pain trough her entire body, which intermingled with her rib pain. Scorpio's severed arm was a league all its own. With that and his feet, it was all he could do to keep from crying out. The District 2 tributes looked in envy as Arionna escaped with only a cheek wound and Elysia with no wound at all. They couldn't help but feel like they were being used as their scapegoats while they got all the glory. That all could change with the feast.

"Here's the plan," Arionna spoke up as she wrapped up some of Scorpio's arm. She help up her sponsor water, "We empty these bottles, we can store them or whatever, so we can use them to hide underwater while the rest go to the Feast. You know, to be safe from the automatons."

Larah spoke up, her breathing heavy, "So, who gets to use them? Because if you haven't noticed, Scorpio and I are unconscious and the District Twelve bitch is passed out."

"Scorpio and Elysia," Arionna informed her.

"I get Scorpio, but why her?" Larah shouted in a hushed tone, an unsettling pain settling throughout her torso.

"Elysia saved you yesterday, remember?" Arionna said, getting a bit flustered. "I think she deserves it."

"Saved me? I'm the one who fought the damn thing!" Larah was getting angry, digging her pointed nails digging into her palms. "She just happened to fall in the water with it!"

"Enough," Arionna demanded. "My decision is final. You can deal with it or the alliance can kill you right now, if you don't agree to our terms and conditions!"

Larah gritted her teeth and finally spat out, "Fine."

Larah glanced ever so slightly at Scorpio and he nodded, signing an unspoken agreement between them. Then, they get to work preparing their plan, as the remaining tributes do the same in the arena. The Feast was not long due, and the tension throughout the air was about as tangible as the heat that pulsed through the arena. The stakes were high, but it seemed about every tribute was in the mood to make a gamble.

~

It was now about a minute before the feast was to start and the tributes hung around in the dark, crouching down so their shoes wouldn't be visible to their competitors. The air was practically silent, save for the bubbling of the molten river and the various humming of the conveyer belts. A faint light glowed over the Cornucopia, the sparkle of the gold captivating in the dim steel mill. In the middle of the ring of platforms, a circular silver table rose from a hole in the metal plating. About twenty or so other holes show up across the stretch, but the tributes paid no mind to them as the bags shine brilliantly, like a glimmer of hope. A loud siren-like noise echoed through the arena, signaling the start of the Feast and the guaranteed death of a handful of tributes.

Sagitarria and Santos took the initiative and ran toward their bags. Santos was about the same speed as the girl, but as they were about to pass the threshold of the platforms, Santos hung back, remembering the District 2 boy from the previous year's Game getting impaled by a large spike. He'd risk Sagitarria stealing his pack before he'd die like that. However, it was not a spike that would greet Sagitarria at the Cornucopia, it was an uproar of steam wherever she stepped. The boiling vapor seemed to tear off her skin. Her screams could be heard across the arena as her skin fell off her body in clumps. She tried to run, but the steam prevented her from moving too much. She finally reached the platforms where she entered, her green eyes filled with agony as she looked upon the District 6 boy. The light that had filled her eyes with pride during the reaping, now dimmed as her body went slack over the platforms, a cannon fire signifying the end of her fight. Santos, although his prior hatred toward the Careers was strong, now found pity in his heart. The real question was: how was he supposed to get over there?

He felt a cramp in his stomach, silently hoping he wouldn't cramp up or vomit as the others came into play. Quiver, or rather his alter ego, Vox, ran from the east, brandishing another set of weapons, this time, they were made from Ebony. He wore a protective welder's mask as well as a pair of thick gloves. He stayed beyond the boundary of the table, while Santos stood on them. In the wings, Arionna and Lynna were approaching cautiously, their knives displayed openly. Santos suddenly felt very out of place, with no weapon to call his own. He could only imagine how things were going to go from there.

~

Back at the Alliance camp, Scorpio and Elysia were supposed to getting underwater for the moment, but there was something up. The two tributes didn't truly seem to trust one another. Neither were to get in the water, with the fear the other might try and drown them. Elysia was focused on the battle that was about to unfold while Scorpio stood behind her grimacing. Pain surged through his body and the look Larah gave him echoed through his mind. He smirked, deciding to go through with it. He got his sword ready and called Elysia over to him.

