You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~

Mr. Howling
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 16, 2010 21:02:55 GMT -5

Post by Mr. Howling on Nov 16, 2010 21:02:55 GMT -5

You have no hope...

Traditional fishing. A pole, a reel, and fishing wire. Boy, how I love fishing like this...The thrill of fighting a fish one on one. Sure, sometimes it's easy as hell, but sometimes a monster decides to take the bait, such as the one I'm holding down with my knee right now.

Stupid fish. Why can't you and your kind get it through your brainless head to leave the floating, dead fish in the water alone? You have no hope...

I wrap the wire around my hand. Memories of my dead father flow through my mind. I can see his face. The anger and the rage just coming alive as he screams at my mother, as he pours his addiction over my head and lights the match. All I can see is my helpless little self lying there, not able to defend myself from the tragedy to come.

I close my eyes and shake the memories from my mind. I open my eyes again, and I grip the wire.

RIP!

The large hook comes flying out of the mouth of the now deceased fish, along with some of its insides. A small feeling of satisfaction takes me over, and I fall on my back as I toss the fish back into its watery grave.

I lift my hand to my face as my own blood crawls down my hand and onto my arm. Fishing doesn't seem that appealing anymore. Not right now at least. I need something to do. Someone to torture. Something to kill. I run my bloody hand across my head, smearing it and letting it stain.

You have no hope.

Why can't those damn words just leave me alone? I know there's no hope. That's all I've been told since the day I entered the community home. I can't blame them. What else is someone going to say to a bald headed burn victim with a deformed arm? I'm sure it would be my natural reaction to treat him as an outcast. That's just the way people are.

I sit up and stare at the water. I wish human life could be like fishing. I just want to bait them in, fight with them, and then rip a hook out their throat. I want THEIR blood on my hand, dripping from my elbows. I want to smear THEIR blood across my head. I just want...

"Why don't you try putting an effort into opening up to some people, Tristian? I promise you, you will find some people who won't dislike you just because you look different.

Simple words. Typical request. Same reaction. They aren't worth my time. I somehow understand that Lydia only cares, but I don't. It doesn't matter to me anymore. All that matters to me is living and dying. I want to live. I want them to die.

Lydia would be so upset if I were to commit a murder, and she would blame herself. I wish she didn't care so much. It would make everything so easier. In some way, I've always admired her for not neglecting me, and yet I wish I would have been left to die, or better yet been raised by an abusive caretaker. Everything would be so easy. Everything would be so...

I stop thinking, and I get up and begin to walk under the boardwalk. I love it down here. It's dark. Secluded. A perfect place to die, or kill. It could be quick. A simple cut across the neck would suffice. No one would ever know.

As I walk, a few people walk by, enjoying themselves. Morning is a nice time to walk under the boardwalk, and many couples do. Love. Such a fake and twisted thing. There is no such thing as love. All I can do as I walk is think.

I have no hope.

"Hi, my name is Rhino and I love you."

Rosetta
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 17, 2010 16:40:37 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Nov 17, 2010 16:40:37 GMT -5

Yucca Ephedra

The calm, cloudless day found Yucca Ephedra under the boardwalk. Why was she under the boardwalk? Quite frankly, because she knew no other place to go.

Her fingers worked systematically, looping and tying the lanyard she held. Every so often, she'd stop to sweep her white-blonde hair out of her eyes. It was still a mystery to her why it was the white color it was. She'd been born with light blonde hair, but it soon began to fade and whiten, until how it was now, white and conspicuous. Perhaps it had something to do with the hours she spent out in the sun, and the even longer hours she spent under the moon. She sought to find the purple flowers that grew behind her house later, and weave them into her hair, just like she did with the yarn of the lanyards, to give herself some color.

Yucca ran her tongue over her chapped lips, and her mind wandered from her work. She'd done all she needed to do today. She'd hauled plenty of crabs from the tide pools, using her trusty net, she'd cut the meat out, and delivered it to her mother, who'd taken it without so much as a "Thanks". And, finally, although it wasn't even noon yet, she had checked the rough moon phase chart she'd carved under the boardwalk, to see that tonight would be a crescent moon.

Crescent moons reminded her of thin teardrops, or fat croissants that she'd seen her siblings enjoy, and her younger brother Net try to share his with her. Crescent moons weren't nearly as bright as full moons, nor as dark as new moons. They were merely there, trying to fit in, sporting their own craters, just like everyone else in this world.

