Luyu Posts?
Oct 25, 2010 14:23:08 GMT -5
Post by cameron on Oct 25, 2010 14:23:08 GMT -5
Luyu Nimmons
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[/center]
It was a shoe that interrupted her mighty roar atop the Corncuopia – not a vicious, angry muttation or an erupting volcano spewing molten lava onto her body, but … a shoe. One would assume that, when a shoe is launched at you from the sky and breaks a bone within your leg, you would be filled with madness; but this, however, was not the case for a certain Luyu Orphelia Nimmons. In fact, this caused the maniacal Tribute to act calm – of all things – in the direst of situations.
Breathe in; breathe out. Habitual breath regulation was not a usual or casual occurrence for the girl from the third District. The flow of oxygen kept steadily pacing itself throughout her lungs and blood, and Luyu slid down onto her rear end without pressuring her broken leg. Breathe in; breathe out. Had she ever attempted to regulate her breath pattern before? She doubted it, honestly; why on earth would the crazed child ever attempt in any way to be tranquil? So, why was she now?
Unable to answer this question, the girl slid down the Great Horn and, using her arms of little strength in comparison to her mighty legs, she held herself up enough so that the leg that had been injured in the shoestorm wouldn’t be pained. Reaching the ground, she hobbled over to where the other two stood, analyzing the two and checking their injuries.
Since entering the Arena, Luyu had slowly but surely become slightly more observant in nature, whereas before volunteering she had never paid any attention to detail whatsoever. What had caused her to be this way was lost to her, though, as she still felt the same as she always had in the lifetime that the District Three girl remembered. That, however, wasn’t say all too much when the Tribute could only remember a fraction of her years, the rest being rid from her memory in the years past. There was only one moment from before her time in the loony bin that the child remembered, and she hadn’t even extracted that from her mind until the prior day during the attack on the horsies.
Hiccup.
Next thing Luyu knew, it was dark and the Anthem was playing in the night sky. According to the Capital’s display, there were only eight others left to be killed before the girl could return to her home District. But, she had yet to answer her own personal question that she dared not speak aloud: Did she truly want to go back? What was there for her after her re-arrival? Sure, her family was still there— but she hadn’t cared about her family in several years; they were the least of her worries. What worried her was the fact that the boy in the alliance still hadn’t voiced anything to her that she recalled, and the girl seemed crazy for lemons. Luyu realized then that she was stuck fighting for her life with a bunch of crazies, and there was no other way to put it. At least Mercury was out of the way, making it an alliance with one less crazy than the day before.
Wait, the Tribute’s mind interrupted her thoughts,[/color] what if they think I’m crazy, too? What if the Capital laughs at me every time I make a move on their screen? What if they find me humorous? Honestly, she hadn’t the slightest idea where these logical thoughts had come from or why they had presented themselves to her then; but one thing she did know was that it all made sense to her. Luyu Orphelia Nimmons was completely bonkers, cracked, bats in the belfry, demented, delirious, deranged. She was all of the things the children back in the District used to call her from her bedroom window. “Loony Luyu,” they used to say.
Loony Luyu indeed.
Her mind began to spin around, doing double-backflips and handstands and all kinds of motions forcing it to be in a twisted mess. She was muttering ”Loony Luyu” vocally now, over and over again. Her body jerked to the right, then to the left, and then all was silent and still.
The Anthem had ended, and just as It had a large shadow had passed over the grass before her, startling her out of her crazed daze and into a slight reality. Grabbing her broadsword, she charged forward and swung the weapon madly in the direction of the unidentified flying object; but her leg gave out where the shoe had struck it, and onto the ground she went. Her eyes slammed shut as she hit the grass, and she tried her hardest to imagine the happy place the doctor’s used to frequently force her to find.
A cobbler’s shop is where her mind took her. Shoes were everywhere, scattered throughout on the different shelves and display cases. A man, eerily similar to Luyu in appearance, stepped out from behind a case and strolled over to her. ”Why, hello there, little girl,” the man said to her as he walked up to her. The man bent down to get on head-height with Luyu, and she realized then that she had shrank since the last time she had looked at herself. Never had she been this much shorter than anyone. Still, the shrunken Tribute looked up to the lanky man and instinctively tugged on the tail of his shirt.
”Daddy, daddy! I need some new shoes!”
”Of course, sweetheart,” he said with a smile on his face, turning to walk towards the small girls’ shoe section.
And with a burst of bright light Luyu was awakened from her memory, still unaware of what it actually was, and saw the shoes all around her spontaneously ignite together. The sight, awe-inspiring in itself, forced the Tribute off her stomach and onto her feet. Twirling around despite her broken leg, she took in the miraculous, magnificent sight of the fire all around her. The memory of her father was pushed far back into the depths of her manic mind, and her oceanic eyes followed the sparks around in amazement.
Just like that, the fire was all gone and rubber ash remain was left in its place. Luyu was still revolving when the fire dissipated, and she immediately collapsed to the ground in anger. She wanted that fire so much; why did it have to go?
