Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 3 + The Third Choice (NEF)

MAYBE, MAYBE NOT - 2 

*used automatic score o my o ey*

Chaos rose and fell with the changing of the wind - the more humid, the easier it was to hear every chink of metal on flesh. The more breezy, the quicker people moved from one body to the next, pillaging life. Nefyn was no exception to the method of pillaging: in his eyes, he was the only one truly successful, and with a flourish of his arms, he let another body drop.

MAYBE, MAYBE NOT - 3

Reality was starting to trickle in like water from a faulty faucet to a boy built from old tales.

Through the darkness of the forest Nefyn bounded, soft leaves skimming over his arms at every turn, branches tracing the outline of his shoulders as he nudged his way through. If he didn't know any better, he might've thought Mother Nature herself was the one dictating such intimacy, but he'd long forgotten stories about such an ethereal person and continued onwards like it was nothing. Mara was quick on his heels - she'd been the only one willing to follow him into the abundance of green in search of food.

Amaranthina had ditched them a while back, having taken a detour to the city behind them, and frankly, Nefyn was fine with her decision. She seemed a bit eager to take the center of attention when he'd winked at her from his pedestal - she wouldn't have gotten a second of spotlight if she'd joined him.

He still felt a shred of disappointment at her decision to break away, but he shoved it away like the leaves in his face.

Viagra-Boy and Sodi had stayed behind simply because they trusted one another more, and were probably in heavy discussion over how distrustworthy their allies were. We're the dishonest because we come from a line of dishonesty. How tragic.

So down the hill they went, like a nursery rhyme his teacher had one sung to him and a collection of other snot-nosed children. Miss Cortal had been her name, and she'd retained every shred of youth up until her death a few months back, something like a tumor that'd taken her over. Jack and Jill, she called it.

"Jack and Jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water," he muttered, bounding along.

Mara nudged him with an elbow and raised a brow, but he merely shrugged and kept on.

It was only when the familiar beeping came soaring through the trees did they pause and look up, a knowing smile shared between the two as they reached out to collect what they'd rightfully earned.

Mara's sponsor gift was much smaller, but undoubtedly had some sort of tricky idea behind them. Nefyn took up the trident shipped to him with something like awe spread across his face, especially after reading such a flattering note that came with it.

A lazy smirk fell upon his lips and he leaned towards Mara's ear, flicking her shoulder. "See this? They say I'm the top tribute. Impressive, right?"

Mara remained stoic, examining her newest blades. "Top in arrogance, maybe. Top in actual skill - doubtful."

Nefyn held a hand to his heart, feigning heartbreak as he began the trek for food once more. "You wound me, Risso." He dropped his hand, preferring to keep his attention on the cool metal of his newly beloved. "Be as salty as you want. I'm used to living by oceans anyhow, you don't bother me."

She made a sound like scoffing, and sped to catch up. A mumble got caught between her lips - something about chickens getting at him - and he chose to zero in on the three tips of his trident, poking at them with his index finger. Thoughts of a girl pricking her finger on a spindle came to mind, and some part of him fell into some daydreaming slump as he tried to remember details of the tale.