Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch}

Glimmitch
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Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 25, 2012 18:42:06 GMT -5

Post by Glimmitch on Aug 25, 2012 18:42:06 GMT -5

'What is love? Ah, isn't that just the age old question? Shakespeare spent his life trying to describe it, and Lord Byron trying to feel it. A romantic would tell you it's beautiful; a hopeless romantic, on the other hand, would say it's beautifully depressing. A believer would tell you it's out there; a cynic would have you believe it's nowhere to be seen. A historian would prove that it's real, and a philosopher would give you a million and one thoughts on why it's illogical.

As for me, well, I wouldn't know if it hit me square in the jaw.

So... that brings me back to my first question: What exactly is love? Is it lust wrapped in a pretty little package? Or is it just friendship over-exaggerated. If you have an answer, please tell me. I'd love it if you did.'

Serena spent many nights thinking about how and if she'd ever find it. Nights spent alone, staring at the ceiling, recalling if there had ever been a time she felt anything remotely close to the sensation that one would call love. Maybe there was once, but she doesn't remember what happened with him.

'It was lust, wasn't it? I only wanted him for that body. Oh, that body, those eyes...NO! Serena, no.'

After only a few short moments of contemplation, which inside Serena's head felt like a small eternity, she was brought back to the real world. Where her mask was delicately placed back over her real, true self, and she was once more the mechanical killing machine that she tried to be on the outside. Her back arched against the back of the tree she was resting on and she stretched for a moment, yawning. She was tired and thought about taking a quick nap, but she was far too busy for that. Instead, she slid her sword's sheath on her back and was in the process of standing up when someone walked in front of her and extended their hand. She looked up at the person with contempt and said, "You must be absolutely insane if you think I am going to even consider accepting your... paw."

Feeling proud and independent, she rejected him and stood to her feet on her own, waiting for a comeback.

Last Edit: Aug 25, 2012 22:32:02 GMT -5 by Glimmitch

Serena Crane - District 1
Chelsea Palmer - District 4

Peeta & Foxface - True love forever and always!

JokerMorrison
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last seen May 30, 2013 8:53:50 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 25, 2012 22:34:15 GMT -5

Post by JokerMorrison on Aug 25, 2012 22:34:15 GMT -5

Taking a sip of the strong, black coffee he holds protectively in his left hand, Patrick allows her words to linger in the air for a brief moment, before they ultimately die, in a gesture he hopes will be symbolic of just how powerful, important and wealthy he is, while reminding her that his presence here should be nothing short of an honour to her. Staring at her intensely, his stunning cobalt eyes attempt to peer into her on a spiritual level, past all of her obvious beauties and subtle imperfections, callously attempting to analyse her very soul, as if she is no longer a person to him as such, but more of a challenge.

Realising how awkward this must be making her, he allows himself a brief moment to smirk and let the warm feeling of release wash over him. Satisfied, he now sees her in a second, filthier light, and instead of a challenge, she becomes more like a piece of delectable meat, one which he is confident that he will be consuming soon. Returning to his other mission of draining his cup of its life essence, he takes another sip which instantaneously burns his mouth ever so slightly as the bitter liquid cascades down his throat, a sensation which he has come to depend upon as he depends upon his own self-perception; so beautiful, so essential, so stimulating, coffee is as relaxing and centering as the soft caress of his bed's red silk sheets and gives Patrick the effort and confidence to respond to this creature of equal beauty.

In a silky smooth baritone voice he retorts "It's really more of a claw sweetie, all the better to grope you with, if you catch my drift" before unleashing his horribly sarcastic, condescending chuckle. "I hope you have a name, otherwise I would have to just call you 'Beautiful', and I hate to lie, especially to a lovely... Pit-bull, such as yourself".

Peeta x Foxface - True Love Forever! - My OTP!
Patrick Wolfgang Morrison - District 1

Glimmitch
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Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 25, 2012 23:09:26 GMT -5

Post by Glimmitch on Aug 25, 2012 23:09:26 GMT -5

Although Serena had a perfectly placed smirk on her face, it soon faded when his condescension and arrogance hit her in the chest. There were several unlikable qualities about him: the smarmy smile for one, and the pretentious coffee cup held like a prop in his firm grasp, for two. Serena felt his piercing eyes gazing upon her, like concentrated laser beams penetrating her tough exterior to get to the treasure within.

'There is no way in Hell that this prick will get so much as an inch over me.'

Then he spoke. His words were nasty and cruel, which was only to be expected from such a person. This type of person was one who had little regard for his actions, let alone the consequences of them. From the first moment she heard him speak, she discovered everything she needed to know about him. Clearly, he was self absorbed and full of testosterone just oozing out of his pores. Nothing about him seemed genuine, not even his eyes, which was incredibly strange. Usually, the eyes were a gateway to one's soul, but in his case, you can't see what isn't there.