"Hey, Elysia, can you change my wrapping?" Scorpio asked deviously.

"Yeah, is-" Elysia started, but was cut off by a blow to her temple by the the blunt end of Scorpio's sword.

She slumped to the floor beside of Lynna, who was on her death bed as it was. With little compassion, he slammed the blade into her skull, splitting one of her eyes in two. A cannon fired, signaling her death. He slit Lynna's throat, relieving her of her agony. Her cannon, too, fired. Three cannons in the span of two minutes. Scorpio hoped Larah could follow her end of their agreement and take out both Quiver and Arionna as he looted the girl of her electric whip. He wiped his sword clean and retreated to the water, where he would hide if Larah failed.

~

Larah watched as Santos hopped from one of the platforms and onto the table with relative grace, avoiding the steaming holes that murdered his temporary ally. Quiver/Vox smiled under his mask, blood lust taking over his sanity as he readied an ebony knife. Santos steadied himself on the table, looping his silver one over his shoulders. He dropped Sagitarria's cautiously onto ground, testing to see if it would still steam. When it was clear, he rolled off the table just as Vox threw his knife.It sank deep into the boy's shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain as he ran away into the maze once again with his own and Sagitarria's pack. 

Larah watched as Arionna charged foolishly into battle with the psychopath, her only line of defense the knife that Quiver threw at her the other day and Larah. Too bad for her, that only one of those things was working to her advantage. Larah followed her, but at a safer distance. Vox wasted no time digging his weaponized gloves into the girl's armor, which proved effective for the girl. She jammed his titanium knife into his own arm, causing him to drop her. He cursed, using his free hand to pull out a purely black ax. he quickly jabbed her unexposed region with the knife glove, pulling out some of her entrails while he was at it. He twirled the ax around a couple of times before burying it into her neck, leaving her head dangling by a thin piece of skin. Her cannon fired into the afternoon, music to both his and Larah's ears. Larah tossed a knife into the boy's clavicle before heading for the table, where it was proven to be safe. She grabbed the bags of her allies, save Arionna's because Vox grazed her with a knife that she through, and headed off to her camp, where her district partner awaited her arrival.

Larah

Sagitarria

So the hunt begins…Three of the tributes out of the previous eleven are now deceased and seven more need to bite the dust before a crown can be awarded to one of you little darlings. It's time for things to get up close and personal.

We’re having a Feast!

Each of you will be getting a special goodie bag containing:

Food

Water

An advanced medical set (complete with healing salves, burn oinments, gauze, morphling tablets and so much more.)

An actual weapon, up to my discretion on which it is.

 Now, it’s your choice to come or not, but you know, it doesn’t hurt to try. Well, it might but what’s the point of a reward with no risk? I’ll tell you: nothing. In this game, it’s risk it all or gain nothing. And if you risk nothing, in abundance you will receive.

Here’s what you need to know:

The Feast:

My character, HGM Matt, will announce the feast over the arena PA at about 2 pm that day. It will start an hour later.

It will be located at the Cornucopia, where a circular silver table will be set up. It will be set in a clock-like formation in coordination with the remaining districts. I.E. Lynna's bag will be facing the mouth of the horn, Sagitarria’s will be facing the east exit, Arionna’s to the west, and Santos’ facing the south.

The District 2 bags are neon blue.

The District 4 bag is neon yellow.

The District 5 bag is neon pink.

The District 6 bag is an illuminated silver.

The District 8 bag is a bright purple.

The District 10 bag is neon orange.

The District 12 bag is white.

The Competitors:

Total: 8

Male: 3

Female:5

District pairs remaining: 1 pair

Injuries:

Larah: Hip wound, broken ribs (front), various bruises

Scorpio: Glass embedded in foot, severed arm

Sagitarria: None

Elysia: None

Santos: Withdrawal

Arionna: Slit cheek

Quiver: None

Lynna: Bruised throat and trachea, broken ribs (back)

Continue this task like you did the Day 2 one, but Feast Style and in third person, as always.

