The <CORNERS> of your ((vision)) ~tribute.

Onyx
Capitol Resident

1,169 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jan 3, 2023 15:20:14 GMT -5

in between somewhere and nowhere

The <CORNERS> of your ((vision)) ~tribute. Jun 12, 2012 13:39:49 GMT -5

Post by Onyx on Jun 12, 2012 13:39:49 GMT -5

Does | Thinks | Says | Hears

My trainer would call me disgraceful. I am wandering along through the centre of the District quite aimlessly, longsword trailing along the ground at one side and arm covered in bloodstained bandages swinging at the other. The metal hums almost serenely in my sweaty, dusty palm and sonorous notes echo out occasionally as its blade clashes with a particularly large and heavy stone. Behind me, the prints from my tattered sandals are accompanied by the single line that the point makes. It wasn’t exactly losing, simply giving the young opponent a chance to taste victory. This has been my first time back at the Training Centre all year, perhaps I was drawn back by the memory of the rush one receives from fighting. It is true, the sound of two blades rasping together, like groans from a parched man’s throat, the grunts and sweat soaring from each fighter, scarlet spatters on the padded floor from the occasional accident between more brutal teenagers, these things have always pulled me. I crave the electric waves under my skin as adrenaline pulses through my system. And so what was meant to be an innocent visit to pick up my beloved knives and swords turned into a fully developed tournament.

How did the new trainer describe me?

A little rusty.

No, no, he must have meant my sword.

You could improve, Miss Solstice. I take the surname Rhodes, moron, I wished I could have said, as I cradled my freshly mummified arm and looked up at the square-jawed young man tapping his foot in my direction. The medic treated me like a child with stomach ache. My pride, like my arm, bled as the sixteen year old scampered off with barely a bruise to show I had come back to the Training Centre at all, and I now try to regain this lost attention by parading myself where I would rather not be seen. Archer will be most displeased.

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The stench of the perfumed medication that douses my wound irritates my nose, and is made no better by the almost unnatural heat of the midday sun. The sickly sweet air wafts thickly into my lungs, but I ignore the urge to cough. I would rather suffocate than be looked at wrongly anymore. A thin sheen of sweat makes my forehead itch and my eyelids are heavy with drowsiness from all the blood I have lost. A quick attack, I was not expecting it…

A little rusty.

I grit my teeth and begin to walk again. Nearing the first contour of activity, where the amount of busy District-dwellers drops considerably, I decide the show is over and swing my sword up to my shoulder. The weight on my shoulder is a solid reminder of a past life, a life where I had parents that cared and a face that went recognised in all the right ways. And now, people follow me just to tell their friends. A normal Career would enjoy the attention. A normal Career would still have all the flesh on their limbs, wouldn’t they? A jab of pain shocks me and I stop, waiting for the breath to come back and flood my lungs again. That’s when I hear the dragging noise of boots behind me, and realise I’m being followed. Straightening up, my hand instinctively reaching to join the other on the handle of my weapon, I announce in a voice as loud as I can muster:

“Who is it?”[/justify][/color][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

OOC: Yes, this sucks. Leave me alone x] Hope it’s repliable :3 <33

Template by Bryya ~The BEAST

someday we'll be drinking with the seldom seen kid

tribbeh
Hunter

58 POSTS
last seen Jan 3, 2016 9:15:02 GMT -5

waow.

The <CORNERS> of your ((vision)) ~tribute. Jun 23, 2012 5:26:14 GMT -5

Post by tribbeh on Jun 23, 2012 5:26:14 GMT -5

DOING-THINKING-SAYING-HEARING

"Go and rest, Luther. You've already worked eight hours straight since 11pm last night." Rest, he says. I can't do that. Luka has to eat and get dressed for school, and I have to help him. And there's always house work and training afterwards.. I have to fit everything in my schedule, I work and study and train, I only take night shifts when school's out the next day, but work really drains me. Today, especially, I am exhausted. I manage to walk and think straight but the only thought around my mind is sleeping. I'll wake after thirty minutes, I promise. But I know I wouldn't manage with so little sleep. My arms are sore and so are my legs. Everything hurts, actually. Everytime I move my body it hurts and throbs. I am a walking bruise.

