My special place (Free RP i'm new!! :D)

(ooc: May I critique? You used "we" at least two times, but you weren't posting in first person. You may want to rephrase that and replace "we" with just "District 11.")

BIC:

"Kimmt" Cotwright

Kimmt walked through the streets of District 11, skimming the pages of a leather book entitled The Complete History of Panem: Book 2 of 5 without breaking stride, nearly running into a few people along the way. He let his left arm dangle, slightly brushing against the wall of an abandoned warehouse. Kimmt didn't even notice it; he was so absorbed in his binded piece of historical literature that it was a wonder how Kimmt managed to remember to breathe.

That was when he heard it.

"...were birds, I’d hover over you. If only my thoughts were heard, you’d know how much I love you.”

Kimmt supposed the singer was all right, but love-songs weren't his thing. Now, love-songs about geometry, he could very much listen to-if there were any in the world. Kimmt doggy-eared the page he was on and closed The Complete History of Panem: Book 2 of 5. His curiosity that had made him wish to be a tribute back in his youth (just to see what it was like) buzzed in him, and Kimmt slowly entered the warehouse through a rickety door. His footsteps echoed through the warehouse, making him stop; listening for any more birds flying around girls.

Kimmt tried to sneak through the warehouse as stealthily as he could, which wasn't much. The nineteen-year-old looked passed a corner and blinked at a boy playing a piano. Kimmt cocked his eyebrows, confused and with one wonder satisfied another popped up. What was this kid doing here?

But Kimmt really didn't want to find out. He felt slightly awkward, staring at a younger male. Kimmt took a step back, hoping to get out of there silently, when his foot felt an abandoned can of paint. Kimmt felt gravity sending him down, sprawling on his back. Dammit... he cussed inside his mind, knowing that the kid had heard him. Kimmt watched the paint can bounce away, a dent the size of his foot on its side.

(Yes, I take constructive criticism. Thank you by the way.) (Sorry post ended up short I am posting before bed. I'll make the next one better and longer.)

Micah continued looking around for the intruder. He heard a few more sounds and the boy, older than he was, stepped out. [red] “Hel—“ [/red] He began but was interrupted by a paper airplane that flew through the door. He took a glance at the stranger standing in front of him before picking the plane up and opening it. He saw the words in sloppy handwriting. He looked around for the owner and spotted her waving at him across the room. He waved back and said [red] “Hello, and hello to you also” [/red] he added to the boy.

Further addressing the boy he asked, [red] “You hear me playin’?” [/red] He looked down after the question somewhat embarrassed. He looked at the girl and raised an eyebrow flipping his brown hair out of his eyes. [red] “I don’t really play music for the many people” [/red] he informed the two.

Kimmt raised a brow at the boy. "Don't worry about it. I didn't come here to be sang too," he said. "Just wanted to see who was singing."

The Cotwright boy turned to the deaf girl-Violet Grace. Whipped into silence. Excruciating pain and no hearing-poor girl... Kimmt thought, his body-language showing sympathy for Violet.

Kimmt strode over to Violet and kindly took the pen and pad, hesitating to say "Pardon me." He scribbled: "Hello, you two. My name is Kimmt Cotwright."[/font] He smiled in satisfaction and showed it to Violet, then toward the piano-playing boy.

Kimmt politely as possible gave back the pen and pad to the deaf girl.

Violet Grace

[/size]

Her thoughts traveled back to that day. The day of her whipping. The blazing heat, the hunger she had. And the bright red apple just out of her reach. No peace-keepers in sight, well, as far as Violet could see. The apple was juicy, ripe, and probably the best one you'd ever taste. But was it worth it? Maybe. Well, the whipping wasn't. She remembered the peace-keeper. Hiding their face. Probably ashamed of having to do this. I mean, she was such a bright girl. The kind that was her families sunshine. Like, without her bright soprano voice, the sun would shine. But it wouldn't bring any warmth. She was set up in the town's central square. The wooden stand was set-up, and Violet was placed there. The first whip. Right to the back. Leaving a single welt that lasted the whole year. And one more was left. The peace-keeper pulled it back, and BAM! It went right in her ear. Making her eardrum explode. It was painful. Probably the most painful thing she felt. The day was her clearest in her head, unfortunately.

Kimmit and Micah were their names. And they didn't think the whipping was fair either. [/font][/color][/center]

Thoughts went through Violet's head in a flash. "Would this start a friendship? Or something more. No. No. No. Relationships weren't important right now. Or were they? No. Of course not. But it wouldn't be bad. Would it? I mean, I already have a broken eardrum, a broken heart, would that really affect me. Maybe. Wait? Why am I deaf in both ears? When I was whipped in one. It doesn't matter now. That's behind me." The boy gestured her to sit next to him.Violet followed these strange orders. Of sitting down next to him. He might be Taylor Swift smart.

(ooc: idk. just something sort of random. Ya know?)

This time. Violet was sort of embarrassed. She hadn't thought that Kimmit would think.. think that she likes him. Violet was deaf. But she could read lips. He said something like thank you and that's really good. She hated when people lied. But she couldn't really tell if he was. Violet always thought there was a reason to make a deaf girl feel good. Starting with they're deaf. Ending with they have a terrible life. Well. In Violet's opinion. There wasn't a reason not to make a deaf girl feel good. But Violet appreciated encouragement. It helped famous people get pride. So why couldn't it give a deaf girl any? 'Tell me the truth, do you really like it?' Violet wrote on a piece of paper. She handed it to Kimmit. The boy whose good at drawing.