Her thoughts drifted from the moon back to her lanyard, her fingers pausing for a moment, as they got tangled in a huge knot.

That's what I get from not paying attention, Yucca thought, slightly annoyed. She didn't feel like unraveling the knot, nor starting a new lanyard, so she stood, stretching her arms, wearily.

Yucca dusted off her jeans, and straightened her t-shirt. Her frost blue eyes darted around, keeping watch, as she pushed aside a familiar rock under the boardwalk, and stowed her lanyard in a hole underneath.

As she pushed the rock back in place, Yucca's mind ran through the possible options of what she could do now. She certainly wasn't going to head into town. Too many people, too much noise, too overwhelming for her to take. Net was probably fishing somewhere with her older brother, who'd be annoyed if she bothered them.

She'd just have to find someplace to go until nightfall, or "moon rise", as she called it...

Sighing, Yucca turned to go, but almost immediately as she did, she ran right into someone.

Stumbling back, Yucca blushed. "Sorry!"

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 17, 2010 23:42:00 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Nov 17, 2010 23:42:00 GMT -5

gavin doherty

[/size]
{My bio? Fine, take it}

The putrid colored sky darkens my mood as I limp across the beach. You know what's the worst part about all of this? My reputation is totally ruined. Nobody would want to sponsor someone who literally stepped on a crab, and then started to scream in pain, attempting to shake the damn thing off. I mean, it's a natural reaction, but nobody thinks of tributes as being "normal". They have to be fierce, brave, even horrible if necessary - they have to do practically anything to live, even if it means betraying your so-called-friends in the arena. After all, only one person can walk out alive.

I'm betting on myself to win next games. There's almost no chance of me not getting picked. After all, aren't the games sometimes rigged? The more interesting people are reaped, causing for a much more entertaining games. If the arena was completely filled with scared, weak tributes, nobody would watch. They would go off and do something else. Like macrame. So where would we be? By we, I mean us - the Careers. There wouldn't be any, for perhaps the Capitol would devise another way to make us "pay for our ancestor's sins". Personally, I think it's just a way to enforce control, but I happen to like it - I can regain my honor and ridicule Nila by my survival at the same time. My life would be complete if I could just see the look of defeat on my sister's face; just once would be good enough. The memory would last for eternity.

By now, the throbbing has stopped; I slowly massage my big toe, taking a seat on the warm sand. There are only a few things I like about District 4: The training center and the sand. That's it. I don't like the people, I don't like the smell of fish every time I walk out the door, and I especially hate the fact that these people think that they can be better than me. Yeah right - I'm one of the strongest Careers in the whole flipping district! There's no way that someone can best me in any kind of match whatsoever.

The pain has just about stopped now, so I gingerly take a step on the hot sand, and feel instant gratification. I love sand. It's really comfortable to walk on - I hope there's sand in the next games, I want to be able to feel it beneath my feet as I decaptitate someone with ease, much like that kid that killed that other guy in the Bloodbath. Now that was classic. Sure, he just died, but that guy was respectable.

The scent of fish once again wafts into my nostrils, causing me to scrunch my nose in disgust. How can father stand living amongst all of the fisherman and decaying fish flesh? He must really hate his job, for he spends all of his free time yelling at us to work harder, so we can move into a house in the Victor's Villiage - well he acutally only tells Nila this. He's kind of given up on me, sad actually. I'm going to prove him wrong though - I'll win the games and prove them all wrong. Gavin Doherty is an important person. I am important.

Right?

Why do I even bother to think that I'm the best? Simply because I'm good at fighting wouldn't ensure my survival - that much was proved by that D5 Male. He was ripped, but died on Day 1, being killed by that girl who he seemed to have a relationship with... Meh. Relationships suck anyway, filled with girls whining about you to get them presents and whatnot.

But really, I'm not that special, am I... There's so many other factors to look at, like eating stuff, and drinking water. You need to be wary at all times in the arena, and based on my little outburst over a crab, I won't survive long. I've... I've never thought of this before. All of my life, I've been striving to be better than Nila, striving to prove my worth to my father, when in reality... I'm not the hotshot that I thought I was.

...Well this sucks.

