S l i d e {Luke}

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kneedles

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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 15, 2012 11:27:48 GMT -5

Post by kneedles on Sept 15, 2012 11:27:48 GMT -5

Man alive, Tallow Tansy had never been so aware of just how much stink there was at the heart of everything. It sounded weird to come to that realisation- they lived in district ten after all where shit lined the earth inches deep and the festering scent of animal carcasses loomed like a maudlin funeral gauze- but this was different. Propped up in bed, she could feel the stench creeping sinisterly under her door; the burnt edges of momma’s egg dinner sulphurous and clinging to the bottom of the skillet sitting in stagnant water in the kitchen sink, her father’s cigarette smoke rimed with tar and tobacco leaves, dancing like coiled serpents in the dim glow of the candle light, cremated chunks of ham clinging to the bottom of the smoker way out in the smokehouse and the moribund lingering ash still rising from the charred remains of the funeral pyre her brother had constructed for his pigs. Separate, she could smell the edges of each nauseating scent and together it formed a whirling nauseating mess. She needed to get out and find a way to really breathe but it felt as though the only way to do so was to rip a hole through a clear strip of cellophane right into the intoxicating atmosphere around her.

Hopefully changing her clothes still stale with the flecks of old vomit chunks would make her feel more like a human being again, as would getting a cup of water to fix her foul, coppery tasting mouth gasping out for moisture. She slipped off one nightdress and replaced it with another, padding barefoot out into the concrete slabbed hall of the house, her boots at the backdoor which she laced on. It was morning, on a cloudless day, the sky tinged blue and pink carry a kind of perfect clarity that only the dawn could have. Everything else could feel stale and rancid, filled with pain and worry and lingering decay but the morning’s sky would only ever have the cool crispness of cracked ice. The water pump in the back yard seemed stiffer than usual, her arms aching with the effort and at first the water running through it was hard and colored like the rust that scabbed over the corrugated metal of the Tansy house but when it was clear Tallow drank it by the fistful, trying to find some relief in splashing tepid water onto her face.

Clutching at a cup, she made her way back to her room finding Scutcher’s door open just a fraction like the slim slither of a new moon. This early, and she expected to find him in the first stirrings away from sleep. He stayed up late and rose early but when he did, it was the sleep of the dead; heavy and not easily broken unlike the fluttering naps that Tallow took, woken by the slightest movement, a creak in the door, if Scutcher turned in her arms and his breath whispered against his neck. Whatever dreams he had were thick and immersive, waking up in the morning with eyes scrunched up tight and curls rumpled up by the pillows. If not sleeping, then he’d be up and frowning over accounts, eyes getting smaller and smaller as the numbers did too. She felt wretched as well and how did the old saying go? Misery loves company. No one did misery quite like the Tansy kids, so pushing open the door she went to join him.

However, she found the room empty , he was there in the in the smallest ways- the only way Scutchers ever really are- his flowers growing a little limp on the window sill, his clothes in the bureau and his socks curled up under the bed. But the sheet had not been slept in and yesterday’s clothes did not drape over the edges of the bed frame the way that they always did. Scutcher could always be counted on to stick to some semblance routine so the smallest shift made Tallow nervous, finding the battered khaki parker he wore in the winter and slipping it over her night clothes to fight the bite of morning’s frigid air so that she could track down to the pig huts and find him.

It wasn’t that she thought something was wrong per se, just that it was different and shed had quite enough of different now as the pig disease came with Naif Malloc, spiralling the world that she clutched close and jealously guarded beyond control. She found Scutcher in one of the pig arks, slumped over on his back. It made her smile faintly, assuming he’d worked late, resting his eyes for a moment only to have lost the whole night. Dropping to her knees, she saw the shimmer of a trail of drool like a snail trail around his mouth, clinging to the light bristle that had formed during yesterday and then overnight. Don’t ask me why, she thought, mentally throwing her hands up in the air, but I love him. All the way down and ripred help us both. Crawling on her knees, slipping in beside him, it was only then that Tallow noticed something was terribly wrong, marking the laboured huffs of his chest as he fought for breath, the flecks of blood on his forehead. She could smell some traces of a strange night, as powerfully as a bloodhound might catch the scent of a rabbit; vomit somewhere in the hut, blood in the hay as she could feel the curl of fear around her throat.

“Scutcher, wake up,” she commanded sharply, slapping his face, ready to demand what answer he could give her her because Tallow couldn’t find her own conclusions, just the ominous intuition that something wasn’t right. “Scutcher, I aint kidding around!” She took the water and tossed it over him, bringing her brother gasping back into the land of the living. For a minute he looked around blinking, taking stock of his surroundings and then he remembered, presumably, grabbing onto her shoulder.

“Naif he….I don’t…Tallow, Naif….its…it was weird and I’m sorry….I didn’t know what to do.”

“Shh,” Tallow whispered and allowed herself to be pulled into a hug, winding her arms around his neck and stroking his hair. “I got absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, slow down, Noodle.”

He couldn’t though, trembling breaths as he tried to calm himself and unpick whatever was tangled up in his brain. Resting her chin on the top of his head, she then saw the glint of something small in the corner. Amazing that she spotted it really, it was literally a needle in a haystack. Breaking away from him, her fingers found it- didn’t have to study for too long to know what it was.

Tallow didn’t much care for the kind of hard drugs that she knew about, alcohol was the greatest loss of control she’d permit for herself, but she knew morphling when she saw it. Swallow Anne preferred to take the drug she’d been born gasping for orally, but Tallow had been with her when she’d been offered- and declined- the stuff that you inject. Tallow didn’t understand though, what it was doing on her property. It couldn’t have been Scutcher, she thought wildly, where would he get it, how would he get it and why the hell would he ever want to spend money on it. “What the fuck is this?” she asked sharply, holding it out in front of him.

“Naif gave it to me. It was…Tallow, it’s all over.”

“What the fuck are you talking about Naif gaveit to you?” She stood up now, her voice a low whisper as her face rearranged itself. On the surface, Tallow seemed calm; icicles didn’t have anything on her as she slid her hand into the pocket of the parker. She was still waters with barely a ripple, her hands didn’t shake nor did her mouth tighten and twist. But underneath, Tallow boiled; a white hot tumbling furnace of hate swirling inside of her willowy body, ready to rush forwards and realise a fire on the world, leaving nothing but the charred remains in her wake. Naif Malloc had given Scutcher hard drugs, probably to point and laugh at the way he’d react to it. Tallow was going to kill him- he of all people should have been kinder to Scutcher, knowing what he was and how his brother had been, understanding how fiercely that Tallow loved him and had to protect him. She didn’t care about anything else now; just that she was going to kill him. The way that she should have done all of those nights earlier.

“He gave it to me…and…I saw things and then…he….”

“Then he what?”

Scutcher shook his head firmly, turning beet red and Tallow didn’t think she could handle any more revelations, already fighting back nausea swimming inside of her.

“He said he was going to tell people about us if I didn’t do what he wanted…but I just…I didn’t want to do it. It didn’t feel….good. And I hit him and now he’s going to tell. They’re gonna send me away, aint they Tallow?” Naif wouldn’t tell, Tallow knew he wouldn’t. Not after all of her threats, not the night on the roof when the revelation about his own brother had been admitted and yet somehow he’d wanted to convince Scutcher that he would. To blackmail him. But what on earth could Naif Malloc have wanted from her brother that badly? What could Scutcher possibly have to give? She knew him and she loved him, but no one else in the entire world saw what she did; to everyone else he wasn’t smart, they had no money, he was strong but he got muddled up in instructions, no one else felt how powerful it was to have him smile, wrap his arms up around her and…

He wouldn’t have done.

“Scutcher…” she trembled over the words. “He didn’t kiss you or touch you or nothin’ did he?”

The slow nod of his head made her sure that she was going to scream and claw at something, preferably Naif Malloc’s face until the blood spurted out. She didn’t want to picture the night…when she’d been laid up, trying to sleep off the…pig disease…and Naif Malloc had come round, with a twisted evil plan. She wouldn’t picture it, pressing into him, sticking a needle into his brother waiting for him to go limp and lose control and…no. People weren’t allowed to touch her things! There was no way that Tallow was going to let this go, no way that she could even stand to sit and rage about something like this when there were no words, only swirling torrents of hot fire.

“I’m going to fix this,” she said coolly to her brother, fighting her best to keep it all together, and she managed it because she was the expert of hiding her emotions, wearing her impassive face like a hollow mask always, but when she stalked out of the pig ark, across the lawn and into town, she didn’t even bother to change, just kept her nightdress and her trembling rage hidden under Scutcher’s thick parker.

**

In so many ways this was worse than what Jack had done by miles, and she’d still been sure for a few moments that she was going to kill him. That time, she’d had a plan and a way to send a message but it had spiralled beyond her grasp, this time, she didn’t even have that; just the bubbling broil of her anger. It was quite easy to picture killing him. Knives and poison and lengths of rope or simply just…erasing him from the earth, like cleaning up the smudge of a mistake from a piece of paper, like wiping shit stains from around the edge of a toilet seat. Because it was so early, the curtains on the Poer’s place were shut up, only a rooster crowing on the lawn showed that there was any sign of life at all. Regretting everything that had happened from when Naif Malloc had first arrived in her family’s farm and when she’d brought him here, she didn’t pound on the door, didn’t want to give him time to know she was coming and wriggle out of danger like a pathetic worm on a hook. She needn’t have done so though, twisting her hand around the knob she found that the door had been left unlocked, leaving Tallow to enter the house.

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Last Edit: Sept 22, 2012 5:48:59 GMT -5 by kneedles

cyrus
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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 15, 2012 17:02:45 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Sept 15, 2012 17:02:45 GMT -5

You’re losin’ your touch, Elias.

Another game of cards lost. I folded down the ruddy playing cards down onto the table and leaned back in my chair. A creek escapes into the air as I stare at the other men surrounding the table. The light hanging overhead casts their shadows against the walls of the old bar, and smoke lingers like a fog underneath. All of them owe me something—look at them relishing in their glee at taking money from me—from their various debts. Some had borrowed against their homes, others for the feed they needed, still others to be able to buy one of my prized horses. And the carried interest had left them in worse shape than they’d been before, begging, borrowing, and stealing to pay back what the owed me. Because if they didn’t, I played my hand, and sent along those who would make it clear that they were to make good on their debts.

But tonight had felt different. There was less chatter about the way that their crops had been faring and more about the fair that had come and passed. To which I’d been content to sip my whiskey and suck on my cigarettes without saying a word. I knew what they were all angling toward the moment they discussed the women of the fair. They weren’t intent on talking about Tallow, the pretty young thing that had won the pageant. They weren’t going to mention Melrose that had been giving handy’s behind one of the concession stands. No, I watched their lips, my own heart pounding as conversation shifted back and forth. One fold after another. One more stack of chips lost. Another draw. Another fold. I rolled my cigarette between my fingers and took a drag. In cards it was about pressing the advantage, and working with other players—conspirators—to off the competition.

Seems that there’s even a pretty little lady for you, Elias… They snickered and haw-hawed before looking at me. They had known the story—that I had been suckered into a wedding a few years ago, drunk as hell and naïve, too—tricked into marrying a pretty little gypsy. They got the horses they wanted, and I got the dead weight of a wife. It’d been nice enough at first, to be able to come home and f—k her whenever I wanted. To have something that would cook and clean for me, to do all those mindless chores without having to pay her. Even had thought a few times that there was something to her mousey demeanor that suited me quite well. She never resisted me; not in bed, not in the kitchen.