I walk down the streets and take the least used ones. It's easier to get home this way because there's lots of shade, since the sun's unnaturally warm too. My navy blue shirt and jeans don't make me feel cooler. In all honesty, they make me warmer and perspire even more. I feel tired AND sticky, Isn't that wonderful? Oh the joy of wearing dark shirts and heavy pants while walking down the street and completely exhausted. They weigh me down and slow my pace. My trainer wouldn't approve of how I am dealing with this exhaustion. I have to make it home. I was trained to repel this. I could use my reserved energy now and gain them all back later. I can make it home fast if I wanted to. But I don't.

I stop and look at a long thin trail on the ground. I look both directions on where it came from and I see a girl with a tattered arm letting the sword mark streaks and lines on the streets. The girl is near me, merely four feet away, I'd say. She looks lost, hurt, disappointed, and deep in thought though. I wonder why? She's pretty too... Hello? You should be going home Luther! You should start walking. NOW. The girl stops for a moment, touches both hands on the hilt of her sword, and then her lips move. She looks defensive..but there's no one there. I walk closer and, once I'm close enough for her to see and hear me, tilt my head to the right - a gesture of curiosity. I manage a smile,

"Hello, are you looking for anything..?" She looked like she was looking for something a while ago. I couldn't think what it could possibly be. The streets are half-empty and there's not much to see. I couldn't help looking at her, she's really pretty. So what? She's pretty like every girl in the district. I know that. I can see that. What attracts me to her is how vulnerable she is, how soft she looks even when holding a sword. Not many girls I've met would like to look that way. I don't even think there are girls who'd want to. She's special that way.

OOC: I made you wait and this is what you get. I'm so sorry. I beat the monsters:3 but there're more to come.. I'll try to be better next time. <33

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Last Edit: Jun 23, 2012 5:32:09 GMT -5 by tribbeh

IMMA SLICE YOU 'CAUSE I ~~am an aspiring butcher~~ CAN

Onyx
Capitol Resident

1,169 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jan 3, 2023 15:20:14 GMT -5

in between somewhere and nowhere

The <CORNERS> of your ((vision)) ~tribute. Jul 7, 2012 9:21:23 GMT -5

Post by Onyx on Jul 7, 2012 9:21:23 GMT -5

Does | Thinks | Says | Hears

The absence of a breeze in this thick, rancid air leaves me with no doubt that the shivers crawling up my spine like centipedes are more dependent on the anticipation of a fight I may not be able to defend myself in – a little rusty – than any chill. I bring the sword hilt closer to my heart, not noticing how the edge of the blade grazes my neck, an affectionate bite from a loved one that has betrayed me. The irregular scuffle and murmur of several groups of people on their way to whatever pointless, mundane tasks they have to do disrupts the tense, electric silence between me and the stranger. My breathing is heavy, a slight tremor rolls within my stomach that tells me that if this person is looking to attack me, there is no way I could overpower them. But I am part of a Career gang. And I can always try.

The person who has been following me edges into my view like an awkward crab. He cocks his head, in a way that should look adorable but, combined with the cocky smile plastered over his angled face like a trophy of confidence, it just makes him look more awkward. There's no threat here. Having captured my full, bemused attention, the strange boy starts to speak, shy at first but quickly gaining assurance in what he is saying. "Hello, are you looking for anything?" A place I can get away from idiots like you, I want to yell in his face, but I don't. This boy probably knows who I am, and I don't need to make anyone think any less of me. I drop my sword, letting it sing out on the gravel and thud mutedly against my bare calf. I study the stranger intently, taking in his messy, sweat-woven black hair, muscled neck and half-on-guard awareness that he holds like an aura around him. Clearly a Career child. Do I know him? I've fought with many kids in my time, winning, always, and he could very well have been one of them. Did he see my defeat just before? I tense instinctively, ready to run away from any humiliation that could suddenly erupt out of this scenario at any second. No, he couldn't have been. My instincts, and the defensive way I glanced around to see which people I'd have to avoid looking at as I travelled around the District – the ones who saw the trainer deliver the terrible insult he did, who could use that against me – told me that he wasn't standing there as the medic wrapped up my seeping arm.

And then it hits me. I know who this boy is. Not only has he been flailing, embarrassingly, with a sword since I was a child, though I was never in his group, but I have seen him looking at me in shops, the Square, and at the Reapings which I am obliged to go and watch, against my painful desire not to, as a Solstice. Yep, Luther Derell definitely knows who I am.

