ignaciuskauri-blog-blog

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Congratulations Ignacius! Your gamemakers voted you for the “Most Dedicated Writer” in the game.

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ignacius…

district : seven

private training : eight

kills : zero

weapon : axe / chainsaw

theme song : stressed out by twenty one pilots

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After the slaughter that was the third day of the arena, faces and slips of death play in the stormy skies with the daunting anthem echoing around the arena.

13th - Clovis Costello, killed by Juno Woon.

12th - Ignacius Kauri, killed by Hilarian Delacroix.

11th - Juno Woon, killed by Hilarian Delacroix.

10th - Kendall Carter, killed by Lola Liu.

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THANK YOU EVERYONE <3

This was a great introduction into hgrp. Everyone was so great and awesome and helpful. You put up with me clogging the dash full of pics and text posts, as well as my train of never-ending questions. Everyone was a gift from the high heavens and made this past month really great. I hope that you enjoyed getting to know Ig just as much as I enjoyed-and will continue to enjoy-learning about everyone’s tributes. I had a lot of fun with this, and it will definitely hold a place in my memory as a highlight in my life. That said, some moments in particular did stand out at me, as well as people:

Rob, thanks for taking up my crazy idea to poison and paralyze Ig. It added a lot of depth and delved into our tributes more in way we couldn’t have imagined doing otherwise.

Cleo, thank you for partnering up with me in the arena. Even though it wasn’t for long, it was fun.

Oz, thank you for putting up with my massacre of the deer. And my questions. And for thinking of the Ig and Juno alliance name (Iguano).

Mary, thank you for putting up with all of my late night texts and questions and for introducing me to this hgrp.

Sienna, thank you for introducing me to this rp and for being a star. Deep throat will remain scarred in my mind.

Isabel, thank you for introducing me to this rp and killing Ig. I’m glad that he was taken down by an honorable tribute. That said, I obviously would have preferred if you hadn’t killed him.

Robyn, thank you for giving me advice throughout the rp.

Riley, thank you for supporting the dream relationship , and for making up deersigner handbags as a term.

Kris, thank you for making me glad that all I had to fight was demon deer.

Kayla, thank you for being the best non-player in acp. I think you were more dedicated than some of us were.

Austin, thank you for being hilarious, and calling Ig “Tree”. You were the only one to not call him Iguana. And I won’t forget the glacier throwing.

Kaylan, thank you for making the best ks of all time. And for being a wonderful artist and drawing those parade outfits.

Meigan, thank you for being wonderful and writing the best punishment for Pearl.

Yasmine, thank you for making Parker remember Ig. He will live on in the heart of at least one.

My favorite moments in the game, involving Ignacius, were:

The deer massacre, and the backlash from it.

Poisons and antidotes on day two of training.

The ks. Not that I died, but it was still a great experience writing it.

Bloody hell.

The best friend os.

The rooftop talk with Parker.

The pt.

My favorite moments in the game, not involving Ignacius (so far) are:

The Jared and Charlie kiss.

The Jared and Everest kiss.

Severed.

Rat and the glass coffin.

Shannon.

The glowing lagoons.

Dragon.

As well, I hope I didn’t offend anyone with Ig’s pt. If I did, I am so so very sorry. That was not my intent, and if I hurt you than I feel deep regret over it.

I hope that my writing didn’t suck too bad, and that my pics weren’t too ugly. It was my first go around, and I was still figuring out how everything worked. I hoped that everyone I had a para with enjoyed writing with me as much as I did with them.

Honestly, just thank you all for being so wonderful and letting me learn the ropes as I worked my way through the games. It was a great few weeks, and I know that I’ll remember Ig for a long time. As well as all of the other tributes and characters from acp. I loved being able to see the art that everyone created in this rp, and I hope that you gained some enjoyment from reading mine. Thank you all so much for being the wonderful human beings you are.

Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again.

I’ll treasure this little month of fun forever. You all probably didn’t know this, but you helped me get through a hard time with all of your jokes and stories and encouraging comments. You stopped me from harming myself in more ways than just emotionally, and I was able to sleep a little bit better this month. I think it was the sense of being able to have a group of people as passionate and dedicated to something as you are. Thank you all so much.

You’ve literally changed my life for the better.

And I know this is long, but I just needed to get it off my chest. I didn’t want to walk away from this with you guys not knowing how much this meant to me. Thank you.

And, whatever, this might be cliche or sappy or whatever shit you might want to call it. It’s all real to me, and I want you all to know it. So take it as you will, but in its purest form this is a giant thank you to you all.

Sarah

“Maybe it’s sad that these are now memories. And maybe it’s not sad.” -The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

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Private Training~Ignacius Kauri

Ignacius awoke to a feeling of dread. Today was private training, and although he had figured out what to do, he wasn’t looking forward to it. At least it wouldn’t hurt anyone but himself.

The night before he had met up Marcus to ask him to tattoo something else on his body that was crucial to his plans working correctly in the training center. Marcus had done as he asked, but he was also concerned with Ignacius’s eyes, for it was the first time that he had seen him since the whole incident had occurred between him and Pearl on day two of training. By appearance they were a bit cloudy, and he was partially blinded, but he wouldn’t let it get him down. Even without perfect vision he was sure he could still survive.

Making his way down to the outside of the training center, he joined the waiting tributes, anxious for when his turn would show up. Overall, today he felt the best since the incident on day two. The pain was all but gone from his body and he wasn’t having problems with his balance or having uncontrollable muscle spasms. His head was clear, and he ran through his plan for the hundredth time.