Taking a deep breath and preparing herself for yet another confrontation, she looked him directly in the eyes, not batting a single eyelash, and not hesitating once, as she began to speak in a tone all her own, filled with sweet venom and bitter honey, in a hasty attempt to prove her obvious superiority.

"Claw... how depressingly accurate," she says with the intention of being ambiguous, rolling her eyes at the childishness of his pathetic attempt at an insult. She giggles back at him, almost genuinely, her eyes showing trace amounts of excitement, as she attempts to shoot him down. "Pitbull? So says the toad. Perhaps I do have a name, but you will never find out what it is."

Last Edit: Aug 25, 2012 23:10:23 GMT -5 by Glimmitch

Serena Crane - District 1
Chelsea Palmer - District 4

Peeta & Foxface - True love forever and always!

JokerMorrison
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23 POSTS
last seen May 30, 2013 8:53:50 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 26, 2012 0:03:14 GMT -5

Post by JokerMorrison on Aug 26, 2012 0:03:14 GMT -5

Staring at her incredulously, his eyebrow raised in skepticism, Serena's angsty and confident response was almost enough to take Patrick aback, almost. Instinctively taking another deep swig from his coffee cup, one which calms and comforts him, Morrison quickly mulls over his feelings toward this infuriating, yet strangely intoxicating girl; just who was she? Is this worth the effort? And most importantly, could he succeed? Immediately he knew the answer and inwardly chastised himself for asking such a stupid rhetoric; yes, of course he could, and was sure that within very little time at all, she would be well within his grasp, and honestly, doesn't that make the conquest entirely worth it? Carnal desires aside, the opportunity to irritate and annoy this incredibly frustrating and very deserving girl was too amazing an opportunity to pass up.

Keeping his face neutral, and his eyes cold, there isn't a single identifiable emotion on Morrison's face, aside from a devilish smirk which he is unable to suppress when his arrogance and self-satisfaction utterly envelops him as he considers just how easily he believes will succeed in his conquest. His little game had begun, and already he found himself feeling a growing sense of excitement as to how he planned to play with this girl. What made it especially amusing was her attitude: so sarcastic, so conceited, how dare she? She has no idea just what she is in store for. Continuing his analysis of her soul, he noted that, in many ways, she was almost an exact mirror image of himself, and for that he found he despised her even more; yes, there were things they could find common ground on he was sure, but there could only be one as perfect and beautiful and intelligent as Patrick, and he particularly liked looking at him in the mirror.

"How very droll, and very wrong. No, I'm going to find out your name, and you're going to be the one to tell me" he sneered at her. "Tell me PB, do you like coffee? It's okay if you don't, just go with me here. I love coffee, wouldn't ever want to be without the stuff, to me it’s as essential as breathing. It’s stimulating and it keeps you sharp, not to mention the fact that coffee is a drink meant to be consumed with your sweetheart, or at least it is in my opinion, how many times have you heard a lonely heart ask another if they want to "go for coffee"? Exactly, so when I walk around with this cup, it not only reminds me who my sweetheart is: me, but is also a sage-like reminder of who I am. Walking with this cup, I remember just who I am, being an exceedingly dark, wealthy and busy individual. But now, I look down at this murky, cold cup of black coffee, and I am reminded of you; dark, bitter, unappetising, and a little hard to swallow, but you are still nonetheless here, and I still want you. I bet, underneath all of that bitter facade, just like this cold coffee I'm nursing here, you're as smooth and delicate as velvet, care to give me a taste sweetie?"

Peeta x Foxface - True Love Forever! - My OTP!
Patrick Wolfgang Morrison - District 1

Glimmitch
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Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 26, 2012 9:29:19 GMT -5

Post by Glimmitch on Aug 26, 2012 9:29:19 GMT -5

The color drains from Serena's beautiful face, making it all the more pale and smooth, and her smirk dropping upon hearing his hurtful, and most definitely needless words. There was no particular reason why Serena deserved this, she didn't even know him. They hadn't gone to school together, they weren't former training buddies, they weren't anything, but at the rate things were going, they were bound to end up something. The question is, what will become of these two strangers? If Serena has her way, nothing.