Sighing, I stare at the waves, the tossing and turning of the water doing little to help my attitude change. What's become of this? I actually have no idea whatsoever. Silently, I slip a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket, lighting one and inhaling deeply. As I exhale, I notice that it too, does little to change my mood. What... What's going on with me? Normally, even smoking can calm my nerves, but it's not working. This isn't right. I glance around, looking around. The atmosphere in the air hasn't changed; no kind of odd capitol air has wafted into District 4, sending a wave of insecurities floundering through their minds. So... Is it just me?

It must be me. A bit confused, I turn to go somewhere - anywhere, just to keep my mind from focusing on what I've just realized, when someone slams into me. For a second I feel panic, but then a bit of annoyance creeps under my skin as I gaze at the Moon-Girl. I've heard about her; the one who only likes to look at the moon at all hours of the night. The one with the white hair and blue eyes. Some call her a freak.

I used to do that too. But right now, I'm too dumbfounded at my ignorance. Was I really such a.. a prick? Flustered yet slightly annoyed at her stupidity, I snap at her.

"Watch where you're going, will you! For Ripred's sake, if you were in the Hunger Games, you'd be dead already, cut up by my weapon simply because you bumped into me! Jeez, you people just have to try not to bump into anyone..."

I trail off. Humiliating someone... It doesn't feel as good as it ought to be. I don't understand this - where's the old, confident Gavin? What kind of person am I now?

What the hell happened?
[/blockquote][/size]

Last Edit: Nov 21, 2010 19:07:43 GMT -5 by shrimp

Mr. Howling
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 22, 2010 2:41:41 GMT -5

Post by Mr. Howling on Nov 22, 2010 2:41:41 GMT -5

I want you dead.

Another couple walks past me. They deserve to die. They deserve to be stalked, driven crazy, and then murdered. I would cut the woman with a shard of glass, and I would stick a hook in the throat of the male...And rip it out...Over and over again.

What did they do to deserve such a brutal end? Nothing. Nothing at all. I simply have a need, and I need to fulfill it soon. Who knows? Maybe today is that day. Of course, I thought yesterday was that day...And the day before...And the year before...I need to know. I need to know what it's like to have blood on my hands. I must satisfy my curiosity.

But what if it doesn't fulfill you? What if you find that it does nothing for you, but cause more pain? More grief?

Hell no! Get out of my head!

It drives me insane when my conscience bothers me. I wish I didn't have a conscience. It's becoming easier to block the more I think about killing, but it still lingers. It's just another nuisance I want to rip a hook out of.

I would love to continue ranting about my insatiable desire to kill somebody, but I am distracted. Making my way back toward shore, I see a girl bump into a much larger boy, a couple feet in front of my path.

"Sorry!" she said aloud, blushing. I recognize this girl instantly. I refer to her as the "Lunar Chick". Her name is Yucca, but quite frankly, it's a weird word to say, and I don't like it. Besides, for a girl with white hair, Lunar Chick is more fitting.

The boy, who I'm not familiar with at the moment, shouts back at her.""Watch where you're going, will you! For Ripred's sake, if you were in the Hunger Games, you'd be dead already, cut up by my weapon simply because you bumped into me! Jeez, you people just have to try not to bump into anyone..."

I'm speechless for only a moment, and then I begin to laugh, but that was my mistake. This guy looked mad, and stupid. Maybe I would get to kill after all...

[Note: I apologize it's so short. I promised I'd get it done tonight though!]

"Hi, my name is Rhino and I love you."

Rosetta
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 22, 2010 20:49:33 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Nov 22, 2010 20:49:33 GMT -5

"Watch where you're going, will you! For Ripred's sake, if you were in the Hunger Games, you'd be dead already, cut up by my weapon simply because you bumped into me! Jeez, you people just have to try not to bump into anyone..."

Yucca froze as this boy shouted at her. She recognized him, just as she saw the recognition of her in his green eyes. Gavin Doherty, brother to the oh, so delightful Nila Doherty, whom Yucca had run into on an occasion...

She knew his type. Exactly like his sister. Obsessed with winning the Games. A Career. Only concerned with himself. And she'd just ran into him? Just fabulous.

He was much taller than her, casting a shadow across the cool sand, longer than her own, and she found herself backing away, slowly, her hands held up in front of her, as if to soothe his anger. She opened her mouth to say something, mutter another sorry? Pathetic. Scoff at him, roll her eyes? Yet, she couldn't bring herself to do it. The sun beat down on her head, making her sweat, although it was cold out, hurrying up in her decision. She was still contemplating her next course of action when laughter met her ears.