Pain then shot through her leg, as she had fallen onto it when the flames had died. Clutching it in her hand, she dragged her body back towards the Horn where her items all rested. Reaching the Cornucopia, she went through her satchel and pulled out the pair of grey socks, an arrow, and rope. Placing the arrow against her injury and using the grey socks to bandage her broken femur, she tied the rope around so that the socks—and her bone—would remain in place. It was a makeshift splint, of sorts, that had just seemed like the natural thing to do. After that, the girl collapsed into a deep slumber.
o
ooo
o
As soon as the sun way up, so was Luyu Nimmons. Her satchel ready and lighter than the previous day thanks to the makeshift splint she now wore on her upper right leg, Luyu swung it over her shoulder and attempted to skip away from the Cornucopia. Hopefully, the other two would hear her awkward attempts at galloping and follow her.
The girls’ right leg dragged for the most part, but she was still mostly capable of making it without falling. Eventually, she reached an area of the Arena that was covered in patches of grain—tall grains, short grains, colored grains, dull grains—and nothing else. All she could see for a fair distance was grain. And her first thought upon noticing the grain, of course, was fire.
Hiccup.
She no longer cackled when she came into contact with fire, but her heart did skip a beat and her brain melted for a few moments. Striking the flint and igniting the cat’o’nine tails she had taken from Ocean Jones, the Tribute pranced around the field as much as a girl with a broken leg could prance around, whipping patches of grain and setting them instantly on fire. Her mind was jelly while she did so, and she probably could have gone on all day if there had not have been that sleeping Tribute laying before her. Of course, Luyu was too caught up in the fire to notice the being, and when she passed over him her foot—the good one, luckily—caught onto his body and knocked her over him.
Shock bolted through her; Luyu was genuinely scared of the Tribute. Where had he come from? Why was he laying in the grain? That couldn’t be too safe. Maybe he was dead, and the canon just hadn’t gone off yet? It was possible. Or was it? Luyu didn’t know. She hadn’t been much for detail until two days ago or so. On that note, though, the Tribute’s face seemed to not make the prettiest shape in the world. Most Tributes,
Maybe if she just…burned his face right off, maybe then he’d be better looking? Maybe. So, of course, Luyu attempted to do so. She leaned forward and brought the flaming cat’o’nine tails up to the boy’s dirty face, but right before contact was made his eyes flashed open and he rolled away from the weapon. She had clearly frightened him—what person
Getting closer and closer still, the manic girl scanned the Tribute with her oceanic orbs over and over, offering her odd gaze as some sort of strange salutations. Her face reached his, and she stayed with her face in front of his for a good five seconds, observing and making mental notes on the strangeness of the boy’s general features. Bland. He was bland.
It was engaging.
Still, she leaned forward once more and pressed her nose on his, inhaling greatly. Much to her surprise, even his smell was lackluster, just having a slight stench—but a very commonplace, unimportant one at that. This Tribute was abnormal for the mere fact that he was normal. Luyu had no other way to put it, really. Keeping her face centimeters away from his, she stared him in the dull eyes of the boy, waiting.
[/blockquote][/blockquote]
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/center][/color]
And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Luyu Nimmons
[/color][/font][/center]
It was a shoe that interrupted her mighty roar atop the Corncuopia – not a vicious, angry muttation or an erupting volcano spewing molten lava onto her body, but … a shoe. One would assume that, when a shoe is launched at you from the sky and breaks a bone within your leg, you would be filled with madness; but this, however, was not the case for a certain Luyu Orphelia Nimmons. In fact, this caused the maniacal Tribute to act calm – of all things – in the direst of situations.
Breathe in; breathe out. Habitual breath regulation was not a usual or casual occurrence for the girl from the third District. The flow of oxygen kept steadily pacing itself throughout her lungs and blood, and Luyu slid down onto her rear end without pressuring her broken leg. Breathe in; breathe out. Had she ever attempted to regulate her breath pattern before? She doubted it, honestly; why on earth would the crazed child ever attempt in any way to be tranquil? So, why was she now?
Unable to answer this question, the girl slid down the Great Horn and, using her arms of little strength in comparison to her mighty legs, she held herself up enough so that the leg that had been injured in the shoestorm wouldn’t be pained. Reaching the ground, she hobbled over to where the other two stood, analyzing the two and checking their injuries.
Since entering the Arena, Luyu had slowly but surely become slightly more observant in nature, whereas before volunteering she had never paid any attention to detail whatsoever. What had caused her to be this way was lost to her, though, as she still felt the same as she always had in the lifetime that the District Three girl remembered. That, however, wasn’t say all too much when the Tribute could only remember a fraction of her years, the rest being rid from her memory in the years past. There was only one moment from before her time in the loony bin that the child remembered, and she hadn’t even extracted that from her mind until the prior day during the attack on the horsies.
Hiccup.
