this unquiet dying { eszter.

Deleted

0 POSTS
last seen Apr 19, 2024 17:25:44 GMT -5

this unquiet dying { eszter. Feb 28, 2017 16:33:51 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 16:33:51 GMT -5

Ow.

ow.

ow.

ow.

Ow shit, god, forgive my swearing - it started to get numbing, dear lord. Swift rolling down an opposing staircase, Scarlett's foot steps cold on my mind like an echo, like a possession in every time my head knocks against a staircase step- can you double break a nose. A problem I never really faced back in th- ow - day, god how long have I been rolling.

It's really hard to keep my tongue to myself, besides grunts and dear lords but god FUCK- oh lord, that felt uh
no

Yeah no I did not like that. Asriel's cracking fist against my face hurt less- oh.

"hello."

My tied up body bounces from a stair, hitting something in her knees as I land with some grunt on my face again and at this point it's really not worth mentioning. I've never held much concern for my appearance but after rolling down flights of stairs, partaking in a fist fight with a fellow tied up companion and escaping a frenzy of fired fists- I don't care.

I just want to sleep.

"Don't leave me, please." I never fancied myself a beggar, but this is about new experiences. Can't say any church camp taught me as much in as little time.

Ha.

table by elegant

d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi
Advertiser

1,828 POSTS

Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Apr 6, 2024 0:45:24 GMT -5

basically miss america

this unquiet dying { eszter. Feb 28, 2017 16:54:50 GMT -5

Quote

Post by d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi on Feb 28, 2017 16:54:50 GMT -5

E S Z T E R

I was in a daze.

Standing there. Thinking.

Of what I was. Of what I am. Of what I’m becoming.

I realized eventually how I was standing in the open, vulnerable. Anybody could have came up and killed me, but they didn’t. I decided I needed to leave before they changed their minds. So with my saber strapped across my back and against my better judgement I made my way towards the mansion.

In minutes I found myself lost and confused unsure of how I got where I am, but desperately looking for a way out. I close my eyes, trying to picture my path, and the next thing I know I’m face down on the ground with something on top of me.

“What the fuck,”

“Hello,”

A voice, great. Just what I wanted to see. A person.

“Get. Off.”

I say between breaths as I struggle to pull myself out from under him. Finally I’m free and I no longer feel as if my lungs are collapsing. I look at the culprit and can’t help but laugh, pathetic.

“Well, you seem to be taken care of,”

And I turn my back, ready to be on my way. Knowing someone else will find him and most likely kill him.

“Don’t leave me, please,”

A agitated sigh escapes from between my lips.

Damn it.

I turn back around and use my foot to flip him over so I can at least see his face, not caring if I’m gentle or not. My eyes narrow and I think.

“Got anything useful?”

If he’s going to die I may as well take his shit before someone else does.Because for someone reason, I don’t think I’m ready to have someone else’s blood on my hands.

At least not yet.

table by fox

Last Edit: Feb 28, 2017 16:58:31 GMT -5 by d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi

❝ moon dust in your hair, stars in your eyes ❞

Deleted

0 POSTS
last seen Apr 19, 2024 17:25:44 GMT -5

this unquiet dying { eszter. Feb 28, 2017 17:10:15 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 17:10:15 GMT -5

"Get. OFF."

She sounds like a- uhh, not so good person. Harsh, yes, my hands clutched to my sides as she sidles underneath me - "sorry, sorry- I'm normally not like this" - I'm normally not catapulted at people. God, this is weird- everything is so, weird. Unearthly, the stair cases, Scarlett, the crayons, this mansion, dear god the walrus. I miss it.

I'm kicked onto my back, breathing heavy- face bruised and broken and lord, "I must look like a mess, ha."

"Got anything useful?"

Dear god a pirate.

I've never been robbed before, and less than that I've never been robbed while tied up in wire and fur coats. "I-" and see, I was going to lie, say I had something real good in my back pack if she untied me, but I stare into her eyes and realize- she's alone. She's as alone as I am, and maybe she's seen murder, maybe she's seen it before this all happened, but I need her as much as she may need me and-

"Not unless you like art supplies."

But boy oh boy, if she likes crayons I have five of them now, so I'm in luck. God this is ridiculous.

table by elegant

d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi
Advertiser

1,828 POSTS

Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Apr 6, 2024 0:45:24 GMT -5

basically miss america

this unquiet dying { eszter. Feb 28, 2017 18:49:29 GMT -5

Quote

Post by d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi on Feb 28, 2017 18:49:29 GMT -5

E S Z T E R

My mind is wondering again.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never been like this. It must be the arena getting to me, making me delusional. That is the only answer. I force myself to focus on the boy and somewhere deep down I feel bad for him.

Somewhere very very deep down inside.