One by one the other tributes left the area where they were waiting and went into the training center for their private training with the gamemakers and the president. He jiggled his bad leg anxiously, wondering how they would react to his presentation. The only two things he was really good at were first aid and melee weapons. And his combination of the two would be interesting, to say the least.

Before long, he saw the girl for District Six-her name was Kendall-leave the training center and he stood up and walked into the training center with a straight back. Looking up at the high balcony, he made eye contact with each of the three adults before starting the countdown in his head. He had fifteen minutes to impress them. And it wasn’t going to be easy.

Walking over to the first aid table, he grabbed a pair of scissors and cut a square out of his pants, revealing his old scar and the x that was now tattooed around it. He took a second to collect himself, remembering why he was doing what he had planned. He didn’t want to hurt anyone in order to demonstrate his first aid skills, and it would show them how resilient he was.

Turning to the peacekeeper nearest to him, he said one simple phrase,

“Shoot me in the leg; right at the heart of the x.”

He saw the peacekeeper hesitate for a moment, not immediately pulling out a gun to do what he said.

“C’mon, we’re wasting time here.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to back down, the peacekeeper brought his gun up and in one fluid motion shot him. The force of the bullet was enough to make him stumble, but only slightly. Sure, it hurt, but he had gone through much worse in the past few days, not to mention the first time he had been shot.

Two minutes down.

Grinding his teeth, he limped over to the rack of axes and dragged them to the middle of the room. Grabbing the mannequins, he lined them up in a line parallel to the balcony, and picked up the first axe, readying himself for what he was about to do.

Two more minutes were gone from him because of his little act of setting up the stage. To demonstrate his melee skills, he wanted to showcase his efficiency and ability to hit with spot on accuracy in more than just a few more places. And he wanted to show that if he was going to harm someone, it would be because of a reason, a flaw in their character or something they had done against him. He didn’t like senseless violence, and would only partake in it if there was no other way. And then he would do it his way.

Placing himself in front of the first mannequin on the left at the end of the row, he found that place where he could be numb, and get through what he was about to do without breaking down. He reminded himself that they weren’t real. They were just pawns in his game. He cleared his throat and began.

“Charles Harrington. Denial.” The axe moved swiftly through the head, through the mouth, cutting it off completely. The blood began pouring from his head, but Ignacius ignored it. He had to keep going, or else he wouldn’t make it. Dropping the axe, he reached for another one. If he was going to harm multiple things, he wasn’t going to bring himself low enough as to use the same instrument for more than one murder. It would be like saying that the two things were no different for each other, and were identical twins. Which they weren’t. If somebody had to be harmed, there was a unique reason for it to happen.

“Juno Woon. Fear.” The mannequin feel to the floor after the axe cut its way through both of its knees, leaving only bloody stumps standing. It wasn’t like he didn’t know everyone was scared of death. It was just something that everyone ignored until it was too late. This act of harming the mannequins did not become easier for him, but that of reaching for a fresh axe while letting another fall to the floor was.

“Everest McKinley. Ignorance.” Similar to the first, a part of the head fell to the floor. It was much smaller though, since the axe had gone straight through the brains. He felt a twinge of guilt as the nickname of “Tree” came to mind. He ignored it. Felt some of the fake blood on his shirt. Or was it fake? It smelled like iron. Like a machine dropped the old axe and grabbed a fresh one, moving on.

“Seraph Sinclair. Disabled.” Blood sprayed some of the mannequins towards the right that he hadn’t been to yet while the left arm fell to the floor in a fluid motion. He felt bad about the reason he gave for his violence to her. She wasn’t the only one here who was disabled in some way. She was just the one that was the most easy to pick up on with the naked eye. Reloaded his axe. Moved on.

“Shepard Gaspinadov. Cautious.” More blood splashed onto the Seraph mannequin, drawing even more attention to the area where the left arm had once been. The right wrist fell to the blood and bounced to Ignacius’s feet. He stepped away from it. Being cautious wasn’t a bad thing, but one had to known how to react in the spur of the moment as well. Reload. Move on.

“Lola Liu. Cancerous.” Blood hit Ignacius in the chest following the swift strike through the chest to the voice box, rendering the axe lodged in the mannequin. Her words brought others down, and he wasn’t okay with someone that tried to make others feel bad about the way someone was living their life. That was why he had left his family after all. Reload. Move on.

“Dory Murdock. Oblivious.” Two swift strikes. The lungs were punctured and Ignacius watched as blood ran down, puddling around the mannequin's feet. Dory only cared about himself and didn’t do anything beneficial for anyone else. Which caused him to miss crucial things happening all around him. And that wasn’t how you made the world a better place. Reload. Move on.

“Tillie Hull. Unforgiving.” The sound of the axe hitting the mannequin was halted as Ignacius stopped the strike halfway through his hit. He kept the axe lodged in the skull, where the eye sockets usually were. Her gaze was always filled with venom for those around her, and she wasn’t able to forget the past and keep moving towards the future. And if one can’t keep moving forward, they can have no hope of finding peace in their life. Reload. Move on.

“Jared Luminel. Narcissistic.” The familiar thunk of a mannequin hitting the ground accompanied the strike of the axe. The stumps stood, similar to Juno’s but much smaller, as only the feet remained. It was a dangerous thing to put one up on a pedestal before checking to see if you deserved to be there, and ignoring all evidence that suggested you weren’t as perfect as you like to believe. Reload. Move on.

“Enna Christensen. Lackadaisical.” Legs became separated from torso as the top half of the mannequin fell to the ground. She hadn’t even cared enough to come to training in order to make sure that she had better chances in the arena. It was sad to see people abandon perfectly good opportunities to improve themselves and their lives. Didn’t they see it would make them better off for the future? Reload. Move on.