But it was too easy for her to contradict me, even when she was nothing more than a ghost in the room. It was why I had struck her so many times. It was why I buried her in the pillow after a long night out. She was there to give me what I wanted, nothing more. And just like most things in my life, she was shiny and new until she wasn’t. There came a time when she wasn’t the lustrous and wonderful thing she had been—not the girl with golden curls that was fresh and new to me—and I saw her as an ugly nuisance. She plagued me. She crawled underneath my f—king skin with her whispers, with the way that she looked to me and did laid plates of food down in front of me with those doe eyes watching. She was a f—king b—h, just like the rest of them. It hardened my hands.

Throttling her was a game at first. I raised my hand to her and she shrank away, like a violet cut off from water and the sunlight. She was nothing. There might have been some repercussions if she had anyone to look after her—but no one f—king challenges Elias Poers. The field hands are paid too well, kept too close to the vest for anything to happen to me. I would send them to hunt down anyone that might feel otherwise. I had burned enough barns to the ground for people to speak out against me. The sound of clattering plates an wailing was of no concern to them. And she knew f—king better than to go into town with a black eye or bruises up her back. So I would play a game with her, to see just how much I could get her to scream under my hold before I would make her crash to the floor and weep. I would twist her arms or slam her against the wall. I would take her on the bed and bound her to the bedposts so that she couldn’t move. Because I was fucking king, and she was nothing but mine. She didn’t own half of this—she didn’t even have the right to my name. She was sold to me. She was my property.

Now seems to me the records’ say you two still together… but I don’t even rightly remember last time I saw her in these parts… I looked up from my cards then, and give a glance through the haze of smoke. Three aces and a pair of queens. A small smile curls across my face. Of course they were all like vultures, circling me as though this little b—h would be the end of me. Surely I couldn’t just have her offed—not now that everyone knew she still had some sort of claim to my farm. But I wasn’t just about to let everything slip out of my grasp. The golden ring was mine—I had ~~stolen~~ earned it fair and square—and there was no one on Ripred’s green earth that would ever, ever have it. Not unless I was six feet underground, and even then—I’d find a way to bite them in the ass.

Well now… I take a drag of my cigarette and puff out a few smoke circles. She had run away from me, after the last time that I had beaten her. There had been blood, then. A split lip. A few screams. I can’t remember, I’d had so much to drink that all of it was a blur to me. But I could see some of it in slow motion, how she’d moved to block my arm, and I’d fallen forward. I slipped off the side of the table, chasing her through the kitchen and struck the ground, hard. Like a tree, my roots upended and body collapsing down, I’d crashed to the floor and blacked out. She was gone—taken a few things but everything else left the same—and I’d never seen her. Not for two long years. We were still married in the sense that I’d needed her to sign away her life for me, something that hadn’t happened in the wake of her leaving the district. But it didn’t mean she had any claim to anything. Not after she abandoned me.
You know it broke my heart when she left… They all shifted in their seats at this, but no one said anything. Broke it up that she left me with nothin’. Don’t rightly know why I should take back someone that… abandoned me. Suppose that the judge will feel the same way. She just seems to be back to get what she wants… and I don’t think that’s the way the law works around here… not for me, anyway… With a grin I laid down my cards upon the table. With both of my hands I grab onto the pile and pull it toward my face with a grin. You boys should know better than to try and play me… I win every time… I always win!

The walk home was a blur of colors as I pressed my way along the dirt roads. Sure, I’d filled my pockets up again with the money of my debtors, but there was no greater pleasure than what I had waiting for me at home. Yes, a sweet pair of legs to throw over my shoulders—one that even cried out and resisted me—young and beautiful. Shiny and new. Naif Malloc had been a fine addition to my herd, a scavenger that had been begging for a new life in district ten. His face had taken my breath away—he was so remarkably similar to his brother that I had wanted to have him then and there, at my doorstep. Even with the pigshit mixed into his hair, I could see the potential. His pale white skin and gentle frame made me hunger—my heart beat a little bit faster and I licked my lips at the sight of him. Perhaps it was his connection to history, that he was a part of someone infamous that it drew me to him. Or that he had some of his brother’s beauty without the helplessness of his bizarre speech and mannerisms.

Whatever had been the case, there was little reason for me to reject a new toy.

As I closed the front door behind me, I threw off my coat and pulled away my belt. I hummed a little ditty to myself and wiggled my hips before pressing a foot to one shoe and knocking off the other. Tonight was going like gangbusters. There was more to the win at the bar—I’d realized that I didn’t need to destroy Wren after all. Why not just destroy her f—king reputation? Why not just send men to harass and demoralize her, to make her realize that this world was nothing for her and she wouldn’t be happy, even with a hand on my pursestrings? Because if she wanted to fight me, then she was more than welcome. Messing with the bull brought horns, and I intended to catch her in the stomach and make her bleed out over the carpet. No one took from Elias Poers without paying back in kind. Whatever her f—king quest was, there wasn’t a chance of her succeeding. Not with what I had on my side.

I made my way up the stairs then, giddy with another glass of whiskey in my hands. I downed it just as I reached the top step and with a grin pressed against the wall. Honnneeeey, I’m hommmmeee… I called out then before breaking into a fit of laughter. He would be on the other side of the door, then, cringing, knowing how this was to go. He’d be standing near his bed, and would get out a squeak of not tonight, please but there was no stopping this freight train. Not with all the want I had, not with the thoughts of him pressed down against the covers and crying out for me. And so I’d pull his hands up over his head and watch him struggle in my grasp. I let him call out for anyone to make it stop, but that would drive me further. And I’d strike him across the face before settling his whimpering form back down onto the bedspread. My pants would be off and our two bodies together, working and grinding and sweating, until at last I was satisfied. And he would weep, knowing that all this was to happen again and again—because he was mine, my shiny little toy.

The key found its hole, but didn’t turn. I’d left the door open. The room was empty, lights off, with the bedding untouched since it had been made that morning. The window had been left open, and a gentle breeze caused the sheets above the canopy to sway. I let out a snort as I entered before pressing in further. Both of my hands grabbed at the bedding, twisting my fists together and tearing at the fabric. My face flushed red as I let out a howl to wake the dead—screaming at the top of my lungs to shake the walls around me. He was gone. He had gone and he had broken my rules. He had gone out without telling me. He had decided to make a fool out of me. What was this, but a house of cards, teetering down, ready to fall apart at any moment? First Wren… then Naif… what was happening then? Had I gotten sloppy, after all? Had I fallen prey to my own pride?

No. I shook my head and stormed out of the room, slamming the door hard behind me. No, he was going to rue the day that he decided he would sneak out under my nose. I pressed down the stairs with a clatter and made my way to the kitchen. I would make his toes curl. I would make him scream, louder and harder than he’d ever done. I would watch the breath escape from his lungs and would show him, see, this is what you get if you disobey me. This the price of deciding you can do what you want. Because no one is more important then me. I shook in my anger, standing in the kitchen, pouring myself another glass of whiskey into a tumbler. A bit splashed onto the counter and I hissed. I hurled the empty bottle against the wall, shattering it into pieces. No one.

The knob to the kitchen door turned, and with a click I could hear him enter. I knew he would come up the side of the house, trying to sneak in like the little bastard that he was. The record played over it all, the phonograph calling out to Naif as he stumbled through the darkness. I took a long drag of my cigarette, the red of the end illuminating my face some. He gasped for a moment, falling back against the door. Our eyes met and I gave him a grin before blowing out another breath of smoke into his face. He shook, his hands back against the cupboards, but tried to stand tall. He smelled like death and looked as much the same—but all of that didn’t matter to me. He was home.

“Well…” I stood from my spot and Naif let out another quiet shriek. “Well isn’t it nice to see that you made it…” I pressed in close and he closed his eyes, a shrinking violet. Oh, how glorious was the blond on his head… the beauty of his creamy white skin. His little hands, roughened with the work that I’d given him, but still fresh from his days in D6. “Don’t look so glum to see me, sweetheart. We’re going to have… fun…”

The first blow against his face left him staggering and swaying back and forth. “I thought I told you,” I huffed as I grabbed at his neck before laying another blow to his stomach. “I thought I told you…” I hit him again and again, the fire within me burning hotter, whiter as I watched him croak out. “You ain’t supposed to talk to no one…” I grabbed him by his neck and threw him toward the counter, knocking him into a set of pots and pan. The porcelain shattered against the floor as he flailed, trying to stop himself from the blows but failing. He turned again, but too slowly, his hands now up towards his face.

“Please Elias… please… I’m sorry…” He muttered then but I was on him, my first hard into his face and he sputtered once again. I could feel the crunch of his nose against my fist, and I laughed as his legs gave and he wound up on the floor. He coughed and sputtered out blood before reaching a hand weakly up toward me. “P-please…” I brought a knee hard into his side. I wanted to murder him. I wanted to make him hurt. I would show him who belonged to whom. And his blue eyes, cutting through the darkness like ice stared up at me, still resisting me, somehow, and I set at him again. I grabbed him up by his shoulders and threw him against the wall.

“You wanted freedom right? Isn’t that what you wanted? Get away from me? Have fun without me? Is that what you wanted? To have some fun?” He shook his head and tried to cry out, his body shaking, but I wasn’t letting go. I only twisted my grip more tightly before slamming him into the wall yet again. “You don’t get to f—king get what you want? DO YOU HEAR THAT? YOU DON’T GET WHAT YOU WANT! YOU… DON’T… GET… WHAT… YOU… WANT!” With each word I slammed him into the wall. His head flopped forward and back an I drove him hard against it, the calendar hanging a few feet from us shook out of the wall from the very nail which it was hanging from.

He cried out again as I grabbed at his shirt, ripping the buttons off, pulling at the clothing as he tried frantically to struggle away. It was a futile effort, his hands batted away easily. I pressed my lips to his neck and sucked hard, causing him to let out another shriek. He tasted so good. His shirt was off, exposing his white skin. My hands moved down his body and I grinned, feeling him against me, my big body pressing his against the wall. I could feel a few tears slide down onto my cheeks as I kissed him, or it could’ve been blood, I wasn’t sure. In any case, there was such euphoria in his touch… such… power it drove me further… I couldn’t stop then, not now, not ever. Naif Malloc was mine.

I dragged him along to the couch, into the main room, and threw him down. His body shook as he wept then, tangling himself in the afgan. The jingle of my pockets signaled the fall of my trousers, and in another moment I was on top of him, our two bodies pressed together. Mine, he was mine. And there it was, then, the natural order of things progressing as they should. The snake devours the mouse, his jaws opening and the little thing disappearing inside of him. Because he was never going to escape me, not as hard as he tried. Not as much as he yelled. It only drove me further as he wiggled underneath, me hazy from alcohol but oh-so-strong, loving his body against my own. Ripred. It was better than anything—better than all that I owned, better than keeping this place from falling apart.

