Tripp {{ District 9 (FIN)

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Tripp {{ District 9 (FIN) Oct 25, 2014 22:20:09 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Oct 25, 2014 22:20:09 GMT -5

ayyy TRIPPleting with Python and Nyte

Definitely killer gang members

bang bang into the character creation

i actually have no idea what im doing

Tripp Seraphim
"Bullet"
17
odair doe ohemgee

remember to put wip in the title u little wip
~nyte

leave me alone nyte ugh

<3

Last Edit: Jan 31, 2015 23:16:18 GMT -5 by Deleted

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Tripp {{ District 9 (FIN) Nov 4, 2014 22:36:57 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2014 22:36:57 GMT -5

• B • U • L • L • E • T •

_____________________________

I never miss.

Mom once told me that I was such a good shot because I didn't have anything else to focus on but the target. And that's true, even though she's dead and rotting with a bullet in her brain it's still true. Tate's got us to worry about now, he's the mom. Teva's too focused on the amount of bullets he can pump into the target, he's always been like that. But me?

I'm just Tripp, the quiet, deadly, mouth zipped shut with a zipper of despair but explosive when I don't want to be one.

And when I was younger, I used to denounce the saying actions speak louder than words, because I could never understand just how anything could top some of the shit that Teva says, but then I got older, and as my limbs stretched out, pulled like taffy, and as my mind went from child's play to complexity I began to understand that sometimes, when your voice fails you, your actions can do a lot more.

One time, when we were fooling around in the living room, wrestling and throwing each other in a desperate attempt to see which one of us was strongest, we managed to knock over this brand new ship in a bottle decoration that Mom had just gotten. I still remember it, ha, the bottle teetering

and teetering

and teetering.

While we all just stood there in that breathless moment of Oh fuck, what should we do?

And it teetered, and teetered, and crashed to the floor, glass exploding from the point of impact all over the floor. Mom was pissed, and ordered, no forced us to clean it up, bit by tiny bit. And we did it without question, our tiny bodies racked with playful sweat and our minds racked with playful innocence.

Those were the really, really good days.

___________

Were molded from the same person, the three of us. Tate, Tripp, and Teva. Mom used to call us partners in crime, and that's what we were, what we are. It's something of a miracle that mom did it all, that she dealt with three hurricanes of energy for as long as she did.

And when we reached the peak of hyper, she took in one more.

Teddy, another T. Fragile little thing, too. I remember when we became a twister of flailing limbs and a storm of trouble, the old man down the road yelling at us to get back here. But we ran, as fast as our identical limbs would take us.

He kept up, for a little while.

But then I could see it through the wind hitting his face that he was tired, and that he wouldn't be able to keep up much longer. And the funny thing is, we never saw him as a weak link, because that's the opposite of Teddy. he's our mold, our glue, the stuff that keeps these cracked pieces from crumbling.

Teddy has a heart of gold. Only thing is, sometimes a heart of gold is too heavy for a feather body.

___________

Dad was a ghost, a poltergeist. He was a piece of shit, showing up to our births with a lip stick stained collar and an indecency stained conscience. And then after we were born, he walked, ditched just like that. He left my mom in the dust, with three screaming kids in her arms. But she did a good job, I mean look at us.

I mean, look at us now.

We're the leaders of a gang, her gang. Because she left, but it wasn't like Dad, she didn't leave by choice. She left by metal bullet.

She left by force, she left by courage.

The emptiness is what I remember the most. There was candles laid out on the table, and a half opened cake mix box accompanied by a half opened door when we got home.

But worst of all, there was silence.

And ripred, silence has a way of gripping you by the throat, tugging on strings of your anxiety and playing your nerves like a fiddle.

I set Teddy up on the couch, weaving his blanket in between his fingers and my kindness with his worries, giving him as much of a smile as I could muster as Teva made his way over.

And then, just like so many times before I became the background person.

The broken pencil and it's shards complemented the shattered glass i'd thrown to the floor.

"Tripp! What was that?" Tate called

"Glass fell. I'm alright."

But ripred, I wasn't. And my fingers intertwined with my hair as I blinked back tears because Mom had never not been here.

She'd been home late, she'd been home late but this was different. This was so different.

And it just felt so wrong.

___________

The district alarm was what we woke up to. And it was a haze, Tate's worry trying to get us to eat, Teddy waking up groggily and the frown on Teva's face. Everything felt like it was either in slow motion or in fast forward.