With all the hate and disgust she can muster, Serena sharply turns to him, shooting into the void of his soul with her intense steel blue eyes and hesitantly continues to take in his words, even though they are highly offensive and lacking any real relevance. His pretense and arrogance astounds, if not amuses her in a way she couldn't dream of describing. Perhaps it is because he is similar to her own self, just more brash and far more childishly irritating. Where Serena preferred the soft humming of silence and the calming serenity of being alone, he seemed to hate it, maybe boiling down to unresolved feelings of abandonment? Serena didn't have the right to judge or attempt a psychological profile, but as he spoke, she couldn't help but doing it anyway. Despite everything, she was still listening to him, even though she knew it wouldn't be in her best interest.

When he is finally finished with his overly theatrical analogy, she inhales deeply and rolls her eyes at him, matching his theatricality with intense sarcasm.
“You're wrong,” Serena kept her voice calm and even, although it proved incredibly difficult. All she wanted to do was scream at him! ”That was the biggest, lamest, most ridiculous pile of bull that I've ever had the displeasure of listening to.”

Smirking, with a familiar air of her usual confidence that has displayed itself when she needed it the most, she takes a step closer to him and gives him a snarky smile, demonstrating that she too can be feisty when the situation calls.

”You see, coffee isn't the drink of sweethearts. It's the drink of shallowness and distance. One doesn't suggest, 'Let's go for a cup of coffee,' to someone they intend on seeing again. How mundane, how very cheap of you. No, but instead, you tell that distant relative or that clingy-as-super glue acquaintance to go for coffee, as it requires no effort or emotion. Then again, you wouldn't understand anything about effort and emotions, would you?”

Serena looks down at the cup of coffee that he holds in his hand and lightly sets her hand on the top. When she pulls her hand back, the lid pops off in her palm and she licks it from top to bottom, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

”Oh, and I despise coffee.”

With that being said, Serena quickly hits up on the bottom of the cup, sending lukewarm coffee through the air and landing on the once very clean shirt of this stranger. She smirks and begins to walk away from him, swaying her hips arrogantly, taunting him on his defeat. Or so she thought.

Last Edit: Aug 26, 2012 9:32:56 GMT -5 by Glimmitch

Serena Crane - District 1
Chelsea Palmer - District 4

Peeta & Foxface - True love forever and always!

JokerMorrison
Seam Resident

23 POSTS
last seen May 30, 2013 8:53:50 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 26, 2012 18:05:45 GMT -5

Post by JokerMorrison on Aug 26, 2012 18:05:45 GMT -5

Momentarily watching the swaying figure of the brazen temptress before him, Patrick, though he wouldn't admit it to her, felt somewhat amused. Yes, he was filthy thanks to that harlot and her cheap tactics, and that would undoubtedly cause the eternal scorching abyss of his rage to rise within him, but for now, the mere thought of what she did, standing up to him, caused the corners of his lips to contort slightly and drag into an almost real smile, no matter how hard he tried to resist. He hated to admit it, but she amused him, and was undeniably entrancing, but for that matter, so was he, and within that thought, he managed to find his own unique personal form of serenity; it was all a part of his emotional game, he was the dominant one here, and she would be the one to fall victim to his charms here.

Silently he willed her to not look back, not wanting her to see a nearly actual smile of his, that would make him vulnerable to her, and then the game would already be over. For now, he would attempt to maintain a somewhat taciturn, quietly intense manner, radiating the natural mystique and enigmatic charms he was sure he had. Inwardly he philosophised that, with his lack of movement and obvious silence, she would wonder why he said nothing to her, why he didn't even bother to chase her, and realise just how little she seemingly meant to him; someone that arrogant (though not as arrogant as him) would obsess over something so insignificant, and let it eat them alive, as he was sure she would do the same. Thus, he was more than happy to let her to leave for now, it was all a part of his plan, as he knew it would only increase her fascination with him, and soon she would be begging for his attention, not to mention begging for more. With feelings of ultimate release encompassing him, he relaxed slightly, feeling a warm sensation within as his tension apparently melted away, he knew how beautiful and important he was, or would be, to her and for now, could just enjoy the view of her hips swaying rhythmically. He knew full well why she did it, probably a pathetic attempt to taunt him, but the fact that he could find his own pleasure in this action, obviously not her main intentions, only contributed further to his release, and combined with everything else, was enough, for now, to suppress any sadistic rage which threatened to overflow, until he smelled it.

Its not that he despised the scent of coffee, in fact he loved it, it relaxed him, brought him joy and even excitement, at the knowledge that soon that boiling liquid would be cascading down his throat and into his heart, metaphorically speaking that is. It was the very essence that kept him trudging through the pain of life, and to see it insulted and besmirched in such a way was absolutely unforgivable, almost as if that harpy had reached into his very soul and tore away all that which was him. That is why he loathed the smell, and feeling, of the coffee staining him so intensely, and felt as though he had just been drenched with cold vomit; there needed to be restitutions made for this insult to him, for the fact that she ruined his perfect visage, for the fact that he now had to feel as dirty as, well, her! Though it sacrificed his excellent view, he needed to go after her, and in a few swift steps, ones which promptly dirtied his immaculately polished loafers, he caught up to her and, empty coffee cup still in hand, placed his arm directly around her shoulder.