I was too lost to hear the door opening. I was too lost to see that Naif had turned to look at whomever had come to disturb us, but instead, grabbed at his neck, squeezing it tightly as I neared my finish. “Say it… call him… say it… you know what I want… you know…” I growled into his ear. I had known all about Naif’s little love—his bizarre fantasy with his brother, knib-knobbin’ in his room and pressing onward because he fancied his brother. Oh, how I knew what he wanted and how much it excited me. To make him think I was him that they were together… that all of us were somehow connected. It was just what I needed to push over the edge, for the dulling of the whiskey down below to be overcome. He let out a wail, louder than anything and I moaned.

“CYRUS… CYRUS… Ooh…” He cried, and in another few moments it was over. The afterglow failing as he wept into the pillow, me moving to sit up then, naked as a jay bird, laughing. I patted my stomach and stared then, my eyes focusing on the figure of one Tallow Tansy in the doorway. The… fuck… And all the cards fell then, the whole damn house, down onto the ground and on top of me. I stood, teeth bared as though I was some sort of wild animal. The fuck! THE FUCKING FUCK.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” I roared as I stood then, delirious and dripping and sweaty. I nearly tripped over the coffee table as I charged her, fist up in the air. “THE F—K ARE YOU DOING ON MY PROPERTY YOU F—KING C—T? GET THE F—K OUT. GET OUT!” I roared as I pressed to lay a fist into her, arm drawn back. With a full force I swung hard at her stomach, ready to burst her into a million pieces. She would ruin everything. She had seen everything…

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kneedles

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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 16, 2012 4:32:01 GMT -5

Post by kneedles on Sept 16, 2012 4:32:01 GMT -5

The poer’s ranch was exactly how she remembered it, still carrying the traces of the parents Elias had thrown out and slight homey touches that didn’t seem to suit the Elias that Tallow knew. But it was still more impressive inside than almost any other home she’d been in and only, Tallow could imagine, the victor’s houses set apart from the rest of the district- most of them empty now, as effective as gravestones to mark their lost tributes- could out do his place in times of size and cleanliness. It was hard not to step inside and feel more than slightly embarrassed of the Tansy farm; ugly and dank, rusting and falling inward onto itself.

This time, however, Tallow didn’t mark how clean the floors were, marvel at the fresh furnishings and the clean smell in the air rimed only faintly with the smell of smoke and strong whiskey. Stepping back, her eyes immediately fell upon the twisting shape of two bodies pressed into each other, writhing, rutting, and crying out like some wretched mutation wriggling into life. Stepping backwards, she tried to find away to slip out when her eyes met Naif’s, watering and filled with pain.

“Say it… call him… say it… you know what I want… you know…” Elias commanded Naif through his grunts, a rasping sort of power behind it that took even Tallow by surprise. She knew what he could be like, the kind of man that demanded respect and had the brutality to take it on the tip of a bruised knuckle if he needed to. It had appealed, somewhere deep down, to a primordial part of Tallow, a primordial part stirring in all of them surely- the part that felt a twist of pleasure at violence, the strange sickening but not altogether unpleasant rush that plucking the wings from moths like petals from daisies gave her. In the district square, with the smell of blood in his nostrils and the heat of the fires on her face, Tallow had looked up at Elias at the epicentre of it all and thought he was, in that moment…magnificent.

How quickly he could tumble down, into something of the dirt, sweating, beastly. There was nothing beautiful about sex, not if you saw two horses going at it or a pig mounting another- but she’d never seen it be quite so ugly before. Even up against a dumpster from her youth or in the outhouse with her brother, one foot balanced on the seat of the shitter wasn’t nearly as ugly as this.“CYRUS… CYRUS… Ooh…” Naif cried, wrapped around the edge of tears and Tallow wished she could have been far away. There was nothing consensual about the act; the rough thrusting and violence in Elias’ eye, Naif’s resigned misery. A good person would fetch help, run in herself and pull Elias from on top of Naif, scream and shout. But all Tallow could think of was the pig arks, morphling in her brother’s veins and Naif Malloc forcing her brother- who didn’t understand. The world flowed out from her in concentric circles, giving Naif Malloc the most just punishment he deserved.

It was over quickly, like a rough punch. She’d searched frantically for someplace to hide, working out whether she could simply run the way she’d came just as Elias slumped onto the weeping form of Naif. The door behind her swung shut in the wind, just as his eyes turned on hers. All that power, all that blind hate had not been worked out by what Tallow had just seen- it still festered there inside of him making Tallow’s heart flutter and the bones in her collar, under slim papery skin, tremble. “I didn’t…Elias….” she started quickly, hands out, trying to make him see that she had no quibble with him, she didn’t give a shit about anything that she had just seen. She’d come for Naif, Naif was the bad one- who’d forced Scutcher into things he didn’t want to do and who…Elias could do what he liked, even if it was forcing Naif into things he didn’t want to do and honestly, with all the shit and sweat and semen in the air Tallow was trying to find it hard to focus on the real monster. Naif and Elias; a beast with two backs.

Descending on her, Tallow shrank back against the wall, if he hit her- well that was fine. But after what she’d seen, she wondered what else Elias was capable of. From their night together almost a year ago, Tallow knew it wasn’t just little boys that got Elias’ Poer’s blood up among other things. I’ll bite and scream and scratch before the bastard gets near me if I have to. I’ll tear his face and I’ll fight. I won’t roll over, take it and weep like Naif it.

She expected a slap across the face at the very worst, as most girls tended to- but instead, screaming “THE F—K ARE YOU DOING ON MY PROPERTY YOU F—KING C—T? GET THE F—K OUT. GET OUT!” he sent his fist right into her stomach. Tallow screamed out as the pain exploded right through her, squeezing her innards, tightening everything inside and for a minute, instinctively, the curl of horrified panic found her. Tears in her eyes, Tallow slipped against the wall and to the ground, the pain too unbearable to stand, making it too unbearable to stand up. Is this what it takes to feel like a fucking big deal in district ten? Pushing little boys into sofas with your trousers around your ankles and taking them in ways they don’t want, and then punching girls who were…feeling under the weather…right in the stomach.

Tallow wanted to vomit, got up onto her hands and knees but forced it back down, instead looked up at Elias, panting around the sharp pain, wondering it was all the punch or if the pain was down to something inside being damaged. “You fuck…you fucking monster,” she gasped out.

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Last Edit: Sept 22, 2012 3:39:49 GMT -5 by kneedles

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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 16, 2012 15:50:24 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Sept 16, 2012 15:50:24 GMT -5

Narration
Thoughts
Speaking
Other people’s words
Naughty bits

I twisted and untwisted my fist as I stood over Tallow’s crippled form. Sweat dripped down my thighs and onto my calves as I stood naked, hanging over her. My chest heaved as she looked up at me, broken and crouching as though my punch had been enough to take down the one and only Tallow Tansy. Come on and get up then, I sneered down at her, come on and show me what you’re made of… or are you just as pathetic as the rest of them? When her lips moved it was acid meant for my eyes. She was good enough at that, cutting through the air with her words as though she could lay some kind of blow on me. “You fuck…you fucking monster,” she managed to stammer out. With a smirk I looked down at her, pathetic wench that she was—not the strong and devious girl I had seen on the stage at the fair—but a gentle, weakened shell that had been broken. And underneath was a soft skin, just like the rest of the miserable bastards in this district.

I spat in her face before bringing my fist across it one more time.

“I don’t appreciate f—kers like you coming onto my property unannounced… covered in pig shit and all… and you’re gonna disrespect me to boot?” I clucked my tongue before moving to take her throat in my grip. “You’re gonna tell me who I am? Oh, I think you made a f—king mistake Tansy. Made a f—king mistake tryin’ to come here? This the one that you’re looking for? Did little itty Naify tell you somethin’ I need to know?” I look back then to the couch where Naif sits, curled into a ball, weeping into a pillow. His back shakes as he heaves, arms tight around the pillow as though it will protect him. He turns to look over at Tallow and mouths something but the mucus in his throat only lets him get out a throaty wail. I look back at Tallow and draw in close, my breath hot against her face. “Or are you here to f—kin’ tell me how you plan to pay fer what your brother owes me? Ain’t got much time for that, y’see.”

I snorted as I threw her back against the wall again and moved back. I pulled up my pants and buttoned them with a grin. “Oh, Naify boy…” My boots clanked against the hardwood floor as I angled around the coffee table slowly and stood over his shaking form. “Oh my little Naify…” I clucked my tongue and moved to put a hand on his back. He let out another shriek and I shushed him, stroking his soft skin like the little pet that he was. “You know, you’ve brought me nothing but trouble since you came to my doorstep…” I placed a hand on his chin and tugged upwards, angling his face close to my own. He tried to look away but I grabbed harder, forcing him to look me in the eyes. “You’ve been pretty naughty lately, from what I can tell, running out about town… without me… talkin’ to your friends…”

“Please Elias… ple-hee-hease…” His voice is tiny and breathy, all of it forced through his heaving as he clutches the coach, hoping that it will swallow him up and away from me. He looked to Tallow then and let out a shriek. “Tallow… Tallow…” His voice is choppy as he sobs again, his tears plastering his face. In the dim light I can see his eyes red and his chapped lips. I can see and even taste the fear from him, the fecal stench of pig on him—he’d been rolling around with the Tansys for sure—all of it mixing together as he shook and pleaded. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” He wept again, but this cry wasn’t directed toward me. I looked then from Tallow to Naif and shook my head. With a flash of silver I opened my cigarette case and plucked a rolled cigarette into my mouth. Click, click.

[/color]

“What did I tell you about talking to people?” The words hung over Naif like a weight, ready to pull him down, down, down into the earth. “What did I f—king tell you about that? HUH?” I hovered around for a moment before bending over, and with a jangle, had my belt in hand. I raised it into the air and watched Naif’s face twist. It excited me again to watch—that wonderful moment when all the power and strength he had left vanished, and all that remained was fear. It was in the curl of his lip, the widening of his eyes, the twist of his little fingers. That his muscles all contorted and that he sucked in air, ready to shriek and cry out for me. All of it was power, raw power[/color], leaving him and entering me.

“You…” Smack. “Don’t…” Smack. “Get…” smack. “What…” Smack. “You…” Smack. “WANT.” Smack.

I stood back and took a drag from my cigarette, holding my arms out and moving them as though directing a symphony. I brought the belt down again and again as he shrieked out and before at last tossing it to the side. With another long drag of my cigarette I ran a hand back through my hair and let out a laugh. The rush was dizzying. Never before had I felt so in control, so powerful, all of it mine and never anyone else’s. The world was an oyster in my hands—not his, not hers, not any s—ty mother—ker in district 10. Who needed to be a victor when I could be king of this hill? Who needed fame, when I could have infamy? No, no it was all beautiful and twisted.[/color] All of it was me, I was District 10.[/color]

“Ah yes… ah…” I placed my hands on my hips and let out another laugh. “But I am such a rude host aren’t I? With a party like this we need drinks, no? We should all have a round to celebrate a breakthrough. I’m sure neither of you will ever think twice about what you’ve done…” And maybe, maybe some would have said that this was too much.[/color] Maybe someone would have said that I was a horrible human being, that this was humanity at its worst. But what did they know of me?[/color] What did they understand of power, of property, of what it took to keep the wheels turning and power balanced. This was all mine, I had earned it, and there would never be another like me. Not as long as I lived. And I intended to be a part of District 10 forever.
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kneedles

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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 17, 2012 10:31:25 GMT -5

Post by kneedles on Sept 17, 2012 10:31:25 GMT -5

Tallow, clenching her teeth together, tried as best as she could to regain a little bit of composure- pulling herself up onto her knees with a wince. Just as she did so, she felt the hot sticky splatter as Elkia’s saliva collided with her cheekbone, splashed up against the corner of her lips and began to dribble down her chin. No one, not in fifteen years, had ever treated Tallow Tansy like this, not among all of the roughest, most uncouth dogs in all of district ten- not even her father who was the vilest, most despicable person that Tallow knew. Perhaps it was the supercillios sneer that came so easily to her, the hot flush of her temper that kept the dogs at bay, perhaps she was just lucky that this had never happened before. He slapped her and Tallow did all that she could to steel herself, to pull her head up and rise to meet his gaze.