Next thing Luyu knew, it was dark and the Anthem was playing in the night sky. According to the Capital’s display, there were only eight others left to be killed before the girl could return to her home District. But, she had yet to answer her own personal question that she dared not speak aloud: Did she truly want to go back? What was there for her after her re-arrival? Sure, her family was still there— but she hadn’t cared about her family in several years; they were the least of her worries. What worried her was the fact that the boy in the alliance still hadn’t voiced anything to her that she recalled, and the girl seemed crazy for lemons. Luyu realized then that she was stuck fighting for her life with a bunch of crazies, and there was no other way to put it. At least Mercury was out of the way, making it an alliance with one less crazy than the day before.
Wait, the Tribute’s mind interrupted her thoughts,[/color] what if they think I’m crazy, too? What if the Capital laughs at me every time I make a move on their screen? What if they find me humorous? Honestly, she hadn’t the slightest idea where these logical thoughts had come from or why they had presented themselves to her then; but one thing she did know was that it all made sense to her. Luyu Orphelia Nimmons was completely bonkers, cracked, bats in the belfry, demented, delirious, deranged. She was all of the things the children back in the District used to call her from her bedroom window. “Loony Luyu,” they used to say.
Loony Luyu indeed.
Her mind began to spin around, doing double-backflips and handstands and all kinds of motions forcing it to be in a twisted mess. She was muttering ”Loony Luyu” vocally now, over and over again. Her body jerked to the right, then to the left, and then all was silent and still.
The Anthem had ended, and just as It had a large shadow had passed over the grass before her, startling her out of her crazed daze and into a slight reality. Grabbing her broadsword, she charged forward and swung the weapon madly in the direction of the unidentified flying object; but her leg gave out where the shoe had struck it, and onto the ground she went. Her eyes slammed shut as she hit the grass, and she tried her hardest to imagine the happy place the doctor’s used to frequently force her to find.
A cobbler’s shop is where her mind took her. Shoes were everywhere, scattered throughout on the different shelves and display cases. A man, eerily similar to Luyu in appearance, stepped out from behind a case and strolled over to her. ”Why, hello there, little girl,” the man said to her as he walked up to her. The man bent down to get on head-height with Luyu, and she realized then that she had shrank since the last time she had looked at herself. Never had she been this much shorter than anyone. Still, the shrunken Tribute looked up to the lanky man and instinctively tugged on the tail of his shirt.
”Daddy, daddy! I need some new shoes!”
”Of course, sweetheart,” he said with a smile on his face, turning to walk towards the small girls’ shoe section.
And with a burst of bright light Luyu was awakened from her memory, still unaware of what it actually was, and saw the shoes all around her spontaneously ignite together. The sight, awe-inspiring in itself, forced the Tribute off her stomach and onto her feet. Twirling around despite her broken leg, she took in the miraculous, magnificent sight of the fire all around her. The memory of her father was pushed far back into the depths of her manic mind, and her oceanic eyes followed the sparks around in amazement.
Just like that, the fire was all gone and rubber ash remain was left in its place. Luyu was still revolving when the fire dissipated, and she immediately collapsed to the ground in anger. She wanted that fire so much; why did it have to go?
Pain then shot through her leg, as she had fallen onto it when the flames had died. Clutching it in her hand, she dragged her body back towards the Horn where her items all rested. Reaching the Cornucopia, she went through her satchel and pulled out the pair of grey socks, an arrow, and rope. Placing the arrow against her injury and using the grey socks to bandage her broken femur, she tied the rope around so that the socks—and her bone—would remain in place. It was a makeshift splint, of sorts, that had just seemed like the natural thing to do. After that, the girl collapsed into a deep slumber.
o
ooo
o
As soon as the sun way up, so was Luyu Nimmons. Her satchel ready and lighter than the previous day thanks to the makeshift splint she now wore on her upper right leg, Luyu swung it over her shoulder and attempted to skip away from the Cornucopia. Hopefully, the other two would hear her awkward attempts at galloping and follow her.
The girls’ right leg dragged for the most part, but she was still mostly capable of making it without falling. Eventually, she reached an area of the Arena that was covered in patches of grain—tall grains, short grains, colored grains, dull grains—and nothing else. All she could see for a fair distance was grain. And her first thought upon noticing the grain, of course, was fire.
Hiccup.
She no longer cackled when she came into contact with fire, but her heart did skip a beat and her brain melted for a few moments. Striking the flint and igniting the cat’o’nine tails she had taken from Ocean Jones, the Tribute pranced around the field as much as a girl with a broken leg could prance around, whipping patches of grain and setting them instantly on fire. Her mind was jelly while she did so, and she probably could have gone on all day if there had not have been that sleeping Tribute laying before her. Of course, Luyu was too caught up in the fire to notice the being, and when she passed over him her foot—the good one, luckily—caught onto his body and knocked her over him.