"Well my, my PB, I've never seen such self-loathing in an individual before. Oh, and I understand emotions perfectly well, I just don't like them!" and in an action exemplifying the idiom that actions speak louder than words, Morrison promptly dumps the remaining cold coffee within over her chest. Smirking widely, he instantly turns to her, his voice dripping with sarcasm and arrogance as he says "Oh my, clumsy me, I've been just as clumsy as you PB! Here let me help you clean that off!" before promptly aiming both claws for her now wet chest.

Peeta x Foxface - True Love Forever! - My OTP!
Patrick Wolfgang Morrison - District 1

Glimmitch
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last seen Nov 23, 2012 2:55:32 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 26, 2012 20:22:01 GMT -5

Post by Glimmitch on Aug 26, 2012 20:22:01 GMT -5

Regret weighs heavily on Serena's heart, as she recalls every second of her brief, yet memorable encounter with the handsome, yet horrible stranger that she's dubbed mentally as 'Joe,' since he is nothing but a mystery to her. She couldn't quite grasp why he took such an interest in her in the first place, she was a nobody with nothing to offer him. So why did he choose her to berate?

A smirk finds its way to her lips when she assesses the possibilities. 'He must want me really badly.' It takes Serena her entire being to keep her focused and prevent her from turning around so that she can gloat about her victory. One second ago, she felt guilty, but now, she feels on top of the world. She feels like a valuable commodity, something which if she said outloud would anger every feminist ever born, though she often proclaims to be one herself.

Her arrogance reaches an all time high, and she struts with an added sense of superiority, knowing in her heart that no matter what just happened, he will follow her, because, well, although a dog knows that its his tail he's chasing, he still will chase it out of principle. Although she knows that was awful of her to think, she can get away with it, because she bested him. Right?

She smiles to herself, until she feels the pressure of an arm over her shoulder and hears the booming voice of the stranger pierce directly into her ear canal. She jumps as a reflex, but it unintentionally lurches her further into his body, which, is strangely exciting and stimulating.

"Well my, my PB, I've never seen such self-loathing in an individual before. Oh, and I understand emotions perfectly well, I just don't like them!"

She looks down at her shirt just in time to watch the thick, cold coffee pour down her top and over her chest. She gasps in surprise and frantically attempts to wipe it from her chest with her hands, which only serves to make her hands sticky. In his silken voice, he says "Oh my, clumsy me, I've been just as clumsy as you PB! Here let me help you clean that off!"

Serena looked up at him in horror and swatted away his hands, showing for the first time, one of her valuable skills, her quickness. The last thing she intended to do was let him see anything about who she is, but it's too late.

“Don't touch me! Who are you to... to...” Serena trails off, looking down at the ground and she emits a chuckle. It's a sweet, genuine laugh, which she wishes she wasn't capable of creating. “You are a real jackass, you know that? I don't even know you, and I hate you so much! I have never seen someone so self-aggrandizing, so pathetic! You're nothing more than a trust fund brat who has nothing better to do than to create trouble for a random stranger... I think it's time for the inevitable...”

Serena slowly and dramatically reaches for her sword, staring intensely into the abyss of this stranger's eyes.

Serena Crane - District 1
Chelsea Palmer - District 4

Peeta & Foxface - True love forever and always!

JokerMorrison
Seam Resident

23 POSTS
last seen May 30, 2013 8:53:50 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 27, 2012 17:52:25 GMT -5

Post by JokerMorrison on Aug 27, 2012 17:52:25 GMT -5

Her biting, poignant words almost fall on deaf ears as, while she unleashes the sum of her frustration, it’s all Patrick can do to stop himself from bursting into a bout of raucous laughter. It was so hilarious, just how seriously she took him and his advances, adorable even. How could he do anything but laugh at her, not to mention laugh at her pointless, and downright pathetic, attempts at insults. Nevertheless, the seriousness was a good thing as, believing himself to be an expert reader of people, he began to hypothesize that this could only mean excellent things for him; to him it meant that she was being emotionally open with him, that she must respect him enough as an individual to expect much more dignified behaviour from him. It meant that she wanted more, she wanted him! Plus she looked cute when she was angry.