She spun around, her hair swinging. There stood another boy, one whom she didn't recognize at all. He wasn't much taller than her, thankfully, but he looked intimidating all the same. For one thing, he had no hair whatsoever. His head was completely bald...and scarred. It was hard to look at, just horrifying really.

Fire, she thought to herself, maybe fire is what caused it? Fire was a substance she knew to steer clear of. It wasn't something she'd dealt with often, usually spending her time in the cool, refreshing water, fishing, or tip-toeing, gently, into tide-pools, and drawing her net across. Still, she didn't particularly enjoy the heat across her face when she sat down in front of the lit fireplace in her home. More than often, when her father lit it, she'd slink off early to look at the moon.

She wondered what had happened to this boy to cause such scars, and discoloration. She glanced away, no longer able to look at it, biting her lip.

He was laughing, laughter that floated around her head, and crashed in her ears. Laughing at her?! What, was it a crime now, to walk into people?!

She looked up now, her pale hands balling into fists. "Alright, alright, calm down." She said, quietly, but angrily, her words hissing out, like a snake. She grit her teeth at Gavin. "I walked into you! What's the problem?!" She could still hear the laughter, ringing in her ears, although she wasn't sure whether he'd stopped or not. "And you...!"

She looked around at him, but at the sight of him, once more, she faltered, and stood there, unsure of what to say. Now, all her anger drained from her, replaced by nerves, a flutter in her stomach, she glared at her bare feet in the sand, and muttered, softly, not an order, a simple request. "Stop laughing, okay?"

Ugh, Yucca, she thought to herself, color rising to her colorless face, you're hopeless.

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 25, 2010 16:05:49 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Nov 25, 2010 16:05:49 GMT -5

Perhaps the old Gavin would glower at the slightly petrified expression on the Moon girl's face. Maybe I would have laughed as she defensively put her arms up, in an attempt to shield herself from my bitter speech. I would have relished the fear. But now... I can't concentrate on looking at her face. No, my mind is elsewhere, wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

Seriously, I never thought about this before. It's pretty unnerving to say the least. All of my senses.... They just seem so... dulled. I can't concentrate at all, and it's freaking me out. What's going on here? Normally, I have acute senses; I can see pretty well, and have damn good reflexes too. But the way that I allowed the girl to just crash into me proves that this is... this isn't right. Something's wrong here, and it's freaking me out profusely.

In fact, I feel an odd sensation arising as I look at the girl. No, I'm not a pedophile, I've already proved that. This feeling just... Feels horrible. There's like this pit in my stomach that just won't go away and it's making me feel really, really... upset in a way. Like I did something wrong. This is new to me; normally I wouldn't care what I did to others. They were always beneath me. But now, it just seems that the trait that created this side of me just... Vanished into the wind, if you know what I mean.

I mean, I can't explain it. All of these thoughts and emotions are just rushing into here like a shucking waterfall, pounding my head with the raging rapids. It's weird, it's annoying, and I want it to just stop. I glance once more at the girl with her ridiculous white hair and scoff a bit. She doesn't know what's going on in my head right now; she just thinks I'm a freak (and truth be told, most Doherties are freaks - just not in the way that I'm... Wait, I am a freak in that sense.), one of those crazy Careers who want to be thrown into the arena and choke some hoes.

But now... Was it really a simple second of doubting that brought upon this attack? It's disturbing. I have to get out of here. With a hasty "sorry" directed at the girl (goodness gracious, it's the first time I ever said that in my entire life), I start to just walk away, my thoughts clouded with confusion and a large percentage of irritation. But then my brain's penetrated with a loud booming noise. I turn around, my eyes glaring at the other guy, who's just laughing. What the hell? Who is this idiot, and why does he think he has the right to... to... humiliate me?

What's his problem? This fricking bald dude with the crazy scars on his scalp (Do I attract people with odd blemishes on their epidermis or something? Geez, first the multi-colored boy and now Scar-scalp?)... Thinking that he can laugh and scoff without getting a single shucking scratch on his shucking face. I may be frazzled, but my personality hasn't changed so much that I won't through a punch when I feel like it.