Shock bolted through her; Luyu was genuinely scared of the Tribute. Where had he come from? Why was he laying in the grain? That couldn’t be too safe. Maybe he was dead, and the canon just hadn’t gone off yet? It was possible. Or was it? Luyu didn’t know. She hadn’t been much for detail until two days ago or so. On that note, though, the Tribute’s face seemed to not make the prettiest shape in the world. Most Tributes,
Maybe if she just…burned his face right off, maybe then he’d be better looking? Maybe. So, of course, Luyu attempted to do so. She leaned forward and brought the flaming cat’o’nine tails up to the boy’s dirty face, but right before contact was made his eyes flashed open and he rolled away from the weapon. She had clearly frightened him—what person
Getting closer and closer still, the manic girl scanned the Tribute with her oceanic orbs over and over, offering her odd gaze as some sort of strange salutations. Her face reached his, and she stayed with her face in front of his for a good five seconds, observing and making mental notes on the strangeness of the boy’s general features. Bland. He was bland.
It was engaging.
Still, she leaned forward once more and pressed her nose on his, inhaling greatly. Much to her surprise, even his smell was lackluster, just having a slight stench—but a very commonplace, unimportant one at that. This Tribute was abnormal for the mere fact that he was normal. Luyu had no other way to put it, really. Keeping her face centimeters away from his, she stared him in the dull eyes of the boy, waiting.
[/blockquote]
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/center][/color]
And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Luyu Nimmons
[/color][/font][/center]
It was a shoe that interrupted her mighty roar atop the Corncuopia – not a vicious, angry muttation or an erupting volcano spewing molten lava onto her body, but … a shoe. One would assume that, when a shoe is launched at you from the sky and breaks a bone within your leg, you would be filled with madness; but this, however, was not the case for a certain Luyu Orphelia Nimmons. In fact, this caused the maniacal Tribute to act calm – of all things – in the direst of situations.
Breathe in; breathe out. Habitual breath regulation was not a usual or casual occurrence for the girl from the third District. The flow of oxygen kept steadily pacing itself throughout her lungs and blood, and Luyu slid down onto her rear end without pressuring her broken leg. Breathe in; breathe out. Had she ever attempted to regulate her breath pattern before? She doubted it, honestly; why on earth would the crazed child ever attempt in any way to be tranquil? So, why was she now?
Unable to answer this question, the girl slid down the Great Horn and, using her arms of little strength in comparison to her mighty legs, she held herself up enough so that the leg that had been injured in the shoestorm wouldn’t be pained. Reaching the ground, she hobbled over to where the other two stood, analyzing the two and checking their injuries.
Since entering the Arena, Luyu had slowly but surely become slightly more observant in nature, whereas before volunteering she had never paid any attention to detail whatsoever. What had caused her to be this way was lost to her, though, as she still felt the same as she always had in the lifetime that the District Three girl remembered. That, however, wasn’t say all too much when the Tribute could only remember a fraction of her years, the rest being rid from her memory in the years past. There was only one moment from before her time in the loony bin that the child remembered, and she hadn’t even extracted that from her mind until the prior day during the attack on the horsies.
Hiccup.
Next thing Luyu knew, it was dark and the Anthem was playing in the night sky. According to the Capital’s display, there were only eight others left to be killed before the girl could return to her home District. But, she had yet to answer her own personal question that she dared not speak aloud: Did she truly want to go back? What was there for her after her re-arrival? Sure, her family was still there— but she hadn’t cared about her family in several years; they were the least of her worries. What worried her was the fact that the boy in the alliance still hadn’t voiced anything to her that she recalled, and the girl seemed crazy for lemons. Luyu realized then that she was stuck fighting for her life with a bunch of crazies, and there was no other way to put it. At least Mercury was out of the way, making it an alliance with one less crazy than the day before.
Wait, the Tribute’s mind interrupted her thoughts,[/color] what if they think I’m crazy, too? What if the Capital laughs at me every time I make a move on their screen? What if they find me humorous? Honestly, she hadn’t the slightest idea where these logical thoughts had come from or why they had presented themselves to her then; but one thing she did know was that it all made sense to her. Luyu Orphelia Nimmons was completely bonkers, cracked, bats in the belfry, demented, delirious, deranged. She was all of the things the children back in the District used to call her from her bedroom window. “Loony Luyu,” they used to say.
Loony Luyu indeed.
Her mind began to spin around, doing double-backflips and handstands and all kinds of motions forcing it to be in a twisted mess. She was muttering ”Loony Luyu” vocally now, over and over again. Her body jerked to the right, then to the left, and then all was silent and still.
The Anthem had ended, and just as It had a large shadow had passed over the grass before her, startling her out of her crazed daze and into a slight reality. Grabbing her broadsword, she charged forward and swung the weapon madly in the direction of the unidentified flying object; but her leg gave out where the shoe had struck it, and onto the ground she went. Her eyes slammed shut as she hit the grass, and she tried her hardest to imagine the happy place the doctor’s used to frequently force her to find.
A cobbler’s shop is where her mind took her. Shoes were everywhere, scattered throughout on the different shelves and display cases. A man, eerily similar to Luyu in appearance, stepped out from behind a case and strolled over to her. ”Why, hello there, little girl,” the man said to her as he walked up to her. The man bent down to get on head-height with Luyu, and she realized then that she had shrank since the last time she had looked at herself. Never had she been this much shorter than anyone. Still, the shrunken Tribute looked up to the lanky man and instinctively tugged on the tail of his shirt.