She was a delicate thing when you got down to the sheer physical side of things. Slender though years of starvation though a little puppy fat had come to settle around her cheeks, her bones were brittle and tired and when Elias’ hand closed around her throat she knew that there wasn’t much that she could ever do to fight him off. Tallow’s strength wasn’t in muscles and clenched fists and all she could do was keep it so that her eyes- though they might water involuntarily- never waivered and that her chin jutted sharply and defiantly in Elias’ direction. She tried not to sputter, she tried not to choke, surpressing the curl of fear that he would squeeze too tight and for too long, choking the life right out of her and in it all only an icy hate showed up on her face, that and a clear look of indignation that she just couldn’t hide.

Elias could do what he liked, to who he liked- there was no moral sensibility in her that prevented it, no desire to step in and play the hero. And why shouldn’t he? Money. Power. It endeared men to a lot of people and took away a lot of the accountability to boot. Especially when there was no one left to give a fuck about scraps of shit who couldn’t look after themselves getting into trouble and getting in over their heads like little Naif Malloc?

But how could he hit and spit on her, how could he do that to Tallow Tansy? She wasn’t some little person to be trampled on. Even if her daddy hadn’t been lucky enough to inherit a large ranch and a bunch of exspensive horses, she still understood Elias Poers better than anyone in the district. There was a spark, a sharpness in her that lifted her above all the pig shit and onto a level footing with Elias Poers, best breeder in the district, so how dare he try to reduce her to little more than one of his playthings. Snapping and snarling as he released her, Tallow’s hand went to her throat, the other one curling around the still intensely sharp aching in her stomach, mouth ready to spit out something else and fuck the consequences because Elias didn’t get to treat her like that, of all people…he just didn’t.

“Or are you here to f—kin’ tell me how you plan to pay fer what your brother owes me? Ain’t got much time for that, y’see. He began to speak about owed money as though he owned them though Tallow couldn’t possible understand what that meant at first. True they owed money left right and centre, especially to the landlord. The farm wasn’t theirs- when they’d first moved in they would have never been able to buy the land outright- renting from a tactiturn man who was never ever understanding when it came to paying the rent late. But their farm and their finances was nothing to do with Elias, than fuck. Although…they had been low on money and funds over the past few months and both Tallow and Scutcher were worried about what they were gonna do to keep the farm afloat. The realisation came to her, too tired to rage and to worry, just a dim acceptance. Of course he’d fucking borrowed money from Elias. Yet another mess Scutcher had got her in that she was going to have to fix. And how, she couldn’t say yet.

Elias was done with her though, instead turning back to his little Naify, his little toy and Tallow was disgusted in spite of herself. She’d never seen Elias like this, not around town during an ordinary day where he wore the grin of a man with food and his belly and money in his pockets, not when he’d charmed them all- more so than any of the contestants even- at the beauty pageant, or when he’d stirred up a riot inside of all of them in the name of Noreen Lexington. But it had been there all along, a lurking evil at the heart of him, twisting up in vein and bone and synapses. This must have been the way that he saw everyone. In one way or another, surely then, he had them all naked and bent over a sofa. Fucking them all. Tallow’s fist bunched up around her night dress as she refused to admit- like so many things she wouldn’t admit to- that she was powerless against him.

“Tallow… Tallow…” came the weak mewling from Naif and she turned to look at him, her expression twisting into something appalled. Did he not know why she was here? Did he really have the nerve to look her in the eye as she sat hunched over, ripped apart inside from the blow that Elias had just given her and beg for her to find a way to help him? Tallow tipped her heads towards him mechanically, an evil curve to her lip. “Eat shit and die Naif. I hope Elias beats your ungrateful ass to death.” He knew everything about her, had sat on the rooftop at the dance with her and let her kiss his cheek, let her offer words of comfort and think of the two of them as kin. But Tallow now realised that she’d been wrong, they weren’t kin at all- she was more like Elias than the weeping boy in front of her. Or at least she could aim to be. She’d come here for revenge against Naif- the rest was immaterial.

For now. But if Elias ever raised a hand to her again she would kill him.

“I don’t,” she started, looking now at Elias, hand pushed into the wall as she used to haul herself to her feet, “I don’t give a fuck about what you do to that little shit.” Her teeth were gritted together through the pain as she spoke at first, before she forced herself to relax into it, to speak smoothly, “Whatever you want, Elias, whatever you need...who’s to say you can’t have it. Not me. You know I don’t care about little shits like this. Pieces of nothing. Frankly I’m ashamed you think I’d be some bleeding hearts fucker.” A painful cramp ran through her stomach so strong that Tallow wanted to scream, but she forced herself not to, instead, taking a step towards Elias she smiled and dripped poison. Looking like the flower, but being the serpent hidden underneath it.

“You’re Elias Poers, you do what you like and fuck everyone else. Why would I ever stop you?” Tallow pulled up her night gown a fraction so that he could see all of one slim thigh. “It’s why I like you.”

Tallow looked over at Naif and her smile vanished, “I came here for the fucker,” she said quietly, with a sneer. “Your little toys been shooting morphling in my pig huts. Then he tried to fuck my brother.” Her hand wasn’t trembling as she laid it on Elias’ shoulder, it was all she could do to keep it steady, terrified that he would hit her again, but she stroked softly against his bare skin, made it so her parker flapped open and he could see the outline of her breasts, larger than ever, pressed up against his chest. “He’s been laughing at you, Elias,” she whispered. “I know what you are. I know what you need. All that power inside of you, how magnificent you can be,” her eyes drifted noticeably down to his cock. “But this shit… This outsider….he thinks he’s better than ten. Better than you.” She looked at Naif with nothing but hatred in her eyes, curling her arms lightly around Elias, stroking his stomach before turning to look him in the eye.

“I only came here to make sure he paid. For what he done to my brother, for what he done to my Elias,” she threaded a hand through his pubic hair and played lightly with it, “I won’t have no one disrespect you. Not someone so strong. So important.” she bit her lip, stood on tiptoe and then whispered quietly to him, “It makes me wet when you hit him like that.”

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Last Edit: Sept 22, 2012 3:40:29 GMT -5 by kneedles

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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 17, 2012 20:18:52 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Sept 17, 2012 20:18:52 GMT -5

Naif twisted and curled on the couch like the broken little bird that he was. There he lay, with his broken wings, all twisted up in my nest and with nowhere to go. And he called out to Tallow, as though the c—t would ever be able to help him, as though she would turn against me. I knew her better than that—perhaps better than anyone—that Tallow Tansy had no heart, no soul. She was mean, relentless and thrived on the darkness that hung heavy in this district. She was a hurricane that swept through the land and ripped apart everything in her path because she was—I licked my lips at the sight of her on the ground—a harpy that drew strength from chaos. And she did it with grace, an effortless grace that belied her tiny frame. She was beautiful and dark; she was all the things that a strong woman should have been. But even she wasn’t enough to stop me now.

“I don’t… I don’t give a fuck about what you do to that little shit…” At this his mouth hung open and he let out another croak, before closing his eyes and collapsing into the pillow with a rack of sobs. In the moonlight and the flicker of my cigarette it’s a menagerie of macabre and sexy—what f—king power it all was—that the pearly white skin on his back, dripping with sweat and semen… it sent another shiver through me and I smiled down at Tallow. He could never be more beautiful in that moment, powerless and alone. I let out a little sigh as I watched him move back and forth, moving his hands and crying out as he discovered the blood. He trembled as he tried to sit up, only to let out another yell. My little bird, unable to fly. “Whatever you want, Elias, whatever you need...who’s to say you can’t have it. Not me. You know I don’t care about little shits like this. Pieces of nothing. Frankly I’m ashamed you think I’d be some bleeding hearts fucker.”

Of course not. For her to bleed, she’d have to have had a heart in the first place. But what would someone like Tallow have of use for that? The district had swallowed up any chance she’d had to be something the moment she’d been born. Loomis Tansy was a f—king excuse for a human being, and should have brought nothing but shame to her and her kin. The shit from their pigs was about on the same level as they were—a shame for someone with so much promise—and if she’d ever had any chance, it was washed away in the festering sore that was her brother, Scutcher. The f—king mush head was following her around like a puppy dog, even at nineteen f—king years old. He’d be with her until the day she died, no doubt, unless he choked to death by swallowing his own tongue or some other unfortunate mishap. It was the only thing about her that turned me away from seeing her as the fine little pet she could’ve been. After all, what good was it to pork a girl that cared so much for another man, one that probably needed his ass wiped after every meal?

“You’re Elias Poers, you do what you like and fuck everyone else. Why would I ever stop you? It’s why I like you…” The light at the end of my cigarette went out and I turned to stare at Tallow. There was no consequence to what I was doing there. There could never be. I was Elias Poers. A king of District 10. Naif let out another gurgle as he heard these words, whispering Tallow a final time before shaking into sobs again. She was resplendent in the moonlight, like a queen awaiting her coronation. The nightdress clung to her small frame and her breasts were fresh with sweat and droplets of blood, yet she was never more regal. Powerful, unstoppable. She was electric, standing next to her, disavowing Naif for the trash that he was. I moved to strike another match and caught a cigarette in my mouth. Sucking it in I held it before letting out a few smoke rings. I might have let things lie then, and taken her to my bedroom and left Naif to wallow in his mess until morning. I might have taken in the afterglow for all it was worth, had she not told me the truth by being there.

“I came here for the fucker… Your little toys been shooting morphling in my pig huts. Then he tried to fuck my brother.”

There are few times in my life when I’ve felt myself grow close to losing control. There was a certain rush to it, to pushing toward that point where I knew that there was no turning back. One could be absorbed into it and lose himself. Like when I’d wrapped the cord around my father’s horse while we were riding so that its legs had given out and the whole thing had gone tumbling over in the field, crushing his body underneath. In the seconds before we’d connected, I could feel the rush, I could see that there was nothing but this—no turning back once I’d done what I needed to do. And there is a swell of the heart and the rush of blood—there is a feeling down below, deep down in your crotch that feels as though you’re about to float off the very planet—and it connects you, full force, as though into a wall of bricks. You’re a thousand different pieces in that instant—you lose yourself to what all of it brings. But when I heard the whinny and saw my father looking back at me, there was nothing better. The very fibers in its legs snapped as the horse crashed down, tumbling over, smashing him and my father together, onto the ground in the field far and away from where we were. And I’d sowed the seeds and taken what I’d wanted, because I had wanted to be king.

