.\'we.did.this.to.ourselves'/. [skylar!]

"if you love me, then let me kill you"

Shael Drege

He wore a scarf. A white scarf that was already riddled with small dirt stains. He'd found it on the ground, lying next to a tree, getting hooked onto a root as he tried to yank it up. It was fine, really, even with the dirt stains, because since he'd traveled to District 6, he'd had virtually nothing. Other than his tote bag filled with squirrel and rabbit heads and the clothes that he wore on his back. No. Not that just that. He also had a small knife. But that was it. A knife, some heads of small game, and a few pieces of fabric.

Had the scarf not have had death reaped upon it, he might possibly not be as mad as he was, but the single squirrel that had decided to put up a fight had caused his whole day to go downhill. Really, it was to be expected. It happened daily, usually. He'd grab it by its tail and stab it before it could do any damage, but there were the few that latched on to him that caused some battering and tattering.

He was angered beyond words. Sure, any other time, back in District 10, he might even laugh at the situation, but his immigration to District 6 set his mind to a different path. No, he'd still be the lunatic that was obsessed with the death of animals and the preserving of heads with salt, but he wouldn't be the grimy bastard that he used to be. He had high intention for himself, even going out of the way to make sure that he had at least had something clean on him. Whether it be a shirt or something as simple as a sock, it made him feel words more confident and happy.

Not that it's saying much, though, because happiness and Shael just don't go together.

To say the least, though, Shael was, in fact, happy -- to his standards, that is. Instead of calling a stranger a 'bitch', he'd call them an 'idiot.' Instead of punching and enemy, he'd push them. Or maybe, if it was a good day, he'd only throw curse words at them. For his friend, though, he'd compliment him. On his shoes, on his shirt, on his hair, on his glasses.

His friend's name was Apollo. Apollo Fammels. The only person in District 6, it seemed, that seemed to be normal. You might think that Shael Drege, being the psychotic that he was, would want a friend of the same manner, but he wished for the opposite. He wished for a normal friend, one that wouldn't try to compete with him to see who could gather the most blood.

With blonde hair that never ceased to be put in a ponytail, Apollo wouldn't be the type of person to be seen with someone like Shael. That is, if you compare the Shael that used to be. Where he had a reputation to lose control and do things that were absolutely unnecessary, and be teased because of his incestuous parents. But, now in District 6, no one knew anything about him. In fact, there were others that seemed to be stranger than him.

He loved it.

He'd learned of them one day while eavesdropping on an alley. One's name was Camicus, and then Shiep, and Bear, and others that he'd decided not to listen to. He'd heard enough when Bear mentioned cannibalism or something of the sort. Had he maybe entered in on their conversation, his friend count might've increased. Well, not friends, more like slight-acquaintances, because Shael wished for normal people to be seen as friends. He didn't want ridiculous competition.

There were others he still didn't know about. Like Malachai Rogers and Lane Ralyks. Had he known of them, who knows what might be in the present. Of course, the only chance he could;ve had with Malachai was to've went and entered the scene in the alleyway, but for Lane, he'd not even arrived in District 6.

Or maybe he had.

Shael watched intently out of a second story window that belonged to nothing other than Apollo Fammel's house. Since Shael had no home as of yet, and he was new to the District [although it was still a secret to Apollo and everyone else, or so Shael tried to make it seem that way], he was oftentimes found situated in Apollo's home. His mother had disappeared recently, and his father worked nearly all of the day, so most of them time, it was only Apollo and Shael. Apollo had went to use the bathroom, and Shael couldn't help but to be thankful for this, because if Apollo had seen the guy crossing over the District boundary, he would've ran and told the nearest Peacekeeper.

What the Hell? he thought to himself.

Since Shael seen himself as a cat rather than any other animal, and curiosity killed the cat, he began to leave the house without a goodbye to Apollo or any notification.

Really, he wasn't suitable to walk out in public. His hair stuck up in the back, his zipper to his jeans was unzipped, and he only had one sock on. As for a shirt, he didn't have one. Only the scarf that had blood on it. Apollo understood Shael's addiction, so it was no secret to him. The ground was cold, the grass tickling his feet but having no obvious effect on him.

He could already feel the boy's eyes on him, looking him up and down and all around. What a fool he must've looked. A scarf, a bloody one, no less, and unzipped pants with one sock. Excluding the scratches and cuts the squirrel had given him the previous day when the scarf had been both found and bloodied.

Shael paid no care whatsoever.

"Who're you!" he shouted from a distance. Not too far away though, just so it was audible to the man who'd crossed the District fence.

He'd came in the same way Shael had, through a hole that still had been ceased to be prepared. Miraculously, both of them had made it through without being electrocuted.

Once Shael's eyes were able to make out the man's face, he already began to assume it belonged to none other than Lane Ralyks.

------------

words x 1,048
tags x none
notes x sorry it took so long! Finally ready to reply to, I think. sorry if it got confusing.