“Sorry, sorry- I’m not normally like this,”

And I can’t help but roll my eyes. Yeah okay bud, whatever you say. Someone who manages to get tied up and roll down multiple flights of stairs must be accustomed to things like this by now.

“I must look like a mess, ha,”

Another sigh escapes my lips. Trust me, you look like more than a mess dude. If he wasn’t talking to me right now I honestly wouldn’t be sure if he was alive or not. I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for him to tell me what he has. My eyes narrow, I can tell he’s thinking about lying, but surprisingly he doesn’t.

“Not unless you like art supplies,”

My eyebrows raise and my mouth drops open a little.

“Um, are you a little slow in the head or something?”

But there’s a part of me that feels like he doesn’t actually know, like he has literally been tied up since the bloodbath, unaware of what these crayons actually do. I grab the tan one from my bag and approach the wall, a pretty good canvas if you ask me. I carefully draw a few lines, about the length of my body and connect them. I draw a base and some swirly patterns in the frame. A mirror, one where I can easily see my whole body. It’s been some time since I’ve gotten to see myself, and I need to see how bad of shape I’m actually in. It slowly takes itself away from the wall, coming to life, and my reflection stares back at me.

“Yeah these crayons, actually kind of useful,”

I roll my eyes a second time, but I can’t help but bring my gaze back to my reflection. My face is covered in dirt and blood and my eyes already looked tired. I press my hand against the glass. Barely a day and I hardly recognize myself.

This is not what I expected.

table by fox

❝ moon dust in your hair, stars in your eyes ❞

Deleted

0 POSTS
last seen Apr 19, 2024 17:25:44 GMT -5

this unquiet dying { eszter. Feb 28, 2017 19:05:20 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 19:05:20 GMT -5

I try to sit myself up, lurching and groaning for a second as the girl waltzes around, the pit of my stomach sore. "Um," condescending, "are you a little slow in the head or something?" She sounds like one of my sisters, I don't take the time to pinpoint - "huh." I know I'm not the smartest, I don't really proud myself in it, for I'm literate enough in things that matter, in all those sorts- I don't have time for crayon drawings.

A roll of the eyes, she takes one of her crayons to the wall, okay. I can't complain much, for she hasn't killed me, stolen from me and left me for dead - which is better than Scarlett can say. Surprisingly the best treatment I've gotten today, I wish I could laugh it off; what did I expect. And I know I can't blame her, or Scarlett, as it's a game of thorns and I came knowing only one of us would live.

I should never have begged for an easy deat-

"what the hell."

Forgive my language.

Slowly it emerges, materializing from tan marks - "oh no, oh no-" a mirror. Oh lord, "I do not like this," wide eyes, furred brows, a sullen look on a face I can't even picture, "no, no thank you." I shake my head, staring between my knees and trying to ignore this.

All of this.

"Yeah these crayons," she looks back at me, "actually kind of useful." Actually kind of useful, for a second I let it burn me. That I'm less useful than one crayon, but then I remember I have five. I have five whatever-I-wants, whatever I need and all I have to do is draw them- all I need is-

"Can you untie me," her.

("Please.")

table by elegant

d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi
Advertiser

1,828 POSTS

Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Apr 6, 2024 0:45:24 GMT -5

basically miss america

this unquiet dying { eszter. Feb 28, 2017 19:48:29 GMT -5

Quote

Post by d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi on Feb 28, 2017 19:48:29 GMT -5

E S Z T E R

He seems lost. Confused. Like he doesn’t actually want to be here.

Why the hell did he volunteer then.

He seems like an out of place kid, like me. Maybe that’s why. He did to escape. That’s why I’m here, I could care less about some stupid plastic crown.

He watches as I draw, the most confused I’ve seem him.

“What the hell,”

“Wow church boy curses, impressive,”

Not really. He’s going to have to step it up if he wants to stick around.

“Oh no, oh no. I do not like this No, no thank you,”

My eyes are going to start hurting from rolling them so much. This boy is already giving me a headache. I step away from the mirror and just look at him. He seems so fascinated, but also like he’s witnessed a mortal sin.

“Can you untie me, please,”

I hesitate for a moment, thinking. What will I get out of this, if anything? It’s not like this boy will actually be able to hurt me. As if. But since when have I become a nice person. I take a step towards him and stop. A smirk crosses my lips.

“If I untie you, you’re going to owe me. I’m going to need you to fetch me things. So you can stick around with me until I feel like your debt is paid off. Got it? Good,”

I bend over and grab the ropes holding him together, tugging, trying to release him. I probably end up tightening them more than anything.

”Oops,”

I shrug a little and think. Oh wait, I have a weapon now. I grab the saber off my back and slice through the ropes half hesitantly. I stand up and brush my clothes off, glancing another peek in the mirror. I speak again before he can even open his mouth to try and take me.