”Daddy, daddy! I need some new shoes!”
”Of course, sweetheart,” he said with a smile on his face, turning to walk towards the small girls’ shoe section.
And with a burst of bright light Luyu was awakened from her memory, still unaware of what it actually was, and saw the shoes all around her spontaneously ignite together. The sight, awe-inspiring in itself, forced the Tribute off her stomach and onto her feet. Twirling around despite her broken leg, she took in the miraculous, magnificent sight of the fire all around her. The memory of her father was pushed far back into the depths of her manic mind, and her oceanic eyes followed the sparks around in amazement.
Just like that, the fire was all gone and rubber ash remain was left in its place. Luyu was still revolving when the fire dissipated, and she immediately collapsed to the ground in anger. She wanted that fire so much; why did it have to go?
Pain then shot through her leg, as she had fallen onto it when the flames had died. Clutching it in her hand, she dragged her body back towards the Horn where her items all rested. Reaching the Cornucopia, she went through her satchel and pulled out the pair of grey socks, an arrow, and rope. Placing the arrow against her injury and using the grey socks to bandage her broken femur, she tied the rope around so that the socks—and her bone—would remain in place. It was a makeshift splint, of sorts, that had just seemed like the natural thing to do. After that, the girl collapsed into a deep slumber.
o
ooo
o
As soon as the sun way up, so was Luyu Nimmons. Her satchel ready and lighter than the previous day thanks to the makeshift splint she now wore on her upper right leg, Luyu swung it over her shoulder and attempted to skip away from the Cornucopia. Hopefully, the other two would hear her awkward attempts at galloping and follow her.
The girls’ right leg dragged for the most part, but she was still mostly capable of making it without falling. Eventually, she reached an area of the Arena that was covered in patches of grain—tall grains, short grains, colored grains, dull grains—and nothing else. All she could see for a fair distance was grain. And her first thought upon noticing the grain, of course, was fire.
Hiccup.
She no longer cackled when she came into contact with fire, but her heart did skip a beat and her brain melted for a few moments. Striking the flint and igniting the cat’o’nine tails she had taken from Ocean Jones, the Tribute pranced around the field as much as a girl with a broken leg could prance around, whipping patches of grain and setting them instantly on fire. Her mind was jelly while she did so, and she probably could have gone on all day if there had not have been that sleeping Tribute laying before her. Of course, Luyu was too caught up in the fire to notice the being, and when she passed over him her foot—the good one, luckily—caught onto his body and knocked her over him.
Shock bolted through her; Luyu was genuinely scared of the Tribute. Where had he come from? Why was he laying in the grain? That couldn’t be too safe. Maybe he was dead, and the canon just hadn’t gone off yet? It was possible. Or was it? Luyu didn’t know. She hadn’t been much for detail until two days ago or so. On that note, though, the Tribute’s face seemed to not make the prettiest shape in the world. Most Tributes,
Maybe if she just…burned his face right off, maybe then he’d be better looking? Maybe. So, of course, Luyu attempted to do so. She leaned forward and brought the flaming cat’o’nine tails up to the boy’s dirty face, but right before contact was made his eyes flashed open and he rolled away from the weapon. She had clearly frightened him—what person
Getting closer and closer still, the manic girl scanned the Tribute with her oceanic orbs over and over, offering her odd gaze as some sort of strange salutations. Her face reached his, and she stayed with her face in front of his for a good five seconds, observing and making mental notes on the strangeness of the boy’s general features. Bland. He was bland.
It was engaging.
Still, she leaned forward once more and pressed her nose on his, inhaling greatly. Much to her surprise, even his smell was lackluster, just having a slight stench—but a very commonplace, unimportant one at that. This Tribute was abnormal for the mere fact that he was normal. Luyu had no other way to put it, really. Keeping her face centimeters away from his, she stared him in the dull eyes of the boy, waiting.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/center][/color]
And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Luyu Nimmons
[/color][/font][/center]
It was a shoe that interrupted her mighty roar atop the Corncuopia – not a vicious, angry muttation or an erupting volcano spewing molten lava onto her body, but … a shoe. One would assume that, when a shoe is launched at you from the sky and breaks a bone within your leg, you would be filled with madness; but this, however, was not the case for a certain Luyu Orphelia Nimmons. In fact, this caused the maniacal Tribute to act calm – of all things – in the direst of situations.
Breathe in; breathe out. Habitual breath regulation was not a usual or casual occurrence for the girl from the third District. The flow of oxygen kept steadily pacing itself throughout her lungs and blood, and Luyu slid down onto her rear end without pressuring her broken leg. Breathe in; breathe out. Had she ever attempted to regulate her breath pattern before? She doubted it, honestly; why on earth would the crazed child ever attempt in any way to be tranquil? So, why was she now?
