for the fallen ones | {tristen}

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gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan
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for the fallen ones | {tristen} Jan 19, 2014 14:19:55 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan on Jan 19, 2014 14:19:55 GMT -5

holden blake
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THE FEAR OF FALLING APART
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The sounds of power generators hummed all around him. He liked the noise- liked that it hid voices easily. This was the only place in district thirteen he felt at home. He looked at the schedule on his arm. He was supposed to be practicing close combat right now, but really, what would they do to them if he didn't abide by their stupid rules? Kick him out? Great. He never intended on coming to the prison anyway.

It wasn't technically a prison, but it sure as hell felt like one. Everyone had to be at a certain place at a designated time, and if they weren't it was reported and they had to listen to an onslaught of bullshit. They had already given up hope for Holden, which he was completely satisfied by. As long as he could stay out of everyone's way and keep others from being late, he was more or less free to do what he wanted.

He sat on a large pipe with his head against the wall, staring blankly into the space for a few minutes too long. It was almost twelve o' clock. If he was still in Two, he would be eating lunch with his friends right now, enjoying his last year of high school and hoping it was his name that was called at the reaping, but here he had nothing to enjoy, or to hope for. Even Hallie seemed to be fitting in now, accepting thirteen's rules and learning to live by them. It was sad, really.

He hopped down and tucked his hands in his back pocket as he headed toward the mess hall. He got in line between a girl with long black hair that he instantly recognized as Rosangela Cauchemar. Smiling, he pushed his face in that hair so that his nose nudged her ear. "Hey beautiful," He only did it for her reaction. Lately she seemed to be offering a little bit more slack on the tight leash she put herself on (she held herself captive and didn't even know it.) but it didn't change the fact that she was quick to shun anyone for inappropriate behavior.

He thought it was a bit ridiculous, really, but he did enjoy the girl's company at times and he could tell she liked spending time with him. Even if she wouldn't admit it.

OOC: TABLE CREDIT GOES TO LEI.

Last Edit: Jan 19, 2014 14:31:07 GMT -5 by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

gamemaker 🍒 maryn hale
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for the fallen ones | {tristen} Jan 23, 2014 21:50:10 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker 🍒 maryn hale on Jan 23, 2014 21:50:10 GMT -5

ROSANGELA

CAUCHEMAR

Lust is a blade; lust is a blade that can shatter even the strongest armor.

I can still feel Keiron's fingertips upon my flesh, his breath caressing my neck. During that single moment when the lights went out, leaving us alone in the shadows, I let the light in my soul suffocate and die out. His darkness and his entirety entered me, piercing my innocence with a sword of obsidian. I had never felt the touch of a man, and in that spur of splendorous ecstasy, I had found myself questioning my religious views.

(Why should I let myself be caged? Why should I stray from something so glorious?)

Still, with a quick opening of my eyelids after we elevated into bliss, I screamed. I screamed on the inside, realizing that I had stepped off the edge of the very path that I had crafted. My feet stumbled upon the broken shards of my childhood, and in a flurry of gasps, I watched as Kieron smiled; I watched as the beast licked his paw with a certain smug pride.

For the first few nights after, I hid myself in my room. I cared not about the schedule on my arm, nor what the officials would think of me. I could only think of the sizzling rod of lighting that Ripred was waiting to swing down at me. My sisters pondered as to why I seemed so paranoid, but I took the shards of innocence that I had left and crafted a suit of armor. Sure, I was weak and damaged, but I was still a warrior of Ripred.

With a candle of courage clutched between my fingers, I had chosen today to exit the confines of my chamber. Part of me hoped to never see Kieron again, but another part of me yearned to feel his fingertips upon my form once more. The monstrous beast inside of Kieron must have laid a clutch of eggs within me, for my dizzying mind could not shake the thought of him, the thought of us.

Shaking my head, I rubbed my arms, exhaling slowly as I snapped back into reality. The line in which I stood, a thousand broken souls waiting to grab their trays, moved ahead. I wore a simple grey dress, more so an over-sized tank top than anything, and my hair splayed out across my shoulders in a messy waterfall. I blinked sheepishly, walking ahead and staring ahead, yet seeing nothing.

