.:Let it go:. {Hayley; Matt; Rosetta}

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.:Let it go:. {Hayley; Matt; Rosetta} Feb 17, 2011 20:09:42 GMT -5

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Post by peanutpie on Feb 17, 2011 20:09:42 GMT -5

Phoenix Medona

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So heres my confession, this time.[/size][/font][/url]

Training. Phoenix found that the training part of the games could possibly be the most painful, the most tedious and most time-consuming part of the games. Even a part that could be full of insanity. Sure, you had the tributes rushing about, braiding their lovely little knots or throwing the oh-so-dainty spears. With the people older than her busying themselves with large amounts of grueling effort and hard work as they scuttled around, doing what they pleased in every situation nessecary. Some people would try to master the art of plant-finding, while others would aim towards more intresting things, such as blade combat and such. Phoenix, just by being the observant little buggar she was, had always been intrigued by the small amount of training shots they gave them on the television screen.

But nothing would prepare the Medona child for what she was going to do currently. And waking up early was quite grueling for the thirteen year old to do. Honestly, it was quite hard to drag yourself out of bed to go train to go to your own death, especially since the stations Phoenix had been encouraged to take more survival skills than weaponary things. Of course, this was something that most people thought a thirteen year old would indeed take, but Phoenix had been cautious choosing the ones she would do or not. Or at least, in her mind. She would make the final descion when she was rushed to the basement. But, for that moment, Phoenix stood in the middle of the capitol bathroom with a fuzzy yellow towel draped around her overly-thin frame. She felt cold and didn't know exactly how to get to the closet without being a paranoid freak. Honestly, there could be a man, cleaning up her room outside. She didn't quite think of that before, Dammit.

She blinked her eyes and slowly padded across the caramel colored, marble flooring, her feet hitting the hollowness quickly. Peering out into the semi-darkness of the room, she found that nobody occupied the room outside of the huge teddy bear that sat at the edge of her bed, peering at her with angry eyes. Apparently, it was something that the people in the capitol thought she'd appreciate, but honestly, it was quite a downer. The chocolate that came with it was quite nice, though. Sure, the red or orange filling in a few of them made her have to drink four mini-bottles of water to take the taste from her mouth. And even then, the sweet taste of the water made her tounge scream. She'd rather have a more natural taste of water, but it was just another candy-coated-fest; like the rest of the capitol.

Slipping into the darkness, she plucked on the light switch, its clicking noise sending a bright light on the ceiling to become instantly bright. Shrugging the towel off her body, she put herself infront of the closet, plucking a few items from it. A training outfit, it seemed to be. It turned out to be a purple-and-green sweatsuit with sequins on the back pockets. The piping was silvery and glittering, and a pair of shoes the color of teardrops matched the whole ensamble, making Phoenix wonder who and why they decided to give her these clothes. Why didn't they just give her a navy shirt with a pair of hand-me-down jeans? Oh yes. They felt the need to make sure people's last weeks on earth were as goddamned special as it could get. Including giving them lavish foods and clothes. Petting the jacket, Phoenix flicked off the light behind her and dissapeared down the elevator.

Plummeting to the basement quickly, Phoenix was released from the glass elevator with a flourish. The doors opened and Phoenix stepped into a world she only thought existed on television. The walls were padded with large gymnastic's matts, gradiented from the color of lime all the way to a stark white color, each dyed a different shade of green. Of course, this changed nearly every year, but it was quite intresting to see the capitols new trendy color. It explained the slight amount of green she was wearing; she assumed. Shaking her head, she then noticed the extensive amount of tools that lay out on the ground, some on large pedalstools; perched like they could be the very next victor of the games; even if they were just weaponry objects. But, as Phoenixs' eyes started to advert themselves away from the glorious and rich scenery; she found that about half the room was of the gender she feared the most. Males.

And with that, Phoenix blinked twice. There. Were. Males. Mind racing, she crossed to the side of the wall, her eyes adverted at all times. People went from station to station, and as an instructor made the plexiglass shatter at the archery station. Yet, Phoenixs' tense body was unaware of the sad things that surronded her.... The only thing that mattered was getting away from the quite feminine-looking male she was standing by. Her heart beat quickly as she tried to think of a way to avoid the brown haired male who was standing a few feet away from her. Blinking twice, she gulped slightly and moved across the mat, this one being a slightly minty one, her fingers tracing the smooth anc cold sensation that it presented. It reminded Phoenix vaguely of waking up on the forest floor; a piece of bark clenched to her fingers... After the raping. No, not the reaping. When she was raped....