Unable to answer this question, the girl slid down the Great Horn and, using her arms of little strength in comparison to her mighty legs, she held herself up enough so that the leg that had been injured in the shoestorm wouldn’t be pained. Reaching the ground, she hobbled over to where the other two stood, analyzing the two and checking their injuries.
Since entering the Arena, Luyu had slowly but surely become slightly more observant in nature, whereas before volunteering she had never paid any attention to detail whatsoever. What had caused her to be this way was lost to her, though, as she still felt the same as she always had in the lifetime that the District Three girl remembered. That, however, wasn’t say all too much when the Tribute could only remember a fraction of her years, the rest being rid from her memory in the years past. There was only one moment from before her time in the loony bin that the child remembered, and she hadn’t even extracted that from her mind until the prior day during the attack on the horsies.
Hiccup.
Next thing Luyu knew, it was dark and the Anthem was playing in the night sky. According to the Capital’s display, there were only eight others left to be killed before the girl could return to her home District. But, she had yet to answer her own personal question that she dared not speak aloud: Did she truly want to go back? What was there for her after her re-arrival? Sure, her family was still there— but she hadn’t cared about her family in several years; they were the least of her worries. What worried her was the fact that the boy in the alliance still hadn’t voiced anything to her that she recalled, and the girl seemed crazy for lemons. Luyu realized then that she was stuck fighting for her life with a bunch of crazies, and there was no other way to put it. At least Mercury was out of the way, making it an alliance with one less crazy than the day before.
Wait, the Tribute’s mind interrupted her thoughts,[/color] what if they think I’m crazy, too? What if the Capital laughs at me every time I make a move on their screen? What if they find me humorous? Honestly, she hadn’t the slightest idea where these logical thoughts had come from or why they had presented themselves to her then; but one thing she did know was that it all made sense to her. Luyu Orphelia Nimmons was completely bonkers, cracked, bats in the belfry, demented, delirious, deranged. She was all of the things the children back in the District used to call her from her bedroom window. “Loony Luyu,” they used to say.
Loony Luyu indeed.
Her mind began to spin around, doing double-backflips and handstands and all kinds of motions forcing it to be in a twisted mess. She was muttering ”Loony Luyu” vocally now, over and over again. Her body jerked to the right, then to the left, and then all was silent and still.
The Anthem had ended, and just as It had a large shadow had passed over the grass before her, startling her out of her crazed daze and into a slight reality. Grabbing her broadsword, she charged forward and swung the weapon madly in the direction of the unidentified flying object; but her leg gave out where the shoe had struck it, and onto the ground she went. Her eyes slammed shut as she hit the grass, and she tried her hardest to imagine the happy place the doctor’s used to frequently force her to find.
A cobbler’s shop is where her mind took her. Shoes were everywhere, scattered throughout on the different shelves and display cases. A man, eerily similar to Luyu in appearance, stepped out from behind a case and strolled over to her. ”Why, hello there, little girl,” the man said to her as he walked up to her. The man bent down to get on head-height with Luyu, and she realized then that she had shrank since the last time she had looked at herself. Never had she been this much shorter than anyone. Still, the shrunken Tribute looked up to the lanky man and instinctively tugged on the tail of his shirt.
”Daddy, daddy! I need some new shoes!”
”Of course, sweetheart,” he said with a smile on his face, turning to walk towards the small girls’ shoe section.
And with a burst of bright light Luyu was awakened from her memory, still unaware of what it actually was, and saw the shoes all around her spontaneously ignite together. The sight, awe-inspiring in itself, forced the Tribute off her stomach and onto her feet. Twirling around despite her broken leg, she took in the miraculous, magnificent sight of the fire all around her. The memory of her father was pushed far back into the depths of her manic mind, and her oceanic eyes followed the sparks around in amazement.
Just like that, the fire was all gone and rubber ash remain was left in its place. Luyu was still revolving when the fire dissipated, and she immediately collapsed to the ground in anger. She wanted that fire so much; why did it have to go?
Pain then shot through her leg, as she had fallen onto it when the flames had died. Clutching it in her hand, she dragged her body back towards the Horn where her items all rested. Reaching the Cornucopia, she went through her satchel and pulled out the pair of grey socks, an arrow, and rope. Placing the arrow against her injury and using the grey socks to bandage her broken femur, she tied the rope around so that the socks—and her bone—would remain in place. It was a makeshift splint, of sorts, that had just seemed like the natural thing to do. After that, the girl collapsed into a deep slumber.
o
ooo
o
ooo
o
As soon as the sun way up, so was Luyu Nimmons. Her satchel ready and lighter than the previous day thanks to the makeshift splint she now wore on her upper right leg, Luyu swung it over her shoulder and attempted to skip away from the Cornucopia. Hopefully, the other two would hear her awkward attempts at galloping and follow her.
The girls’ right leg dragged for the most part, but she was still mostly capable of making it without falling. Eventually, she reached an area of the Arena that was covered in patches of grain—tall grains, short grains, colored grains, dull grains—and nothing else. All she could see for a fair distance was grain. And her first thought upon noticing the grain, of course, was fire.