“Alu Cinatio. Variegated.” In one motion, Ignacius brought the axe down, and from the top of the head to the feet split the mannequin in half vertically. It fell to the ground and, luckily missed the remaining mannequins so they wouldn’t fall over. His vision blanked out for a moment, and he ignored it, allowing himself to move onwards. He had to keep going. After all, it was okay to show the world only parts of yourself, but you can’t reveal part of yourself and then pretend like people don’t know or care about it. Reload. Move on.

“Kendall Carter. Coward.” Two small swings ensured that the achilles’ tendon was completely ripped apart. The mannequin wobbled, but didn’t fall down. Which was good. You couldn’t always run away from your problems, and sometimes you had stand up to whatever had wronged you in the past. You also couldn’t avoid training and expect that it would simply make the arena go away. Reload. Move on.

“Emily Graham. Unfiltered.” Again, a duo of swings were exact in precision, causing two ears to fall to the ground without causing the shoulders of the mannequin to spit blood. Although one could be as smart and pay attention to what was happening in their environment, it didn’t mean anything if they paid to listen a bit and learn what to say. The best way to avoid conflict is to make sure you don’t offend the people around you. Reload. Move on.

“Ratsis Montgomery. Convolved.” Ignacius sliced open the stomach of the mannequin, watching some of the fake intestines spill onto the ground. Rat was twisted around just like them. His jokes would contradict his statements, his movements contradict his facial expressions. He wondered what Rat was hiding that required so much effort in order to please almost everyone around you. Reload. Move on.

“Pearl Rosier. Poison.” A head bounced off the wall of the balcony, smearing it with blood. The axe had easily cut through at the neck, at the exact place where Pearl had stabbed him with the needles both times. She wilted everything she touched, and if there was one tribute Ignacius wanted to harm in the arena it was her. What had made her so cruel? Reload. Move on.

“Clovis Costello. Hallucinatory.” In a similar fashion to Alu’s mannequin, Ignacius tore his way through the mannequin, separating it in half horizontally. He grabbed the right side of the mannequin’s body and leaned it against Pearl’s headless mannequin so only on part of the body fell to the ground. Clovis seemed like he wasn’t there all the time, like he was floating through life, waiting for some future moment that would make everything better. He conformed his words to your statements, almost like you incented him yourself. Reload. Move on.

“Pé Ruboi. Isolation.” In four swift strikes Ignacius removed all of the limbs from the mannequin. The amount of blood coming from the mannequin covered his shoes, filling them with the liquid. From the moment Ignacius had seen her reaping, he had known had separated she was from everything. Even if you don’t like society the way it is, you have to put up with it to give as many people a chance as possible. Reload. Move on.

“Parker Yim. Day dreams.” He cut off the nose of the mannequin cleanly. He stopped the axe from hitting any other face features, and a small bit of blood landed in Ignacius’s mouth. At the reaping he had been slightly, distracted from the world around him. Ignacius had seen him around the training center in a daze. It was almost as if he was living in other world that didn’t involve death. Sometimes you just needed to wake up and smell the roses. Reload. Move on.

“Kyla Every. Algid.” In one motion Ignacius turned the mannequin around and cut through the spinal cord of the mannequin. It only made sense to have one of the parts of the body with the most nerve endings in it be severed in the mannequin for Kyla was cold. Sure, she had been kind in conversation, but unless you prompted her she was silent. Sure, it might have been because of her past but everyone had their own drama. Their own tragedies. You had to keep moving forward. Ignacius felt his numbness break for a second, and he struggled to regain it. Though they were just mannequins, they represented real people. And most of them had never done anything against him. He became a machine again as he reloaded and moved on.

“Nico Boateng. Betrayed.” Chop. Chop. No hands means he couldn’t get caught red-handed anymore. Not that he was ever the one who had done anything as far as Ignacius knew. He had seen the look on his face when he was reaped. As if someone had taken the world out from under him. He was simply the one holding the smoking gun at the end of the day. Reload. Move on.

“Apricot Thompson. Psycho.” The axe went clear through the mannequin, so far that part of the blade was sticking out of the back. It had gone straight through the heart. Even since she had jumped up and been excited at the reaping to her exuberant bits of training Ignacius had seen around the center he was certain that she was insane. She wouldn’t hesitate to kill. Unpredictability had to be kept in check for things to stay in order. Get too crazy and you might have a heart attack. Reload. Move on.

“Hilarian Delacroix. Drugged.” Swipe. Swipe. Two forearms clunked to the floor, chopped off at the point of emission where most druggies chose to insert the liquid concentrations into their veins. Lars, with his dark circles, his drug detox, his love of fighting. He dulled the world around him and found the thrill when he was most close to death. A love of disorder could never produce anything positive for the world. Reload. Move on.

“Tobias Ether. Bitter.” Ignacius used his axe like a sculpting brush, cutting a slit where all of the ribs would have been in a human on the mannequin. Seeing her at the reaping, he detected her hardness towards the Capitol. Her anger at the way society was run in Panem. But it doesn’t help to preach something and then not do anything about it. Then you’re nothing better than a snake. Ignacius reached to reload, and realized with a start that he had come to the end of his demonstration of his melee skills, and his defenses began to come down and he started to realize that he had just harmed twenty-three people. Sure, the actual things that he had cut up weren’t people, but the feelings he had put behind each swing were. He was disgusted with the reasons he had gave himself that justified harming someone to the point where they died. But he had shown the gamemakers and the president what he had in him. But he wasn’t done yet.

