//You'll Push Me For The Last Time// [Cici & Kolo]
Jan 26, 2013 20:53:37 GMT -5
Post by Wispy on Jan 26, 2013 20:53:37 GMT -5
You tell me think about it.
Well I did.
Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore.
I'm tiered of begging for the things that I want.
I'm over sleeping like a dog on the floor.
Well I did.
Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore.
I'm tiered of begging for the things that I want.
I'm over sleeping like a dog on the floor.
Over the past few days I've been stalking the Stealth station, if that makes any sense. I watch how some tributes slunk into bushes and try to make themselves small behind a tree. All with the silence of an elephant marching through a heavily wooded forest. In the arena, they'd be easy to spot. There have been many a times when I've stolen money from someones pocket, or a loaf of bread from an unsuspecting vendor back home. There have also been days where that little piece of bread, or that last bit of stolen money meant the difference between seeing the sun again or being in the ground. But in the arena, what good might that do me, exactly? I'm small and quiet, yes, but can I get close enough to someone before they chop my head off?
I make my way over to the Blades station and pick up some knives that just about everyone seemed to neglect. The hilt feels good in my palm and it's almost natural the way it curves to the form of my hand. There's a little red button next to a sign that says 'targets' and I press it. Immediately a target shaped like a person springs from the floor. I do my best to remember the forms I've learned for throwing and my first shot lands on the far left shoulder. Dammit. I was aiming for the chest. I clench my teeth and throw the next knife a little harder. It makes a thick sound as the blade digs into the wood right around the center of the neck. Again, meant for the chest. Did I mention I wasn't a good sport? I grip the last knife tighter and whale it harder than the last two. The blade sticks out on the other side of the targets forehead and then there's a snap.
My fists are no longer clenched and I feel my frustration just melt away into utter disbelief as the targets head snaps off. I panic. My mind starts running a mile a minute. Am I aloud to do that? Do I need to fix it? Did someone see me do that? Am I in trouble? What if I just... Calmed down, Surely they expected stuff like this to happen? I walk over to the target. One foot after the other and try to look as casual as possible. If I have the others thinking this isn't normal, they'll immediately single me out as an easy target. But if I act like a career, they'll see me as a threat and try to get rid of me sooner than I'd like.
I jerk the first two knives from the target and bend over for the decapitated head. The knife releases smoothly and I look through the little slit in the wood. My anger issues just might save my life. But how can I get worked up enough to use it accordingly? I do my best to sit the head back onto it's stump and when it clicks into place, I quickly set the knives down and walk away. Maybe I should spend some time in the First Aid station...
I make my way over to the Blades station and pick up some knives that just about everyone seemed to neglect. The hilt feels good in my palm and it's almost natural the way it curves to the form of my hand. There's a little red button next to a sign that says 'targets' and I press it. Immediately a target shaped like a person springs from the floor. I do my best to remember the forms I've learned for throwing and my first shot lands on the far left shoulder. Dammit. I was aiming for the chest. I clench my teeth and throw the next knife a little harder. It makes a thick sound as the blade digs into the wood right around the center of the neck. Again, meant for the chest. Did I mention I wasn't a good sport? I grip the last knife tighter and whale it harder than the last two. The blade sticks out on the other side of the targets forehead and then there's a snap.
My fists are no longer clenched and I feel my frustration just melt away into utter disbelief as the targets head snaps off. I panic. My mind starts running a mile a minute. Am I aloud to do that? Do I need to fix it? Did someone see me do that? Am I in trouble? What if I just... Calmed down, Surely they expected stuff like this to happen? I walk over to the target. One foot after the other and try to look as casual as possible. If I have the others thinking this isn't normal, they'll immediately single me out as an easy target. But if I act like a career, they'll see me as a threat and try to get rid of me sooner than I'd like.
I jerk the first two knives from the target and bend over for the decapitated head. The knife releases smoothly and I look through the little slit in the wood. My anger issues just might save my life. But how can I get worked up enough to use it accordingly? I do my best to sit the head back onto it's stump and when it clicks into place, I quickly set the knives down and walk away. Maybe I should spend some time in the First Aid station...
So sick of waiting
I don't want this anymore
The thought of you is no f***ing fun
You want a martyr
I'll be one...
I don't want this anymore
The thought of you is no f***ing fun
You want a martyr
I'll be one...
