The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth

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The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth Oct 2, 2016 17:53:04 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Oct 2, 2016 17:53:04 GMT -5

They don't tell him a single thing. The only person who shed tears in the Justice Building had been Carter, as he spoke of the times they all had spent playing games like the children that they used to be. None of them were children anymore. No more games of tag or hide and seek to take the days away. The games that Mitchell would be playing was the game of life or death. Survivability was very unlikely in the games. That didn't matter though. Mitchell had been playing the game of survivability since the day he was born into starvation district of twelve. A game of will you eat or not, it was the game most of the poor kids faced everyday and yet he was lucky enough to win by being born a Laws.

As his eyes scanned the one and only Mortuus that was just as unlucky as himself to get their name pulled, all he could do was think of her sister. Celia Mortuus, the vicious tribute of the Seventy Second. The way she used bones of the fallen as armor made his stomach flip and so many questions forming in his mind. Talking wasn't his strong point, but he was going to try anyways, even if it meant getting himself killed. Death was going to come anyways, as Mitchell Laws was made to die. He speaks calmly trying not to provoke Hyacinth Mortuus. "So... Here we are." A pause until an actual thought pops into his head. "You're not gonna use my bones as armor, are you?" Awkward silence for himself as he had never been too good starting up conversation with anyone, especially not girls that could murder him with a swing of a blunt. Mitchell Laws would either die right now to Hyacinth Mortuus or later on to some other person who just wanted to survive. Mitchell Laws was made to die, but it didn't mean he had to die right away.

Last Edit: Oct 2, 2016 17:54:50 GMT -5 by Tom

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The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth Oct 3, 2016 1:54:45 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Oct 3, 2016 1:54:45 GMT -5

H Y A C I N T H

M O R T U U S ;

She didn’t want her final memory of Olive to be the iron grips of Peacekeepers bruising his skin. She didn’t want to remember the brutal reality Eirlys had to offer – we need your organs. She didn't want to think of herself as a canvas for scalpels, but humans were all the same. Death yielded identical results. In Twelve it was not uncommon to find corpses in homes, wasting away as the sun trickled through tattered curtains and rotted their valuable insides.

Death was ugly, and it was coming.

She shuffled into a train too luxurious for her liking. Carpeted floors and gold goblets reminded her of Celia, the way she flaunted the Mortuus wealth. It was no wonder the District hated them. After Celia, there was no redemption.

She didn’t know what to think of a strange boy and their shared death sentence. He decided to break the ice the way men always did, and her insides recoiled at the words. ”You're not gonna use my bones as armor, are you?”

Certain evils could not be defended. To carve a child up and use her bones as weak plates of armor – was it resourceful or was it sport? It never helped her in the long run. She was still six feet underground, and a piece of her was in the back of Hyacinth’s pocket. ”I’m not my sister,” she said, level-headed. There was no temperament to squeeze out of this broken shell. She was not Celia, and she never would be.

Maybe that gave her a chance. Or maybe I’m doomed all the same.

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The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth Oct 3, 2016 20:02:07 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Oct 3, 2016 20:02:07 GMT -5

Mother used to tell him that when she was younger that her sister had been nothing like her. Sisters of the same blood, but different in the way they speak and move. Hyacinth and Celia were not the same, they would never be the same. Mitchell knew this. Mitchell knew how it was. Jack and him were not the same. Carter and him were not the same. Mitchell was his own person with his own mind, just like Hyacinth was her own person with her own mind. His feet shift slightly on the red carpet. Red carpet that reminded him of the pools of blood from the Seventy Third. Blood that pumped through their veins, that was the color of the carpet and he hated it more than he thought he would. Gold goblets to drink from, yet he didn't feel as hungry anymore as he would have guessed he was.