With the recall of his senses came the blinding pain from his injured leg. He looked down, and couldn’t tell his own blood from that of the mannequins. Telling himself to get a grip, he limped over to the first aid station and started fixing his wound.

Eight more minutes had passed by. He had three left to put himself back together.

First he grabbed the pair of tweezers, and removed the bullet from his leg. Grabbing some gauze, he mopped up the blood around the wound, and grabbed some of the antiseptic. From there he went through the motions of fixing up the wound, trying to get it to clot as fast as possible, coming in with the antiseptic and the gauze every once in a while. Once it stopped bleeding, he patched it up before placing a bandage over it all. Standing up, he ignored the pain, not stopping to grab some of the painkillers from the table. From what he had gone through the first time he had been shot, as well as the pain from the poison, this was nothing. It was almost as if the pain was natural. Now, with the bullet removed, his leg felt as it always did-like it was protesting against the fact that his body wasn’t perfect anymore.

Thirty more seconds before his fifteen minutes were up.

Walking with a mild limp over to the center of the room (he was adjusting to the pain as time went on), his eyes locked on the bloody massacre of the mannequins before him. The blood from the twenty-three was slowly seeping to cover the floor of the room and he felt it wash over his toes as he tried to regain his numbness and act like he didn’t hate himself inside. His eyes went blind as he looked at the scene.

Tilting his head upward to where he knew the balcony was, he said one message to the gamemakers and the president,

“Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of the day.”

Ignacius’s tone had been sincere, for he really wanted them to have a good day. His eyesight returned, allowing him to see the blank faces of the adults. He had no idea what they were thinking.

Turning, he made his way out of the room, following the river of blood. Opening the doors, he stepped out into the hallway. Leaning down, he took of his blood-soaked shoes and socks, so he wouldn’t ruin the carpets on the way back to his suite. He smiled at the remaining tributes waiting outside the training center, and began his trek back to the suite. No doubt Margaret would freak and send for Marcus right away. But it was fine. He had fixed his leg up himself, and it would be fine by tomorrow. With every step he thought about the mannequins, and wondered if what he had done in there to demonstrate his first aid and melee skills was going to be worth it. He certainly hoped so. After all, he had left quite a big mess in the training center to be cleaned up.

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Keep reading

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Events of the Day: 

Sponsorship: Arriving during the events of Bloody Hell, the sponsored item goes initially unnoticed by Ignacius. Inside the spherical container is a universal antidote (in syringe form), along with a note from Ignacius’s head stylist that reads as follows: I knew it was only a matter of time before you fucked up. Have fun with the rest of your sorry life kid.

Bloody Hell: Ignacius woke up feeling sick, and was surprised to find that the paradise island had been turned into hell overnight. As he looked around, taking in Mount Doom chilling in the corner, he heard the sound of rapid hooves approaching. An army of eight demon deer-two fawns and six adults-had surrounded him, donning crimson eyes, vampire-like teeth, and cat-like claws. As Ignacius defeated one fawn and five adult deer-suffering minor injuries-he became progressively more psychologically disturbed as the deer were all projecting different vocals that sounded exactly like his dead best friend from his early childhood years. Hearing these vocals made Ignacius progressively more angry with the deer, and he let the deer know just exactly how ticked off he was with them by shouting at them. Things took a turn for the worse when the doe related to the two deer he had killed the day before showed up. He has a little sentimental chat with the deer before slaughtering her, and he is already quite shaken when the last of the demon deer-a fawn-shows up. The fawn replays the vocals that Ignacius heard the night his best friend was burned alive and he collapses to the ground as he watches the fawn burst into flames. It is a long time before he moves, and when he does he notices that he is covered in the thick black blood of the deer. Ignacius finds his sponsor item and uses it, and then makes another deersigner handbag that he feels with meat. He also harvests some more antler pieces. He begins to feel better-the antidote working it’s magic-as he watches Juno approach from the distance. 

Iguano: Still quite shaken from his encounter from the deer, Ignacius tries his hardest to look friendly to the approaching Juno despite the fact that he looks like he just crawled out of the pits of hell. When Juno reached the place where Ignacius stood, she dropped her weapons and asked if she could join him. Calling him by his old childhood nickname, Ignacius winces, recalling the recent traumatic event with the demon deer. He made his way to the ground, and let Juno know that she was okay to join him where he was at. Juno, having noticed his reaction to the nickname, questioned his dislike of the term, and filled him in on the tributes that were already dead, for, having slept through the night, Ignacius had missed the slideshow showcasing the tributes that had died. He thanked Juno for the information, and the two swapped animal meats-her giving him some snake meat, and him giving her some deer meat-before Ignacius gave Juno a very vague and stuttering explanation of why he didn’t like that nickname. Juno moved past the subject of the nickname, thanked him for the meat, suggested that they gave going. Ignacius thanked Juno-for her meat and for understanding his reluctance to talk about the subject-and agreed that they should get going. Before going however, he restocked his meat supply-making sure all the meats were well cooked and preserved-; got a nice pelt for Juno, as well as himself; got more antler pieces; and covered his exposed skin in the black blood to help cool himself down. It was then, in the early evening, that the two began walking towards the bridge he had seen the day before that led to a forested island. The two ended up not crossing into the forest, due to the sound of screams coming from it. They instead settled down near the edge of the island for the night, and quickly fell asleep, their weapons at the ready for anything that might come in the morning. 

Current Location: The edge of Hell island, near the bridge that leads into the forest. 

