Foot Loose {Iona, Bailey, Weaver, & Kizzy//Blitz}
Jun 12, 2016 20:45:03 GMT -5
Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Jun 12, 2016 20:45:03 GMT -5
 District 11 Female Tribute 73rd Hunger Games | Iona Holbrook my silence is my self defense, and also my greatest weapon. Silence does not breach the Training Center for a mere moment, as it consistently consumes Iona. The threatening future dances a display from every angle around her, and she’s suffocating by what actions to perform. If others can pertain bets on her, she must as well. But as always she’s captured in a frozen daze. The ever-changing plot encourages her to attempt, while instincts pressure her to shelter. A continues circle of opposing views plague her in a vicious cycle. She must spring to her feet if she is expected to survive though. Debating movements will not proceed where she is forcefully headed. The massive, intense obstacle course captivates her curious attention. At home a decaying playground constantly enticed the young Brunette. When the public vanished from the sight during specific hours, she would crawl from her shell for a moment of freedom. Swinging from the bars reminded her that she was more then pure, non-physical knowledge. In secrecy, she could laugh and spin like any normal child. Mazes of endurance sing for her. The majority of the Tributes have discarded for the cafeteria, and her calling welcomes her. If her Story is destined to end, there’s no harm in feeding the interest. Weapons were hefty among her grip, while the skill to support herself is achievable. With her notebook securely tucked to a corner, her empty palms reach for a climb. Escaping through the challenging path proved to be more enjoyable then assumed. It releases her from the swarm of other Tributes, while still providing her a safe view. She weaves through the hurtles, scales the heights, and maneuvers through the narrowest tunnels. If Iona could outsmart to victory, just maybe she can survive…doubtful though. Her personal race to be greater, nips her weak confidence right back to where it belongs. Somehow a defiant rope manages to knot her right foot, and she discovers herself physically trapped. The more she struggles for relief, the stronger the hold becomes. Her focus pleads for a lack of wandering eyes, while she battles for sanctuary. This is exactly what her conclusion pertains for her. |
