gardens in the desert sand {charade}
Nov 6, 2016 18:54:21 GMT -5
Post by Lyn𝛿is on Nov 6, 2016 18:54:21 GMT -5
[googlefont="Aguafina Script:400"]
OOC: charade
Shula Bodaway
You know, for everything my parents understand about me, they've never understood that I enjoy watching the Hunger Games.
There. I said it. Now, if people knew that, they'd wonder if I were one of those wannabe-Careers, living for a chance to murder people. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those, if any even exist in Five, it's not like I enjoy the fact the Games exist, or spend my time hoping I'll get reaped. But there's a certain sort of elegance in the ingenuity of the tributes, in the way the flames dance across their blade as they fight. God, I sound like a sicko, thinking that, given it's probably one of the Capitol's reasons for being obsessed with them after all. I used to beg my parents to watch reruns of Cricket Antoinette's games - she breathes fire, how cool is that?! - but it always made them look at me funny, and I learned there are worse things to like than the flames.
Then again, watching the Games was how I learned to make fire again in the first place, or the second place I guess, especially given how they were so careful to hide all the matches and stuff away from me after I got diagnosed. I figured if the tributes could do it then so could I. Yeah, that didn't go so well the first few times I tried. I nearly burned down our house, and the more my parents tried to stop me the bigger the urge got to burn something. It's not so bad now that I've got it all figured out, though.
There's not many people out in the streets at this hour; the scorching sun keeps them away, and the wind is powerless against the heat. The people here call it the devil-wind 'cause it supposedly makes everyone anxious and angry, on account of it bringing on this hot, dry weather and serving the element of fire. Some people claim the devil part of it comes from Ten. Maybe that's why that Ten kid keeps going on about Ripred this and Ripred that. Me? I think it feels like home. The sun is another master, who paints the freckles on my cheeks and the shading of my skin. This is what I live in. This is who I am.
A flicker of orange catches my vision from an alleyway, a splash of color in an otherwise desolate area of the district. Fire, is my first thought as my steps draw me closer, on instinct, but it's not. No smoke, no burning smell. No Peacekeepers, not that most of them care about things burning down as long as they're not important. Closer still, and I see all sorts of other colors as well, the unfinished mural such a refreshing sight in this part of town that I can barely be disappointed it wasn't a fire. As well as a girl, standing suspiciously nearby.
"Hey, this yours?" I ask the girl, gesturing at the mural. Yeah, I know, I'm supposed to walk straight to the grocery store and not get caught up in anything along the way, but what's the fun in that? Probably a nicer warning than 'don't burn anything down', but still. I mean, I bet she's not exactly allowed here either.
There. I said it. Now, if people knew that, they'd wonder if I were one of those wannabe-Careers, living for a chance to murder people. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those, if any even exist in Five, it's not like I enjoy the fact the Games exist, or spend my time hoping I'll get reaped. But there's a certain sort of elegance in the ingenuity of the tributes, in the way the flames dance across their blade as they fight. God, I sound like a sicko, thinking that, given it's probably one of the Capitol's reasons for being obsessed with them after all. I used to beg my parents to watch reruns of Cricket Antoinette's games - she breathes fire, how cool is that?! - but it always made them look at me funny, and I learned there are worse things to like than the flames.
Then again, watching the Games was how I learned to make fire again in the first place, or the second place I guess, especially given how they were so careful to hide all the matches and stuff away from me after I got diagnosed. I figured if the tributes could do it then so could I. Yeah, that didn't go so well the first few times I tried. I nearly burned down our house, and the more my parents tried to stop me the bigger the urge got to burn something. It's not so bad now that I've got it all figured out, though.
There's not many people out in the streets at this hour; the scorching sun keeps them away, and the wind is powerless against the heat. The people here call it the devil-wind 'cause it supposedly makes everyone anxious and angry, on account of it bringing on this hot, dry weather and serving the element of fire. Some people claim the devil part of it comes from Ten. Maybe that's why that Ten kid keeps going on about Ripred this and Ripred that. Me? I think it feels like home. The sun is another master, who paints the freckles on my cheeks and the shading of my skin. This is what I live in. This is who I am.
A flicker of orange catches my vision from an alleyway, a splash of color in an otherwise desolate area of the district. Fire, is my first thought as my steps draw me closer, on instinct, but it's not. No smoke, no burning smell. No Peacekeepers, not that most of them care about things burning down as long as they're not important. Closer still, and I see all sorts of other colors as well, the unfinished mural such a refreshing sight in this part of town that I can barely be disappointed it wasn't a fire. As well as a girl, standing suspiciously nearby.
"Hey, this yours?" I ask the girl, gesturing at the mural. Yeah, I know, I'm supposed to walk straight to the grocery store and not get caught up in anything along the way, but what's the fun in that? Probably a nicer warning than 'don't burn anything down', but still. I mean, I bet she's not exactly allowed here either.
OOC: charade