Any other time he would smile, and scoff, confident that he had the upper-hand and was winning the little game they were playing. Any other time he would begin another verbose diatribe where he would, while subtly insulting her with his incredibly acerbic wit, attempt to turn on the charm and slide his way into her heart, not to mention her pants. But, amazingly, the movement that caught Morrison's eye, and caused him to look up, left the motor-mouth speechless, at least for now and, just knowing that there would be plenty of time for all of his antics later, acted quickly and jumped at the raging beauty before him. In one desperate, yet surprisingly fluid motion, Morrison managed to steal the sword away, unsheathing it and pulling it away from her before she could draw it and presumably hurt him, a lot. Finally, channelling the spirit of the Dread Pirate Roberts, Morrison theatrically holds the sword in front of him in the en-garde position, feebly attempting to persuade the woman before him that he was in control, and someone to be feared.

In attempt to maintain his composure, Morrison begins with his usual sarcasm, "Uh-uh! Now what's a sweet little girl like you doing with a big thing like this? Don't you know you could get hurt, good thing I was here to help you, right?", and already, after one sardonic comment, he could feel his confidence growing, he was in control and now, in realising that, he knew that there were much more important things to address, such as the important matter of his beauty, and how she disgustingly attempted to tarnish it! Waving the sword at her in a way he assumed would be somewhat threatening (what did he care, his forte was knives, and anyway he was the guy with the sword), he began to condescend to her in his usual half-silky, half-threatening manner.

"You wanted to hurt this, you wanted to hurt this! How could you? Just look at my face, there are thousands of women out there who would do anything to get a piece of this, what did you say? 'Trust-fund brat'? Really? You called me a 'trust-fund brat'?" Pretending as though her words about his nature as a 'trust-fund brat' had cut him deeply, Morrison opens his mouth in faux shock and puts his head down slightly, making obviously overzealous crying noises, still careful to keep the sword elevated just in-case. "Fine, fine" he begins, acting as though his words will unleash some profound revelation, "You cut me deep and you got me; you know my dirty little secret", and after an agonisingly long pause to build tension, he smirks, "I am The Batman! Boy, felt good to get that one off my chest." Almost knowing how badly she would react to his words, he holds the sword up straight and continues "No, no, no, I'm the one with the sword, so you will stand there and listen to every wonderful little thing I have to say PB... Okay, this isn't working, let's take this party in another direction; I have an expensive sports car and tonnes of money, that do anything for you? Nothing? Come on, gimme something here darlin', you're like a statue PB!", before winking and smirking at the creature before him.

Last Edit: Aug 27, 2012 18:02:09 GMT -5 by JokerMorrison

Peeta x Foxface - True Love Forever! - My OTP!
Patrick Wolfgang Morrison - District 1

Glimmitch
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last seen Nov 23, 2012 2:55:32 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 27, 2012 18:53:54 GMT -5

Post by Glimmitch on Aug 27, 2012 18:53:54 GMT -5

Serena can't hide her shock, as it is written in every aspect of her face, her facade broken and the real Serena Crane appears: The lost, helpless, terrified girl from District 1 who is angsty by day, but lonely by night. Her eyes change from focused to soft in the blink of an eye, as she watches her most prized possession in the perfectly manicured hands of this stranger pointing directly into her throat, which could be construed as symbolism that her lifestyle will be her downfall, or some other feeble attempt at poetry. Serena's eyes, although not as focused as they previously were, lock onto her beautifully crafted sword, made of fine black steel, which has a series of jagged curves down the entire 31 inches of the shining blade and she begins to envision the steel sliding into her delicate neck and ripping it apart.

As if someone flipped a switch, she turns from mournful to angry and her eyes slowly scale back up to his, watching them for anything out of the ordinary, waiting for him to strike. Her natural instincts tell her that this is going to be another fight, but something else tells her that he wants her to be frightened. She can't let him win, it would be signing away her soul, something which she wasn't prepared to do for the guy who had everything. As serious about fighting that Serena is, this guy seems just as resolute to have her attention. 'That's it right? He wants my attention. He's full of hot air. He isn't willing to take this to a physical level, not like I am.'

She sighs, rolling her eyes to make sure that he doesn't misconceive her actions for acknowledging defeat, but instead lets him know that she is disgusted with his childishness. After all, she's not afraid of dying, she's afraid that he'll hurt her precious 'Nightshade.'

“Dickhole, I don't care about your vanity, and I most certainly do not give a single fuck that you have shallow, empty headed women at your disposal! Is your life that meaningless? That you feel the need to get cheap thrills from an even cheaper trinket that you picked up on the corner of Broadway and Tenth? If you think for one minute that I am going to be the next caricature of intimacy to add to your scrapbook, then you are dead wrong.

