Sativa Prizemni {D1}
Dec 18, 2016 22:24:39 GMT -5
Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Dec 18, 2016 22:24:39 GMT -5
Two Minds : One Soul
Sativa
Prizemni
Crystal green eyes desperately stared upon her female Parental figure. “Mommy…” She cried out for while tear droplets refused to match her pitch. Ever since she was even younger, her stubborn eyelids have rejected any salty liquid to be discharged to her cheeks. But at that moment her voice was pleading for a response from her Mother.
Even to this Day sobs have abstained from streaming down her features. In a house occupied solely by Fighters, weakness is a luxury none of them can afford to absorb for even a moment. With a mirror reflection of her exterior consistently by her side, she must always level to her Twin. Breaking may not occur for a mere second. Identical qualities supposedly match their physical appearance, while their personalities clash with similarities and opposition. Sativa’s love for her other half is unmistakable though, just as much as their collisions are.
Light waves of a deep brown tint collapses past both of the Twins’ shoulders, as though stitched from the same scalp. But Indica cares for her desired locks, just as she does with every aspect of her display; where as Sativa ignores the knots and tangles derived from a gruesome battle in the mud. Over bearing muscles and scum separate her cloned body from the attractive nature her Sister possesses. A brush struggles through her hair in preparation for their annual journey. Though their Mom never did mind the ruggedness of a determined Trainer. She just did continuously prefer Indica.
Perhaps it is Indie's diligence that had gained their Mother's favoritism. A brawl amongst the dirt never encourages her to retrieval, while somehow she maintains a neat manner in such ruggedness. And again Sativa's approach differs, as her uncaring demeanor has her bathing within the filth. Her lack of ability to strategies in any aspect leaves her body susceptible to harsh brutalities in combats, though her strength overrides an Opponent's easy win. This nature practically paints masculinity across her features, discoloring her from the attractive qualities her Twin pertains. Indica's skilled intelligence and plans immaculate her dodging, and is often the key to their victories.
From the very beginning Indica captured their Mother’s attention with ease. The first day she released her Twins to the freedom of trees, Indie illustrated the elite genetics she was harvesting. Grace lifted her from branch to branch, while Sativa relied on solely strength to remain afloat. At an early age it was a competition to see who could be differentiated as the one with more potential. And evidently Sadie never had a chance within their Mother’s view.
“Ready Indie?” But if it came to exiting the House the quickest, Sadie would certainly be the champion.
“Am I ever ready when you are Sativa?” That must be rhetorical, as they’re both fully aware of that answer. Without an ounce of surprise, Sativa declines into a seat in her Sister’s room.
Patience has definitely been instilled in her over the years. Despite the contrast the Twins still pertain, they combine to a pristine team. Confidently Indica’s intelligence orchestrates all plans required. And Sativa’s bottomless starvation for trouble waits for instructions. Together they can overpower any other Career duos that are too cocky for their underwear. Or they may achieve a new skill to improve their intimidation. And occasionally there’s just pure mayhem to create. Either way, it’s rare to witness them apart.
“Hurry up!” Sativa begs in an uncommon whine, and throws a stray dart into the wooden vanity a foot from her Sister. Out of the house, she’s a man of few words; while in the sanctuary of Home, her words don’t fret from a sibling manner.
Even at a younger age, Indica avoided immature communications. Most likely this is the reason Sativa allows her to deal with the Strangers. The Panem must solely be impressed by the raised ruthless Twins. Though her minimal speech did not occur until their Mother's resignation, when she was merely eight years old. That day she gained respect for Indie's pristine ways, and resigned from her determined competition against her. Though of course this does not mean that they reject innocent quarrels between them while in the shelter of their land.
Since they were babies, their Parents complained over how they routinely bicker at one minute and are giggling at the next. Perhaps this is why solely a grin actions Sativa’s lips while in public. Often she never disagrees with Indica’s wisdom. But debates crave for the butt of their hardheads. And while in the sight of the community, they must appear entirely coherent with one another. When it’s time for conflict against the outside, their unison is undeniable.
“Girls!” Their Father called out for with heavy concern lacing his tone. In the pitch darkness of sleeping hours, he finally discovered his eight-year-old Twins rattling upon the towering wings of trees. It didn’t take much longer for his eyes to widen in comprehension. Their Mother had abandoned them all.
Just like that day, breaking twigs disturb their senses as they travel through the thick trees of District One. “Don’t you think it’s time Dad started getting back out there? You know, dating and all.” Indica questions during their stroll through the enclosed wildness they’re privileged to have. Undoubtedly other Careers are roaming through this terrain in Training. But fear no longer quivers either of the Girls, even when a weapon may whip past at any given time.
