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Grian
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How could I not?
Not wishing for all of that to have never happened. For it to not have repeated itself and doomed the one risen triumphant?
How could I not find simple comfort in what was, what could have continued? Taking the kindness and joy I receive from those I deemed friends, partners, and twist it into their tombstones?
Those I hold dear should never have had faith in such great peace they believe I bring, for I can only hold dear to what I could never keep.
These cycles drive us mad, with how hopeless each twisted art piece we parade around till the next keeps us on the edge. I’ve seen what they do, I'd been the first after all, only I understand the stifling suffocation this role throws upon us like an anvil.
Scott
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I’ve won. How could I not when I've been ever faithful? Faithful to those I held dear, Never having the thought of betrayal push my ally’s aside in search of a twisted murder.
I’ve won, but at what cost? Sick entertainment for those watching like we’re nothing more than Sunday television? I’ve not a clue what they wish to see from me though I know I've angered them. I can feel their scrutiny as they thrust lightning into my sword and through my veins.
The first says it gets easier to bear a crown. I do not believe him, for I can see his still weighs heavy on his matted and bloodied head.
He says they adore a good show, moving around what they called the winner circle as they readied themselves for another event.
Pearl
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It’s cold where I am.
Scott would have said it’s from the powdered snow I'd let embrace my skin, I’d say it's from how empty I've felt since I won.
I didn’t ask for this. I hope tilly’s alright without me.
Scott said I deserved it more, but did I? I remembered everything from before, everything. I don’t think this was something he should have wished upon me.
He should have won again but I've been ripped and torn to be a part of this cast, Though I wish I hadn’t.
The winner's circle is strange. I see scott and grian, familiar faces but different. Grian looks different, torn between himself and something else entirely. Scott looks more on edge than he'd ever been. I suppose I may mirror that.
Martyn
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I can see them. I’ve seen them before, the eyes.
They watched me closer than before when I pulled my latest stunt, finding the show I put on enjoyable. Something to rave about among themselves.
I’d say I cherished the attention had I not felt the heat from a past lava bucket and the hilt of a sword tainting my grip, lining my fingers with the guilty glory we’d all fought so hard for.
I joined the others later. The eyes wanted a more in depth look at him before he left, but he was greeted with the others nonetheless.
A dinner table of all things, the bigger the crown the earlier the win. Grian sits at the head’s seat, crown tall upon his head. I wish mine was like that, almost, the corals dug into my scalp more than I'd have liked.
The other two look more distant, reserved. Crowns reluctantly stable on the crown of their heads. I can't help but wonder as the ocean's salty smell radiates off me, How could I not have won?
Scar
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I wish they’d let me go. I’ve figured out why I'm stuck, sick entertainment a distant voice had told me. It was a familiar voice, though I think it may have just been mine.
I only perished when they stopped sending food down into the world, livestock killed off with lightning strikes.
I starved and soon ended up with all the familiar people. Martyn sat next to me, I scrunch my nose every time he moved, he reeked of fish and the ever present stench of his victory.
Pearl and Scott seem a bit more in tune with him, pity for the others, for me. I can't help but feel the same after what I'd remembered, but I hate them all at the same time.
Grian sits at the head of the table. They all had crowns, others taller than some, mine was the smallest, more akin to a tiara.
But while the others looked as though they've come to understand and be free from the shackles they made themselves, The first looks distraught at the sight of me.
I can't help but wonder if he still feels guilty for the desert. I want to tell him it wasn't his fault, but I'll stay quiet.
Joel
—---
I did it. I finally won, me and my car. But I don't know if I should be triumphant or guilt ridden if the others' faces are anything to go off of.
Scar looks more appealing with his emotions, more in tune with welcoming me warmly. Scott and Pearl try, they really do. I know what those eyes say, no matter how much they try not to say anything.
Martyn is by far the best about my victory, he says his was filled with his own celebration much like my own.
Grian only seems to look at me with hollow eyes. But I don't think I care to know, I died before he won anyway. Died before any of them won really, but that's just how it goes. I won, and that's all that matters.
Cleo bonus
—----
I don't really think I should be here. Well, I won but not really. I know mine wasn't meant for anything serious like the others were, just a single day for some laughs. But here I am sitting at a table with either the most sullen or cheeky people to have existed.
I'm the only one eating anything that’d been on the table. There were doos on the dinner table and who would I be if I turned down a free meal?
The others talk more when you provoke them into a conversation. Martyn and Joel seem to talk the most, Scott and Pearl holding the place next to them.
Grian doesn't talk as much, the others say he hasn't got over his own victory, scar says he's still sorry. I just know that this may take some time.