“He’s been laughing at you, Elias… I know what you are. I know what you need. All that power inside of you, how magnificent you can be,” Her words carried into me, they flowed around my head like the siren she was, and I believed it. They were true. Naif f—king Malloc, brother of Cyrus Malloc, thinking he was from District Six, high and f—king mighty. He had eaten my food and he had taken my generosity, and now he had broken my rules. He believed that he was better? He thought that his insignificant little body, his pathetic excuse for a life, his sadness and downtrodden existence was better? He was worse than the f—king hicks of the district. He was worse than the Tansys. He wasn’t fit for f—king, then. He wasn’t fit to be my prize, to be the one that deserved my affections. No. He deserved nothing.

She whispered a few more words but I was already stomping my way toward him. Naif fell back against the couch and tried his best to scramble away, but I had him by the throat easily. “You think you can just walk in here…” I squeezed then, his tiny little neck like a twig, and watched as his eyes grew wide. “You think you can just come in here and disrespect me? You think you can just f—k about like I’m not even going to notice?” I grabbed harder and Naif rasped. He put a hand up to my grip but I ripped it away in an instant. “You f—king little piece of s—t!” I twisted his neck in my grasp and I could feel the bones of his neck shift in my grip. He let out another whine. “You f—king little worthless piece of… piece of… f—king trash!” I wanted his eyes to burst out of his head from my force. And in another moment I had released him. He gasped for air as I moved back for the belt, and again Naif raised his hands.

“No, no! Elias, P-please! PLEASE,” He looked to Tallow one more time before shrieking. I wrapped the belt around his neck and twisted it. He coughed, reaching out toward the girl as though she were his savior. I snarled as I yanked him upward and onto his legs, shaky and unable to hold him then. He cried out in pain, forced to stand as I threw him against the wall. I twisted the belt tighter.

“You wanted to see what would happen, is that it? You wanted to f—k around and hold it over my head like I weren’t going to see it? Hmm?” He reached for the belt and struggled, but there was no life left in his fight. I throttled his head against the wall and he let out another rasp. “You wanted to feel like you weren’t a no good piece of shit?” I twisted tighter, pressing in close to his face. “That’s all you f—king are. Your brother f—king left you, should have told you how worthless a piece of s—t you were. Parents dead because of you. Do you think anyone ever loved you? Do you think anyone would ever care about you? They ain’t ever had a reason. You f—king piece of trash. Even had to f—k this up, didn’t you? After all I gave you… my little Naify…”

I leaned in, pressing his body against mine and moved to give him a kiss on the lips. I held it there, taking in his sent, feeling the fear. I slipped back and began to pull on the leather. GRACK. His wrasp called out into the air and I twisted again. GRACK. His hands clawed at the leather but there was nothing he could do. GRAAAACK. The veins on his neck stood then, and I could see, even in the pale light, his face turned darker. GRAAACK. Is that what it looked like to die, when everything was ending and you had no hope? GRAAAACK. When your whole world was ending, and this was the best you could hope for—a death that would mean nothing to those in the room. GRAAACK. And all of him would fade forever, his body chopped to pieces, fed to pigs and horses. GRACK. Alone and broken, just as he’d always been.

I slammed his hard against the wall one last time before releasing him. He collapsed down into a pile. His chest heaved and he vomited a mix of blood and bile onto the floor. His eyes closed and life hovered over him.

I turned to Tallow then, wanting something to cleanse my pallet. I wanted something that would stop the thought of—the thought of thinking about him as though he weren’t just another plaything—and swept in close. I moved a hand quickly under her nightshirt with a grin. Mine. She was mine. I pressed my lips against hers and forced my tongue down into her throat. My hands played underneath the fabric as I took her. I pulled back, face flushed and heaving, before pressing against her again. My hands moved up to her hair and swept through them before I placed a kiss on her neck. Drunk with power and whiskey, there had been no greater euphoria than tonight.

“Just you f—king wait,” I slurred. “Just you f—king wait to what I have to show you Tansy… I’m gonna to give you everything… gonna make you…” Mine. She was going to be mine, if just for that night. “Gonna make you wish you never had to leave this place…”

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kneedles

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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 18, 2012 10:32:06 GMT -5

Post by kneedles on Sept 18, 2012 10:32:06 GMT -5

I can make head’s turn. I can make men orbit me like planets, hanging off the smallest word. I can have them carve out their own hearts with sharpened knives, wrapped around bloody fistfuls of dollars if that’s what I want. If I plant the seed, watch it spread like creeper vines through their brains, they’ll kill for me. The chaos that erupted in the room was entirely Tallow’s doing. She’d held Naif Malloc’s life in the palm of her hand like a fragile moth; a few words to call him off, a few words to coax Elias up into the anger that exploded from him now. She’d pulled his wings off one by one and watched him writhing. There was a rush of power from it at first, a feeling of pride; Elias Poers, violent, ruthless, soul as black as tar, had the district by the throat and, if she wanted, Tallow could have him by the dick. Hurt him for me, Elias- make him bleed, make him choke. Kill him for me. That’s good, Baby. Oh, so good. Pieces of shit like this needed morphling to get their kicks because they’d never feel the heady intoxication of this; the power, chewing on her lip, watching him scream and knowing that she’d done this. She could make people hurt without ever having to touch them herself.

The rush faded quicker than morphling though as Elias took off his belt and Tallow’s eyes met with Naif’s. Her world was filled up with blood and fists, the noise of the thud of knuckle against soft flesh, painting purple across a pale body. When her father got deep into his rage, she could leap against his arm and he wouldn’t stop punching, not until he was spent and the floor was splattered crimson like scattered rose petals. The sounds were the same, the smell of sweat and fear, the set of his face and all at once Elias and her father became interchangeable. She stepped back, slid up against the wall, wrapped a hand around the curl of pain in her abdomen and rubbed her stomach to ease the ache. Naif’s eyes, imploring, calling out desperately for help could have been Scutcher’s. She wouldn’t look anymore, turning to the side, away from Naif’s outreached hand and his imploring gaze, pressing her cheek instead against the cool wall. It was so warm, a rising flush coursing through her cheeks, but her body shivered.

She wanted it to stop, she wanted it to go on because Naif had touching Scutcher and he needed to learn what happened when people started touching her things. She wanted to be able to look, without a flicker on her face because that’s what it meant to be strong, she wanted to go home and forget about it. She wanted to be able to muster up some feeling for Naif, some need to tear Elias away from his gasping choking body because then at least she’d know that she had a heart. Tallow didn’t know what she wanted, shut her eyes and pictured something beyond this house, beyond the pig shit, and the green and gold oceans of district ten. But the sound of Naif’s gargling breath brought her back to the here and now, growing fainter she imagined, or maybe it could have been true. Tallow didn’t actually know when Elias would stop, if he would ever stop. For all that she could pretend that men were easy; all blood and tissue, meat, cock and ego, it was still easy to get lost in the dark depths of something like Elias Poers. Would something inside of him tire, or tell him to stop…could he stop for that matter?

Maybe she should have said something, but Tallow remained silent, only heard the tightening of the belt and the rasping shuddering breath so similar to a boy swinging from the end of a rope, the life slowly being sucked out of him. He deserves it. He wronged you. If you don’t send a message then there are people waiting everywhere, lurking in the shadows to do it again and again. The world is shit and only violence and tooth and claw can fix it. The wall shook with the dull thud as Elias sent Naif’s head into it and Tallow twisted her head to see if he was still breathing, flooded with relief and disappointment when Naif vomited to show that he was alive before slumping to the floor. He needs help. Someone to soothe his pain, wrap him up in blankets and cover up his shame. That person would not be Tallow.

Elias turned back to her and she fought everything she had not to wince, instead biting down on her lip and giving a soft slow nod of her head. Her approval. Stepping in close, he grabbed roughly at her and she allowed herself to gasp at the pain running through her body, hiding it behind the sounds of approval- because pleasure and pain were so twisted up in with each other, going hand in clawed hand. He tasted bitter with whiskey, metallic with blood, churning up together to form the taste of something not human, forcing his tongue down her throat. She’d gotten so used to Scutcher’s touches, the butterfly flutter of his hands at her side, always following where she lead, never pushing, not at first, not like this that the tugging at her made her tug right back, pushing at him. He buried his head into her neck and she choked again, his body pushed into her abdomen, still carrying the painful muscle memory of his punch.

“Just you f—king wait. Just you f—king wait to what I have to show you Tansy… I’m gonna to give you everything… gonna make you…Gonna make you wish you never had to leave this place…” His breath was hot and reeked of the drink the way that her father’s did and he called her ‘Tansy’ like addressing one of the help. Or one of his toys. Tallow didn’t want him like this, didn’t want him much ever, or at least not enough to choose him over her brother. The sting of the punch spoiled whatever chemical stirring she might have for him and all of his power. He said that he could make her never want to leave, but that’s all that she could think about. Getting out, running away, as fast as she could. Even if she didn’t know what he might do to her if she said no.

Pulling back, sharply from him she tried to keep it light, having seen for herself what a blow to his ego would do to Elias and worse still, to other people, “Uh- uh- uh,” she said softly, a playful tilt to her head, “not like this. Not with him still like this, still here. That’d make me no better than some pale little shit from district six who just rolls over,” she leaned forwards to scrape her nose against his, to briefly take a bite on his lower lip, “You know that I’m better than just a toy. Play all you like with this one, though, I don’t think he’s done yet…” Tallow, moved away from Elias, to the floor where Naif lay and oh so very gently put a hand underneath Naif’s chin. It was the same tender touch she used when Scutcher had been beat up too, and for a minute she thought about squeezing his hand to tell him that it was going to be okay. But that would have been the cruellest thing she’d ever done- bar nothing at all- it wasn’t going to be okay at all.”

“Look at him, Elias,” she told him- though Tallow couldn’t hardly do it herself. But it was her or him right now, there was no way around it- and it was always so much easier to throw someone else to the wolves than it was to volunteer. “He still hasn’t apologised, he still hasn’t said he won’t do it again, has he? He should be kissing your feet, with that pretty mouth. He should adore you the way I do” Tallow swiped a thumb across Naif’s bottom lip, wiping away the blood and the vomit. “You need to make him. And I don’t think just beating will work.” She turned to look at Elias with a smile, her hand hovered slightly, nervously over Naif’s legs before she steeled herself and made a move, to pull apart his bare legs a little. Swooping her head, the kiss she gave him was as soft as it had been on the rooftop, gentle against his lips but with all the poison of any other Judas’ kiss. “Oh Elias, All that power… making him scream again. I want to see you make him more than anything.”

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cyrus
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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 18, 2012 18:37:33 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Sept 18, 2012 18:37:33 GMT -5

Narration
Thoughts
Speaking
Other people’s words
Naughty bits

A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage
You did not think when you sent me to the brink, to the brink
You desired my attention but denied my affections, my affections…

My hands move down to her hips and I grab on tightly. She was mine then, she wanted me more than anything

[/color], because I was powerful[/color] . I was a steel girder, unbendable, unmovable—no, I was bigger than that, I was a freight train, with black smoke trailing in my wake. I was the sun, she the moon, then. All of them in the district were planets and flecks of dust, rotating in their f—king miserable lives around me. Because that was all there was, time to wait and see what men like me would do and to let the rest trickle down. Someday they could drink my piss and call it water, they could shovel my shit and smile as I dropped a few coins into their hands. I got what I earned, and the rest was for them.[/color] And I had earned Tallow Tansy, I had earned—

She pushed me back and my jaw is slack with breath heavy upon her. My fist clenched, sensing some sort of resistance, and my thick hands caught against her hip bone tight. I could break her brittle little body into dust if I really wanted to.[/color] She would be so easily shattered, like the white porcelain that my mother had hung above the fireplace mantle, if I used the brunt of my strength against her. But she knew better than that, to try and fight back against me.[/color] I perked my ears to listen to what she had to say—when we spoke there were never any double truths, no webs that she spun in the air to hide away meaning. Tallow was a good little thing; she shone back the light I cast out, never once had I felt closer to trusting someone than Tallow Tansy. She tutted and eyed the body of the boy behind us, as though we’d forgotten something.