"Yo! Dude with the freakish scalp? What the hell's your problem, huh? You think it's fricking funny, huh? Well let's see how you react when you're in the Hunger Games, jack-ass."

Last Edit: Nov 26, 2010 23:10:42 GMT -5 by shrimp

Mr. Howling
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 29, 2010 14:54:32 GMT -5

Post by Mr. Howling on Nov 29, 2010 14:54:32 GMT -5

"And you...Stop laughing, okay?"

I don't know what happened here. I was just laughing. For all they know I could just be a retarded boy who wandered under the boardwalk. She asked me to stop laughing! ASKED! That was enough reason to begin another moment of laughter, but while I was lost in thought, about to start laughing yet again, another voice interrupted me.

"Yo! Dude with the freakish scalp? What the hell's your problem, huh? You think it's fricking funny, huh? Well let's see how you react when you're in the Hunger Games, jack-ass."

What does one say to something like that? I was terrified of this boy, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to deliver a jaw-breaking blow. Although scared, I remained stoic in my expression and mood, thinking of a way to come back to that.

My head was simply empty. I couldn't think of anything. Me in the Hunger Games? I liked the sound of that. Murder is the only thing allowed in the arena, and murder I like. On the other hand, "freakish scalp" pissed me off. Tremendously. Did I really want to fight this boy? He was twice my size. He looked stronger, and more skilled in terms of fighting. All I had was a line and a large hook.

A line and a large hook. Swing and release. Wrap around. Shove it down his throat and rip it out of his throat. The thought made me drool and little. I sucked it back up and looked him in the eye, raising the base of the hook to my fingertips.

"Hunger Games? I like murder. I like it a lot." I began to drool again. "Don't you like it? I do." I sounded like a nut. I could just pretend to be a little crazy. Just a little. "Would you like to experience what shedding blood is like? I would. After all, I am a freak with a 'freakish' scalp." A grin crossed my face.

(Sorry for the shortness! =[)
I hope I don't die...

"Hi, my name is Rhino and I love you."

Rosetta
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Nov 30, 2010 17:20:33 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Nov 30, 2010 17:20:33 GMT -5

Alright...these two were totally creeping her out.

Subconciously, Yucca backed up, a nervous sheen of sweat breaking out along her forehead. Her feet dug into the cool sand, little pebbles piling in between her toes. The temperature dropped several degrees as a cool breeze blew down the beach, her hair rising and rippling behind her. She swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat as the odd-looking boy spoke.

"Hunger Games? I like murder. I like it a lot. Don't you like it? I do. Would you like to experience what shedding blood is like? I would. After all, I am a freak with a 'freakish' scalp."

She knew it. Another Career, in a District full of them. And here she was, Yucca Ephedra, who personally wanted nothing to do with the Games, caught in between the two biggest ones she'd ever had the misfortune of coming across.

The Games had never been anything too prominant in her life. Her parents didn't have much interest, more concerned in their own personal lives. Her older siblings did train, practicing at home or on the beach. Her younger siblings picked up skills from them, anticipating the day when they too would get to train. Yucca had taken part sometimes, but her siblings would just push her away with a sneer, pointing at her hair.

"Oh please, you'd be dead within a minute. Your hair is way too conspiscious. Go stare at the moon!"

Despite this, she still dreamed of the glory...the honor...of winning. Even if she had to shave her head, winning would be enough. These dreams faded when Smera came along.

Three words, and their fate was sealed.

"I'm Yucca."
"Smera."

She was just the girl who was obsessed with the moon, and Smera was the girl who happened to weave lanyards in the same haunt of Yucca's-under the dock.

She had hardly known her. They never spoke after saying their names. They never looked at each other, just went about their affairs under the dock, Yucca carving moon phases, and Smera weaving lanyards. They had no special bond, they weren't friends.

And Yucca never cried for her. She didn't cry when she was reaped. She didn't cry as she watched her die on television. She never cried when the long wooden box came off the train, and her family fell down, overcome in dispair. Yucca didn't even shed a tear when she found the lanyard Smera had never finished, under that familiar rock.

They weren't friends. Not even acquantices, but after that, the Hunger Games lost its charm. It was just something they showed on television. It was just, simply, a game. It didn't have meaning beyond entertainment for the Capitol. And Yucca didn't care one bit.

