i'm terrible at names for threads (gorim)

Ah, it's good to be alive. That's what I thought as I walked jauntily down the street, drinking in the fresh morning air and the sun beaming down cheerfully on the steel and glass and white rock streets of District One. I really did love District One. It was my home since birth, and when blood flows down the streets, it looks so clean. I'm a monster, but a very clean one. I like to finish what I start.

Cinna Urden, local career and psychopath. While the rearing of being a career made my life slightly more interesting than usual, I was still bored very often. What to do, what to do? That was often passing through my mind. Recently, I'd joined a gang called The Untouchables, but they were weak, pitiful little things. I was torn between joining any of the other three gangs. The Prestige had a strong leader, but so did Fringe. But I eventually settled for the Westside Marauders. For now, at least.

I was such a new gang member that none of the Marauders even knew I was now an ally. If I passed one now, they'd probably feel obligated to attack. All well and fine for me.

I turned down an alleyway and stopped, slightly surprised. In the street was at least twelves bodies, bloody and still warm, and in the center of it all was a red haired man perhaps a year or two older than myself. I smirked.

OOC: Him? Cinna Urden is a girl. A very pretty girl too. A pretty obvious girl, if you catch my drift.

BIC: I dodge the wild blow fairly easy, though it's speed was something to admire. I skip back a few steps and mime a yawn.

"Boring. If you're a career, you should be ashamed of that blow. So easy to read; so brash and obvious." I said teasingly. "You're never going to beat a life-long career with a messy stance like that."

I threw myself at the ground as he pulled the trigger. As fun as it was to fight with a psychopath, I found it a bit distasteful to fight fire with knives, so I got up and, throwing a knife as I did so, doubled back towards the Marauders HQ, for some back up. This guy was bad news.

Brittany Urqhart, Grower for the Marauders, walked merrily down the street, a gun in her bag and a packet of drugs in her pocket, ready to sell.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire echoed through the silence and a tall albino woman ran down the street, blood flowing from a wound on her arm.

"Cinna!" Brittany chirped, throwing her arm out and clothes-lining the significantly larger woman on her thin little arm. "And Zack! Cool; you met our newest member!" She beamed at them both. "Crack?" She drew out a bag of crack and waved it at both of them.

OOC: Weirdo....

Cinna glared. "You never specified who 'us' was, Genius." She snapped. Brittany giggled.

"He's crazy," she said with a snicker. "He's like Dexter from those books, only he's not as nice and not as pretty."

Cinna ignored her coolly and surveyed Zack with blatant interest. "Still, that was impressive." However, she ignored his hand.

Cinna rolled her eyes. "I don't waste time with useless fights," she said coolly. "Particularly for money. Only males desperate to prove their superiority do such things." Brittany grinned.

"You got burned, Zack."

"And I order you to stop acting foolish," Cinna said coldly. "Do you have no shame? In the middle of the busiest district in Panem, you think you have the right to give an idiotic order and attack a fellow. I only thank God not all men act like you."

Brittany said, "Ooooooo," and grinned fiercely.