Injuries: The bump, bruise, and bee sting from the first day in the arena are mainly healed (healed to the point where they are not actively hurting him). Large cut down back (not deep, but long; no longer bleeding), small scratches on both of his upper arm areas (no longer bleeding), arms have a slight rock burn, “old” leg injury (no longer bleeding), and small semi-deep cut in his chest (no longer bleeding). Ignacius was sick for a short period of time at the beginning of the day, but was quickly healed by a universal antidote. 

Weapons:  Two long and sharp rocks from the bloodbath island, sponsor axe, double-sided axe from the spring’s treasure chest, and lots of antlers bits that he could stab someone-or something-with. 

Items:  Bullet that he pulled out of his leg during the war (token item), one deer head bag that contains his weapons in it, one fawn head bag and one deer head bag filled with as much cooked/smoked/preserved deer meat as they can hold, lots of antler bits that he could use for something other than stabbing, a large deer pelt, three yards of rope, snake meat, and spherical container. 

Food?: A large enough portion of deer meat to completely fill Ignacius up. (And it’s not food, but he took drugs in the form of the universal antidote.) 

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Ignacius took the snake meat that Juno offered him, sending thanks her way. The thanks were not simply for the fact that she was sharing resources with him, but also for the fact that she was willing to drop the subject of his nickname without further questions asked. Juno was able to read others very well, and seemed to always know the right thing to say. He had noticed it in training, and again now. Smiling at her, he hoped that he realized the double-meaning behind his sentiment. 

Standing up, he grabbed his supplies and looked at the massacred deer around him. He placed more deer meat on the hot ground, allowing it to at least partially cook, before he looked at the demon deer corpses around him and started harvesting some more resources from their bodies. He cut off two pelts, handing one to Juno. He quickly took off his supplies, wrap the pelt around his waist, and then reworked the rope around his waist until it was able to hold both the pelt and his three bags. Of course, everything of his was covered in a fine layer of the black blood, but it was beginning to dry, so it wouldn’t be that much more of a problem for that much longer. He got small more antler pieces, and passed the majority of them onto Juno, knowing that she would appreciate the multi-use tool that they are. Grabbing the now-smoked meat, he shoved it back into his bag, once again making it full. Ignacius then ate the sizeable portion of deer meat that he had cut earlier that had not been passed onto Juno, curbing his appetite for the time being. 

Looking around one last time, Ignacius realized just how warm it was in on the now-hellish island. Even though the blood on his person was now almost dry, he found some of the black blood that was still liquid in the battlefield and covered his bare arms, shoulders, neck, face, and any other part of exposed skin with it. It was cooling, and curbed the heat exhaustion that he was just starting to feel the beginnings of. Turning back to Juno for a moment, he smiled at her before he began walking again, towards the bridge he had seen before that led to the forest. 

“I agree. The deer on this island aren’t exactly my best friends by this point, and I don’t really see anything more here that could be useful to us. What was heaven yesterday has now become hell. There’s a bridge relatively close to here that can lead us to a different island-hopefully it’s nicer than this one.” Much of the day was already gone, and the early hints of the sun setting were just beginning to show on the afternoon sky.

Walking across the island, the two come closer to the bridge, but it becomes apparent that there are screams coming from it. The two tributes share a knowing glance, and settle down near the edge of the island for the night.  The ground isn’t as hot near the edge, and the two tributes settle down for the night. The fallen tributes are shown across the sky, and Ignacius watches it without much remorse. He didn’t really know any of the tributes that had died that well. It wasn’t long before the two fell asleep, their stuff in hand, in case they were to be jumped in the middle of the night. 

Iguano // Arena Day Two // Ignacius and Juno

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Juno had apparently noticed his reaction to what she had called him, for she made a comment about it before informing him about the various different deaths. He was surprised that Pearl was already dead, but glad, for he didn’t have to worry about her running around anymore. The smallest twinge of sadness at his district partner being dead. She had been fairly nice on the train. But other than that, he didn’t feel anything for those that had fallen. He watched as Juno began cutting up a snake next to him, and offered to share, whilst also asking if he had any. Ignacius pulled out a portion of the deer meat, as well as his sponsor ask, and began cutting it into strips. 

“I’ve got some deer meat here. It cooked overnight on this hot ground, so it’s safe to eat now. I could share some of this with you, especially since your sharing some of your snake meat with me.” He continued to cut up the meat as he spoke. “Thanks for filling me in on the fallen. Without that information, I would have just assumed we were all alive until proven otherwise. As for the nickname...” Ignacius’s words wandered off, and his eyes looked at the slaughtered deer that were behind them. His mind started wandering, and he zoned off, eyes going blank, until Juno called him back to the present. “Umm...it’s just a...well...it’s...let’s just say that...it’s basically...umm...it’s a...it’s a thing from my past...and...umm...it’s just a...uh...kind of....well...sensitive area.”

He avoided catching Juno’s eyes as he passed half of the deer meat that he had just cut up to her.

Iguano // Arena Day Two // Ignacius and Juno

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Ignacius watched as the girl greeted him, wincing when she called him Ig. It brought back the memories of what he had just been through, but he didn’t have the energy to say anything. He didn’t want anyone to know about what the demon deer had done. He watched as she put her crossbow down, and posed a question. Ignacius put down his double-sided axe and, in the process, ended up sitting on the ground. He felt a little light-headed, probably from the one hit he took to his head, but probably also because he was physically and psychologically damaged in so many different ways. He needed a chance to just stop and take in a few deep breaths. While he was doing this, he noticed that some of the black blood had made its way into his mouth, and he spit it out. Looking at Juno, he just stared at her for a few moments with blank eyes before responding.