Now she did care, as she shifted, awkwardly, from foot to foot, in between the two boys. She did care. She cared about their Hunger Games fueled blood lust. It scared her.

"Uhm, alright..." She mumurered, taking a small, shaky breath. "Uhm..." She trailed off, searching desperately for something to say, staring at the scarred boy who'd just spoken. "Freak..."

The word popped out of her mouth, and she instantly clammed up, growing paler than ever. She hadn't meant to say it. It was just something she'd muttered, something crazy...another of the crazy antics of Yucca Ephedra, the loony moon-obsessed girl!

Still, her mind repeated the same words over and over. Not good, not good, not good...

Not good at all.

Last Edit: Dec 1, 2010 15:57:14 GMT -5 by Rosetta

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Dec 4, 2010 23:42:27 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Dec 4, 2010 23:42:27 GMT -5

My mind can't think for a moment as he simply stares at me, his expression unchanging. What, have I made some crazed asshole blow his top? This isn't good. I can sense that Moon-girl isn't really comfortable either. For a while, the two of us simply stare at the bald-headed guy. We're probably both wondering the same thing - What the hell is this guy going to say? I continue to stare at the kid; I don't think that letting my gaze waver one little bit will help me in this quest for dominance. I may not have really listened in school, but I know enough to know that this is a battle for dominance - for the Alpha Male.

The kid finally opens his freaking mouth, and the words that are spoken send chills up my spine. Is this kid... Is he serious? Sure, we're all trained to kill others with a snap of the wrist, but does he actually want to see the blood dripping from their corpses, the cold stare that you see when the life fades out of the tribute's body? This is strange... It's almost as if he can't wait to go into the arena.

But then, I realize something - I was exactly like this kid, slightly bloodthirsty, eager to get into the games, wanting to win so badly that every move you made would be carefully planned in an effort to undermine others? Yes, we are similar. Ridiculously similar actually - this is freakish. I mean, I don't think I actually want to kill anyone, but the similarities are striking.

Have I become some odd therapist or something? What's with all of the revelations? This is really odd. I don't necessarily dislike it, but I feel that it's just not right for me to be noticing these things all of a sudden. So what was I thinking before these thoughts? I know that hate clouded most of my movements, as well as competition. I had wanted to beat Nila in absolutely everything. That... That had been my one goal.

That was the only thing that gave me pleasure in life... Shit.

I've lived an incredibly unremarkable life, haven't I... I mean sure, I trained, I'm strong, I'm calculative, but that's it. I haven't done anything at all to really make me stand out in the crowd. I haven't done anything to make me important at all. This is very.... Shocking. I would think that during seventeen years of life, I would have done something worthwhile. But clearly, that didn't happen.

A voice pops into my head, interrupting my thoughts. What? What did she say? Did she say what I thinks she just said? I gaze at her, my mouth partly open in a "oh my fucking god you're going to kill us" kind of way. Calling this kid... Okay, I did too but still. Calling him a freak is just going to infuriate him even more. Damn it. As stupid as this girl is, I don't think that she really should die today.

"Girl, back up. NOW."

I glare at her, and move in front of her, protecting her from the crazy's view.

"Dude, what's wrong with you? You actually want to hear the screams, see the bloodshed, be killed? You're crazy. I mean, we do train, but we don't actually relish the killing. You need help. Fast."[/blockquote][/size][/size]

Last Edit: Dec 4, 2010 23:44:05 GMT -5 by shrimp

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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Dec 8, 2010 3:08:33 GMT -5

Post by Mr. Howling on Dec 8, 2010 3:08:33 GMT -5

I'd like to say that being called a freak didn't nag at me, but sadly, it does. As I stand there motionless, holding the hook in my hands, my spirit makes me feel depressed. I'm not exactly sure what's going on with me right now. You'd think that one would get used to being abused his whole life. I'm still working on it.

I honestly don't know what to do at this point as this boy steps in between the girl and me. I can see that he thinks I'm crazy, and I don't blame him. I said some crazy stuff just now. I don't get it though. He was just about to kill this girl, and now he's trying to protect her. From me. How the tables have turned. Fear slowly sets in. This guy is serious. I'm not too bothered until he threatens me.

"Dude, what's wrong with you? You actually want to hear the screams, see the bloodshed, be killed? You're crazy. I mean, we do train, but we don't actually relish the killing. You need help. Fast."