A smile pulls softly at his cheeks, even though it was a foreign thing to do. Smiles were a rarity, but it didn't mean he could change that himself. Speaking of the dead was something that his father frowned upon, but the dead were the ones who knew more than any living person. Mitchell knew how it was to have siblings, he didn't know how it was to lose any, as he would possibly be the first of the Laws to go. Words find their way into the air, "Good." Light heartedness is what he wanted it to sound like, but Mitchell was never good with emotions. It was a weakness and strength in it's own way. The world would soon know who Mitchell Laws was. The spotlight would be on the twenty four tributes and nothing could prepare him for that.

"We don't need another Celia Mortuus." The words were kind, even if they seemed more blunt than kind. Mitchell wasn't one to call out anyone for their actions, but Celia Mortuus died for being Celia Mortuus, the deranged girl from District Twelve. Hyacinth seemed different. A good different. A different that Mitchell would like to see more of, too bad that they couldn't have known each other before being reaped. Mitchell would have liked to learn who the real Hyacinth Mortuus was, just for the fact that she didn't seem like how he would expect. The next words to come out are calmer than he's used to, "Since that's settled. Can we just drown ourselves in the alcohol?"

Last Edit: Oct 3, 2016 20:06:11 GMT -5 by Tom

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The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth Oct 5, 2016 12:43:13 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Oct 5, 2016 12:43:13 GMT -5

H Y A C I N T H

M O R T U U S ;

There could be no other Celia Mortuus. She had a unique evil about her that no human being could replicate. She was no Scout Fray, born with bloodlust. She had her shameless attitude, and her drive to be successful by any means possible – including mutilation. It was the Mortuus way taken to the extreme, and it would forever paint her as a devil nobody ever wanted to see again.

How they could share blood and remain so vastly different was her least favorite mystery.

She could see his attempt at kindness, but she didn’t care what he said. Nothing about Celia would offend her; she already knew the country celebrated after her death, especially those in Twelve, who refused to live up to such a savage standard. Hyacinth was no different. She was cold, but she didn’t have a temper. She could enjoy her wealth all the same, knowing what sacrifices had to be made to achieve it. She knew better than anyone.

She was no Celia Mortuus.

The cushions of the train’s seats were softer than pillows. She eyed the glass bottles of dark liquor and wondered how many tributes would spend their first hour drinking themselves into despair. ”Not interested,” she muttered. Alcohol was an escape that never worked, and in her line of business it only caused problems. She did, however, appreciate the invitation.

”It’s never done me any good.”

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The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth Oct 7, 2016 0:39:06 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Oct 7, 2016 0:39:06 GMT -5

"Not interested,"

The words were something he's heard time and time again for other things. Every time he's questioned Jack if he wanted to go steal something with him, the answer was not interested. Time and time again Mitchell had heard the words flow into his ear. Every time he would just shake it off, but time and time again the words filled him with a sense of disconnection from Jack. THe words didn't only apply to Jack and Mitchell. The way Jasper moved around like Mitchell was nothing made him imagine the words littered upon his skin. Not interested in Mitchell Laws. The words tattooed to his skin like the word failure was to his own. Mitchell wanted something with Jasper, even if Jasper didn't want the same thing with him. And yet the words ignite a fire within Mitchell's body. His blood pumps faster as his fists clench, but alcohol wasn't something to get mad over.

Anger. It was hard to get rid of, but Mitchell was a master of it. Jack angered him so much, yet he somehow kept such a cool head when it came to stuff. He's paying attention to her next words like they were the only thing that can save the world from total annihilation. ”It’s never done me any good.” Mitchell wants to laugh with her about alcohol. It's never done Mitchell any good either. Only massive headaches, injuries, and stupid words that had fallen from his lips. Alcohol was something that soothed his insides and allowed the fear of speaking disappear for once. As he watches her, he pours himself a glass of something that resembled a bottle of scotch. Words fall from his lips jokingly, "Just more for me I guess." Harder alcohol was hard to get your hands on, but with the rich family of Laws, it had been easier to get ahold of. Mitchell had only had it once and yet it was still his favorite. A smile flows with kindness, words fall from his lips like they were meant to. Kindness with every word.

"So Hyacinth, cheers to our deaths. May they be quick and painless."