Her eyes, as unchanging as the sea, continue to stare into his, as she slowly offers out her hand, hoping that he will relinquish her sword and she can have her life back so she can move on and continue out her lonely existence. Although she'd never admit it, she will never forget this handsome, yet horrible stranger, and a large part of her will miss his company. Why? Because he is the only one in the world that is as blunt as she is, and the two would look great as a duo on paper. Despite all of this, she hates him just as much as she hates herself.

“Now, please... spare me the pain of being in your company and give me back my sword. Unlike you, I value my possessions, and this one... just happens to be my favorite.”

Serena Crane - District 1
Chelsea Palmer - District 4

Peeta & Foxface - True love forever and always!

JokerMorrison
Seam Resident

23 POSTS
last seen May 30, 2013 8:53:50 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 27, 2012 21:00:28 GMT -5

Post by JokerMorrison on Aug 27, 2012 21:00:28 GMT -5

There is nothing, the universe is a meaningless entity which fades away. All surroundings become nothing but a melted ashen blur of peripheral vision and there is nothing, no feeling, no emotions, no sound but the deafening sounds of his heartbeat growing ever more rapid and the increased heaviness of his breathing as he grows ever more excited. Momentarily his eyes go dead and he is blinded by a brilliant white as his sadistic urges consume him. His lips twitch and repeatedly part, displaying a horrific grin only hinting at the truly appalling intentions Patrick holds inside. Violent, malicious thoughts race through his mind, all connected to the brilliant masterpiece he holds to his next conquest's neck: how easy it would be to cut her head off! What would the fountain of blood look like? What would it be like to destroy her soul? Wouldn't this add meaning?

Then reality takes a hold, and all of his silent sadistic urges suppress as the realisation of his desires and intentions sets in, and though he may not consciously identify it, he can feel guilt crushing him. While the majority of his thoughts thus far may have revolved around what she may look like underneath him, or alternately what the back of her head looks like as it moves towards and then away from him, or, regrettably, what her decapitated and bloody corpse may look like, she has nonetheless generated something within him which no one else had, emotion. Not all of them may have been positive, but regardless they were real, and that was an undeniable achievement. Admittedly, although he always claimed to despise these feelings, like they were interesting to him, and he appreciated her ability to stimulate him, she was the first in far too long. How could he wish to destroy that? It was disgusting of him, to ruin the one good thing to have entered his life for what felt like an eternity. Yes, in many ways he hated how she made him feel, but was still aware of its importance!

Finally becoming self aware, Morrison realises that, as a result of his inner turmoil and anguish, his usual facade has faltered; he is no longer smirking, his eyes have lost their twinkle and charm, and he holds himself awkwardly, betraying his rage. He has become vulnerable to her. Was this necessarily a bad thing? Perhaps he could declare his true feelings for her now, whatever they were, and let her know just how much she interested him, and how he appreciated her presence. But tragically that would betray the reputation as the tall, dark and handsome man of mystery he attempted to build to entice her; he needed a snarky response, and quick, and thinking rapidly he managed to respond with "I value my possessions, I love things, in fact, after today, you are my new favourite play thing PB".

Perfect, well almost. It was serviceable, not wit of Oscar Wilde level brilliance, but at least he could feel safe in the knowledge that his precious mask of beauty hadn't slipped for now. With that being said, she wasn't stupid, she had already established that, and would undoubtedly have realised something unconsciously, if not consciously. There needed to be a way to distract her, it needed to be something huge, something that would blind her with anger; he needed to push the boundaries once more, and challenge her expectations of what he would do. The idea was almost right in front of him, it was magnificent in its simplicity and would work perfectly! In one quick, beautiful moment he tossed her sword in the air, catching it by the handle, before swiftly launching forward and clonking her in the forehead with the butt of the sword.

Last Edit: Aug 27, 2012 21:06:27 GMT -5 by JokerMorrison

Peeta x Foxface - True Love Forever! - My OTP!
Patrick Wolfgang Morrison - District 1

Glimmitch
Seam Resident

37 POSTS
last seen Nov 23, 2012 2:55:32 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 27, 2012 21:38:33 GMT -5

Post by Glimmitch on Aug 27, 2012 21:38:33 GMT -5

'This is it Serena, this is how you're going to die. Your arrogance, your wit, your mouth, it's going to have bit off far too much to chew this time. You've picked a fight with someone you shouldn't have, and now, you're going to pay dearly for it, with your life'

This is her reaction to seeing his dead, emotionless eyes. Serena could see the hate, the vacantness of his incredibly intense eyes and she mentally cursed herself for getting into such a position. How could she? She is Serena Crane, not some easy harlot or some doormat. She is a strong and independent woman, she can fight and she can win. Hopefully, it won't get to that stage.