My mind is bombarded with malicious comebacks. What does one say to something like that? I seriously need to dissect what he just said.

"Dude, what's wrong with you?"

Well, obviously a lot of things. I'm obsessed with death. I'm physically scarred and disabled. I have irrational fears. I have no friends. The list goes on and on, but I'd rather not dwell on my flaws.

"You actually want to hear the screams, see the bloodshed, be killed?"

I don't understand this boy. When I saw how he reacted to the girl accidentally running into him, I swear I saw myself in his reaction. I thought he was going to slit her throat right there. I don't understand at all. I look into his eyes and I can see that he wants what I want. Blood. Power. Of course I want to hear the screams. It's music to my ears. I don't want to see bloodshed. I want to cause it. I don't want to die though. That's one thing I would rather like to avoid.

"You're crazy."

I know.

"I mean, we do train, but we don't actually relish the killing."

First of all, who the hell says "relish"? We train to kill. That isn't a secret, and this brute knows it just as well as I do. We train to "relish" the killing. This boy would enjoy it just as much as I would.

"You need help. Fast."

I finally had to speak to this boy.

"Help? I need help? YOU THINK I NEED HELP? Since when do give a rats behind about what I need, you piss ant! You're the one who needs help! You're the one who needs to open your eyes and realize that Panem exists for the sole purpose of murder. The death of children. You know as well as I do that we train to kill, and whether you refuse to believe it or not, the Capitol expects us to lust for blood. I have embraced that wish, but not for them. For myself. I want to shed the blood because that's what it expected of me. It is what's expected out of each and every child who lives in Panem! You can't deny it. You lust for power. I can see it, and in order to achieve power, you have to win the Games. How do you win the Games? By murdering others. It's our way of life. It's what is going to happen, so you should get used to it!"

Then I turn to Lunar Chick.

"And you! You stupid girl! I can do whatever the hell I please. If I want to laugh at something I think is funny, then by death I will! I may be a freak, but you are a pathetic little girl with stupid, ugly hair! You are a moron! I mean, how hard is it to speak to someone you think is a freak? Was my presence so disturbing that you couldn't speak a single word other than "freak"? Really? Goodnight, this country is full of idiots!"

Last Edit: Dec 14, 2010 4:44:06 GMT -5 by Mr. Howling

"Hi, my name is Rhino and I love you."

Rosetta
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Dec 17, 2010 17:45:17 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Dec 17, 2010 17:45:17 GMT -5

((occ: please excuse the crappy post...I didn't make my school play...blahh)

Yucca felt the shift in emotion from anger...to...dangerous...if that was an emotion...I'm in trouble...I'm in trouble...this is bad..., the words whispered themselves in her head, choking all other thoughts...jeez Yucca, why do you have to be so dumb? Why can't you just keep your mouth shut? You're always getting yourself into trouble...

Gavin realized it too, yelling at her to back up. Well, I can take care of myself... But, she did as he said, and backed up. He moved in front of her, making sure she was okay...was this really Gavin Doherty...? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the boardwalk. The shadows were gently crawling across it, over her rock. She wished she was back there, weaving lanyards. Or better yet, under the full moon. Anywhere but here.

The boy now turned on Gavin, screaming words, words that are nonsense to Yucca...all that matters is that, he will turn on her. Very soon...She shrugged closer to Gavin, for some protection at least. If anything happened...she'd be okay, right?

As soon as he turned on her, however, she began groping around in her back pocket...for something...anything...a spray of spit hit her, as he shouted on. Calling her stupid, and such.

Her hand closed around the handle of her pocket knife. The knife she used to cut open fish. It wasn't much, but she knew how to use it. She could throw it, nicely, if she was ever confronted with a particularly large fish, thrashing around, and wanted to kill it quickly.

Think about this Yucca, the voice of reason urged in her head...don't do anything rash...slowly, she pulled the knife from her pocket. It glinted in the sun. She held it tightly in her hand, her left hand, her good hand. She took a deep breath, her breath visible. She licked her lips, and whispered in Gavin's ear. "Uhm, just in case..."

She held the knife up slightly, just so he could see it, but not the other boy. Her legs trembled, as she took another deep breath to steady herself. She let her fingers tense around the knife, knowing if anything came up, she'd never do it. She wasn't built like these two boys, both in body and mind. She could never actually hurt someone...

