clear for departure. {cinnamon}
Oct 3, 2009 1:37:02 GMT -5
Post by phunke on Oct 3, 2009 1:37:02 GMT -5
ooc;;
So. I have a general sense of your character and a fairly good sense of my character. Mine is cynical, angry, and desperate for escape. Yours is rebellious but quiet. {Correct me if I'm wrong.}
So I was thinking, if Britt has any interest in getting out of the Capitol, this would be great for both of them. To escape.
Plus, I wanted a way to get Nala into the Uprising.
Any other plot ideas? I'm totally open to anything.
on giving upslowly
I've heard that outside the Capitol, there are stars.
I've never seen a star, but apparently they are beautiful white pinpricks of light dotted across the night sky. I have heard this. But I have never seen one.
The Capitol never turns off, never takes a break. It's just a giant ugly city with a bazillion giant ugly fake lights flashing and leaving marks on your retinas. I bet stars aren't like that. I bet they're just the right amount of light to make you sort of happy but not to scar your retinas with incomprehensible flashes.
The streets aren't quiet tonight. They never are. Sure, they aren't full to brimming - as if people would come here, to the most boring part of this stupid city - but there are still a few old drunks wandering around. A few are throwing bottles at me and making suggestive remarks about my booty that I would rather ignore. Stupid fat old geezers. Some of them can be quite pleasant during the daytime, when they're just hungover enough to stifle the booty remarks but not quite enough to keep them from shouting obscenities at the teenage guys who live down the street from me.
I hate those guys, the teenage ones. They think that they are so amazingly amazing because they have all these hormones exploding out of their every orifices.
I don't buy it. I'm too old for that anyway, and even if I'm short, I've got more curves than a girl their age could ever dream of.
My mother gave up trying to find me a suitable mate long ago. She had this idea in her head that she could attach me on to any given male of this species and pretty soon, we would spawn. The dreams of people like her astound me.
Of course, I'm too good for anybody around here, and I guess they know it or they would be fawning over me like they drool over those sick girls that let their bodies be cut up by the surgeons.
I hate surgeons. There aren't too many things that I hate, but I hate surgeons. Not the kind who save people, I don't give a crap about them. I mean the sick freaks who objectify the bodies of ignorant, superficial girls. The surgeons that take big needles and suck out your cellulite, then craft you a new body from the remains of your old one.
And surgeons hate me too, because I have this short, curvaceous body with fat still hanging on in a couple places and they want so badly to suck it out with needles but I won't let them. They want to craft my body like they do so many others, and like any other predator, they hate being denied the most succulent prey.
The fact that I manage to trip over a tiny, innocuous pebble jerks me back to my senses. That's me. Graceful as a friggin ballerina. Whatever, the only people who saw it are the drunks, and they won't remember anything in the morning anyway.
Unless-
Hey who is that chick?
Ok, it's a little foggy and all, but I know I can see somebody coming. Looks like a pretty tall, skinny girl. With a body that even the most demanding surgeon would approve of. I think I don't like this girl already.
But I'm not saying anything. I don't recognize her and the general assumption is that she will walk on by like any other normal person and odds are I'll never see her again - she's probably some ditzy Capitolite who can't read a map to save her life. Aww, poor dear, did you get lost in the suburbs? That must be so terrible! Now why don't you wander back on over to where those big ol' lights are, back where you belong?
I bet she belongs in the Capitol.
I bet she does.
So. I have a general sense of your character and a fairly good sense of my character. Mine is cynical, angry, and desperate for escape. Yours is rebellious but quiet. {Correct me if I'm wrong.}
So I was thinking, if Britt has any interest in getting out of the Capitol, this would be great for both of them. To escape.
Plus, I wanted a way to get Nala into the Uprising.
Any other plot ideas? I'm totally open to anything.
i've given up
on giving up
I've heard that outside the Capitol, there are stars.
I've never seen a star, but apparently they are beautiful white pinpricks of light dotted across the night sky. I have heard this. But I have never seen one.
The Capitol never turns off, never takes a break. It's just a giant ugly city with a bazillion giant ugly fake lights flashing and leaving marks on your retinas. I bet stars aren't like that. I bet they're just the right amount of light to make you sort of happy but not to scar your retinas with incomprehensible flashes.
Wow, that was oddly philosophical of me. I guess the warm night air gets me a-thinkin' on my stroll down the streets in Capitol outskirts. Every night, I escape. My house. My house which is freezing cold on the warmest of days but always has the consistency of jello. Because of my mother. It's not my fault I hate her. I mean, I won't totally blame her, but what do you expect when you totally ignore a kid for ten years?
The streets aren't quiet tonight. They never are. Sure, they aren't full to brimming - as if people would come here, to the most boring part of this stupid city - but there are still a few old drunks wandering around. A few are throwing bottles at me and making suggestive remarks about my booty that I would rather ignore. Stupid fat old geezers. Some of them can be quite pleasant during the daytime, when they're just hungover enough to stifle the booty remarks but not quite enough to keep them from shouting obscenities at the teenage guys who live down the street from me.
I hate those guys, the teenage ones. They think that they are so amazingly amazing because they have all these hormones exploding out of their every orifices.
I don't buy it. I'm too old for that anyway, and even if I'm short, I've got more curves than a girl their age could ever dream of.
My mother gave up trying to find me a suitable mate long ago. She had this idea in her head that she could attach me on to any given male of this species and pretty soon, we would spawn. The dreams of people like her astound me.
Of course, I'm too good for anybody around here, and I guess they know it or they would be fawning over me like they drool over those sick girls that let their bodies be cut up by the surgeons.
I hate surgeons. There aren't too many things that I hate, but I hate surgeons. Not the kind who save people, I don't give a crap about them. I mean the sick freaks who objectify the bodies of ignorant, superficial girls. The surgeons that take big needles and suck out your cellulite, then craft you a new body from the remains of your old one.
And surgeons hate me too, because I have this short, curvaceous body with fat still hanging on in a couple places and they want so badly to suck it out with needles but I won't let them. They want to craft my body like they do so many others, and like any other predator, they hate being denied the most succulent prey.
The fact that I manage to trip over a tiny, innocuous pebble jerks me back to my senses. That's me. Graceful as a friggin ballerina. Whatever, the only people who saw it are the drunks, and they won't remember anything in the morning anyway.
Unless-
Hey who is that chick?
Ok, it's a little foggy and all, but I know I can see somebody coming. Looks like a pretty tall, skinny girl. With a body that even the most demanding surgeon would approve of. I think I don't like this girl already.
But I'm not saying anything. I don't recognize her and the general assumption is that she will walk on by like any other normal person and odds are I'll never see her again - she's probably some ditzy Capitolite who can't read a map to save her life. Aww, poor dear, did you get lost in the suburbs? That must be so terrible! Now why don't you wander back on over to where those big ol' lights are, back where you belong?
I bet she belongs in the Capitol.
I bet she does.
And I know I don't.
i'm blending in,
you won't even know me