She could remember vaguely touching the forest floor, the one that was on the western part of the district. The one that cut off itself suddenly, leaving a tingling wire. Phoenix had once walked all the way out to the fence. Then she went back. She wasn't going to break a law, since it was silly and unneeded to do so. Some people considered Phoenix to be a rule follower; something she'd been taunted in school about. Rule following Phoenix always was such a goody two shoes, in the small six-year-olds minds... Now, since they were older, it was more of a note and paper thing; but back when they were younger.... lets just say gingers have no souls.

Miss Medona, though, had always been a bit not-caring about the evil snickering of the district children. She had tried to hold herself to a higher standard until about the age of ten, when she got desperate and started to follow. And thats when Phoenix finally made her move slowly down the long matts, almost reaching the cream colored one, when one of her most ragged nails, the one on the index finger caught a snag. Desperatley trying to remove her hand from the situation and run as fast as she could, the mat's came tumbling down, making Phoenix even more desperate to get away from this situation. And, in fact; these males.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

Last Edit: Feb 18, 2011 10:30:53 GMT -5 by peanutpie

Hayley
District Mayor

[M:-3675]

997 POSTS
last seen Sept 1, 2015 15:55:18 GMT -5

"One time I drank two liters of chocolate milk and almost died."

.:Let it go:. {Hayley; Matt; Rosetta} Feb 18, 2011 16:39:56 GMT -5

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Post by Hayley on Feb 18, 2011 16:39:56 GMT -5

Weldon!

God, I loved this place. There were so many shampoos! And not one of them came from tree sap like my dingy homemade ones! I was in heaven, absolute, heaven. When I stepped into the shower, I was greeted by a panel of very colorful buttons. Which should I press first? Totally the pink one. When I did, lilac scented perfume sprayed throughout the shower. Soon I was coughing from the scent. Next, I clicked a blue button. This one squirted blue shampoo all over my head. It was kind of a waste because I still hadn't figured out how to actually turn the shower on but it was all good. There was on the panel, so I could only assume that was how the water turned on.

My small finger reaches the top of my round head and draws little circles in the blue goo. It smells faintly of mint leaves. I like mint leaves. Finally, my other hand comes up to my head and I rub the cyan slime throughout my silky caramel locks. Dripping in sludge, my hand flips the white switch into the up position. Suddenly, I'm pelted with alternating streams of hot and freakishly hot water. "Gosh, dang it!" I hiss through my clenched teeth as I hop back and forth on the balls of my feet on the textured acrylic floor. Small high pitched yelps emit from my mouth as the jets of liquid prod my sensitive skin. Blue stuff interrupts my vision and I become momentarily confused before realizing its the shampoo. I then resume my crazed little dance.

Wrapping the fluffy white towel around my skinny torso, I step out of the shower barefoot and dripping wet. The second the air hits me, I shiver. My little escapade in the shower has surely woken me up, but my skin is burning hot. It feels like someone poked me with a cattle prod over and over and over again everywhere. It hurts like hell, thats for sure. Okay, no more Capitol showers for a while, or at least until I find someone to tell me how to use the dang things.

The towel drops onto the pristine carpeting of my room as I pull on my ridiculously clean underclothes. Everything here is so clean! I bet you could eat off of the floors and not have to worry one bit about getting one of those icky diseases. Pausing for a moment, I look out of the huge picture window on the east wall. You can probably see the entire Capitol from up here; I'm on the tenth floor. See, we got to take this glass elevator ride when we got here up to our rooms. Each district got their own floor all to themselves! Immediately upon arrival, I rushed to my room. I'm not sure what became of my district partner. Her name escapes me, but she was a volunteer, too. Psh, our district is full of wimps. Both tributes stepped down this year. Although, I'm probably the only one that actually wants to die.