“Uh- uh- uh…” I grinned at her drawl, and leaned in for another kiss, but she kept going. “You know that I’m better than just a toy. Play all you like with this one, though, I don’t think he’s done yet…” I grab her again and pull her a little closer. My hands clench at her skin as I give a grunt, and sweat drips down off of my brow onto her little night dress. I look into her eyes as though they can throw knives into her, if I could just blink she’d be done in by them. You ain’t better than no one, Tansy…[/color] I want to shake her in that moment for suggesting, but I watch as her hair falls into her face, cascading down and curling around her tiny little collarbone. She’s a delicate thing—but she radiated this power that made me want her all the more. “Look at him, Elias…”

I turn to let her go then, slowly releasing the fabric of her dress as I catch a sight of the mess on the floor. A puddle of blood and vomit collects underneath Naif’s mouth on the hardwood floor. He clutches his abdomen, curled up with his knees toward his chest, but he winces when he tries to bring them higher. Flecks of blood collect like rubies around him, flickering as they catch the bits of moonlight from the window. His skin is white as pearls—still beautiful, even with the lashes of brown and blue where my fist and leather has met it. His eyes are narrowed and he croaks out a sound, whispering a murmur before clutching at his stomach again, spasming and crying out again. He rasps out again and I catch the icy blue of his eyes.

He could’ve been perfect.[/color] It wasn’t that it had been so easy… that his life had fallen apart around him, and he had no one but me to take him. The night that I had come to his room, when all was dark and he lay in bed underneath the down covers, he could’ve been strong and resisted me; he could’ve lashed out and tried some way to escape out into the hall. I remembered the silence; I had tasted the fear. It was more consuming than any morphling that he could’ve tried. In the moments where he’d taken in breaths and eyes had gone wide I’d grinned and moved my hands. The first shriek had been all I needed to know that there was nothing else—he didn’t want to leave, but was too afraid to stay. Because we were better together, he and I[/color]. I did it not because of his beauty, not for the beauty of his lips and his little hands, tiny against my own. Not for the softness of his kiss against my neck or the way that he shook during all of it.

It had been that he was already broken.

There were cracks up and down Naif Malloc and I wanted to see all of them. I wanted to know why a boy so beautiful could break apart so easily. And I wanted to be the one that broke him into pieces. [/color] Only I could be the one that smashed him apart, like a child, greedy with his piggy bank, sending shards of his soul everywhere. It drew me to him, to all of them, seeing how far that each of them could be pushed before breaking under my feet. I would drag him through hell and back, I would make him scream and watch him wretch because all it was power, all of it was beautiful. And he would never know, never, how beautiful he was, head against the floor, bile dribbling down his lips and onto the floor. He would never know the joy it brought me—not revulsion, not the idiotic response anyone else without a brain would have—to see that he needed me then, more than ever. And the little thread that spun round and round, the one that was fraying and tied him to this world, that was within my grasp.

“He still hasn’t apologised, he still hasn’t said he won’t do it again, has he? He should be kissing your feet, with that pretty mouth. He should adore you the way I do…” I’m standing over him then, and Tallow is far away. He needed me.[/color] I was all that he had, and what had he done to repay me? He’d gone off and tried to f—k the mongoloid. He would pick the f—king retard over me?[/color] The anger boiled up through my veins and the muscles on my face contracted into a sneer. He deserved every little wallop, every little cut on his skin.[/color] Tallow was right, it was as though she knew better than anyone.[/color] “You need to make him. And I don’t think just beating will work.” Then she grabbed at his legs he let out another yelp, moving his arm down again. She pressed her mouth against him and he shook, whimpering as he looked at Tallow.

“Why?” The word hung there, his lips dripping blood as he stared at Tallow, but I swept past them. I grabbed at the hair atop his head and yanked him up towards my knees. She wanted me to make him scream. I would do more than that…[/color]

“You talking to me? You really want to know why?” My words curdled and my teeth were tight together as I seethed. “You f—king want to know what’s wrong with you f—king around without me? Like you got some choice in the matter? You ain’t nothing, Naif Malloc. You don’t even exist here. You’re a f—king ghost, a shadow, a…” I licked my lips as I twisted his hair. “…nothing. You’re a f—king nothing…” I moved then to pull harder, forcing him to stand, his legs shaky. He let out another yell, his voice hoarse and gurgling. He had no tears left now, just dry red eyes that stared past me at Tallow. “You’re gonna do just what she says… you’re gonna tell her you’re sorry. Ain’t that right?” I moved my arms around his back to steady him and make sure that he could look her in the eyes.

“I’m…” he could barely speak through his broken lip, but he struggled out the words, his whole body shaking. “Sorry…” I grabbed him tighter and leaned in, mouth against his ear.

“I don’t think that was loud enough…” I twisted his arms and he flinched. “And what are you sorry for? Come on… now’s not the time to be shy little naify-kins…”

“S-sorry… s-sorry… scutcher… I…” Blood dripped out of his mouth as he spat out the words, his head hanging then. “It’s my fault… I… please… I didn’t… he just… he and Cyrus… I couldn’t help…” My grip tightened then, and he let out another yell. His body shook as he sobbed, but I wouldn’t let him break down just yet. I shook him, again and again, growling as he kept repeating, I’m sorry… I’m sorry…[/color]

“WHAT ABOUT ME? WHAT ABOUT ME?” I yelled at the top of my lungs, bursting out at the seams. “WHAT ABOUT WHAT YOU DID TO ME? WHAT? I F—CKING GAVE YOU ALL THIS. I F—KING GAVE YOU EVERYTHING, YOU F—K. YOU F—KING…” And the words shake the walls then as I turned him around to face me. He stared at me then, for a moment, eyes wide and breath slowed. "And what are you going to do... you gonna beg forgiveness? You gonna beg... you gonna beg for it... because that's what you want... You WANT IT." I stepped closer to him with a snarl. "TELL ME THAT YOU WANT IT."

“Elias…” his voice is soft and he licks his lips, still red with blood. “Elias I…” He stops. He can’t bring the words to his lips, and swallows as though the bile is being pushed up and outwards once more. But he doesn’t spit down onto my boots. No, he looks down toward the floor before staring back at me. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I… you’re good to me… I’m sorry… please… just let me be this once... please... I don’t… I won’t ever do it again… I do... I want you I... I...”

“Prove it…” I spread my legs apart.

He stares at me, and in another instant I’ve let him drop to his knees. He’s one his hands and in another moment I have the hair on the back of his head. “Prove it…”

There's a rush and a gasp for air. "I want it..." He spits out before there's another gasp. He wanted it. They all did.

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Last Edit: Sept 18, 2012 19:05:16 GMT -5 by cyrus

kneedles

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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 19, 2012 17:59:19 GMT -5

Post by kneedles on Sept 19, 2012 17:59:19 GMT -5

Why? Naif whispered, just as the feel of his lips, his blood was still heavy against hers. He looked at her as though she had all the answers; they always did. Scutcher, Swallow Anne…everyone. I don’t know, Naif. I don’t know why it has to be like this. Why we have to be like this. I don’t know what I want and I don’t know why there’s no one here to save us. Us, she thought- not just him. Because as far as Tallow could tell, she was just as trapped as Naif was. Worse. A thousand times worse. They were both trapped here, but Tallow was trapped inside of her life too. If she shook off Elias there would still be a thousand other cages, a thousand steel bear traps with spikes jutting into her skin. Tallow wanted to take Naif’s hand and press it to her stomach, barely rounded at all- because she was slim and she was tall and her family was starving, at worst right now she looked as though she was bloated from a large meal, but she couldn’t hide it forever- she wanted Naif to feel the butterfly fluttering that reminded her how fucked she really was and whisper, “That’s why.” That would have been the nicest explanation for her actions, surely. A way to qualify tossing Naif to Elias with something so callous and cruel as a tender kiss. The Noreen Lexington method of garnering sympathy. But it wouldn’t have been true.

Perhaps she could reduce it to simpler terms…Because, Naif, if one of us has to be fucked, I will do everything in my power to make sure it aint me.

It sure as shit wouldn’t make her a hero, or even a good person- but it wouldn’t make her a monster either. It made her exactly what she was. Tallow Tansy; fifteen years old, slim as cornstalks, in a whole heap of trouble and completely alone. From the moment she was born to the day that she died. There were no heroes for her, no gods in the machine to deliver her from chaos. Time and time again she gripped onto the ragged precipice of life and crawled her way, bloodied and bruised to safety. Always alone. Or with Scutcher, dragging her down, for a smile and because she believed that he was the only person in the world who would ever really see her and love her. Fuck, it was the biggest, most obvious clue. How could no one else see it? She was weaker and more broken than little Swallow Anne at the community home, dumber than Scutcher, more fucked than Naif Malloc’s bleeding asshole and far crueller than Elias, howling into a jet black night until her lungs were ragged stripes of flesh. And somehow they still keep looking up at her, the way that men turn to look up at the gods they don’t quite believe in during their desperate prayers, muttering, Why?

There are no reasons why.

Elias forced an apology out of Naif and Tallow wore her face like a hollow mask. If she pretended that she was empty, withered and dead inside then it might pass quicker, with less feeling. The apology wasn’t for her really, it was for Scutcher but he’d never ever want one forced out like this. There were no eyes taken for eyes as far as her brother was concerned; it was getting worse now, the need to be around him to stop herself from doing terrible things. Since Naif Malloc. Everything was getting worse since Naif Malloc had arrived. How many months ago was it now? Too many. And the months kept growing, and swelling and changing her. How was he still conscious? Some part of Tallow wished that he could simply pass out, to a place where the pain wouldn’t trouble him and Elias could have his way without much fuss. Some part prayed that he didn’t, because then he’d go after Tallow.

The muffled, wet retches filled the room as Elias stood legs apart. Tallow rose from the floor like growing creeper vines around Elias Poers, splaying a hand across his chest as Naif’s head bobbed below them. The worst part of itall, she thought, skimming her teeth across his collar bone was that for a moment, for as roughly as he grabbed her, for the sounds of choking in the distance and the smell of blood in her nostrils, was that she felt…safe in his grip. Help me, Elias, the brush of her nose on his skin seemed to say. There’s no one else. And when it came down to the dim reality of it, Tallow was right. She loved Scutcher but he could barely tie his own fucking shoelaces. Swallow Anne was her little doll that she was fond of- more fond of than she wanted to say- but when could dolls solve problems? Her parents were fucking washouts barely deserving of a mention. Elias had the money she so desperately needed and the power over his life that she craved for her own. It wasn’t all lies- only most of it- Tallow was as enamoured by Elias Poers as she was repulsed, as deferential as she was terrified.