The words echo for a second and he tosses the drink back. The liquid burning his stomach in the best way possible. With alcohol now in his blood, all he can do is smile. Words seem to flow a bit less hesitantly like his mind has finally opened up to the idea of speaking, "Unless you plan on winning? Which is fine. I'll help you if I can. Would you want that?" Stupid, that's what he felt it had been, but he couldn't care less. When the words come out, may as well hold them high and back them up when you can. The smile upon his face fades for a moment, the words of Carter finding their way into his head. Come home Mitchy. Mitchell's own words coming back to haunt him again, I can't Carter. He couldn't unless he was in a body bag labelled M. Laws.

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The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth Oct 10, 2016 14:55:49 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Oct 10, 2016 14:55:49 GMT -5

H Y A C I N T H

M O R T U U S ;

Cheers.

She couldn’t feign any amount of sarcastic enthusiasm. It was not within her to accept the inevitability of death when her family would be hanging by a thread without her. Even when she signed away the permission to donate her organs, she couldn’t imagine herself on that surgical table with her skin split open, insides exposed. She couldn’t imagine shipping her heart off to another district. The belief of death as a sweet release was not the case, because if she died it would be with the faces of her family haunting the skies above her head.

She would die knowing that they were all dead too.

The alcohol didn’t sound so bad anymore, but she made no effort to join him. ”Unless you plan on winning?” he continued, and she imagined his breath laced with the stench of liquor. She would welcome that smell over a seat in this train. It couldn’t be inebriation causing him to say such ridiculous things, so what was it? Was his death sentence acceptable? Was it the odds spelling it out in front of him? You’re dead. Except Hyacinth had suddenly forgotten how to read.

”Do you not plan on winning?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. ”I have a family to protect.”

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The Laws of the Dead [D12 Train blitz] Mitchell/Hyacinth Oct 12, 2016 1:21:48 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Oct 12, 2016 1:21:48 GMT -5

Mitchell Laws would die.

Mitchell Laws wasn't meant to fight in something like the Hunger Games. His brother had told him so. Jack's eyes screamed that he was a dead man, even if he didn't say it, Mitchell could read it. A skill of growing up with Jack, he could read every emotion and see if it was fake or not. Jack told him that he could make it back, but the eyes told him that he couldn't. Jack knew that Mitchell was going to die, so Mitchell was going to die. Jack was never wrong in these sort of things, which only tears his heart apart like everything had before. As he reaches for the sweet liquor that will save him from thinking, all he can do is think through the alcohol haze. Death. Life. Whatever was coming to him, he would have to accept, for it was the only thing that would be happening to him.

He barely hears her over his own thoughts, words that he didn't expect to hear coming from someone like Hyacinth Mortuus and yet, they seemed to fit her perfectly. ”Do you not plan on winning?” An eyebrow raised and soon enough, he feels his mind looking at her like he did with Jasper, sizing her up. If they were in any other situation, Mitchell would have asked Hyacinth Mortuus to a date that wouldn't have been a date, but this wasn't District Twelve and he didn't like Hyacinth Mortuus in that way. She speaks again of the one thing that he does not want to think of, even with alcohol in his blood, it tears at his skin like a knife. ”I have a family to protect.”

His family didn't need his protection. Not anymore. They would protect themselves from the things that they saw upon the screen where he would die a death that would be perfect and typical of a District Twelve male. His voice escapes him with the answer he already knew, "No. I don't plan on winning." A sigh escapes his breath, alcohol in the smell of it, and all he can do is continue his words. "I have a family, but they don't need me to protect them. Not anymore." Another glass of whiskey and he can feel it start to make his body feel at ease with it's own self. The air fills with a tension that was already there, he breaks it again for Hyacinth Mortuus.

"I hope you make it back to them Hyacinth. Thoughts run through his mind like they did every time he spoke. There was only one thing he could say. Hyacinth Mortuus needed to live more than Mitchell Laws did, no matter what had to happen for her to go home. "Even if it means killing me in the process."