But, You're Dead? [Clovniss]

The Beginning Of The End

Clove awakens with a choked gasp, blinking rapidly to regain her vision until it registers that she is trapped in the darkness. She presses a hand to her temple, a warm liquid quickly covering her palm, the area throbbing something fierce. With only slight hesitation, she pats her body down in search of any injuries, crying out when she moves her right arm.

No limbs were torn off in the explosion it seems, all fully intact if bruised and bloodied. The tendon in her bicep must have snapped when she caught herself on the machine gun, adrenaline and general excitement dulling the pain for some time. Every movement brings tears to her eyes and a scream threatening to escape, but she could still throw a knife with it if she has to. The only thing that worries her is the fact that her legs are numb and she can't quite move them.

"That worked a bit too well." She sighs, searching the ground for something to cover her mouth to protect her lungs from the particles circulating throughout her tomb. "Everyone's dead, and I'm trapped." Her fingers find a sizeable scrap of cloth on the ground and she picks it up, covering her mouth without it and fumbling to tie a knot at the back of her head.

A second piece of cloth would be perfect for the wound at her temple, but sadly she can't have everything. Though she can have a flashlight she had looted off the body of the first mercenary she had killed on the street, one that somehow still works.

She switches it on and tracks the beam over her surroundings, heart sinking at the wood and metal surrounding her, with rubble piled up over any gaps that could possibly be escape points. She is trapped completely and Katniss is out there somewhere, alone and without Clove to protect her.

Her flashlight catches on a handful of cracks in the rubble, cracks that seem to be growing wider as she stares at them. When she hears muffled grunts and groans, she pulls herself near the cracks and begins digging at them as best as she can with her bare hands, wedging the flashlight at an angle under the shoulder of her vest.

It takes about twenty minutes before the section of the rubble simply crumbles away, revealing the bloodied and badly injured mercenary who had decided to dig her out for some godforsaken reason. The mercenary looks moments away from keeling over but is still strong enough to drag Clove out of her prison, backing up far enough that it can collapse without harming either of them.

"Thank you." Clove nods her head to her saviour, yanking her makeshift facemask down so none of her words can be missed. "Thank you." She uses a pile of rubble to stand, the mercenary grabbing her by the vest when her legs threaten to give out.

The mercenary stands still and silent as she regains feeling and motion in her legs, unaware of their own gruesome injuries. Injuries that Clove had caused with her final trap. Ash and blood is streaked across the unburned patches of their face and neck, most of the right side of their body burnt red raw from what she can see. What is left of their right arm is a mangled mess, with a large gash tearing their side open and still bleeding despite being mostly burnt shut. A gaping wound sits on their left thigh, shrapnel still lodged in the torn flesh. How they survived and are still standing is a question that Clove nearly fears the answer to.

"What's your name?" Clove asks, trying to ignore the way her legs tremble like that of a new-born foal.

Jax, the mercenary writes on a clear piece of concrete, using the blood that had gathered on their remaining hand as the ink. It's always interesting to look at words written in blood, adds a cinematic feel to it and all.

"Let's get of here then, Jax." Clove mutters, looking around the ruins to see the full extent of the damage.

She's unsurprised that at least half of the warehouse has collapsed, most of what remains held up by several stacks of containers that were unaffected by the explosions. Fires burn amongst the wreckage, showing no sign of extinguishing despite the fact that the explosions must have happened some time ago given by how long Clove was trapped for. Already the remaining structure shows signs of collapsing at any moment; the place is a death trap for the two survivors.

For some strange reason, Clove wants to get her newest companion to safety. Perhaps because they had decided to save her despite watching their comrades be slaughtered by the dark haired girl. Maybe her little speech had changed the minds of some of those mercenaries.

Clove wraps her arm around Jax's shoulders, gently coaxing the mercenary into resting more of their weight against her body. She starts walking forward, keeping a watchful eye on what's left of the warehouse and where she's walking.

Even if it's still dark, Clove's way is easily lit by the various fires, her flashlight guiding the rest of the way. The light of the moon casts a gentle glow over the wreckage, making it seem almost peaceful. It makes it feel like some of the calmer nights of the Games, when Clove would leave their camp to watch the stars, so beautiful despite being artificial.

'Look at the damn stars when Katniss is safe, Fuhrman.' Clove thinks, tightening her grip on Jax when they stumble slightly. Despite missing most of their arm, Jax is fast and allows Clove to keep a steady pace, something that she had to admit that she is grateful for.

The duo occasionally step over the crushed body part of a mercenary, and with each pool of blood they must walk through, Clove's hand hovers over a knife in case Jax changes their mind and attempts to kill her, to avenge their deceased comrades. Her vest and shirt may be soaked with their blood, but Clove doesn't doubt that Jax could take her life even if it is the last thing they do.

Clove looks up when she hears an ominous crack splitting the air, the crate above their heads begin to crumble, the debris caught atop it threatening to fall and crush their bodies. "Hey, Jax? We need to hurry, c'mon." She mutters, adjusting her grip on their jacket. She takes a careful step forward, nerves scattered.

She can only hope that outside is clear, that no one is waiting to kill her.

Maybe for once she can have some luck and her plans will work out.

Of course, that could never happen.

The crate crumbles, the debris finally falling.

Jax yells out as a piece of debris strikes Clove on the back of the head, driving her down to the ground. Her forehead hits the concrete hard and she can feel more pieces striking her body as she fights to stay conscious, her ears ringing and a galaxy swimming in front of her eyes. She blinks away the stars to find her companion, finding them lying motionless on the ground before she is struck in the head again and the world is plunged into darkness.