Though mentally preparing herself for a fight, her eyes still resembled those of a doe helplessly caught in a pair of bright headlights. Her hands tighten into two fierce fists, trembling at her sides from the effort she is putting into making them. Well, if he cut her head off, at least she could know that it was her own sword that did it, the only one worthy of being coated in her blood. Then again, the thought of her blood being caked on Nightshade made her feel queasy and weak. Her mind was racing with thoughts of her corpse littering the sidewalk, and then, Nightshade being snapped in half and lost, thoughts of her mother and father, and her ex-boyfriend, who this stranger seemed to resemble physically. She was too occupied with thoughts to notice that her opponent too had softened slightly, and let his guard down for a mere moment in time.

"I value my possessions, I love things, in fact, after today, you are my new favourite play thing PB."

'What?! I am NOBODY'S plaything. I'll show you plaything if it's the last thing I ever do. You'll reg-'

Serena's thoughts are cut off when she felt the unforgiving smash of Nightshade's hilt into the hard, yet soft section of her forehead between the eyes and above the nose. A groan of agony emerges from her lips and she bends slightly in the middle so that she can bring her hands up to her face. His action caught her completely off guard, and it sparked a fire within her that she feared may never be extinguished. With a rage that she's never encountered before and a tone laced with enough venom to take down a bull elephant, she hisses, “I am going to kill you, you son of a bitch! You are going to regret everything!”

With the quickness of a cheetah, she leaps at him, her fist flying in the direction of his nose, hoping to have a critical impact on his 'oh so important' face, her intention to make him as damaged on the outside as he is on the inside.

Last Edit: Aug 27, 2012 21:39:40 GMT -5 by Glimmitch

Serena Crane - District 1
Chelsea Palmer - District 4

Peeta & Foxface - True love forever and always!

JokerMorrison
Seam Resident

23 POSTS
last seen May 30, 2013 8:53:50 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 28, 2012 13:03:14 GMT -5

Post by JokerMorrison on Aug 28, 2012 13:03:14 GMT -5

Well this was certainly shocking, not the punch though. Well, that was certainly shocking to him too, but in the brief moment when the scorned beauty before him declared her intention to harm him, as a torrent of thoughts raged within his mind, one of the single most shocking, and hilarious, was how that useless career school had now proved itself handy. Always confident in the knowledge that, should he be reaped, someone would volunteer in his stead, Morrison always considered the academy itself irrelevant, a waste of time which completely impeded on time which could be better spent doing more important things such as getting manicures, treating himself to the latest shiny product for sale, pursuing romantic conquests or, well, just wasting time. But now, as this lethal temptress threw a vicious punch at him, he was slightly grateful to the teachers who irritated him so, and chastised him repeatedly, as perhaps somewhere in the lectures he actually managed to attend, and barely listened to, maybe they were able to instil him with some knowledge of what to do in such a situation. Really, it was surprising that it took this long for someone to take a shot at Patrick, perhaps it was his complacency, brought on by extreme arrogance, which allowed him to be caught so off guard. Luckily for him, he instinctively reacted in a way his teachers would be proud of, and rolled with the punch, turning a brutal, blunt punch into a slightly less brutal, blunt punch.

Throwing himself backwards from her, throwing the sword behind him, and grabbing his face with both hands and groaning in over exaggerated pain, as though he had just been struck in the face with a jackhammer and needed to protect his beauty from further harm, the thoughts of career school disappeared from his mind completely, and Patrick found himself thinking only one thing, how could she? How could she wish to tarnish his perfection like that! Her disgusting intentions seemed somehow familiar though, it was like he had seen them before and then he realised where, she wished to damage him like he had wished to damage her. Maybe he was looking into it too much, desperate for someone with substance to end his isolation, but he felt as though they were somehow connected, and how could she wish to hurt someone she was connected to so profoundly. Yes, he had hit her, well really it was more of a feather tap, but when he did it, it was cute, it was flirtatious, it had meaning, could she not see that? Could she not see what she was doing? Admittedly, to ask that rhetoric was incredibly hypocritical of him, as the general intention of his actions was that she wouldn't see what he was doing, but still, she could have surely realized that he had far deeper intentions than simply hurting her, or did she think that little of him? Honestly, what did she think he was? What did it matter what she thought? Her opinion meant nothing to him anyway, and yet she was getting to him! Regardless, as loathed as he was to admit it, it seemed as though this game, and their connection was over, and perhaps he should just give up on this one.

