TERRACE Draft - Remaining Days

[lucetimods]

Who: All Draftees
What: All hell breaks loose
When: From the 27th to the 1st.
Where: TERRACE!
Summary: Information post here
Rating: Varies on thread, please mark explicit material.

This post covers the second to sixth day! Be sure to check the info post on the timeline to know what's up. At 2AM on the 27th, the attack will break out while most people are sleeping. Be sure to use the above info post for any plotting needs you might have. Enjoy!

Some random NPC quotes about the island itself.

Be sure to tag this post appropriately: [canon] character name

Comments

[shenevermisses]

Clove heard the footsteps behind her, and she couldn't shake them. She wasn't able to climb like Twelve, to vanish like the girl from Eleven. She wasn't as clever as Five had been. She wasn't even as fast as some of them. She could sprint, yes, but of even the Careers... Glimmer had been the fast one. Long legs, longer than Clove's. Not that she was slow, no. She'd been taught speed and stamina, but it didn't feel like enough, especially in an environment that wasn't forest and land. She couldn't run here like she did in the forest.

So, at some point, the flight instinct... It didn't even die. It just stopped. Maybe it coincided with her deciding to be a tribute from a Career district. If he was going to kill her... Why die running?

That's when she stops, grabs a knife from her vest and turns to throw it. This one isn't supposed to hit. It's the same as she did for Katniss in the forest, when she fired her first arrow. A warning throw. Close enough to be noticed. Controlled enough to make it clear the next one won't miss.

The next one she already has in her hand, while her other touches the large knife at her hip. One throw, maybe two, she thinks. Then a charge. Or reaction if he keeps charging. Get the knife out, go for the chest and throat.

Just like Katniss.

She steels herself, watching, her fingers adjusting their grip to be ready to throw the second knife. The fear's still in her eyes, but it's been replaced by something else. Something more dangerous. In fear for her life, she'll fight to the death for it.

[greenjacketed]

The knife whistled past him and he growled an oath. What the bloody hell was the girl doing? Now was not the time to fight amongst themselves, even if he could empathize with the position he'd now put her in. The confrontation had been abandoned prematurely in the face of enemy encroachment, and now he had to either chase her down or live with the guilt of letting her bugger off on her own.

Guilt? Would he feel guilt? He was surprised that his gut answered with a resounding yes. And that yes drove him forward in spite of the knife's controlled warning.

"Clove, for Christ's sake," he hissed into the darkness with his great sword flashing. "Strength in bloody numbers, girl!"

He kept advancing.

[shenevermisses]

Kill. It was a base instinct, and Clove knew it. But it was the tribute in her. Her mouth started to open, but she clenched her teeth. No. Not again. She wouldn't scream for help, wouldn't make an idiot out of herself when no one came. Because no one would come. Not to help her, and especially not to help her against a friend of Katniss's. She'd been too honest with people here, hadn't kept with the Capitol strategy of playing nice. She'd let herself drop the act, show this place the Career mindset, and she'd pay for it.

"Take another step," she said, the growl somewhere between and mixing fear and anger, "and it's one or the other." A warning arrow for a warning knife. Another arrow to scratch her face. After that, what else could she do. And this is the same situation. Only this man won't keep quiet as long as Katniss did. Or else he'll kill her. But if he does? She'll leave her mark.

Neck. Throat. Hand with the sword. All good, viable targets. Clove clutches the knife tight. Kill or be killed. Strength in numbers -- he has the allies, she doesn't. No one will come if she screams. She's going to die here, but she's not going to make it as easy as she made it for Thresh.

[greenjacketed]

At long last, he paused. "I'd much rather a third option, lass. Let us both negotiate, eh? Fly a bloody truce flag between the two of us."

[shenevermisses]

"Yeah because those work." Her reply was cold, bitter... but maybe a little hurt. She stayed low, hand on the knife, ready to throw it. "Last just until one of us decides its inconvenient."

[greenjacketed]

"They last longer'n you think. Some of us have shreds of honour left."

[shenevermisses]

"Only last as long as it takes to get a stronger ally," Clove snapped, her eyes narrowed.

[greenjacketed]

"Don't work like that, Clove. Not where I'm from." That statement was a lie. "Not...not for me. I don't work like that." Better.

He breathed in a deep, crisp lungful of air. "The stronger ally ain't the one who gallivants alone. The stronger ally is the one who bloody well learns to cooperate with others."

[shenevermisses]

"I don't want allies." Clove's eyes narrowed, but she held tears at bay. Anger, hurt, fear. All of it was welling deep, and she didn't know what to do with it. She wanted to kill, but that would get her killed. "I don't trust anyone, and no one should trust me. Did that, didn't work, not doing it again." Her hand shifted on her knife, reminding herself it was there.

"So keep your distance. Or I'll kill you. Or die trying."

[greenjacketed]

"...You won't be able to kill me, lass. And I'm choosing not to kill you."

He wasn't puffed up. He wasn't proud. Merely certain. "But I would like to kill the bastards who are soon to descend upon us."

[shenevermisses]

"Then do it," Clove muttered as she took a step back, ready to run again. "I'm not sticking around."

She wasn't going to risk her life for someone who wasn't even an ally. Even for an ally, she wouldn't. And she didn't trust him at her back.