My knees, red from the pressure of hitting the ground with each night that I prayed, wobbled as I continued to walk, and as I heard a husky voice enter my ears and caress my eardrums, I thought that I would collapse. Instead, however, I had whirled around, punching outwards at the man, at Kieron and his beast that had infected me.

"You bastard!" I screamed, my tired face pulling up into a snarl.

(How dare he call me beautiful? How dare I be so weak? How dare I-)

"Holden?" I sputtered, realizing that the young man in front of me was a far more familiar face than the monster I had met in the darkness. "Holden, I'm so sorry! I-...," I looked down, gulping down my sudden burst of courage and clutching at my hair, blushing from the embarrassment of being stared at by a blinking crowd. "I thought you were someone else, I'm so sorry!"

I exhaled again, shaking my hands in front of me, before eventually tucking them under my armpits. I rocked back and forth upon my heels, staring down at Holden's feet. I whispered sorry, over and over, possibly speaking more so to Ripred than to my friend.

"I'm so sorry."

I'm so sorry for sending myself to Hell.

Last Edit: May 25, 2014 13:57:48 GMT -5 by gamemaker 🍒 maryn hale

gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan
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for the fallen ones | {tristen} Jan 25, 2014 23:12:59 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan on Jan 25, 2014 23:12:59 GMT -5

| I ' M | B L E E D I N G | O U T | F O R | Y O U |

H O L D E N ▲ B L A K E

Pain licked the skin that was the boy's cheek and white clouded his vision as if a miniature lightning storm were taking place in the small space between the lids of his eyes and the liquid cinnamon toast colored irises that almost glowed red with rage as he glared at the girl. His fists clenched shut until they were solid bricks hanging by his sides and he gritted his teeth so harshly he wouldn't have been surprised to lose a few of the delicate pearls that lightened his smile because of it.

In that moment, his mind was a blur of pain and embarrassment and the back of his throat craved revenge, however, he forced himself to notice the change in Rosangela's pasty white and admittedly pretty features when they twisted away from anger and disgust to shock and remorse. "Holden?" She asked, and he blinked away the remaining spots from his eyes. "Ouch." He mumbled, mostly to lighten the mood a bit. "Holden, I'm so sorry! I-... I thought you were someone else, I'm so sorry!" He forced himself to raise a hand in the space between them. Despite how pissed he was, how surprised that it had all happened, Rosangela claimed it was on accident. "It's fine, Ros-" He said, and felt as if he were reminding himself more than letting her know as she interrupted.

"I'm so sorry."

He offered a small smile to her, his lips twisting from the slight scowl they were still in to a gesture of warmth. "Tell you what, how about you make it up to me by sitting with me?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then we'll call it even, okay?"

The rest of the wait in line was filled with small chatter and faint smiles thrown toward each other in hopes of truly leaving the awkward situation behind them. Once they each got a tray of what Holden hoped was carrot soup and salted bread with a bottle of water laying on the side of the plate, gently rocking back and forth with each step the pair of them took, Holden could barely feel the tingle in his right cheek, but he guessed the hand print was still easily visible. Typically, people had designated spots to sit and were scolded for not abiding, but luckily Holden's stubborn attitude and persistence had granted him enough freedom to sit where he pleased, as well as a few other small things he took advantage of with ease.

Most of the tables were already filled with the families assigned to them. Since Holden had only been found with his sister, they were always forced to share tables with other families, some they actually liked, some they had never met. He glanced across the room and found Hallie to be sitting with a slightly plump woman that claimed to be from One and her two sons. They had all arrived only about a week earlier, but from the looks of it, his sister was doing what she did best: making them feel welcome. She has ways of speaking that made things seem almost okay, and Holden guessed it wasn't just an ability she acquired in the training center they both devoted their entire childhoods to, but rather when she was forced to finish raising him all on her own in terrible conditions.

She hadn't really been all that bad at all. In fact, Holden found himself preferring his life with Hallie to the one with his parents, even if they lived every day in fear, desperate to get something to eat for the first time in days. In many ways he was disappointed when Thirteen Officials found them, but the way he refused to ever say out loud was that it wasn't just going to be the two of them anymore.

He blinked as he looked away from her once and for all, and back to Rose, who still had traces of a blush on her cheeks from earlier, and self-loathing occupying her eyes. "C'mon," He led. "There will probably be an open table toward the back."