“Same goes to you, Juno. I have no idea who is still alive or not in the arena, and it’s nice that the first person I run across is someone that I’ve talked to before. And it’s totally fine if you join.” He reached his right arm up, and winced. It was sore, not only from the injection of the universal antidote, but also from some minor injuries he had sustained during the fight. He waited, his hand in the air, for her response. He tried again to smile, and it turned out successful this time. 

Iguano // Arena Day Two // Ignacius and Juno

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Iguano // Arena Day Two // Ignacius and Juno

Watching Juno advance towards him, Ignacius made sure that his grip on the double-sided axe was loose. He didn’t want her thinking that he wanted to fight. He tried his hardest to put a smile on his face, but after what he had seen, it was impossible, so it turned into a kind-of-sad-smile-that-lets-you-know-something-is-seriously-wrong. It wasn’t long before she was standing before him, watching the black blood drip down his face. He waited to see if she would initiate the conversation. After all, he must be quite a sight to see, looking like he just crawled out of Mount Doom over there. 

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Looking around him, Ignacius drowns out the sound of blood pooling around him. Thankfully, the universal antidote had cured whatever sickness he had contracted, and he was feeling better now. In the distance, he spots another tribute running towards him. He hopes that they don’t want to fight. Ignacius still felt pretty drained from his fight from the demon deer, and couldn’t face the thought of hurting anyone else...especially after what the fawn had recreated in front of him. As the approaching figure gets closer, Ignacius makes out that it is a girl. It’s Juno. The girl that he had met in the melee station in the training center. He watches as she gets closer to him. 

Bloody Hell // Arena Day Two // Ignacius Kauri

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Bloody Hell // Arena Day Two // Ignacius Kauri

The ground was warm-no, maybe even hot-as Ignacius slowly care out of his bee-induced sleep. As he slowly became fully aware of his surroundings, his eyes widened. The area that had once been heaven was now hell. He had no idea how-or why-the paradise island had come to be this way, but he was sure it was in part the gamemakers trying to spice things up for the viewing audience. On top of that, he felt mildly sick. He knew what disease he had contracted in the arena, but he was confident that he could find a way to deal with it soon. Standing up, he gazed around the once-peaceful island, taking in the cracked, ugly ground; and Mount Doom chilling in the distance. He hoped he didn’t have to sacrifice his bullet into the volcano to calm the vengeful spirits of the gamemakers. He shook the ashes of the flower field off from him, and with a happy surprise noticed that the hell island’s heat had smoked his meat, making it safe for him to eat. It was then when he heard the sound of hooves on the cracked ground approaching him. 

Turning around, he saw deer. A motherfucking squad of demon deer that looked like they wanted to kill him. There were two demon children and six demon adults waiting to rip his guts out and eat his brains. Their eyes were red-a deep crimson that matched the color of blood-and as they hissed at him he saw their vampire-like teeth. Tightening his grip on the double-sided axe, he readied himself for the upcoming slaughter, noting the sharp claws on their feet. He wondered if they would hurt as bad as Emilia’s claws when she pounced on his chest back in District 7 wanting food. He locked eyes with each of the devil spawn, waiting for one of them to make the first move. In his head, he began playing Ironside. He was going to take down these bitches.

It was only a few seconds before the battle started. One of the demon fawns ran towards him, screaming in a voice that sounded similar to-the laughter of..no. Fuck that. He didn’t know where they could have found that, let alone how they could have known about it. He had made sure no one knew. It was almost upon him, screeching, it’s mouth ready to bite at his ankles. Slamming his foot down on its windpipe, he cut off the laughter, and brought his axe down in one fluid motion, cutting off the head. But there it was again-this time it was his name in the same childhood voice that he tried to block out every night.Turning around, he saw one of the adult demons charging at him. Grinding his teeth, he sprinted towards the deer, striking his axe through the middle of its head. But it wasn’t dead. The voice continued. Ignacius barely avoided the teeth of the deer as he brought down the axe again, but this time at the neck, and with three swings the head fell to the floor. He was just about to regain his footing when he felt himself pushed to the ground, feeling a single claw make a large cut (in terms of area, not in depth) down his back.

“Play with me, Ig. It would be so much fun! We can sneak into the woods and make a fort if we really wanted to!” 

Ignacius felt his world stop moving as he went still, his eyes wide. For so long he had refused to acknowledge those memories. And even though he had certifiably snapped entering the arena, he still cared about this person. He could never forget him. The momentary shock was replaced with a deep anger, one he hadn’t felt in a long time. Flipping onto his back, he pushed his body down the ground, under the body of the devil spawn, and he sliced open its stomach, feeling the guts fall onto him, splattering him with blood. He rolled out from under the body in just enough time to make sure he wasn’t crushed by the weight of Satan as the deer fell onto its side. He quickly stood up, and slit the thing’s throat, stopping the train of dialogue coming from its mouth. Upon hearing the thundering of hooves running towards him, he spins around, looking into the eyes of another demon spawn. It opened it mouth, and out came a cry of pain. It was from the day when he had cut off his toe in the woods when they were practicing with their dads. Ignacius had helped him back to his house and had helped treat the wound. Glaring forward, he felt his anger only build, and as the demon deer ran up to him he let out a guttural scream and starting making swifts strikes to its head, mutilating its face and making the cry louder until it stopped and the deer fell down, for he had cut all the way through the head, into the neck, down it throat, until he found the heart and sliced it in two. There were some minor scratches on his upper arms from the teeth that went by him as he slaughtered the demon. Four of them were down. Four to go. 