Hiccup.
She no longer cackled when she came into contact with fire, but her heart did skip a beat and her brain melted for a few moments. Striking the flint and igniting the cat’o’nine tails she had taken from Ocean Jones, the Tribute pranced around the field as much as a girl with a broken leg could prance around, whipping patches of grain and setting them instantly on fire. Her mind was jelly while she did so, and she probably could have gone on all day if there had not have been that sleeping Tribute laying before her. Of course, Luyu was too caught up in the fire to notice the being, and when she passed over him her foot—the good one, luckily—caught onto his body and knocked her over him.
Shock bolted through her; Luyu was genuinely scared of the Tribute. Where had he come from? Why was he laying in the grain? That couldn’t be too safe. Maybe he was dead, and the canon just hadn’t gone off yet? It was possible. Or was it? Luyu didn’t know. She hadn’t been much for detail until two days ago or so. On that note, though, the Tribute’s face seemed to not make the prettiest shape in the world. Most Tributes,
Maybe if she just…burned his face right off, maybe then he’d be better looking? Maybe. So, of course, Luyu attempted to do so. She leaned forward and brought the flaming cat’o’nine tails up to the boy’s dirty face, but right before contact was made his eyes flashed open and he rolled away from the weapon. She had clearly frightened him—what person
Getting closer and closer still, the manic girl scanned the Tribute with her oceanic orbs over and over, offering her odd gaze as some sort of strange salutations. Her face reached his, and she stayed with her face in front of his for a good five seconds, observing and making mental notes on the strangeness of the boy’s general features. Bland. He was bland.
It was engaging.
Still, she leaned forward once more and pressed her nose on his, inhaling greatly. Much to her surprise, even his smell was lackluster, just having a slight stench—but a very commonplace, unimportant one at that. This Tribute was abnormal for the mere fact that he was normal. Luyu had no other way to put it, really. Keeping her face centimeters away from his, she stared him in the dull eyes of the boy, waiting.
[/blockquote][/justify]
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/color]
And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Luyu Nimmons
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It was a shoe that interrupted her mighty roar atop the Corncuopia – not a vicious, angry muttation or an erupting volcano spewing molten lava onto her body, but … a shoe. One would assume that, when a shoe is launched at you from the sky and breaks a bone within your leg, you would be filled with madness; but this, however, was not the case for a certain Luyu Orphelia Nimmons. In fact, this caused the maniacal Tribute to act calm – of all things – in the direst of situations.
Breathe in; breathe out. Habitual breath regulation was not a usual or casual occurrence for the girl from the third District. The flow of oxygen kept steadily pacing itself throughout her lungs and blood, and Luyu slid down onto her rear end without pressuring her broken leg. Breathe in; breathe out. Had she ever attempted to regulate her breath pattern before? She doubted it, honestly; why on earth would the crazed child ever attempt in any way to be tranquil? So, why was she now?
Unable to answer this question, the girl slid down the Great Horn and, using her arms of little strength in comparison to her mighty legs, she held herself up enough so that the leg that had been injured in the shoestorm wouldn’t be pained. Reaching the ground, she hobbled over to where the other two stood, analyzing the two and checking their injuries.
Since entering the Arena, Luyu had slowly but surely become slightly more observant in nature, whereas before volunteering she had never paid any attention to detail whatsoever. What had caused her to be this way was lost to her, though, as she still felt the same as she always had in the lifetime that the District Three girl remembered. That, however, wasn’t say all too much when the Tribute could only remember a fraction of her years, the rest being rid from her memory in the years past. There was only one moment from before her time in the loony bin that the child remembered, and she hadn’t even extracted that from her mind until the prior day during the attack on the horsies.
Hiccup.
Next thing Luyu knew, it was dark and the Anthem was playing in the night sky. According to the Capital’s display, there were only eight others left to be killed before the girl could return to her home District. But, she had yet to answer her own personal question that she dared not speak aloud: Did she truly want to go back? What was there for her after her re-arrival? Sure, her family was still there— but she hadn’t cared about her family in several years; they were the least of her worries. What worried her was the fact that the boy in the alliance still hadn’t voiced anything to her that she recalled, and the girl seemed crazy for lemons. Luyu realized then that she was stuck fighting for her life with a bunch of crazies, and there was no other way to put it. At least Mercury was out of the way, making it an alliance with one less crazy than the day before.
Wait, the Tribute’s mind interrupted her thoughts,[/color] what if they think I’m crazy, too? What if the Capital laughs at me every time I make a move on their screen? What if they find me humorous? Honestly, she hadn’t the slightest idea where these logical thoughts had come from or why they had presented themselves to her then; but one thing she did know was that it all made sense to her. Luyu Orphelia Nimmons was completely bonkers, cracked, bats in the belfry, demented, delirious, deranged. She was all of the things the children back in the District used to call her from her bedroom window. “Loony Luyu,” they used to say.
Loony Luyu indeed.
