McCarthy Balmain // D8 // FIN

Gryphon Career Tribute 503 POSTS Pronouns: He/Him last seen Aug 31, 2020 22:24:24 GMT -5 heading to cloud nine	McCarthy Balmain // D8 // FIN Aug 27, 2016 1:17:10 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Gryphon on Aug 27, 2016 1:17:10 GMT -5 McCarthy Balmain 18 District Eight - 5e281f -
	Last Edit: Aug 28, 2016 16:12:14 GMT -5 by Gryphon Made by the lovely moon(stone) <3

Gryphon
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503 POSTS

Pronouns: He/Him
last seen Aug 31, 2020 22:24:24 GMT -5

heading to cloud nine

McCarthy Balmain // D8 // FIN Aug 28, 2016 1:01:11 GMT -5

Post by Gryphon on Aug 28, 2016 1:01:11 GMT -5

~ Present ~ Day ~

Mick~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Holli
The Red String of Fate, also referred to as the Red String of Marriage, and other variants, is an East Asian belief originating from Chinese legend.

She doesn't understand.

Of course she wouldn't. Why would she?

...It's just...I thought she of all people would see it too.

According to this myth, the gods tie an invisible red cord around the ankles of those that are destined to meet one another in a certain situation or help each other in a certain way.

I expected too much from her. She led me to believe there was much to expect from her. She told me she was my friend.

Yet she couldn't listen to me.

She wouldn't listen to me.

Mick~~~✄~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Holli
Often, in Japanese culture, it is thought to be tied around the little finger. According to Chinese legend, the deity in charge of "the red thread" is believed to be Yuè Xià Lǎorén, often abbreviated to Yuè Lǎo, the old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages.

It makes sense, it should be obvious. I don't know why she thinks otherwise when it's been right in front of our faces this entire time prior to what happened.

I don't know why THEY think otherwise.

Why is everybody disregarding what's only rational? Why are they so afraid?

Mick~~~     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Holli
The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances.

I was wrong.

I was wrong about her, I was wrong about everyone.

...I was wrong about myself.

Mick~~~                                     ~~~~~~~~Holli
This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.

It's not her.

It's not going to be.

It's never going to be.

Mick~~~                                                                ~~~Holli
This myth is similar to the Western concept of soulmate or a destined flame.

I guess I was blind from the blatant truth too.

Last Edit: Aug 28, 2016 6:16:20 GMT -5 by Gryphon

Made by the lovely moon(stone) <3

Gryphon
Career Tribute

503 POSTS

Pronouns: He/Him
last seen Aug 31, 2020 22:24:24 GMT -5

heading to cloud nine

McCarthy Balmain // D8 // FIN Aug 28, 2016 6:12:12 GMT -5

Post by Gryphon on Aug 28, 2016 6:12:12 GMT -5

~ Three ~ Days ~ Ago ~

Red.
I wake up to red, intermingled with beams of sunlight pouring onto the wall of my room and the objects seated in front of it, that faces my bed and greets my rejuvenated body after it surfaces from its time of rest.
The red on an old hip-length shirt of mine, which was re-purposed with the metal base of an abandoned standing lamp, into a home-made dress mannequin, shafted with the glare from the window on the wall adjacent to it.
The red of yarn threads, sown together and onto other pieces of fabric.
The red from another garment in the works, another of many articles already completed that bare the same primary color for its scheme.

I rub my eyes to clear my vision, then get up and head for the bathroom door, beginning to prep myself for another day. The light switch is flicked on and it floods the room with fluorescence as I continue stepping forward, stopping in front of the sink mirror to observe my reflection for a few moments. My eyes trace over my olive skin, dark brown eyes, and jet black hair that's short but layered, quiffed cleanly upwards. Light stubble dots my defined jaw, reminding me that I'm heading towards the middle of my grace period before another shave. I think about my height, being taller than everyone in my family except my dad by a couple inches, at 6'1, then look over my build and body and remember it's skinny and lean for a reason. Workout routines are frequently done in my room in the emergency that I'm reaped for the Games, so I can potentially and hopefully have a one-up over the Careers, but it's my last year before I age out of it so I'm not worrying about the possibility too much. I strip and start for my usual unfortunate cold shower, but remind myself that there are people worse off here in Panem, so I should be grateful for what I have.