Now, staring up at the sky, she prayed night to come faster. While everyone felt most safe in their beds, she felt most safe under the moon. She licked her lips, once more, and whispered to Gavin. "Well...if you really can't handle it..." Please let him be able to handle this...she prayed...please...?. But, these things didn't seem to be in her favor lately...

Last Edit: Dec 17, 2010 17:46:58 GMT -5 by Rosetta

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

shrimp
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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~ Dec 20, 2010 18:48:49 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Dec 20, 2010 18:48:49 GMT -5

LIVING/THINKING - 3B693E
SPEAKING - 5C7743
FLASHBACK - 4A5A3C

The words that come out of my mouth seem cruel, nasty. It's like I'm looking at myself from somewhat of a bird's eye view as I spit out those words. Of course, I've done this all my life - "making fun" of someone had always been routine for me, to show my dominance, to crack a joke or two, you know? But now, the words feel cold and sharp coming out of my tongue, and I really don't like it at all. Plus, who the hell uses the words relish? My wording is off.

But as I end my speech, he begins to start this long-winded scream fest at me. The only thing that I can do is look on in shock - I can't... I can't believe that he thinks this way. He's embracing the kill? That's horrible! I mean sure, a few days ago, I may have envied him, but not now, no way. Just because I want power doesn't mean that I'm willing to do... Okay, maybe I was but still. I'm thinking differently now. Now, I'm less likely to kill just like that. I don't know why, but the thought now is making me slightly sick. Just slightly, mind you, but enough to make me focus on how horrible the words are that come sputtering out of his mouth. They're true though - oh so true. The Capitol does expect us to act like this, which must be why they're in such an outrage over Arbor and Aranica winning the games.

It's also true that you gain power from winning the games, but suddenly it doesn't seem to be as worth it. Of course, I'm going to kill just as quickly as the next guy, but I'm not going to stand there all wild-eyed and smile at my next kill, like this guy is clearly planning on doing. No, I'm too sane for that... I think. Finally, the crazy finishes his outburst at me, and I'm about to say something when he turns to MoonChildGirl. The accusations are less taboo then what he yelled at me, but at least I wasn't actually insulted! Sure, her hair may be a bit different from the norm, but there's no need to get all worked up all over it.

Well, I'm a walking hypocrite, aren't I.

Slowly, while he's still talking, I reach into my back pocket, my hand grasping onto the handle of the switchblade that I keep in there. Normally it's for cutting ropes, etc. You normally don't go around District 4 without any knife - most of our jobs revolve around knots and fish and cutting rope after all. My eyes narrow as I simply stand there, listening to this freak as he finally concludes his statements by calling everyone idiots. That would explain how he's acting then. I scoff a bit, the smallest bit of humor in that rage is funny enough to make me mutter "At least she has hair, baldie."

The girl was also busy while he was yelling. Light shines into my eyes and I squint for a second. My eyes proceed to open a tad bit wider than before as I see the edge of the knife in her grasp. So we've both got knifes. Great. She tells me that it's "just in case", but I'm sure that she's going to need to use it sooner or later - this freak is way too.... freaky for us to really be around him right now. She does then state that she'd use it if I couldn't handle the situation, but I'm sure that she's going to end up using it either way. Whatever.

"Just make sure he doesn't see it," I whisper, glancing up at bald man over there. I'm feeling a bit bold at the moment, angered by his ridiculous tangent of insulting her, Yumi or Yuka or something like that. So I smile, and a small little statement is said.

"Well, what if I don't want to conform, hotshot?"

[/blockquote]

Last Edit: Dec 20, 2010 18:49:08 GMT -5 by shrimp

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You Have No Hope {[Rosetta & Shrimp]}~

Post by Mr. Howling on Nov 16, 2010 21:02:55 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Nov 17, 2010 16:40:37 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Nov 17, 2010 23:42:00 GMT -5

Post by Mr. Howling on Nov 22, 2010 2:41:41 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Nov 22, 2010 20:49:33 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Nov 25, 2010 16:05:49 GMT -5

Post by Mr. Howling on Nov 29, 2010 14:54:32 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Nov 30, 2010 17:20:33 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Dec 4, 2010 23:42:27 GMT -5

Post by Mr. Howling on Dec 8, 2010 3:08:33 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Dec 17, 2010 17:45:17 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Dec 20, 2010 18:48:49 GMT -5