With Ears To See and Eyes To Hear //Python, Open

With Ears To See and Eyes To Hear //Python, Open Mar 26, 2012 18:56:24 GMT -5

Post by Eris on Mar 26, 2012 18:56:24 GMT -5

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000]

Avielle Blaire‘’
So sharpen your T E E T H;
And bite as H A R D as you want.

As the sky lightened and Avielle’s eyelids drooped, she thought once more on how she should stop pulling all-nighters. The teen had been propped against the trunk of the birch tree in her front yard for about twelve hours now, and it seemed as if she couldn’t care less. Broken thoughts and half formed sentences swirled within the drowsy lass’ head as she stared at the ever brightening horizon.

Bringing one of her slender hands up toward her face, Avielle rubbed at her swollen eyes then proceeded to check the state of her nails; still chipped and torn from her little exploration act with a newly developed hallucinogen. A small smile curled the redhead’s lips as she thought back on that chaos-ridden night. What had she even been thinking? Trying a brand new, untested drug on the slim chance that she wouldn’t die had unfolded into quite the scene.

Multihued eyes wandering over the pale skin of her forearm, Avielle noted the welts and bruises that blossomed over her skin and considered getting a tattoo. Ideas for the inking ran through her head before completely halting. No. she thought to herself. I don’t want to have my wealth tattooed across my skin. A sudden flash of anger flared through the thin lass as she thought of her parents. Turning to face the house she so despised, Avielle reached up into the low-hanging branches of the birch and yanked off a handful of seed capsules.

Standing there with her back against bark, weighing the weight of the capsules within her palm, the lanky teen felt the urge to scream bubble up into her throat. She wanted to yell and rage and tear the whole district down. The youth wanted to walk right up to that lovely clapboard house, soak it in kerosene and light a match. Her parents were still asleep, and she knew they would stay asleep even if the house were smoldering around them.

They wouldn’t care, just like they never cared about anything or anyone else. They hated their lives and everyone around them, including their only daughter. Clenching her hands into fists, Avielle tried to resist the unbreakable need to destroy something – anything at all. Turning so that the empty shell of a home was to her back, the dame clawed at the papery trunk of the tree until her nails tore and bled, leaving scarlet tracks running down the brilliant white bark.

Beauty in the breakdown…

OOC-
anyone welcome :)

[/blockquote]
[/color][/td]
[/tr]
[/table][/center]

With Ears To See and Eyes To Hear //Python, Open Mar 30, 2012 19:47:20 GMT -5

Post by Python on Mar 30, 2012 19:47:20 GMT -5

-----------------------

The sun peaked its head over the horizon basking the district with delicious golden light that made the dew-covered grass twinkle. A pair of silvery irises shimmered against this blanket of sunlight and a pair of dainty, scarred hands clutched a sketchbook full of bittersweet memories. Pearl Millison, with fair hair dangling past her shoulder blades, inhaled the crisp air of dawn and slipped a freshly sharpened pencil behind her ear. Today was the day the young Career would skip the blood and the sweat and the senseless violence to kick back and do what she did best; draw.

Flipping through the pages of her private sketchbook one would find pictures of every variety and color. She sketched people, landscapes, plants, jewelry, antiques - anything. Any piece of the world that caught her artistic eye could become another permanent stamp in her book. Another piece of her precious memory. Instead of expressing her grief, joy, despair, guilt - everything - in words, she sketched them. Her book was her diary. A picture is worth a thousand of her words, and a million others too.

With a sigh of content the gentle girl followed the morning breeze that tried to catch the bottom of her dress. She was bent on visiting her favorite location in district one: a small pond on the outskirts of the district only a mile or so away from the district boundaries. The line drawn between her suffocating life of failure and a life of imprisonment in the Detention Center. No, she would never venture farther than the pond. It was in her nature to obey rules, especially if defiance could land oneself in prison.

Then again, she was already living an caged life. What could be worse?

You could be in the arena. No, that wouldn’t happen. Couldn’t happen. Because if it did, she would be destined for death.

A spot redder than any flame appeared in her peripheral vision. There was a girl - not a strange sight, since she was wandering through neighborhoods - facing a brilliantly towering tree with bark as white as Pearl’s pale complexion. A streak of color extended vertically down the pretty bark; a crimson color. Blood. The girl was scratching and clawing at the bark like a vicious feline until her nails ripped and leaked with the substance. Every logical part of her being screamed for her to leave - to scurry before the odd girl spotted her. However, the sight of blood reminded her that the girl was injured, and although she was rather squeamish, she wanted to help in any way she could. Despite the chance of an accident or other unpredictable event occurring, Pearl gathered her false courage and slowly approached the girl. She kept a decent amount of distance between them, and parted her rosy lips to speak. ”Are you okay?” she asked. Her tone offered nothing more than her utmost sincerity.

[/blockquote][/justify][/size]