“Listen to me, you little fucks. It’s not like I killed them for no reason. I got motherfucking R E S O U R C E S from them. And I have no fucking idea how you got ahold of his voice. But you are going to pay for doing this. I don’t care if it brings me to the brink of death, because not only is no one allowed to speak about him. And. No. One. Calls. Me. Ig. So come at me you little demon spawn. If this is hell, it honestly isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Two of the beasts ran towards him at once, aiming to skewer him with their antlers. Their special little voice boxes did nothing but make the sound of him sleeping towards Ignacius. It was weird, but nowhere as weird as some of the other noises that they had captured of his best friend making when he...He prepped himself, and when they were upon him, he slid to the ground hitting his head on the way. Through the large string of curse words came the action of lifting himself onto the back of one of them as they untangled their antlers, trying to not fall off of it. Trying to buck him off, Ignacius took that moment to, in three swift hacks, cut of its head. Then, like a chicken, it ran around for a few moments before slowly tipping and falling to the ground. Ignacius jumped off it in just enough time to make sure that his legs weren’t crushed in the process. But, of course, his little acrobatic stunt made sure that his arms got some nice rock burn from the fucking volcanic flooring that now lined the island instead of grass. Turning onto his back, he barely avoided the second deer smashing in his brains with its antlers. Grunting, he got back onto his feet and ducked under it, moving with it as it tried to flesh him out. He cut through all four of it hooves-not completely, just enough to make it hurt like a bitch. His bad leg was screaming at him, but he ignored it, pushing through the pain. Whilst coming out from under the demon deer, he noticed that his “old” wound was bleeding a bit. Motherfucking hell. He didn’t have time for this. Looking forward, he stared into the eyes of the last demon spawn. And it was the fucking devil himself. 

The doe stood there, larger than any of the other deer, with a look of fire in her eyes. And, believe it or fucking not, the baseball bat was still in her mouth, but now it had the same vampire-like spikes that the teeth of the demon deer did. Glaring at it, he felt the rage behind the mother as she opened her mouth and out came the most devastating memory yet.

“Ig, you know what? You’re my best friend. You understand me, and we have so much fun together. I can’t wait to see the things we’ll do when we get older. With you around, I can never imagine being sad. You make me happier than anything else in the world.”

Ignacius tightened his grip on the axe until his fingertips were white-that is, what you could still see of them underneath all of the black blood from the spawn of the Devil. He locked eyes with her, and the amount of pain he wanted he to feel was clear in her eyes. 

“Look, okay. Whatever, I killed your child. Death happens all the time, and it always happens to the ones we love. There’s nothing you can do about it. But, you can not rub it in the faces of those left behind. So, you better fucking stop making that noise or else your death will only get so very much worse.”

The doe ran towards him, and he waited until she was upon him to pull his same old move of hitting the ground and popping up somewhere else. But she was smart, and had seen him do the same thing many times before. So when he hit the ground, he felt her dig one of her claws into his chest, and make a small cut-that is, that’s all she was able to make before he rolled away. Climbing shakily onto his feet, he sprints, running towards her, and gets in a few successful swipes at her neck, but she keeps running towards him, the look of fire in her eyes. A smile creeps onto Ignacius’s face, and he reaches into his bag, grabbing one of the antler pieces, and with one movement he stabs it through the neck. This causes her to pause and scream in pain, giving him enough time to duck, and slice through her heart, her falling to the ground as a corpse while he gets splattered with even more blood. 

Standing up, he remembers the last one. Turning around, he sees the fawn, and waits. His leg hurts, and he doesn’t want to run anymore. Weirdly enough, this demon fawn simply walks up to him. Staring at it, Ignacius falls to the ground in shock when he hears what comes out of its mouth. It is the screams. The awful screams that he had awoken to that night. The pain could be heard. The betrayal. The knowing that life was ending. The hope that someone could come save him. Ignacius remembered running across the street, seeing the burning house. Trying to get inside. His parents pulling him back. Him sobbing uncontrollably. The fawn just continued to stare at him. He couldn’t do it. It would be like killing his best friend again. He hadn’t been able to save him. He hadn’t been able to keep his promise. All of a sudden, the fawn burst into flames, and the screams continued. Ignacius curled into a bawl, and began rocking, but the tears wouldn’t come. Only the memories. And his failure. And the childhood realization that death existed, and would always come for you in the end. 

It was a long time before Ignacius moved again. Even after the fawn had died, he was still on the ground, motionless. But when he finally did, his blank stare examined himself. None of his injuries were that bad-physically. The wounds would stop bleeding soon enough, and , although they hurt like a bitch, it wasn’t enough to keep him from moving forward. The real damage lied in his mind. If even possible, this battle had broke him even further. Forgetting his past was the only thing that allowed him to move on. No he had to try to survive, even though he hadn’t been able to keep his promise and make sure that his friend had as well. 

His blank gaze met another package from a sponsor. It must have flown down to this bloody hell while he was fighting. Moving towards it, he watched as he left a black trail of blood behind him. Opening the container, he sees an item that he recognizes, as he had smuggled it a few times before, and seen it at the first aid station in the training center: it was a universal antidote in syringe form. As he picked it up, he watched as the deer blood covered the vial. Readying his right arm, he took the syringe and shot himself up with it. He hoped that this would help cure whatever fucking sickness had infected him that he had felt as soon as he had awoken. After he had finished, he noticed that there was a note at the bottom of the sphere. Picking it up, he read the note from Marcus that read: I knew it was only a matter of time before you fucked up. Have fun with the rest of your sorry life kid. 