She wondered for a minute if Elias could count to nine? If she should have gone with him to bed after all. She could grit her teeth and tell herself it was for Scutcher, for herself and the child…but…if she did that she’d be marching herself into a locked room in this house to match Naif Malloc’s. No way, she wouldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t risk her future with Scutcher like that.

So instead, she wondered if Elias expected her to watch this, daren’t leave without his…permission, fuck how she hated the thought of having to ask permission from anyone. She wouldn’t watch Naif choke, leaking tears down his face that a tender hand would have thumbed away, her arms curling around Elias’ chest, stroking at the place where she felt the beat of his heart the strongest, burying her head into the indentation of his spine. Lips on warm skin, against the thick layer of his sweat, Tallow felt his body move back and forth, clenched her eyes tight.

Help me Elias, help me someone. Oh fuck, please.

No one would of course, she was alone now- she was always alone. Perhaps now she was more alone than ever.

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cyrus
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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 20, 2012 0:43:14 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Sept 20, 2012 0:43:14 GMT -5

Narration
Thoughts
Speaking
Other people’s words
Naughty bits

I closed my eyes as my hands grasped onto Naif’s hair. I imagined riding along with one of the black steeds, bucking harder and harder, hands on the reins, barely in control as we raced along at break neck speed. I always pressed forward, faster and harder

[/color]. A tingle rose from the bottom of my back upward as we raced along, the two of us first fighting one another as my body bounced but then found a unison—forward and backward, together as one. It only required a steady hand, a man that was willing to take control.[/color] Anyone could be broken. There was only so much a soul could take before it folded, and one just had to know the right way to break an animal apart. That’s all they were in this district, anyway. Just like the fucking livestock that roamed the streets and slept in barns.[/color] They were no better, and sometimes, easier to pick apart.

When her hands wrap around me I let out a hiss. Her head presses against my back and I move to grasp a hand at her, settling on the hand that’s snaked across my chest. Both of them then, broken in and tamed.[/color] In the darkness we were three becoming one, a morphed beast worse than anything the capitol could create that collected along the floor in blood, sweat, spunk, and tears. Naif lets out another cough and I smirk. All of them had the desperate belief, f—kers like Naif, that there would be someone to save them from all this. As if the world was like a storybook, with white knights waiting in the wings to scoop people up and take them away. all needed to learn the truth about the world, one way or another.[/color]

I could feel the electricity grow inside of me as Tallow pressed tighter and Naif struggled to contain himself. In another few moments my body tensed, and I grasped at him with all my might. I looked down at him, shadows casting across my face, grinning down. This is all you have, Naif.[/color] I sighed, hand hard atop Tallows. I grasp it then, tightening my hold as the finish erupts. This is all you’ll ever have and you’re mine, and you will be until I say you’re not.[/color] At my release he was down again, coughing and retching once more. His body shook another few moments as he struggled to support on his arms before collapsing at last on the hardwood floor. He closed his eyes and lay, mouth dribbling, breath slow but heavy.

I slid my hand along Tallow’s playing with her small wrist before twining my fingers along hers. I moved her hand to my lips and slowly my lips found her palm. I could taste the roughness then, my lips slowly pressed against her. How remarkable she is[/color], I blinked, eyes heavy, for as horrible a witch and the f—king trash she is, to still be brilliant[/color]. And I moved then to take her other hand and bring them both up to my mouth for another kiss. She would make a fine addition to everything—something I’d always seen but never pursued[/color]—if she knew what was good for her. Because even for all her beauty, for all that she’d helped me accomplish that night, I would not forgive a refusal.

“Tallow…” I pulled her closer to me, using my strength more than I needed because I would f—king show her[/color] what it meant to be powerful. I grinned from ear to ear as I knelt down some and rested my cheek against hers so that my hot, sticky breath would flood her ear. It was just the two of us then—she always had a way of making it seem that there was no one else in the room—and I twisted her hands with my own. I licked my lips and let fly the words that few would ever hear from me. “Thank you…”

“You’re just about the only one in the district that would understand…” My voice is a whisper. “Lot of folks that might have… felt it was their business… but you’re smart Tallow… real smart… you got a head on your shoulders… always makin’ good choices…” I slide my hands along her arms and move them around to her back. “Ain’t an easy thing to do here when so many are ready to… throw you to the dogs… but you know what’s good for you… always have…” I stood back then to move my hand along to her face. I’d have been mistaken not to see the little lines from hard work already beginning to show at fifteen. Still beautiful, though. Still fresh. Still young. [/color]

“Think he’s had enough for tonight. Sorry f—k should last until mornin’… been thinkin’ though…” I tucked myself away. “Need something new… that’ll keep me occupied… he ain’t gonna last too much longer if he keeps f—kin’ around… sides, now I gotta fix him up…” I looked from Naif to Tallow. “Gonna need something that lasts longer… something that… keeps…” The gentleness of my touch—the tender hand against hers—tightens and presses like a snare, ready to trap her lest she want to wrench her hand in two. “Cause I’m tired of the types that fall apart easy…”

I let out a yawn and close my eyes, my mouth wide to expose a flash of gold capped teeth. “Going upstairs to bed now,” I say as I take a step forward. “Got to sleep off all the… work… ‘cause I’ve got to be ready for the morning…” I give a grin as I eye her up and down. It’s what you want. It’s what you’re going to get. You deserve it…[/color] “Then we can have a big breakfast like I bet you never seen…”
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kneedles

guest

S l i d e {Luke} Sept 20, 2012 18:07:42 GMT -5

Post by kneedles on Sept 20, 2012 18:07:42 GMT -5

She didn’t believe in heaven, only the empty howling void of death, so there couldn’t be a hell. Couldn’t have one without the other, Tallow tried to reassure herself; but as Elias bucks and Naif gulps, she believes in its eternal torment – this one moment being replayed over and over like a scratched record getting stuck; Elias’ hissing, the wet throb of Nai’fs throat and Tallow’s own breath, hitching in her throat. Over and over, now and until forever. Unless- she felt Elias shudder his release, press his lips to her hand-hell was empty and all the demons were here. Penned inside the fences of district ten. “Tallow,” Elias’ eyes were a howling void and she forgot all about hell. She stared out into the darkness and the darkness stared straight back, a gaze to burn holes right through her tar black soul. “Thank you.” Tallow could only imagine what he was thanking her for; for stoking up his ego and his fire, for callously kissing off a young boy and delivering him up to Elias like a blood sacrifice to vengeful gods. She didn’t want his thanks; it stung like poison.

“You’re just about the only one in the district that would understand…” It’s true and for a minute Tallow hated herself for it. “Lot of folks that might have… felt it was their business… but you’re smart Tallow… real smart… you got a head on your shoulders… always makin’ good choices…” She’d always been the smart one in the family, sharp they called her at school on account of the way that she could sting. But smart choices weren’t always the right choices and she sometimes wished that there’d been a more even trade- Scutcher could have been smarter, Tallow could have been kinder. But that was the problem when you were one person split down the middle and ripped into two. His hand moved across her face and she turned slightly, to press her lips against his wrist. She wanted to go home and hold her brother tight, thank god that she had him for her heart, for breath because they shouldn’t ever be parted. People bled, screamed and cried simply for the threat of it. She wanted to peel off this night gown and the scent of Elias’ skin, she would peel off her own skin if she had to.

But what she wanted was immaterial to Elias Poers, when he was so blinded by his own, swollen, corpulent ego. And now you’ve made him want you, you fucking idiot. The same way he wanted Naif Malloc, came a twisting rasp in the corner of her mind, twirling around her like bindweed and thorn bushes. “Gonna need something that lasts longer… something that… keeps…”If the tight grasp of his hand wasn’t enough to make Tallow shudder, it was all the implications of this. “Cause I’m tired of the types that fall apart easy…” Someone to batter, someone to bruise but who he could guarantee wouldn’t fall apart like a sackcloth doll. There wasn’t a more perfect person for the job than Tallow Tansy, they both knew that. She could fix it, though, Tallow was sure that she could. She wasn’t trapped, there was always a way out; it was like Elias said- she was smart, had a good head on her shoulders and made good choices…she was Tallow Tansy, and that always used to mean something.

Like how you’re fixin’ the little baby situation? Good job ,Tallow. Real smart.

He yawned and Tallow saw her escape, the light ever so distantly in the background. She wasn’t finished yet, not by a long way. Okay, so Elias had her brother in his pocket and now wanted Tallow like some kind of play thing, so she’d truly seen him tonight for the monster that he was- she could still get out of here more or less intact (but for the lingering pain in her stomach) and have a little time to think. She’d come up with a plan. She usually had a plan- and it usually worked. I win, I always win, Tallow reminded herself.

Hands threading through his hair, the way that she did with Scutcher’s curls, Tallow let out a soft tutting noise. “You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” she whispered, a light tilt to her voice, something mothering in it. She stroked his thick hair, inky in the gloom of the sitting room before cradling him close. “I know what you need, baby.”

Ducking down quickly, as though to pick something up, Tallow rose up again and slid a hand along Elias’ neck, leaning to kiss him. Naif Malloc though, would have felt a little glass vial and a needle pressed into his palm. Their hands clasped again and she tugged at Elias a little, remembering the way to the bedroom fairly easily. It was a year ago that she went like this to Elias’ bed for the first time. Time passed too slowly, Tallow thought. Twelve months could feel like twelve centuries, sands of time grinding steady and creeping on her bones until she was nothing. Everything had changed since Noreen Lexington had been reaped, since Naif Malloc had wandered into her lives. Beneath her nightdress, she can feel her stomach starting to grow day by day but Tallow is disappearing; a soft jelly of a girl, straight lipped and pale-eyed slowly slipping away. She didn’t speak a word to Elias on the walk to the bedroom. Figured he’d appreciate that; he was tired, she was silent and pretty, looking around to chew on her lip every so often. And why should she speak? There was nothing to say.

Shucking off the parka, so that her shoulders were bare but for the thin straps of her night gown, she slid into bed first. Not under the covers though, that would be too much like trapping herself. Reaching out for him with her arms, she pressed him into another kiss. She lay down and Tallow tried to slot into his body as easily as she did with Scutcher, but the puzzle pieces didn’t seem to fit. All the same, she continued to stroke his hair and pressed her cheek against his chest cuddling him close. “You’re good to me, Elias,” she whispered like a sigh. “Naif just doesn’t understand how generous you are. How you been keeping him safe. You wouldn’t let nothing bad happen to me, would you? You’re so strong and so big, you wouldn’t let no one else lay a finger on me, would you? Not now I’m yours,” She took his hand and wrapped it around her own, so she could make him grip her breasts, “This is yours” she manipulated his hands over the glass vial flare of her waist (keeping him away from her stomach; it was only slightly rounded, but it was hard- not like lingering layers of bloating should be) “And this” brought his fingers up to her plump lips.

“I can’t stay here. I got school tomorrow and my Daddy won’t like it if I do. Not til morning,” she mumbled. “You seen what he does to Scutcher. He’ll mess up my face- mess it up real bad- and it’s your face. It’s all for you. You won’t let someone do that to something that’s yours. You’re so good to me Elias.”

