lust ∞ // [loony/kay]
Jan 1, 2016 16:28:15 GMT -5
Post by admin kay on Jan 1, 2016 16:28:15 GMT -5
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lyon
For some reason that she didn't understand - or couldn't remember - Circe woke up with her jaw aching. The joints felt like they had been broken and stitched back together. No, not quite stitched. Taped. She washed her face twice in the crystal sink before she realized that she wasn't home.
She had been reaped and without anyone explaining, she knew instantly she was due down in the belly of the training center. She braided her hair into a halo atop the crown of her head, donned her training uniform (which was oddly bland) and descended. It seemed that every face she passed she recognized, which was both strange and not strange.
She only felt the dream-like fog lift when she strode into the training center proper. This she knew. This she had known all of her life. As she passed the throwing axes, she slowed. At home she had trained mostly with swords and spears, but the long, heavy blades called to her like a ghost. Other tributes were already squaring off, testing their strength and speed, while she stood frozen. Her index finger twitched. She lifted it, reaching for the sharpened edge.
The whisper of breath on the back of her bare neck.
She spun herself around, denying one temptation for another. She drank in the sight of the other girl, from her heavy dark hair to her wide almond eyes. Her heart leaped into her throat and that sore jaw unhinged just enough to name her. "Gunner La Torre. Don't you dare ask if I want to play a game."
lyon
circe
district two female
For some reason that she didn't understand - or couldn't remember - Circe woke up with her jaw aching. The joints felt like they had been broken and stitched back together. No, not quite stitched. Taped. She washed her face twice in the crystal sink before she realized that she wasn't home.
She had been reaped and without anyone explaining, she knew instantly she was due down in the belly of the training center. She braided her hair into a halo atop the crown of her head, donned her training uniform (which was oddly bland) and descended. It seemed that every face she passed she recognized, which was both strange and not strange.
She only felt the dream-like fog lift when she strode into the training center proper. This she knew. This she had known all of her life. As she passed the throwing axes, she slowed. At home she had trained mostly with swords and spears, but the long, heavy blades called to her like a ghost. Other tributes were already squaring off, testing their strength and speed, while she stood frozen. Her index finger twitched. She lifted it, reaching for the sharpened edge.
The whisper of breath on the back of her bare neck.
She spun herself around, denying one temptation for another. She drank in the sight of the other girl, from her heavy dark hair to her wide almond eyes. Her heart leaped into her throat and that sore jaw unhinged just enough to name her. "Gunner La Torre. Don't you dare ask if I want to play a game."
OOC Notes
never forget
never forget