However, maybe all was not lost, perhaps he wasn't as vulnerable to her as it first seemed, and there may just be a slim chance for him to win this game. He just needed to maintain the enigmatic arrogance which seemed to fascinate her so, at least enough to generate real emotion within her, and become as arrogant, shallow and self-centred as his reputation dictates. No longer will he be distracted inside by emotions and feelings, no longer would he be a person in this conversation; instead he would become the emotionless, darkly charismatic entity he has always conveyed himself to be. Tragically, he knew inside that he was probably making it worse for himself, but there seemed to be little other options available to him, he could be honest with her, he could be a nice guy, but that just wasn't his style, instead he would rather continue his self-destructive cycle which would undoubtedly leave him isolated and empty inside, but at least to those around him he would appear to be something of a suave, devil-may-care rogue, and so long as they, and she, thought of him as being fulfilled, or desirable, or just simply thought of him, then that would be enough, right? But for any of his flawed logic to work, he needed to first assure that his reputation was maintained, perhaps he could make some sort of vastly condescending comment? Whatever he was to do, he needed to do it quick, as he realised, to his horror, that he was busy groaning in pain, looking weak, looking vulnerable, looking human.

Priding himself on his incredibly quick wit, as well as his ability to think on his toes, Morrison opted to use his current position, with both hands firmly clasped on his face, to his advantage. Mustering up the shrillest, most overzealous cry possible as part of his acerbic, sarcastic joke, Morrison screams "I'm melting, MELTING!" Then looks up, making eye contact with his attacker, and in the silkiest, most patronizing voice possible spits "You thought that hurt PB? Oh, you're adorable", despite the obvious red mark where her fist bluntly connected, before quickly picking up her sword and using her own tactic against her; proudly striding away in the opposite direction, just sure that she would follow him.

Last Edit: Aug 28, 2012 13:10:20 GMT -5 by JokerMorrison

Peeta x Foxface - True Love Forever! - My OTP!
Patrick Wolfgang Morrison - District 1

Glimmitch
Seam Resident

37 POSTS
last seen Nov 23, 2012 2:55:32 GMT -5

Peace and Serena-ty {JokerMorrison & Glimmitch} Aug 28, 2012 20:20:20 GMT -5

Post by Glimmitch on Aug 28, 2012 20:20:20 GMT -5

Okay, maybe she was a bit hasty in her actions. Maybe punching a stranger wasn't exactly the best approach, but she wanted him to learn that nobody is above the law, no matter how much money or how handsome they are.

'He can't just... what did he even do so wrong in the first place? Flirt with me? Follow me? He can't just... Forget it.'

At the end of the day, Serena was in the wrong first, and perhaps that's what stopped her from unleashing yet another deadly punch to this devilishly handsome face before her. Because she knew she was wrong. After all, she was the one who started to insult him first, before he even said anything, for that matter.

'Yeah but... he was disgusting! He tried to get me to sleep with him!'

By all of her actions, she should be the one with the growing bruise on her cheekbone, not him. Oh wait, what is that throbbing? It's the dull ache from where he hit her with Nightshade. She remains completely still aside from the rapid contracting and releasing of her lungs trying to overcompensate for the adrenaline rushing throughout her body. Her mind races to thoughts of hate and rage, but also to thoughts of guilt and remorse. Serena's mind and heart tell her two different things, conflicting her with the notions of what's right and wrong, and feeding her other solutions to her problem. Sure, he is a despicable being, but so was she, and for that reason, the two share something in common. In fact, they share a lot in common. Serena is arrogant, born out of self-loathing and loneliness, and so is her handsome interloper. Taking another approach, the two both share large, red welts on their face from the other's hand and have dried coffee down the front of them, smelling heavily of the bittersweet liquid. They go together like peanut butter and jelly, or PB&J if you'd rather, which is quite coincidental when considering their nicknames for the other. Serena can't help but grimace upon that realization.

Once more, he patronizes her with his rapier-like wit and quick jabs, causing her to see red once more. Then, he does something unexpected. He leaves. Well, in retrospect, it's not unexpected. She did proclaim her intentions to kill him, as hollow as they may be. She watches him taunt her by stealing her sword! And it really, really infuriated her. This time, her anger is more composed, and just happens to manifest itself in her next line of dialogue, which, doesn't seem like much, but when its analyzed, could tarnish everything she ever worked to establish. Serena's darkly sweet voice rings out, following after him, “I'm not going to let you get away!”

Serena watches as Joe walks into a crowd of people. She screams after him to stop, but he doesn't. Her eyes desperately scan the crowd for him, but he's lost within. She feels her back, hoping that somehow, magically, that her precious Nightshade would still be attached to her, but he isn't. Her protector, her life, it's gone. She promises to herself that she will not eat or sleep until she has found him and taken back what is rightfully hers.

Serena Crane - District 1
Chelsea Palmer - District 4

Peeta & Foxface - True love forever and always!