"Nope, just walking," I laugh, flashing a carefree smile, "I just had to get my weapons from the Training Center." I try a bashful grin, averting my eyes bashfully and shifting my weight. "You can come and walk with me, if you want." Luther, though he doesn't know that I recognise him, still smiles blankly. Nothing seems off in my little act, practiced for run-ins with strangers since I was old enough to know, as my Trainer put it, the things strange boys can do to lost girls. If the moment comes, I am ready to strike. Even with my injury, I have no doubt now that I am not as weak as him, and not as weak as he thinks I am.

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OOC: It's short, but it's here x]

Template by Bryya ~The BEAST

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2012 9:23:12 GMT -5 by Onyx

someday we'll be drinking with the seldom seen kid

tribbeh
Hunter

58 POSTS
last seen Jan 3, 2016 9:15:02 GMT -5

waow.

The <CORNERS> of your ((vision)) ~tribute. Jul 13, 2012 11:13:57 GMT -5

Post by tribbeh on Jul 13, 2012 11:13:57 GMT -5

"]
DOING-THINKING-SAYING-HEARING

I stare at her - and I just know I look awkward that way. I think I know her, but I couldn't quite guess how or when I met her. The peech-haired girl with hazel eyes.. I haven't met her before, but why do I have a feeling that the slightest trace of a smirk on her lips represents a feeling of recognition? I suddenly felt weird around the girl. A tingling feeling started somewhere at the back of my head. After only a few moments of being with her, I already feel uneasy though I try my best to smile outside. Confusion often means that there's something your sub-conscious is telling you, but you're too distracted to listen. For me, this may be trouble. Doubts are always trouble...aren't they?

The girl drops her sword and looks at me for a brief moment, she looks around defensively. An unreadable look passes her face and then she does what few people would think of as unthinkable. She smiles at me. I freeze at her smile. There's something about it that I feel both compeled and attracted. Her smile, like herself, was distant and cold yet it seems sweet and sincere at the same time. The tingling feeling at the back of my brain does not stop. I feel a tug of a memory. A shop. I saw a flash of an image. It looked antique, and I'm quite sure it was from when I was young... The district square. There it was again. Only this time, the flash lasted longer in my head and I saw people milling about. The Reaping. My head throbbed. I blinked my eyes rapidly and instantly I see the same long flame-coloured hair in all the mental images, no matter how many times I blink. The head of the girl was everywhere I turned my eyes to, and instead of seeing the back of a normal little girl's head, I see the face of the girl in front of me.

I push all thoughts of doubt away and, almost immediately, fatigue gets a hold of me. I try not to sway from the moment it took hold of my body, slowly draining what little energy I have left. Eating my strength away like a beast that hasn't fed for days. My hands start to shake so I tighten the way I cross my arms across my chest to keep them from being seen. I clench my fists hard and I bite my tongue hard to wake me. Pain shoots through my mouth but it was immediately overwhelmed by numbness. I can taste the faintest trace of something like rust or iron in my mouth. I know this is going to sting really badly once the numbness goes away but at least I'm awake, even for just a while.

I see her laugh and then she says, "Nope, just walking..." My head throbs. "..weapons...Training Center," That was all I heard. She grins bashfully and sways herself - Such innocence, I thought for a moment. If I wasn't a career myself, I wouldn't have to pass a second thought and label her 'Purely Harmless' in my head. But I know better, you couldn't have all those wounds without putting up a fight. No one carries a full-sized sword around with a battered arm. I see her lips move but I was too busy trying to analyze what she said to care to hear what she was saying. I look at her and try to focus, but all I hear is blood rushing and my heart pounding. Exhaustion.

"I am..tired," My voice was muffled by the blood rushing in my ears, I didn't notice I said that last sentence out loud. "You can come and walk with me, if you want," She said ...walk with me, if you want. I was too tired to decline and, let's face it, I can't say no. Not when I'm too curious to know why my brain keeps tugging me to some memory I can't remember..or to a memory I chose to lock up a long time ago.. So I say, "Of course," without a moments hesitation and ask, "Where're we walking to?"

Solstice..

OOC: Luther has to be forgetful now. I'll try to post sooner rather than later, next time ^^

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