closer to the edge & wings

apocalypse

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closer to the edge & wings Jun 22, 2011 11:08:32 GMT -5

Post by apocalypse on Jun 22, 2011 11:08:32 GMT -5

friday lopet !

i don't remember a moment i tried to forget,
i lost myself, is it better not said?
now i'm closer to the edge.

it was a thousand to one and a million to two,
time to go down in flames and I'm taking you,
closer to the edge.

The point of life? To reproduce and then have your kids reproduce. It was stupid. The only people lived was to make more people live. Wouldn't life be easier if no one lived? If there wasn't such a thing as life, there wouldn't be a such thing as death. And who wanted death (besides sadistic people)? Exaclty. Nobody knew and nobody wanted to die. So then who had the great idea of life? Well, Friday didn't know, and she could care less about it; so far, her life was good. Well, the bad part was that her parents wouldn't accept her as a lesbian.

Friday enjoyed that part a bit.

Why did she enjoy it? Particularity because she liked being different. She liked being hated for who she was just a teeny bit. It made her feel like she did something she was supposed to do - when in reality, it wasn't illegal to be homosexual. Well, onto rather important matters.

Friday woke up, blah, blah, blah, and left her house and headed towards the training center. Today, she was ready for anything.

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Last Edit: Jul 2, 2011 1:59:53 GMT -5 by apocalypse

wingsonmyheels
Career Tribute

[M:-2485]

522 POSTS
last seen Apr 15, 2014 9:14:43 GMT -5

Never take life to seriously nobody gets out alive anyway.

closer to the edge & wings Jun 25, 2011 20:48:48 GMT -5

Post by wingsonmyheels on Jun 25, 2011 20:48:48 GMT -5

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Hero Bellew:

Hero was up early just like every other morning, he used the dark before dawn to run from his house to the training center. Some people found it odd that someone as big as Hero would like to run, but Hero like methodic work, and running had a certain rhthym to it. Plus he loved the time of day, the dark was unusual and eerie, and the tempature was oddly cool. Catchy tunes would always pop in to Hero's head while he was running, he liked to pace himself to the beat, changing the song constantly to increase the speed or slow himself down if he's really tired, but continue running at a steady pace.

At the end of the journey Hero stopped jogging and sprinted over the last hill. As he slowed to a stop he looked around at the career center. It was a series of fields, one of them was an outdoor weight room, another was lined with dummies full of hay and carved of wood, there were 2 others one for wrestling, and the final one, unkept and dirty, was for survival and such. There were also 2 warehouses full of equipment the kids might need to become the best tribute they could, and even a small cafe with picnic tables circling outside.

Hero walked right by the cafe, entered the dark warehouse, spitting and writhing as his tall frame caused him to walk face first into a spiderweb. He grabbed a few weights, stared down where the web was, and exited the shack. He racked the weights on the benching bar, he wasn't doing as much as he could if was lifting heavy, but since he wanted to repp this, Hero was facing a challenge. He kept using the techinique he'd been taught from an earley age, breathing in every time he brought the bar down, exhaling every time he benched.

He was half way through his work out though, at the end of this specific set, and he panicked, he started to what he called "row" the weight where his form got all messed up. Hero tried to push through it, but on the next rep he was stuck, using all his force to just not get crushed. He couldn't cry out, he couldn't moved, he was paralyzed and he needed help.

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apocalypse

guest

closer to the edge & wings Jul 13, 2011 23:18:30 GMT -5

Post by apocalypse on Jul 13, 2011 23:18:30 GMT -5

im a real big fan of yours,
but im quite the joke to you.
but girl it wasn't a joke -

The jingle in her pocket was going to be the sound-track of her walk to the training center. It was simply coins for a snack or something. Each step had made a jingle come, and Friday learned how it worked, and anticipated each one. With the unusually baggy pants she had on, in would happen more often. Friday noticed people staring at her as she smiled to herself; enjoying the money banging together. So what if she had a knack for hearing money smack? Some people enjoyed to a point where it got weird, money is something Friday learned the ways of. She was proud.

The training center was now in sight, a sigh of relief coming out of Friday's mouth by accident, thought it wasn't impolite, even if no one was around. Friday looked around, eager to see who else would be coming this early - but it was a nice day to come before the rush. The calm breeze would keep her relaxed, and refreshed. A few steps behind her, she noticed a small blond boy being led by a blond girl, probably brother and sister. Friday had never had the life with a brother or sister, but it was too late for that, now. On a near-by hill, Friday noticed a large man, and he started walking the same moment she did.

