the physical scars aren't what hurt}} open

Lookie
Seam Resident

12 POSTS
last seen Sept 14, 2013 14:38:29 GMT -5

I'm the weaver of nightmares, taking all your dreams and wrapping them up with spiderwebs

the physical scars aren't what hurt}} open Mar 12, 2013 21:28:50 GMT -5

Post by Lookie on Mar 12, 2013 21:28:50 GMT -5

the physical scars aren't what hurt
they just sit in my skin
telling stories of past horrors

Standing in the water, Peninsula had stopped working for a second to stare at the beautiful colors of the sunrise. She wondered how there could be such beauty in a world that seemed so... broken. It hurt her heart to see this everyday, just because many tributes in the Hunger Games died before they could even see the first sunrise in the arena. They didn't even get to see any beauty before they died, most of them being the ones who died in the bloodbath.

She sighed and shook her head. "Nope, not even going to think about it," she wondered aloud, watching the sun for a few more seconds, before returning to her job, letting her silent tears fall and mix with the sea water it had many likenesses with.

the emotional scars are the ones that hurt
they stay invisible to most
and they give me the choice to tell others of my trauma

Verbal, Lord of The Dreadfort
Merchant

[M:-1200]

282 POSTS

last seen Jan 27, 2015 20:11:23 GMT -5

Knowledge of trees is treason.

the physical scars aren't what hurt}} open Mar 18, 2013 14:58:09 GMT -5

Post by Verbal, Lord of The Dreadfort on Mar 18, 2013 14:58:09 GMT -5

Floating in the water and staring at the sunrise at dawn was one of my favorite things to do, which is why I was doing it today. I didn't worry about sharks too much, as even the games were more likely to kill you than the average shark was. Besides, I always had much more in common with the sharks in the water than I did with the humans back on land.

It was a nice get away from my parents, and from my life. I would have to be at work soon anyway, so I always woke up a bit early to have some alone time. That was shattered when I saw a girl near the waterline, sitting back and enjoying the scenery. She didn't seem to notice me, but seemed to mumble something to herself before getting up to return to town. Funny, I hadn't seen her around before...

I shrugged it off and closed my one open eye again, just continuing to bob around with my hands behind my head, my body nearly completely inverted.

I had to go to work too.

I sighed deeply and returned to the empty shore, retrieving my shirt before heading back into town.

Credit to Stare

Credit for both Gaff and Linus' tribute token designs and templates goes exclusively to the wonderful Cass!

"God creates dinosaurs, God destroys dinosaurs, God creates man, man destroys God, man creates dinosaurs..."

Your face. My size twenty-four boot.

Lookie
Seam Resident

12 POSTS
last seen Sept 14, 2013 14:38:29 GMT -5

I'm the weaver of nightmares, taking all your dreams and wrapping them up with spiderwebs

the physical scars aren't what hurt}} open Mar 19, 2013 15:20:33 GMT -5

Post by Lookie on Mar 19, 2013 15:20:33 GMT -5

OOC}}
Changing the tense to first person, just because I can~

the physical scars aren't what hurt
they just sit in my skin
telling stories of past horrors

I worked as a fisher, even though I was only fifteen, all because of my father, the drunk, so the walk from the water to my workplace was not very far. I walked inside and quietly headed towards the woman's changing room, wishing that it wasn't so run down and disgusting.

As I changed, I avoided looking in the mirrors because of my scars inlaid in my skin, especially the long, ragged one that went from my shoulder to my elbow. However, I accidentally got a glimpse of myself in a broken mirror, which made me turn and stare long and hard at my self.

At last, I walked back out and to the sea, grabbing one of the dull-tipped tridents and a net so I could catch some fish.

the emotional scars are the ones that hurt
they stay invisible to most
and they give me the choice to tell others of my trauma

Verbal, Lord of The Dreadfort
Merchant

[M:-1200]

282 POSTS

last seen Jan 27, 2015 20:11:23 GMT -5

Knowledge of trees is treason.

the physical scars aren't what hurt}} open Mar 19, 2013 16:01:58 GMT -5

Post by Verbal, Lord of The Dreadfort on Mar 19, 2013 16:01:58 GMT -5

Into the changing room, into the tattered fisherman garb I wore everyday, and towards the the boat I worked on. I worked on it with about forty other dudes, no women though. Since there wasn't necessarily a rule against women in the fishing fleet (not having a coed crew was actually really abnormal since everyone, man or woman, worked from a young age,) I always found that weird.

I hauled my trident over my shoulder with ease, the familiar feel of the weapon calming me greatly, and kept a fishing net over the other one. My yellow waterproof overalls, my grey fishing garb, my black fishing cap, these clothes were familiar were just as familiar as the feel of a trident and a net in my hand, and were just as calming to wear.

"Back to the grind." I tell myself quietly as I hop on board the boat and undo the knots which keep us moored and attached to the docks.

Last Edit: Mar 19, 2013 16:03:52 GMT -5 by Verbal, Lord of The Dreadfort

Credit to Stare

Credit for both Gaff and Linus' tribute token designs and templates goes exclusively to the wonderful Cass!

"God creates dinosaurs, God destroys dinosaurs, God creates man, man destroys God, man creates dinosaurs..."

Your face. My size twenty-four boot.