Twenty minutes pass until I finish up with my body and oral hygiene. Fluorescence escapes the room before it's immersed in total darkness as I shut the door behind me, then open the closet to pick out clothes. They're all made by at least one person in my family, and consists of short-sleeved button downs, plain t-shirts, denim jeans, sweaters, bermuda shorts, converses, and sneakers. I select an outfit of a dull navy blue button down, black shorts, light gray socks, and black sneakers. I head out of my room and to the kitchen and dining room, where my mother greets me. She's cooking breakfast, and lets me know that father's in their room working on a dress for a family friend. She then asks me to go and get more sewing material, for we're running low. I oblige, going back into my room for my key to the house, before closing my door shut and taking my leave out for the task. The front door's lock clicks before I turn and walk over to the nearest store.

Give or take ten minutes I'd say, more people gradually start entering my field of vision as I venture further away from my family. As I start seeing more than two people clumped together in passing or walking with each other, I bump into Holliday Queeneth. ...We hold a very interesting relationship, for our families--the Balmains and the Queeneths--are essentially each other's rivals in this District's industry. The reason for this is because some people say the quality of our clothes are apparently similar to and barely below the standard of their's. Her wretched parents even think so, so we generally really don't like each other...but Holli's different. She's so different from them, from her entire family. She doesn't talk to me, to any of my own, or to anybody here in eight with contempt. She's willing to be a friend and a helping hand, it makes me ponder if she really is of Queeneth blood sometimes. Now I'm personally okay with people but not too fond of them, I value time on my own much more stowed away and working on my own garb and handiness in sewing. Even so, however, I find it unhealthy to be indoors all the time, so I do take breaks by going out for supplies for my family and I or hanging out with Holli. Point being, I'm not really an "open book" kind of person...but Holli doesn't care. Regardless of whether somebody is or not, she's still up for getting to know them and befriending them. I personally find our bond a strange, but pleasant one--I actually do like her and her presence.

Being this close to somebody was and still is weird to me though. Once, wanting answers as to why she's friends with me, I asked her what she thought of me; personality and all, asking her to describe it and explain why we're cronies in spite of it with honesty. After a little while of hesitance followed by thought, she formed her reply to me. "...Based off of what you say and do, you're rather...bitter." The bluntness of the first sentence caught me by surprise, and I blink at her with brows raised. A playful smile bubbles from her lips as she continued. "Bitter about some things, like the rivalry between our families. I can also tell you're a reflective person and get too caught up in your own thoughts sometimes, and I know you're reserved because you've barely just started talking to me about what's on your mind.

"...I know that..." Her expression turned more grave here. "...unlike my family, your parents encourage you and your brother and sister to continue their business, but they reassured you guys that no matter what you want to do, they'll love and support you nonetheless. You said you wanted to follow after their footsteps, so you started learning to sew when you were 13. Your weird self is really intrigued with that 'red string of fate' myth so that became and remained as your go-to color." the smile returned, this time coupled with a small laugh. I furrowed my brows at her and countered defensively. I had learned about it from a book at my school's library when I was younger and liked the idea of it, I don't know why that's so bad. "Hey, come on, is that belief not engaging to you in the slightest?" She laughs some more. "No, I'm not a nerd like you are."

"Oh, fuck off."

"I'm just kidding!" Another chuckle escapes from her. "Anyway, you're also responsible, because you don't take advantage of your parents' leniency. They let you do whatever you want when you go for a supply run, so long as you come back with what's needed, and you do everytime.

"I'm friends with you 'in spite of all of this' because I want to be. You're chill to talk to, and you not being talkative opens up opportunities where we can do relaxing stuff together like watch the stars or just go for a walk. I don't know why you think us being buds is weird, because it isn't--you're totally a friend worth having."

Those last words had stuck with me since them, engraved into my mind. They meant a lot to me despite astonishing me at first when she said them. I had stared at her dumbly, and she slightly tilted her head to the side in both confusion and amusement before waving her hand in front of my face.

"Helloooooo, earth to Mick?"

I snap out of my entranced state. "S-Sorry...that's...that's really nice to hear, Holli. ...Thank you for that." I smile, and she mirrors the action.