The man had been walking the same way she was, except she was planning to go to the fields, like always. I wonder what it would be like for once to do something different. So Friday followed the strong-looking, tall man towards the building. She had been there a few times, but she preferred being outside. What she didn't know at the moment, that inside was where you just got the weights - which she never used, or she used the ones already outside. They were close the the warehouse now.

Passing the cafe, she had to buy a coffee. "Uh, can I have like, a normal coffee, with, two packets of sugar?" That would be enough to wake her up, she was still yawning and rubbing her eyes. "That'll be three dollars and seventy-four cents, please." Looking in her pockets, she found five dollars. "Here ya' go!" Friday handed the money to the women working today - blond, curly hair. Large, beady eyes. She was a nightmare. "Your change is one dollar and twenty-six cents!" Friday smiled to the women and took the coffee, taking a sip. Almost losing her the man, her eyes spotted him walking into a building.

The coffee gave Friday a lot of warmth, but that was only one sip. Another sip and Friday's mouth was on fire. She started secretly to spas out, and luckily, no one noticed, especially not the guy she was stalk- following. The next sip she took was more careful, and it felt better. Not knowing where she was walking, she followed the dark-skinned man in front of him, she soon realized that she was -

Following him into the equipment room, Friday saw him walk straight through a spider-web. She chuckled at him, quietly, though. Not wanting to look obvious, she picked a pair of minuscule weights, compared to what he had picked out; heavy dumbbells. As he left the building, she followed him out to the weight-lifting field, somewhere she never went often, but she did go to the fields next to it, for dummy-practice and survival skills.

Now, Friday wouldn't count this as stalking, it was more like, following. She was simply curious of the daily routine of this guy. Sure, she had followed him into the training center, but she had stopped at the cafe for a brief second to get a coffee, so she wasn't completely following him. She had her own life, too. She had her own friends, she had her own school-life, and her own secrets. But, for the last minutes, she had dedicated her life to some random guy she noticed while walking in the training center, and it wasn't that weird. People did this everyday, so it wasn't really a crime if Friday was just curious.

She put her coffee on the ground next to her. Picking up her pair of small weights - ten pounds each - she stood close to the guy, and she couldn't tell how old he was. He was tall and muscular; showing a more masculine, mature side. Yet, why would someone train if they would no longer go in the games? Friday observed the guy's patterns. She realized one major thing; the way he breathed. When he put the weight up, he breathed out. When he brought the bar down, he inhaled. It was something many people had done, something that made it easier. He stopped for a while, and she got nervous. He was just sitting there with the weight above him.

She put her coffee on the ground next to her. Picking up her pair of small weights - ten pounds each - she stood close to the guy, and she couldn't tell how old he was. He was tall and muscular; showing a more masculine, mature side. Yet, why would someone train if they would no longer go in the games? Friday observed the guy's patterns. She realized one major thing; the way he breathed. When he put the weight up, he breathed out. When he brought the bar down, he inhaled. It was something many people had done, something that made it easier. He stopped for a while, and she got nervous. He was just sitting there with the weight above him.

She needed to help the strong guy.

He was there, lifting a weight in mid-air, but he hadn't moved himself for a while. Was he like, stuck? Or was he just practicing, trying to like, make his muscles even more ripped? Eventually, Friday came to the fact and knew that he was paralyzed - knowing that if he moved, he could be crush and get seriously injured. Friday walked over to the guy, and became a bit intimidated. She could see his veins rippling through his arms. Perhaps he was doing this on-purpose. Maybe he was one of those ruthless careers. Friday doubted it - as far as she saw, he was a friendly guy, well, he didn't do anything wrong. Friday walked over to him and asked, "Do you need some help?" knowing that if he was stuck, he probably wouldn't say something or nod his head, she simply put her hands on the weight, and using all her weight, picked up the weight. Sighing with relief, Friday wiped her brow.

"Hi, my name is Friday, nice to like, meet you." Honestly, Friday was only being nice to him because: a; she was lonely. b; she didn't want to make him mad - she didn't know if he was a 'ruthless killer'. She stuck out her small hand and waited for the guy to stick out his dark, strong, hand.
im a little bit insecure,
from all of this mistreatment.
but working it out is so damn hard.