Her mind began to spin around, doing double-backflips and handstands and all kinds of motions forcing it to be in a twisted mess. She was muttering ”Loony Luyu” vocally now, over and over again. Her body jerked to the right, then to the left, and then all was silent and still.
The Anthem had ended, and just as It had a large shadow had passed over the grass before her, startling her out of her crazed daze and into a slight reality. Grabbing her broadsword, she charged forward and swung the weapon madly in the direction of the unidentified flying object; but her leg gave out where the shoe had struck it, and onto the ground she went. Her eyes slammed shut as she hit the grass, and she tried her hardest to imagine the happy place the doctor’s used to frequently force her to find.
A cobbler’s shop is where her mind took her. Shoes were everywhere, scattered throughout on the different shelves and display cases. A man, eerily similar to Luyu in appearance, stepped out from behind a case and strolled over to her. ”Why, hello there, little girl,” the man said to her as he walked up to her. The man bent down to get on head-height with Luyu, and she realized then that she had shrank since the last time she had looked at herself. Never had she been this much shorter than anyone. Still, the shrunken Tribute looked up to the lanky man and instinctively tugged on the tail of his shirt.
”Daddy, daddy! I need some new shoes!”
”Of course, sweetheart,” he said with a smile on his face, turning to walk towards the small girls’ shoe section.
And with a burst of bright light Luyu was awakened from her memory, still unaware of what it actually was, and saw the shoes all around her spontaneously ignite together. The sight, awe-inspiring in itself, forced the Tribute off her stomach and onto her feet. Twirling around despite her broken leg, she took in the miraculous, magnificent sight of the fire all around her. The memory of her father was pushed far back into the depths of her manic mind, and her oceanic eyes followed the sparks around in amazement.
Just like that, the fire was all gone and rubber ash remain was left in its place. Luyu was still revolving when the fire dissipated, and she immediately collapsed to the ground in anger. She wanted that fire so much; why did it have to go?
Pain then shot through her leg, as she had fallen onto it when the flames had died. Clutching it in her hand, she dragged her body back towards the Horn where her items all rested. Reaching the Cornucopia, she went through her satchel and pulled out the pair of grey socks, an arrow, and rope. Placing the arrow against her injury and using the grey socks to bandage her broken femur, she tied the rope around so that the socks—and her bone—would remain in place. It was a makeshift splint, of sorts, that had just seemed like the natural thing to do. After that, the girl collapsed into a deep slumber.
o
ooo
o
ooo
o
As soon as the sun way up, so was Luyu Nimmons. Her satchel ready and lighter than the previous day thanks to the makeshift splint she now wore on her upper right leg, Luyu swung it over her shoulder and attempted to skip away from the Cornucopia. Hopefully, the other two would hear her awkward attempts at galloping and follow her.
The girls’ right leg dragged for the most part, but she was still mostly capable of making it without falling. Eventually, she reached an area of the Arena that was covered in patches of grain—tall grains, short grains, colored grains, dull grains—and nothing else. All she could see for a fair distance was grain. And her first thought upon noticing the grain, of course, was fire.
Hiccup.
She no longer cackled when she came into contact with fire, but her heart did skip a beat and her brain melted for a few moments. Striking the flint and igniting the cat’o’nine tails she had taken from Ocean Jones, the Tribute pranced around the field as much as a girl with a broken leg could prance around, whipping patches of grain and setting them instantly on fire. Her mind was jelly while she did so, and she probably could have gone on all day if there had not have been that sleeping Tribute laying before her. Of course, Luyu was too caught up in the fire to notice the being, and when she passed over him her foot—the good one, luckily—caught onto his body and knocked her over him.
Shock bolted through her; Luyu was genuinely scared of the Tribute. Where had he come from? Why was he laying in the grain? That couldn’t be too safe. Maybe he was dead, and the canon just hadn’t gone off yet? It was possible. Or was it? Luyu didn’t know. She hadn’t been much for detail until two days ago or so. On that note, though, the Tribute’s face seemed to not make the prettiest shape in the world. Most Tributes,
Maybe if she just…burned his face right off, maybe then he’d be better looking? Maybe. So, of course, Luyu attempted to do so. She leaned forward and brought the flaming cat’o’nine tails up to the boy’s dirty face, but right before contact was made his eyes flashed open and he rolled away from the weapon. She had clearly frightened him—what person
Getting closer and closer still, the manic girl scanned the Tribute with her oceanic orbs over and over, offering her odd gaze as some sort of strange salutations. Her face reached his, and she stayed with her face in front of his for a good five seconds, observing and making mental notes on the strangeness of the boy’s general features. Bland. He was bland.
It was engaging.
Still, she leaned forward once more and pressed her nose on his, inhaling greatly. Much to her surprise, even his smell was lackluster, just having a slight stench—but a very commonplace, unimportant one at that. This Tribute was abnormal for the mere fact that he was normal. Luyu had no other way to put it, really. Keeping her face centimeters away from his, she stared him in the dull eyes of the boy, waiting.
[/blockquote][/blockquote]
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/color]
And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