The walk was the worst. All my life, i'd spent it running with Teva, Tate, and Teddy by my side. But this time, as we locked fingers it felt like each step was weighted, and that the District Square was miles and miles away. I remember there being such a crowd, like the blood of a corpse, people spread out all over the place.

"I always knew it'd catch up to her." One of them said, with his wife's hands locked with his. I told myself i'd kill him someday for it, for whatever it was.

And their eyes shot bullets through us.

We were target practice for glares and stares, painted red with our legacy and white with our shattered innocence.

And we weaved through the crowd with small bodies and even smaller expectations.

"MOM!"

I don't know who said it, but there she was. The strongest woman that ever lived, who could hold up the sky and the sun for us, who'd done everything with us.

There she was, bloodied and bruised on the stage with a barrel of metal fused to the back of her head.

She mouthed something at us.

I could've sworn it was "I love you."

And then the world became blood red, and my knees became jelly and my mind mush

And me, silent, quiet Tripp screamed until my lungs burst.

___________

Shattered glasses and broken hearts, that's what I was after that.

And no one noticed, because I became a rag doll, stitching myself up every time a gash of emotion showed itself. I stored my tears for behind my eyelids, because I had to stay strong for everyone else, and through tight lips and fake smiles I stood, grieving as quietly as I could.

But stitches only last for so long before they fall out.

"Get going. I'll catch up." There were bullet holes in the target's head.

Their feet shuffled out and I was left alone with a death wish in my hands and a painting of red white and bullets in front of me.

Slumped up next to a stack of barrels, staring at the darkness in front of me as if waiting for something to tell me not to. I remember it all feeling so relaxed, my legs spread out in free fall and a hunk of metal in my hand.

I just felt so exhausted.

And I just felt so weak.

There were regrets swimming through my mind like fish in the ocean, regrets and doubts and what if I had stopped them and what if I had saved her

and

The metal tastes like blood and dread.

It finds a spot in between my teeth and for the first time since I started shooting at targets I realize that my hands are shaking, their shaking and the gun is clinking against my teeth with every shaky breath I take.

There's something weird about bottling emotions, because I remember wondering how much no one had noticed that I was breaking, that there were cracks and rips and tears all over and no one, not Teva, not Tate, not Teddy.

And it's almost comical, that Bullet was going to bite the bullet.

"Tripp?"

His voice as sharp as a sword, it echoes through the warehouse. And all I can do is stare, with eyelids too heavy and with a mind too broken.

I pull gun from mouth and the only words I can manage to muster are telling him to "Get the fuck out of here, Teddy. Just fuck off."

I'd never even sworn at him before, and the words are taunting, hanging from the ceiling by threads.

I kept convincing myself he'd listen, just like he always does. I kept convincing myself that i'd be hearing his footsteps leaving the warehouse once again and that i'd hear the doors slam shut and once again, i'd be left alone.

But he doesn't.

"No. No way Tripp, I'm not going anywhere."

And i'm a broken man, a living shattered mirror, a bottle teetering teetering teetering before falling and shattering all over the floor. I don't remember it, but I let instinct take over and for a single split second

quite literally, seconds

I aimed the gun at his heart, that weak, fragile heart of his and as my mind melted into nothing I nearly pulled that trigger. But I watch his face go from worry to fear and it rips me back into whatever fucked reality I was in before, and I couldn't have dropped the gun quick enough.

And i'm stumbling words, practically begging him to just leave me alone, to just let me do this because it was what I deserved.

I mutter "please" under my breath as if that'd get him to do anything, and at this point it isn't just my hands shaking but my whole body is covered in sweat, sitting in a puddle of my own cowardice and regret.

"No Tripp. No.-"

I was taking one long, shaky breath.

"I promise you, I'm never gonna leave you, not ever, not in a whole million years. You're stuck with me and if you traumatize me by killing yourself"

No.

"then I'm gonna pick up that gun and I'm gonna follow you into the after life and I'm gonna...I'm gonna kick your f-ing ass ok? ok?"

The breath catches in my throat and like a pebble hitting glass I crack.

Ok.

And I was oh too aware of the silence that was between us, because it was only augmented by the short breath sobs that Teddy was releasing and just because just because my mind had shattered I raise metal to my mouth again.