I never really put much thought into my own death. Would it be peaceful or brutal? Would it be at the hand of someone else, or even myself? I was kind of hoping it would just be natural, just die in my sleep or something. Alas, that is extremely anti climatic. Now that I think about it, a little action would be nice. I'll be sure to fight in the Arena to go down in a heroic way, but what I really want people to remember me for is my hair. Gosh, I think I love my hair more than I do myself. So much time and effort has been put in it over the years, I can only hope that somebody would at the very least, build a shrine to it, or something along those lines. Maybe a Weldon parade? Oh, that would be grand. When I'm dead, people can still remember my greatness. That way no one will ever forget me. The thought makes me smile, which is all I need to go finish getting dressed.

Once again, I'm placed in heaven. My closet is HUGE! Its bigger than my house back home! I love it. I just love it. They told me that my training outfit would be somewhere around the fr--oh, here it is. Ugh, seriously? Couldn't they come up with anything more stylish? Apparently not, so I'm stuck with this getup. All I was provided with was a pair of black cotton pants and a tea green tee shirt. I wear nicer clothes than this back home. With a sigh, I tug the rest of the clothes on.

Back in the glass elevator, I stand next to a blonde haired girl. She was very pretty, but looked extremely nervous. As the Capitol whooshed above us, and we started to enter the basement, she kept looking around, at me and most of the other guys in the elevator. Maybe she was just nervous Bout training. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but apparently that wasn't working. I guess I'll just have to kill her in the Arena. No, wait, why did I just say that? Ugh, stupid Hunger Games mindset. With a flourish, the doors opened up and I strutted onto the lime green mats. That must be why my shirt was so green. They had been trying to make us match with the walls. Seriously, there were green mats all over everywhere. The walls, the floors, you name it. Weapons line the colorful scenery. Do they really think I'm going to get all sweaty and stuff with those axes and junk? You must be kidding me. I hear a crash behind me and turn around to see a large mat fall on top of the girl that wouldn't talk to me in the elevator. Slowly, I walked over towards her, crossed my arms, and looked at her all smushed underneath the lightweight object.

"Get up!" I snap impatiently.

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Last Edit: Feb 19, 2011 8:40:57 GMT -5 by Hayley

Hayley: I'm on a Hayleypage. That's a Hayley rampage.
shr♦mpeh: you hayleypage hayley
shr♦mpeh: you go girl!
shr♦mpeh:

shr♦mpeh: -insert blond cheerleader here-

Rosetta
Retired Staff

1,872 POSTS
last seen Aug 5, 2020 8:28:28 GMT -5

.:Let it go:. {Hayley; Matt; Rosetta} Feb 19, 2011 18:24:47 GMT -5

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Post by Rosetta on Feb 19, 2011 18:24:47 GMT -5

Maia Grayson

Maia picked away at her food, her silverware left forgotten, her fingers ripping away at the pancakes in front of her. Her hands were sticky from the syrup, the nauseating sweet scent reaching her nose, and filtering through out her entire body. Why had she ordered pancakes anyway? And drenched them so in syrup? Stupid move. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer, and she disposed of the entire plate, and stood there, unsure of what to do now. Her eyes met the clock, which proclaimed she still had a half an hour. Maia took to pacing, her hands folded, tightly, behind her back, her mouth opening every so often in a yawn which she hastily beat down. She couldn't eat. It was weird. After hard training she could eat anything, and she usually ate everything in sight. Now, it was the exact opposite. She couldn't digest a thing. Every tablespoon of food threatened to make a reappearance, and in some instances it did. She tried to convince herself it was the Capitol food, but reality insisted upon something else: nerves. How dare she get nerves now?! She was only going to training, which she already had been to! It wasn't anything new or too nerve-wracking at all! If she was this anxious now, what would be become once in the Games?

She tried to flee from those thoughts, yanking them from her mind. She wasn't going to be a weak tribute. The sniveling ones, so overcome with fear they forget themselves. That behavior got no sponsers. Even if the fear was fake, a way to slink below the radar, it could go seriously wrong. It lead to the most undesirable place in the Games: as a picture in the sky at night. Maia wasn't going to risk that.