Back to the present, she apologizes then greets me. I let her know that I was going on a trip for more material, but invite her to stick around with me and wander around for awhile. She agrees immediately, and we decide to head off to a bakery in the District Square.

I returned home late in the afternoon after spending time with Holli, more material for our work in my hands. Mom welcomes me back home and lets me know that my breakfast had been sitting ready and waiting while I was gone, so I should heat it up as she didn't want a cold meal to be my first. She takes some of the yarn and yards of fabric from my grasp, then goes to place them in the closet of her room as that's where they're usually kept. Dad says hello and curiously asks me how the item of clothing I was working on was going, and I let him know that it's over halfway done.

The rest of the day went by as normal after I finished my breakfast. I continued working on the garment in my room, and excused myself out of dinner because I returned from the usual run so late without eating a proper meal. Everyone else retreated into their rooms by the time I switched to my pajamas and got comfortable in my bed. I immediately went to sleep, waiting for the beginning of another normal day.

That normal day never came.

Instead, I woke up way earlier than usual because of my little sister and parents barging in. The scent of smoke burst into my nostrils the moment they made me re-gain consciousness, and they jerked me away from my room and with them to my sister's older brother, my younger brother, my parents' second son.

That was when I heard the crackle and saw flames terrorizing our kitchen and dining room, the tips of the blaze licking at the top of my perspective. That was when the state of urgency kicked in and adrenaline started to run through my body.

That was when we stopped having normal days.

Last Edit: Jun 24, 2017 1:07:32 GMT -5 by Gryphon

Made by the lovely moon(stone) <3

Gryphon
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503 POSTS

Pronouns: He/Him
last seen Aug 31, 2020 22:24:24 GMT -5

heading to cloud nine

McCarthy Balmain // D8 // FIN Aug 28, 2016 15:58:37 GMT -5

Post by Gryphon on Aug 28, 2016 15:58:37 GMT -5

~ Present ~ Day ~

Normal days are now beyond our reach.

Two days ago, my family and I lost our house to a fire.
We all managed to wake up our son and brother and escape from the flames by the skin of our teeth, before it got any worse. I remember hearing the ominous creaking of wood below me as I put myself behind everyone, and caught a quick glimpse of the sound as I followed them out the door. A large plank fell from the ceiling and into the house combustion, letting me know that if we were just a few seconds late from eluding the hazard, another one would get in our way and further put our lives at risk.
We watched on in dismay as our shelter and possessions were burned to a crisp. The last thought I had before Peacekeepers and other people arrived to the scene was of the red on the dress dummy in my room, coming together with the blaze and dissolving into it as red met red, orange, yellow, and white before turning black.

Arson.

Of course it was fucking arson.

There was nothing wrong with any of our appliances that would cause a fire, and there was no sign of anything in our house that could cause a fire...well besides our house itself, and what we worked with for sewing and such, but that just means that they had to be set on fire by someone for it to catch. It's the only way.

So it would be fucking arson.

We were horrified and enraged when we heard that was the source of it all.

It was the Queeneths.

Had to be.

It only makes sense that it would be them who did it, us being constantly compared to them by customers, clients, the regular District citizens, and such. They did it to literally eliminate their "competition" by melting all of our tools and materials away. I heard that regulars who buy our clothes and regulars who buy their clothes can and will sometimes argue with each other over whose is better, and a notable sub-topic in those debates are how one family has a quality to their sewing prowess that the other doesn't. The supporters of the Queeneth's garments say their's are more visually appealing with their colors and patterns, while our's are so distastefully dull and bland. Our supporters, on the other hand, rip the Queeneths to shreds for their practices on how they have their children learn the craft, despite all of them partaking in it and being roughly yet equally talented with it.

We're aware of the Queeneth's fault, and they're aware of our's; but only we know what our own is, while Holli's the only Queeneth who's aware of her family's.

Did somebody tell them?

Holli couldn't have, she's really not that kind of person who would let her family know after what she's been and still going through with them. She loathes them far too much.

Who, then?

Or was it just them getting sick of the comparisons and wanting to end the feud once and for all, so they took out everything we had to rake in the money we were "stealing" from them?

They retrieve a body from inside the house.