This Task will be due Wednesday, February 5th at 10 pm EST

~May the odds be ever in your favor~

"It's so fucking hot," Santos complained to himself, low-voiced, as he jumped from belt to belt.

He had been entertaining himself and the citizens of the Capitol all throughout the day by doing handstands, cartwheels, and flips across the belts as he journeyed through them. Now, he could feel the effects of morphling withdrawals aching through his bones. He longed for the drug, but he had been clean since he came to the Capitol. Midnight, Muse, and Tesla had forced both he and Cora off of it. He knew that if he survived this he would come back extremely changed, and probably even more morphling dependent than ever. That thought alone was hard to accept and it made him grimace; he still had to feel the effects of his morphine withdrawal, which he expected to continue within the next day or two. 

Santos jumped off one of the belts, landing in one of the many open spaces near the back of the maze. There, he hid under the shadows of the machinery, setting down his supplies in order to peel off his shirt. He used the tank top as  a makeshift sack. He didn't really mind that Panem could see his tattooed jaguar spots. He figured it was a defining feature and would help pool some sponsors his way and hopefully become a favorite.

"Go away," He heard someone whisper from beneath one of the belts. "I don't want to kill you."

He could faintly make out the tribute by the glow of their shoes as well as his own. It was the District 4 girl, Sagitarria. She held a wooden sword in her hands, poised to kill the boy. Her blonde curls were in a disarray and she had dark rings under her eyes. She seemed to be pretty shaken up by the death of her district partner, as Santos had first been.

"Likewise," Santos, getting into a defensive position.

They heard two very familiar yet robotic laughs that bounced amongst the whirring of the machines. It was Cora and Jason, the two's respective partners. They each had a pair of red glowing eyes and were no longer dismembered. They stood on one of the belts that was perfectly still. They spoke in unison, "Funny, because we want to kill you!"

The two jumped from where they were standing, each raising their fists in offense. Santos and Sagitarria looked at one another, forming a temporary truce against the automatons. Sagitarria rose to meet Santos, her back to his, her sword raised. No matter how much her brain told her that these were robots, her eyes told her otherwise. Nevertheless, she was prepared to face her demons and the problems in front of her.

"Did you see the control panel back at the edge?" Santos whispered to her.

"Yeah," Sagitarria confirmed.

He breathed out slowly, "While I keep these two busy, I'm going to need you to press the button when I tell you to, okay?"

Sagitarria thought the boy was demented, but she agreed, "Okay."

"Go whenever I start to run." Santos ordered.

Santos ran towards the two automatons, but instead of tackling or punching them, he put one hand on each of their shoulders and hoisted himself over onto one of the belts. He smirked and gave her the confirmation to get to the panel.

Sagitarria did such as she ducked under the belts. She looked to see if either of the bots were following her, but found her trail surprisingly empty. She saw the District 6 boy on the conveyer belts, with their district partners swinging punches at him. He danced around them gracefully, keeping them at bay. Sagitarria climbed up one of the belts and found herself at the end of the arena. She opened up the door, the hinges creaking terribly. There were a myriad of buttons, many the same color, but of various sizes. She looked back at Santos, who was still dancing around the automatons.

Santos found himself between the two previously deceased tributes, his head pounding. Each one was staring at him coldy with their burning red eyes. Santos watched as they prepared to charge, their fists balled at their sides, ready to tear him to pieces. The belt Santos was on still, while the belts the other two were on led in the opposite directions, requiring them to walk at a certain pace to keep from being sent away. Santos knew it was no or never, so he yelled with all his might, "Now, Sagitarria!"

Sagitarria panicked and began hitting all of the buttons she could see, hoping she wouldn't get the boy killed. The two automatons were shot forward at a breakneck pace while the belt Santos was one moved so fast to the right that it knocked him down. The two automatons clashed into each other, their bodies torn apart by the force. Santos let out a triumphant cheer, as did Sagitarria.