“Listen, just because I untied you does not mean we are friends. We will never be friends. And if you piss me off enough I won’t hesitate to kill you,”

I do not have friends. I do not have friends anywhere.

Especially here.

table by fox

Last Edit: Feb 28, 2017 19:50:10 GMT -5 by d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi

❝ moon dust in your hair, stars in your eyes ❞

Deleted

0 POSTS
last seen Apr 19, 2024 17:25:44 GMT -5

this unquiet dying { eszter. Feb 28, 2017 20:28:28 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 20:28:28 GMT -5

"Wow church boy curses," church boy, that's me. My back lurched over and my head near between my knees, "I-" oh no. What did I say? There are far more curses than the ones that have left my mouth, eyes traced upon her hands, oh lord.

"Impressive."

"Hell is no curses friend," my eyes relax a little, as much as my twitching face can, "only a promise." And I try to smile, promise I do - and I am not one for lies - but god, after falling a flight of stairs with as many breaks in my bones, my muscles ache far too much.

She smirks over me, something not so sinister but greedy? A familiar face- she reminds me far too much of Scarlett, only bound to earth. "If I untie you, you're going to owe me," my neck twitches, my body shaking after being condemned from basically heaven itself- "I'm going to need you to fetch me some things."

"Things."

It's not a greed, I want to tell myself, only something of fair trade, something more humane than this day has brought me - I can't tell what I want at this point. Whether it be sin and condemning, or to die something golden; "So you can stick around with me until I feel like your debt is paid off." I've read enough about deals with the devil to know this is far too much.

"Got it?"

But she is no devil, for I know him myself in the form of Scarlett Stroms.

"Good."

And as she bends over behind me, messing with the knot of her mess, I know whether or not my lord approves that this girl said it for me -- I'm down my own path of wreckage. My lord, it crosses my heart, for if this is what my lord made then he is none of mine, I've decided. And it's a break of focus as she tightens it across my hands, burning with fur bite for a second, "oops," something comical.

I can't focus on it.

Not until she whips out her sword, blade, I don't know the specific name but it's branded in my gut, a churning thing, "uhh-" digging it between my wrists and the fur and oh god, oh god- "be careful-"
she's done before I have the time to panic.

How are these people so good with weapons? Already so good with their hands and blades, I understand it was only wire but how are they not afraid- I bite my tongue. "Listen,"

"yes."

I do not stand, rubbing rope burn across my wrists, "just because I untied you does not mean we are friends." Oh, oh no- wait, wait this is good; at least she will not back stab me at the most. Stupid, I'm still going to fall for it, I know, but- "we will never be friends."

Hmm. "And if you piss me enough I won't hesitate to kill you." And a part of me wants to ask if it's a promise, like hell after this slice of eternity, but I know it is.

"At least it means we are not enemies," I say to the palms of my hands, not looking at her - "yes?"

I reach into my bag, half hopeful, half hopeless -- five crayons. Black, gold, blue, peach, outer space- no yellow, I am not surprised. There's a feeling of guilt on them, shame- disgust. I am not supposed to have friends, nor a life at this point, I planned to be dead by yesterday and it's so strange to see my life on a timeline.

To already live past expiration dates.

For me to live is to take time away from another; I can't tell if that is greed or human. I can't tell if there's a difference anymore.

"I don't know where to begin."

// WIP WIP, kari and i ran out of time so until we can blurb out interactions I'mma just skip to the good good crayons

I always liked the color lavender, something softer than the world I was around, a color as soft as I am- a weapon. The words still in Eszter's voice, my not friend, that's okay. It's okay, and for a second I'm crossed, and after that I scribble something into the floor, do I have to make this three dimensional? They don't exactly cover this sort of thing before hand, I don't want a weapon to be the first thing I create in this arena. I'm not ready to hold that sort of things in my hands yet, my heart panicky as I draw something simple - a flower.

Like the ones I drew around Brooke's bleeding body, in the shape of a crown.

// skipping to weapon LMAO

"Yes, yes, okay-" a sigh, an extreme inhale and exhale- this is something I have to do.

No comfort in lavender or flowers, the outer space crayon stiff in my hand as I draw along the wall, Eszter's side eye following me- "I'm not sure I know how to draw an axe." A tired smirk, muscles in my face aching, "I can tell."

"Care to help me out, not-friend?"

Double sided, smoother curves across each blade, she doesn't help me any, but it's an axe- how poorly can I make it? "You've got monster hands dude,"

"Monster hands?"

"Make the handle bigger or it'll break."

"Oh. Yes."

A thick handle, gotcha, big enough to fit my monster hands comfortably. God pray this work.

table by elegant

Last Edit: Mar 1, 2017 0:27:48 GMT -5 by Deleted