Who?

We all made it out safely, didn't we? Who could've randomly up and fucking died in our house, and how?

The corpse was somewhat unrecognizable from being charred, but we could still make out patches of skin and hair--they could still make out the patches of skin and hair. The Peacekeepers were still able to identify the body, apparently it's a familiar face they've heard and seen before from people.

...It was...a local citizen who lived on the streets.

...Okay?

They assigned a name to a face.

Lester Kinsley.

Who the FUCK was Lester Kinsley?!

They said he's been seen breaking into houses and leaving with food and other supplies. He was a scavenger--no--a thief, a robber.

So is that what he tried to do with our's? Then why did he die? How?

One day ago. Yesterday. A quick general autopsy was taken from Lester's body to Capitol scientists for an explanation as to why he was inside our house and during the fire, they just got the results back to us today through the Peacekeepers.

They found traces of gasoline under his fingernails.

He started the fire.

He started the fire?

No, that doesn't make sense. Why? How? When? That's not a logical explanation.

It wasn't him, it can't have been him.

We were in disbelief, we protested, but they shut us down and threatened us with physical force.

I was angry.

I was seething.

I kept my mouth shut like the assholes they were wanted me to, like the assholes all of them were, but I couldn't take it. I went to Holli.

She would understand.

But she didn't.

Of-fucking-course she didn't.

She thought it "made sense" that it would be her family, that it's the most "realistic" reason for how and why this happened, that there "really can't be anybody else but them who did it."

But she also thought BULLSHIT. She's a FUCKING LIAR.

She told me that regardless of what she thought though, she still believed in "Lester Kinsley" being responsible because of what the Capitol said, what the Peacekeepers said.

She's just like THEM, she doesn't want to LISTEN.

My family doesn't fucking deserve ANY OF THEIR BULLSHIT.

I walked out on her.

The last thing I see as I slam the front door of her house on her face was it twist with sorrow as I hold a pair of sewing scissors and tear away a tie of red between our pinkies with the blades.

She's not worth it anymore.
I don't know anymore.
I don't know what to do anymore.
Nobody believes me, nobody believes us.
Nobody wants to.

Today my sister, brother, and I were taken to the community home by our parents, and they left us there to figure out what to do next. Buy a new house maybe, live with friends, I don't know.

They probably don't, either.

I just know that I'm miserable, and I bury my face in my hands and I start to cry because that's the only thing I know now after going through this hell, these over 48 hours of hell.

How to cry.

Last Edit: Aug 28, 2016 21:02:17 GMT -5 by Gryphon

Made by the lovely moon(stone) <3

Gryphon
Career Tribute

503 POSTS

Pronouns: He/Him
last seen Aug 31, 2020 22:24:24 GMT -5

heading to cloud nine

McCarthy Balmain // D8 // FIN Aug 28, 2016 16:11:47 GMT -5

Post by Gryphon on Aug 28, 2016 16:11:47 GMT -5

Mick and his family were right by the way, it was the Queeneth family who was behind the burning down of their house. A "rat" from the Balmains told Holliday's parents about the gossip that's been going on behind their backs regarding their practices, so in retaliation and fear of it coming around the whole District full-circle and making them lose too many sales (which, they had already started to when word started getting out, but they still managed to maintain a toothpick-sized lead against the Balmains), they secretly plotted with the rat and hired Lester. He broke into the house at close to 4am, glazed the kitchen in gasoline, and ignited it with a lighter. They were never found out because Lester planned to commit suicide around the time they approached him with the plan as he was getting sick of his life, so he, by request, modified the conspiracy into a murder-suicide attempt, and he hid inside the house after setting the kitchen ablaze to expire in the flames.

I had so many ideas for this guy so I approached his bio a lot more differently than how I've done them before so far looool.

Finished. <3

Last Edit: Aug 28, 2016 16:52:01 GMT -5 by Gryphon

Made by the lovely moon(stone) <3

ᴥ Head RP Tutor 4,546 POSTS Pronouns: he/him last seen Apr 19, 2024 16:45:35 GMT -5 oof	McCarthy Balmain // D8 // FIN Aug 29, 2016 0:09:56 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ᴥ on Aug 29, 2016 0:09:56 GMT -5
	the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n