Nice sentiment. He couldn't bring himself to laugh. Or even do that creepy grin he had become so accustomed to. His face remained flat, and he picked up the sponsor sphere, shoving it into his supplies bag. Expressionless, he made one more deer bag, cooked some more meat on the hot ground, filled the bag with that meat, cut off a few more antler pieces, shoved the pieces in the materials bag, and stood up, looking at his surroundings, blood dripping from his body and forming a giant puddle all around him. 

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As you look around at the countless deer that want you dead, Ignacius, you find a small light of hope coming towards you in the form of a sponsor gift. Inside is a universal antidote in syringe form. There is also a note.

“ I knew it was only a matter of time before you fucked up. Have fun with the rest of your sorry life kid.” - Marcus

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Events of the Day: 

You Can Only Take So Much...: Waiting to head into the arena, Ignacius was chilling with Marcus, and was close to having a nervous breakdown. Marcus literally slapped some sense into him and gave him his token, which was the last straw for Ignacius, and he basically just snapped. 

60 Seconds Before Bloodbath/1 Second Before Bloodbath: Ignacius talked some smack with Pearl, laughed at some of the other antics going on between tributed, figured out his plan for the bloodbath, and ignored the fact that the acidic water lapping at his feet was causing him anything except for pain. 

The Bloodbath: Ignacius made it to the island in the middle in twenty seconds by using the glowing stones to help propel him forward while he was swimming. Although his leg was hurting him, Ignacius ignored it and went for the red backpack, but it was swept up by Pé. Figuring he couldn’t make it up the rocky structure, Ignacius grabbed the baseball bat and five long and sharp rocks. He went north from the island. 

Sponsorship: Ignacius gets a sponsor item, an axe, from the sky. It comes with a note from Margaret Belisle, which says: “Make me proud.”

Adrenaline: Ignacius came out of the fog into a paradise-like island. After noticing that Clovis and Lars are also on the island, he receives his sponsor item. He abandons three of the rocks and ignores the other tributes as he begins to explore. He notices something in the distance, but a deer and a fawn break his concentration. He kills the deer and takes part of its antler before moving forward. Coming upon the object, he sees that it is a spring with a golden something at the bottom of it, and takes off his equipment before diving into the water. There are some fish in the water, but Ignacius ignores them for the moment. There is a treasure chest at the bottom, and although it is heavy, Ignacius hauls it back up to the surface with him. He sees the fawn again, but it runs away before he can do anything. Grabbing his supplies, he moves himself and the chest a few feet away from the spring in case something jumps out at him. There is a double-sided axe inside and Ignacius figures out a unique way in which to keep both of the axes on his person. He kills the baby fawn, and then goes over to its parent and cuts its head off, empties it of its contents, and put his sponsor axe and the two rocks inside of it. Ignacius keeps the double-sided axe in his hands, always at the ready. He abandoned the baseball bat. A doe then proceeds to attack him with said baseball bat before running away. He then proceeds to make a bag of out of the fawn’s head, and fills that with deer meat to eat later. He drinks his fill from the spring, gets some more antler pieces, and then continues to explore, avoiding a suspicious flower patch. He runs across a bridge going towards a desert island, decides not to go there, and heads north-west. He comes across a sketchy patch of mushrooms, and goes south-west. He sees the forest island in the distance, and is happy because he wants to check it out later. The trees are his friends. Walking into another flower patch, he wonders if he can make the flowers useful to him. Anxious because of all the beautiful nature around him, Ignacius sees a golden shimmer and heads to check it out. It’s a motherfucking golden flower and he gets stung by a motherfucking bee that makes him fall asleep. He is upset that this happened, and hopes that no one will come and kill him during his sleep. 

Current Location: Ignacius is west on paradise island, relatively close to the bridge to the evil neon spider forest, asleep in a giant flower field. 

Injuries: Small bruise on back from baseball bat hit by the doe, small bump on head from falling to the ground two different times,  and bee sting in his neck. Old leg injury is obviously still there.

Weapons: Two long and sharp rocks from the bloodbath island, sponsor axe, double-sided axe from the spring’s treasure chest, and antlers bits that he could stab someone with. 

Items: Bullet that he pulled out of his leg during the war (token item), one deer head bag that contains his weapons in it, one fawn head bag that is filled with as much deer meat as it can hold, and antler bits that he could use for something other than stabbing. 

Food?: Ignacius didn’t get a chance to eat anything before he passed out, but he did drink enough water to keep him hydrated for the moment being. 

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Getting closer, Ignacius sees that the golden object is not another chest, but rather a golden flower. It was a strange sight to see in the arena. It was too beautiful to be there. As he went to move away from the golden flower, he felt a stinging on the front of his neck, near the area where Pearl had stabbed him with the needles. Fucking hell, this was a trap. He knew that he shouldn’t have trusted the flowers. They looked too happy to actually be pure and not evil. Ignacius watches as a bee the color of the flower flies in front of his face. He feels like it’s taunting him. Fucking hell he had never even liked bees before. Now he hated them. Glaring at all of the nature around him, Ignacius suddenly becomes very tired. Fuck. The bee had drugged him. It feels like he’s gone weeks without sleep, and Ignacius finds himself on the ground, with his deer bags and his double-sided axe tucked safely beside him. Just as he is about to pass out, he has several last thoughts cross his mind: that, hopefully, the sleep wouldn’t last too long; that no tribute would find him passed out in the flower field and kill him and take his stuff; and that he really wanted to get the fuck out of the flower field as soon as he wakes so the bee wouldn’t sting him again. 

Adrenaline // Arena Day 1 // Ignacius Kauri

Anxious, he tightens his grip on his double-sided axe harder, and moves to investigate the golden object. He really hoped these flowers weren’t poisonous. He had experienced enough poison for a lifetime.