A shrug gestures from Sativa’s shoulders in response. After ten dreadful years of course their Father deserves a new companion. But both answers feel selfish. Every day all of his energy goes towards educating and developing immaculate Careers. His life has been dedicated to not allowing another to shrivel from the safety of his control. Survival requirements are regularly scripted into his three Children’s brains. The true wonder is whether he’ll ever accept a new romance into his existence.
Wilderness training has been their Parents specialty since the Twins were even conceived. Practicing in an air-conditioned gym was idiotic to them both. The outdoors is the closest resemblance one could ever get to an Arena in their view. Even when Mother escaped through these very trees, Father’s perspective repelled altercation. The income from being a Trainer keeps his family as wealthy as the majority. And his persistence to prevent the past from reoccurring keeps him distracted.
Simultaneously both of the Girls cave to their knees, beneath the tree they were trapped upon a decade ago. “Are we ever going to bring Hybrid here? Tell him what…” Sativa seeks for her Sister’s logical intelligence. Their little Brother was a mere four at the time of Mother’s resignation. And though he’s been properly bred into the ideal warrior, they have yet to ever break the truth to him.
“Mommy…” Sativa’s voice depleted into sorrow, along with Indica’s. After critical hesitation they accepted departure from the vast height within their Father’s cradle. Another instant wasn’t wasted as they fled to their depleting Mother. Crisp temperature had plagued her decaying corps. Hours of crushed, inactive lungs could not be resuscitated. Fear had frozen the Twins upon the treetops their Mom had crumbled from. They were debilitated from rescuing their Creator. And the unforgiving memory would haunt them ever since.
The nightmare of what occurred to their Mother continues to plague Sativa. Fierceness must reign her still, while internally she's forever scarred by the event. Her few words have transferred into an intimidation mechanic, though truthfully it's purely her copping method. Overcoming the gruesome image is only a fibbing mask, that most likely both of the Twins wear. Sativa can only strive to rid of the thought of that moment in each and every future minute to pass.
“Never mind.” Sadie corrects herself on ever sharing this terror with their little Brother. It is a horror she would only curse upon her most heartless enemy. The favoritism towards silence has afflicted her ever since. Anxiety over climbing will forever restrict her, providing another downfall her Sister doesn’t pertain. A single false move can result in the finalization of anyone. There’s no time to master any given skill. Every action must be perfect.
Ten years ago their Mother had illustrated that even the Strongest could destruct. And it’s up to the Twins to prove her wrong.
Even to this Day sobs have abstained from streaming down her features. In a house occupied solely by Fighters, weakness is a luxury none of them can afford to absorb for even a moment. With a mirror reflection of her exterior consistently by her side, she must always level to her Twin. Breaking may not occur for a mere second. Identical qualities supposedly match their physical appearance, while their personalities clash with similarities and opposition. Sativa’s love for her other half is unmistakable though, just as much as their collisions are.
Light waves of a deep brown tint collapses past both of the Twins’ shoulders, as though stitched from the same scalp. But Indica cares for her desired locks, just as she does with every aspect of her display; where as Sativa ignores the knots and tangles derived from a gruesome battle in the mud. Over bearing muscles and scum separate her cloned body from the attractive nature her Sister possesses. A brush struggles through her hair in preparation for their annual journey. Though their Mom never did mind the ruggedness of a determined Trainer. She just did continuously prefer Indica.
Perhaps it is Indie's diligence that had gained their Mother's favoritism. A brawl amongst the dirt never encourages her to retrieval, while somehow she maintains a neat manner in such ruggedness. And again Sativa's approach differs, as her uncaring demeanor has her bathing within the filth. Her lack of ability to strategies in any aspect leaves her body susceptible to harsh brutalities in combats, though her strength overrides an Opponent's easy win. This nature practically paints masculinity across her features, discoloring her from the attractive qualities her Twin pertains. Indica's skilled intelligence and plans immaculate her dodging, and is often the key to their victories.
From the very beginning Indica captured their Mother’s attention with ease. The first day she released her Twins to the freedom of trees, Indie illustrated the elite genetics she was harvesting. Grace lifted her from branch to branch, while Sativa relied on solely strength to remain afloat. At an early age it was a competition to see who could be differentiated as the one with more potential. And evidently Sadie never had a chance within their Mother’s view.
“Ready Indie?” But if it came to exiting the House the quickest, Sadie would certainly be the champion.
“Am I ever ready when you are Sativa?” That must be rhetorical, as they’re both fully aware of that answer. Without an ounce of surprise, Sativa declines into a seat in her Sister’s room.
