breathless {hal/axyl}

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d4a tide evros {ems}
Librarian

4,886 POSTS
Pronouns: he/him
last seen Jun 5, 2024 11:47:04 GMT -5

probably flailing over something

breathless {hal/axyl} Feb 14, 2024 15:14:13 GMT -5

Post by d4a tide evros {ems} on Feb 14, 2024 15:14:13 GMT -5

Hours feel like seconds as time flies by, and it only reminds him of the inevitable. Thinking about death is destructive, but how can anyone move forward? How can anyone not think about it when they're thrown into this situation?

A heavy sigh leaves his chest. Every station feels like something to give him hope, yet hope doesn't exist, not in this world where hearts bleed and tears are stained red. It's an awful feeling. A lump sits in the back of his throat - I don't even know how to breathe anymore. It all feels so foreign, so exhausting, so broken, torn, and tattered, but why is this happening? Why is it so hard for people to see the struggles, the broken heart, the cries for help silenced by a mask he wears upon his face. It's only going to get worse from here, and knowing what to expect is impossible.

This is the issue, and maybe that's where he's struggling to grasp onto reality, and instead of comparing himself to others, he needs to focus solely on himself, but it is hard when everyone around him seems so put together.

I am a stranger trapped beneath a web of lies.

But in this moment, he finds hope knowing that it'll all come to an end. This nightmare is only beginning, yet everyone wakes up eventually even if it is in some sort of afterlife where nothing exists.

His eyes lock on the ground as he moves to another station far away from everyone else. Being alone is better than trying to find friends, yet the heaviness of feeling isolated presses against his shoulders, and for the first time in his life, Hal doesn't know what to do. Trapping seems easy enough, and that's why he's hiding and trying to make things better. Maybe nobody will find him. Maybe this is how he can spend his time alone.

At least, for now, being alone is better than nothing.

Credit to Pogue <3

lest we forget [the characters]

credit to Zoe

jupiter graves [d1] 🚀 pogue
Graphics

1,814 POSTS

Pronouns: He/Him
last seen Jun 4, 2024 18:50:06 GMT -5

Is she trying to interrupt our henna session?

breathless {hal/axyl} Feb 14, 2024 18:56:05 GMT -5

Post by jupiter graves [d1] 🚀 pogue on Feb 14, 2024 18:56:05 GMT -5

A X Y L

He can feel the walls around him coming down. Not the ones made of steel, painted white and gold as if to make a mockery of the red they'll stain the grounds with in less than a few days time. No, he feels the barrier between him and the reality he's ran from for so long slowly dissolving into the air, venom and poison corroding it from the inside out, screaming and hissing into the void just for it to hiss back.

The days become shorter, the nights become longer, a mirroring that none of them want but all of them receive. He finds himself, evening after evening and minute after hour slowly flipping through the hologram projections of places he'll never go, sights he'll never see. The forest is the only one he recognizes: briefly and in between heartbeats, memories of escaping six and smelling the forest air and running his fingertips across the bark of the trees, men in white and loaded gun and-

It's why he finds himself wandering the trees of the trapping station, a simulation spat in his face and dangled in front of him just out of reach, as if to say you'll never reach it. And that's the killer joke, the knee slap and the gut stab of the whole thing: He won't. Axyl knows his fate before it happens just based on the bare bones of the realities he's lived in- the ones who have torn him up and spit him out and laugh from the sidelines as he makes his way through the shadows of the trees.

The reminders that he'll be forgotten. Easily, too.
Some nights, in between the heartbeats and the hours he thinks his brother might miss him.

In the morning sun he hopes that he doesn't, knows that he shouldn't. An arena full of dead kids and the world is better off, somehow. Coffins are easier to take care of than thrashing heart and brittle bones.

"Ain't gonna catch shit with that." Axyl says to the boy across the clearing, voice from the brush and the shadows, tossing the rock he'd plucked from the soil into the air and catching it in his palm. Synthetic stone kisses his skin, reminding him that everything but the blood is fake in here, everything but the anger. "Might as well give up before you start."

d4a tide evros {ems}
Librarian

4,886 POSTS
Pronouns: he/him
last seen Jun 5, 2024 11:47:04 GMT -5

probably flailing over something

breathless {hal/axyl} Feb 17, 2024 14:40:01 GMT -5

Post by d4a tide evros {ems} on Feb 17, 2024 14:40:01 GMT -5

Knots aren't easy to create, and in this moment, Hal wants people to think he's stupid and dumb because maybe they'll leave him alone, but even then, it doesn't really matter since he may die anyway. It's always something though. It's all about playing a part, pretending to become a Capitol sweetheart, yet deep down, Hal will never surrender to the way of life. Trying to learn is the only way to stay alive. Trying to succeed. Trying to become better at everything is damn near impossible. Maybe it's for the best.

Sometimes when nobody is nearby, Hal focuses on death wondering what it feels like, what happens when the heart stops beating and lungs cease to expand? Does it hurt? Does the brain shut down completely?

Do people know when they're going to die?

It's something that won't escape his mind, and the more he thinks about it, the more anxious he becomes. Dying would offer him some freedom, and he wouldn't have to help his siblings anymore, but at the same time, dying would mean they all would probably end up dying anyway.

"Ain't gonna catch shit with that."

Hal turns, trying to make sense of what's even happening, but the feeling of defeat comes crashing in all within the blink of an eye. Everyone puts him down, tells him he's not good enough, tells him he's never going to succeed at anything, and all his life, he's believed it, and it tears him apart knowing that everyone else sees that about him.

He isn't a firecracker, or someone to respond with anger or hate, and most of the time, he would simply stand up and walk away, but why? Why do that here when he has absolutely nothing to lose?

"Wasn't making it to catch shit." He looks up at the tribute, and his heart is racing, and he's trying to hide his shaky hands. "If I wanted to catch shit, I'd simply use a bucket."

Credit to Pogue <3

lest we forget [the characters]

credit to Zoe