But this time, it tastes even worse. And I see angel wings on Teddy's back as pleads with me, mouth sewed shut with fear.

Crack. The gun is at my side and like a storm it begins to pass.

I heard his feet shuffle forward.

Stop. "What if we end up like mom?"

Because i'd been having nightmares about three boys laying face down in the dirt, drinking their own blood from the ground as their hearts took their last beats. I dreamed of bullets splitting skin and bone and spirit

and I imagined Teddy screaming as we fell, those angel wings withering on his back.

And it was just so scary.

Mom once told me that I was such a good shot because I didn't have anything else to focus on but the target. But the thing is, what happens when I do have something to focus on?

"We won't. Tate isn't gonna let that happen and you know it."

He was still so innocent.

I grip the gun out of fear or frustration or something.

"Tate would have said the same thing about mom not letting that happen Ted and you know it. Mom's dead, Teddy, she's fucking dead and what happens to us if Tate or one of us slips up? What happens then?"

Because I didn't know.

And Teddy didn't either, and maybe it was selfish of me to think he would.

"Then we..then we..."

We what, Teddy? We wh-

"Heck, I don't know Tripp? I don't know? but that's no way to live. How are we supposed to do anything if we're just busy fearing what might come all of the time?"

Teddy's never yelled at me before. And as his words reach my ears I see Tate being overprotective, I see Teva being explosive,

and the scariest thing of all is that I see myself.

There's a tear sprinting down my face as I shatter.

And I try to wipe the liquid away from glass skin but it's already spread into the cracks that run along my face.

I.

The metal clanks against the ground as Teddy kicks it away.

Don't.

He squeezes me so hard that my willpower bursts.

Know.

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't-"

It escapes my mouth over and over again as if it'd be able to fix things, and as Teddy sits next to me, tears mixing with tears.

"I know. I know."

I never thought Teddy would ever know more than me.

___________

There's a crimson stained, white uniformed man in front of me. His hands are tied up with barbed wire and his mouth is riddled with black holes instead of teeth.

"You killed a woman with black hair and a spirit stronger than any of us."

His spit hits my left cheek and the gun in my hand becomes a little bit warmer.

"Fuck yourself."

I punch like Teva and listen to his blood hit the ground.

I put the gun in his face, and watch as his eyes look over it.

"Now, i'm sure you know how a gun works, because i've witnessed your ability first hand."

I punch him in the stomach and listen to him heave. "But we're gonna run through it again."

I point to the trigger.

"See this?"

He gives me as much of an icy glare as he can muster.

"That's the trigger. When you pull it, it shoots the gun."

My fingertip moves to the barrel.

"When the trigger is pulled, the bullet goes all the way through this metal piece, it's called the barrel."

It's basic knowledge for him, and he makes it clear by half-laughing at me.

I fire a bullet into his leg and his screams shake the warehouse walls.

"That thing that just hit your leg? That's called a bullet. Hurts, huh?"

The sound of his teeth grinding is audible, and I sigh before I point the gun to the middle of his forehead.

And I watch his eyes falter as the only thing he sees is the metal of my gun.

"I have family."

It takes everything I have not to laugh in his face.

The gun stops shaking in my hand.

"So do I. And you took one of them."

I kept his uniform badges.

___________

Table made by Chelsey <3

Last Edit: Feb 16, 2015 20:32:46 GMT -5 by Deleted

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen Apr 19, 2024 16:00:32 GMT -5	Tripp {{ District 9 (FIN) Jan 31, 2015 22:47:59 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2015 22:47:59 GMT -5 walks in like 3 months late with starbucks hey guys im done I think like either Nyte or Python or Ele wants dibs idek though like but odair.

ᴥ Head RP Tutor 4,546 POSTS Pronouns: he/him last seen Apr 19, 2024 14:52:39 GMT -5 oof	Tripp {{ District 9 (FIN) Jan 31, 2015 22:50:37 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ᴥ on Jan 31, 2015 22:50:37 GMT -5 HOLY FUCKIGN SHIT TRIPP YOU'RE HERE HOLY FUCKING SHIT AWJSDDJ YOU ARE SUCH A GREAT WRITER LIKE I LITERALLY AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING TRIPP YOU ASSHOLE HOLY SHIT TRIPP OMG I LOVE HIM I LOVE YOU FUCK OK ACCEPTED
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