Patience has definitely been instilled in her over the years. Despite the contrast the Twins still pertain, they combine to a pristine team. Confidently Indica’s intelligence orchestrates all plans required. And Sativa’s bottomless starvation for trouble waits for instructions. Together they can overpower any other Career duos that are too cocky for their underwear. Or they may achieve a new skill to improve their intimidation. And occasionally there’s just pure mayhem to create. Either way, it’s rare to witness them apart.
“Hurry up!” Sativa begs in an uncommon whine, and throws a stray dart into the wooden vanity a foot from her Sister. Out of the house, she’s a man of few words; while in the sanctuary of Home, her words don’t fret from a sibling manner.
Even at a younger age, Indica avoided immature communications. Most likely this is the reason Sativa allows her to deal with the Strangers. The Panem must solely be impressed by the raised ruthless Twins. Though her minimal speech did not occur until their Mother's resignation, when she was merely eight years old. That day she gained respect for Indie's pristine ways, and resigned from her determined competition against her. Though of course this does not mean that they reject innocent quarrels between them while in the shelter of their land.
Since they were babies, their Parents complained over how they routinely bicker at one minute and are giggling at the next. Perhaps this is why solely a grin actions Sativa’s lips while in public. Often she never disagrees with Indica’s wisdom. But debates crave for the butt of their hardheads. And while in the sight of the community, they must appear entirely coherent with one another. When it’s time for conflict against the outside, their unison is undeniable.
“Girls!” Their Father called out for with heavy concern lacing his tone. In the pitch darkness of sleeping hours, he finally discovered his eight-year-old Twins rattling upon the towering wings of trees. It didn’t take much longer for his eyes to widen in comprehension. Their Mother had abandoned them all.
Just like that day, breaking twigs disturb their senses as they travel through the thick trees of District One. “Don’t you think it’s time Dad started getting back out there? You know, dating and all.” Indica questions during their stroll through the enclosed wildness they’re privileged to have. Undoubtedly other Careers are roaming through this terrain in Training. But fear no longer quivers either of the Girls, even when a weapon may whip past at any given time.
A shrug gestures from Sativa’s shoulders in response. After ten dreadful years of course their Father deserves a new companion. But both answers feel selfish. Every day all of his energy goes towards educating and developing immaculate Careers. His life has been dedicated to not allowing another to shrivel from the safety of his control. Survival requirements are regularly scripted into his three Children’s brains. The true wonder is whether he’ll ever accept a new romance into his existence.
Wilderness training has been their Parents specialty since the Twins were even conceived. Practicing in an air-conditioned gym was idiotic to them both. The outdoors is the closest resemblance one could ever get to an Arena in their view. Even when Mother escaped through these very trees, Father’s perspective repelled altercation. The income from being a Trainer keeps his family as wealthy as the majority. And his persistence to prevent the past from reoccurring keeps him distracted.
Simultaneously both of the Girls cave to their knees, beneath the tree they were trapped upon a decade ago. “Are we ever going to bring Hybrid here? Tell him what…” Sativa seeks for her Sister’s logical intelligence. Their little Brother was a mere four at the time of Mother’s resignation. And though he’s been properly bred into the ideal warrior, they have yet to ever break the truth to him.
“Mommy…” Sativa’s voice depleted into sorrow, along with Indica’s. After critical hesitation they accepted departure from the vast height within their Father’s cradle. Another instant wasn’t wasted as they fled to their depleting Mother. Crisp temperature had plagued her decaying corps. Hours of crushed, inactive lungs could not be resuscitated. Fear had frozen the Twins upon the treetops their Mom had crumbled from. They were debilitated from rescuing their Creator. And the unforgiving memory would haunt them ever since.
The nightmare of what occurred to their Mother continues to plague Sativa. Fierceness must reign her still, while internally she's forever scarred by the event. Her few words have transferred into an intimidation mechanic, though truthfully it's purely her copping method. Overcoming the gruesome image is only a fibbing mask, that most likely both of the Twins wear. Sativa can only strive to rid of the thought of that moment in each and every future minute to pass.
“Never mind.” Sadie corrects herself on ever sharing this terror with their little Brother. It is a horror she would only curse upon her most heartless enemy. The favoritism towards silence has afflicted her ever since. Anxiety over climbing will forever restrict her, providing another downfall her Sister doesn’t pertain. A single false move can result in the finalization of anyone. There’s no time to master any given skill. Every action must be perfect.
Ten years ago their Mother had illustrated that even the Strongest could destruct. And it’s up to the Twins to prove her wrong.
District One
18 years old
Female
18 years old
Female