She took a deep breath, and straightened her clothes, kneeling down to tie up her sneakers. Her hair hadn't been difficult today, and allowed her to tie it up. Several pieces fell across her eyes, and she impatiently brushed them away. Sometimes, she wished she hadn't cut it so severely. Most of it had grown, but still shortened, butchered strands always made a problem. And the dye was fading, making her look a bit odd, as if her hair couldn't decide whether or not to be dark brown or jet-black. She’d always hated her appearance. She was the ugly one, not as pretty as her sister, or even her mother, who apparently was quite attractive in her day. No one glanced twice at her, and if they did, their eyes would slid from her damaged hair, to her pimples, and finally to her inconsistent eyelashes and eyebrows, ripped out by her own hand in frustration. Or they’d ask about her various training scars, but they would never seem impressed. They merely exchanged glances with the person next to them, and if they were alone, found the floor with their eyes, obviously remembering…remembering the ugly 13 year old girl who’d stepped down…

However, looks wouldn’t help her in the Games. Even if she was beautiful, she would never distract anyone from not killing her. She needed strength, and skill. In which case, she needed to train. She’d always been underestimated, because of that fateful day. She was believed to be weak, not a Career, as much as she tried to prove it. People turned their noses up at her, snorted if she made the slightest mistake in training. She spent countless days fighting like crazy, eating when she could, and collapsing into bed at night, only to be shook awake from her father several hours later for the cycle to start over again. She was never good enough. Even before that Reaping, she was nothing. She was still thought of honorably in training, but she sulked heavily in Valora’s shadow. After the Reaping, she still hung around in that darkness, but it wasn’t as prominent. The only reason she would be noticed was to be taunted, tormented, laughed out until the point where…she just couldn’t stand it any longer…

She was curled on the damp bathroom floor in the District 2 training center. Her back was arched against the grimy wall, her legs curled up in front of her, her chest heaving. She was nawing on her hand, the metallic taste of blood washing over the tongue, trying to staunch the sounds that arose inside of her. Words echoed inside of her head, cruel laughter, the shouting of her father. Her eyelashes came off into her tugging hands, and there was a massive lump in her throat, threatening to choke her. There came a banging on the door.

“Maia, what the hell are you doing in there?!” Her father screaming. “Hurry up!” She didn’t answer immediately. She removed her hand from her mouth, and wiped the blood on her shorts. The rapping from her father persisted on the door. He was a Peacekeeper trainer himself, and he never allowed any of them bathroom or food breaks. Why should she be any different?

“Yeah, alright! Give me a minute!” She hollered and standing, she staggered to the sink, turned it on and splashed water on her face, erasing all traces of tears. Her breath was shaky, and it took her a moment to steady herself, gripping the edge of the sink, spitting the blood from her mouth.

“Maia!” She didn’t ignore her father this time, afraid of doing so. She hastily composed her face back into a scowl, fitted her hands into her pockets, and walked from the bathroom, back into training, with a familiar mask on. Pretending. She was never crying. She hadn’t locked herself in the bathroom to do so. None of that happened.

Or at least she wished…

Washing the syrup off her hands, in her room in the Capitol, Maia didn’t even check herself once more in the mirror before leaving her room. She bypassed the elevator, running down two flights of stairs, to get her blood pumping. Before entering the training room, she reminded herself that these kids weren’t from back home. They didn’t know her story. She wouldn’t let them judge her. They couldn’t.

She took a deep breath, and walked inside. The first thing she saw: a younger girl knock over a mat. Maia allowed herself to roll her eyes, relief passing over her body. See, she had no idea what she’s doing, you can do better than her, Maia. She stood there, as another boy went over to the girl, just as young, and ordered her to get up. She snorted now. Like he had any authority. He looked just as naïve. Satisfication of being able to judge them flooded inside of her. It was kind of…fun. And before she knew it, she was walking over to the pair of them.

She crossed her arms, and managed to pull a disapproving face. “What happened?” She glanced down at the girl, and her disapproval faltered. The pretty girl looked almost pitiful, and for a fraction of a second, Maia saw herself. Minus this girl’s beauty. Some invisible force made her reach out, and pull the mat off the girl. However, as soon as she’d done it, she regretted it. And she wasn’t sure why.

“Alright, well you heard him. Get up.” She ordered, holding up the mat, so the girl could. She looked back at the boy, for some reason unable to look at this girl any longer. “What’s your name, anyway?”