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cyrus
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S l i d e {Luke} Sept 23, 2012 20:15:09 GMT -5

Post by cyrus on Sept 23, 2012 20:15:09 GMT -5

Narration
Thoughts
Speaking
Other people’s words
Naughty bits

What did we look like in the early hours of the morning? Naif Malloc, curled up into a little ball, ~~bleeding from both ends~~, dribbled in bile and blood, in mucus and mess, he was my cherub statue shattered into a million pieces

[/color]. His slow rasps for air didn’t worry me. If he dies to night, the world would be better off without him.[/color] For as much as I wanted to have my little toy, now, out of the mist, another was appearing, twisted and conjured up for my amusement. What use would I have for someone like Naif that couldn’t be trusted? His dalliance with scutcher revealed enough, but what would sink in long after the evening was the tar he had injected into himself. Which really shows what kind of idiot he is.[/color] I imagined that I’d cut the cord soon enough—what good was a damaged ~~f—kpiece~~ if he couldn’t be used, anyway?

Tallow’s hand brushes through my hair and I close my eyes. Out of the black, like the dust storms that kicked up dirt and spiraled around in the summer heat formed—a witch, a beauty, a new prize[/color]— one that sent a shiver up my spine. I hissed out my teeth and grinned, relaxing as her little fingers pressed through the mop of sweat atop my head. Her touch was fresh, better. There was no hand shaking, there wasn’t a forced need from her. This was real, this was desire. She wanted me. She sees what I can do.[/color] I opened my eyes then as I tilted forward, legs uneasy as my frame towered overhead. It’d not been like this for some time, then, this feeling of mutual want and desire.

Each time taking Naif had been a fight, a twist of bodies and howls, of two shadows morphing into one until finally the deed was finished and bodies separated again. His resistance was fuel, it gave me life more than anything had—not since I’d brought hands against Wren. It made my fingers ache as I twisted them around his dainty wrists to hold him down. He’d let out a whimper and look up at me, he’d take in who was his master[/color], and then he’d offer a kiss, one that I would swallow up. I’d take it in, as though his very soul could slip up and out of him, into me, to give me power—because I’d live forever.[/color] In the trailer at the fair he’d cried out, face buried in the cushion, sweat dripping down his back and muscles twitching underneath me. But what was this… electricity Tallow brought that Naif did not?

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” I nod my head. Any day spent drinking, f—king, and beating up those that deserved it drained me. I lilted side to side and ran a hand over my face in an effort to make sure I didn’t slump down on top of her there and then. Never too worn out though, at least, not in recent experience. Our bodies pressed together again, and I moved to bring a hand around her waist. I’d like to fill her up.[/color] In my drunkenness I grin. I’d like to see how much she can take.[/color] And just was I’m about to slur a few sweet nothings to her, she leans in close. “I know what you need, baby.”

Do you?[/color]

If she could crack open my skull and see it then, would she have known? Of the images on her haunches, much like Naif, crying out and clawing out at the walls? Of me making sure it was unlike anything else she’d ever have—or would have—in her miserable little life? There would be no end or beginning, not to this circle she was inviting, of perpetual agony and ecstasy. If she were strong enough.[/color] Because it would be the two of us together, swallowed up in darkness as we twitched underneath the sheets. No salvation here, Tallow Tansy, just a place to find out what you can really take. Because I need to see you break.[/color]

We moved silently up the stairs, with only the creak of the wood to give us away. I turned to catch one last look at Naif before turning up to face Tallow. There was no need to say where we were going when we’d been down that path before. I could trace it back—was it nearly a year now? It would have been a time when Naif had just been ripped from his brother and the seeds were planted; when Noreen Lexington was traveling by train and all of district 10 had been weeping. Save for the two that had found comfort… the two that had been giddy with life and knew better.

“You’re good to me, Elias,” She said as I slide over the bedspread next to her. Our bodies slid together close, and I let out a sigh. It was right, more natural the two of us wrapped up as one. I could be good for you, Tallow…[/color] I thought as I brushed back a few strands of her hair. Could clean the shit off and make you into something special.[/color] I’d put her on a little pedestal higher than any of the other sorry s—ts in District 10 could ever reach. With rosy red cheeks and behind a thin pane of glass, she’d sit there and wait for me, for when I wanted her. For when I needed someone, someone that wanted me as much as I wanted them. “Naif just doesn’t understand how generous you are. How you been keeping him safe. You wouldn’t let nothing bad happen to me, would you? You’re so strong and so big, you wouldn’t let no one else lay a finger on me, would you? Not now I’m yours…”

“Mine…” I said with her as she moved my hands to her breasts. They were soft and big enough, coming in real nice for a girl her age.[/color] I was lost with them, playing, moving closer as she stared back. She was a little doll then, a little toy in my grasp. I could play and tug and do all that I wanted before I put her back into her box and left her there, until next time. She moved her hands along her waist and to her lips and I grinned. “You ain’t got to worry about no one… wouldn’t ever let nothin’ happen to you… my precious little thing…”

“I can’t stay here. I got school tomorrow and my Daddy won’t like it if I do. Not til morning,” I nod my head, still lost in my playtime. Had to go to school. Still had her daddy… [/color] “You seen what he does to Scutcher. He’ll mess up my face- mess it up real bad- and it’s your face. It’s all for you. You won’t let someone do that to something that’s yours. You’re so good to me Elias.”
I blink a few times and look up at her. I move my hands to her face and shake my head. “I’d kill him dead before I let him do that to one of my things…” And it’s true. Loomis could be done in with a flick of my wrist—not like anyone would miss that sorry sack of s—t anyway. If she said the word, I would do it. But I could see then that she would have to go, lest I get too many questions about how I was spending my evenings, takin’ in the Tansy girl and the cries from little Naif. “But you be a good little girl until I come to call on you again… you know that I… got my eye on you, Tallow Tansy.”

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kneedles

guest

S l i d e {Luke} Sept 26, 2012 6:21:48 GMT -5

Post by kneedles on Sept 26, 2012 6:21:48 GMT -5

She felt the imaginary tangle of ropes loosen on her body as an ethereal hand slipped away from its tight grip around her throat- Elias was letting her go. Nodding, she smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead. It wasn’t so bad, not now, not with him in the sheets doing what he was told- though he didn’t know it, until his eyes locked on hers “I got my eye on you, Tallow Tansy,” he told her softy. Smiling because she was screaming inside, Tallow nodded and her hand balled into a tight fist, turning her knuckles alabaster. It wouldn’t take much; Tallow realised, to wait in the hallway until she was sure that he was asleep, leap onto his prone form with a kitchen knife and carve out his eye.

You got your eye on me, yeah? She would hiss, hand over his mouth, watching him wriggle and grow still as she pressed the knife to his throat. She’d grasp his beady brown his eye, nerves and arteries trailing down her arm like thick strands of hair, hands caked in blood- sweet and dark as blackberry jam. Now I got your eye. Tallow could smother him, she could carve out his throat with her teeth but she only kissed his forehead, lips brushing against the sheen of sweat pooling beneath his hairline. The sheets were soft under her fingers, even if she was fighting to keep them from trembling. You could fit most of the Tansy shack into this one room; her eyes took in his real bed with twisting balustrade around it, wooden headboard, and the supple mattress. Goose feather pillows- she could smell them beneath his head, framing his face.

Would it be worth it? Spreading out on goose feather pillows, tangled between soft cotton sheets with silk against her skin. There’d be real makeup, the clothes he bought for her, pearls, crystal and wine, she’d wear red nail polish and walk as though trapped in a haze of thick, floral perfumes like a cage- keeping the shit from district ten out, keeping her penned in, for always and forever. Looking down as she stooped to pick up Scutcher’s parker, Tallow noticed that there was blood skimmed against Elias’ knuckles; she could just about make it out in the thin light of the dawn, printed on his hands like the lipstick stained kisses she could give him. There would also be real fear, as whatever she’d been before Elias Poers was tossed aside, there would be blood deep and rich as red nail polish, and nothing but the cage he built up around her. Could she take another night like this? Another night of screaming, bleeding, blind rage and the heavy stench of semen. Almost definitley. But what would having to endure it again and again do to her? Tallow couldn’t say and that was the part which frightened her the most.

One thing kept her firm though. To trade in Scutcher for Elias would be to trade in her soul for a fistful of dollars and take up a place lying in the devil’s arms. Never. “We both know you don’t want a good little girl,” her laughter was a haze of perfume smoke wrapped tight around throats, pulling on the parker and slipping out of the door. Out of sight of Elias.

I hate you, I hate you. Her stomach clenched tight, and the exhale of shaking breath from her throat could have been a choking sob, had she not shoved a fist into her mouth, biting down with her sharp little teeth, hard enough that she could taste the light metallic tang of blood on her tongue. She’d done good tonight. Tallow Tansy with a mind like a diamond, sparkling, sharpened to a point and rock hard. She knew what the boys liked, gave them butterflies, charming like Venus in the half shell, springing forth fully made- nothing inside but cold sea foam. One hundred strokes of a hairbrush before bed, homemade blood red lipstick, fifteen years old and fresh as cut grass but dying. Soul crumbling into dust, heart grey and twisted as petrified tree branches. I hate you, screaming in the beat of her heart, threading through each vein and the hate was a fire and the fire burned. It fed on itself, growing, engorging and always hungry, smouldering through her system with a scorched earth policy- nothing left inside but falling ash as delicate and pale as snowfall. She meant the hate for Elias, for Naif Malloc because of what he’d done to Scutcher and- she couldn’t fight the fire on this- for Scutcher for what he’d done to her. She hated her mother, her father for having no fucking sense at all and bringing a girl like her into the world. She hated the world for making her have to live like this, hated the child inside of her for being the butterfly flutter, the swimming sickness, the ever present reminder of her mistakes. There was never enough room in her body for love, but the hate it seemed could be infinite.

There was blood on the air, twisting and churning like the guts slumping to the floor in an abattoir. She needed to get out of this house, would sink her fingers into drywall and claw through wooden slats if that’s what it took. Not through the front door though, Tallow couldn’t. An artist stepped back from the portrait to admire what they had done, noting their intricate twirls of blood, spackled brush painting bruises up Naif Malloc’s thighs but there was nothing beautiful about tonight. Pretty house with intricate whorls in the wooden porch, swirling patterns in the door , pretty boy with feathery pale hair catching the moonlight, pretty girl with icy blue eyes; ugly ugly ugly. Tallow Tansy was Frankenstein, hiding away from the abomination that she had created. Knowing that she was both the monster and the maker. Hovering a hand over the slight protuberance of her stomach, she knew that it spoke volumes about the life inside of her. If she looked at Naif, Tallow would have to own up to what she’d done to him and Tallow just couldn’t.

So Tallow ran. Through the back door and onto the fields of the Poer’s ranch, following the north star and praying that it wouldn’t lead her wrong. They’d called it the Fire Star, she heard once, nestled on either side of two constellations; the revolving male, outline tall and proud in the stars and the revolving female with her secrets and her twisting curves. The old mythology called them a couple, joined together to birth the entire sky. What a burden that must have been for her, the revolving female with a galaxy in her hair, her face and her spirit nothing but bright lights. Tallow ran until she couldn’t run anymore, legs tiring, lungs gasping out for air until she fell to her knees. She was in a field, of course she was in a fucking field. That’s all they had, fields and shit- the flatness, the emptiness from now until the day they died. Tallow could have loved Elias for his danger, he was deliverance from the endless oceans of green and gold and shit- but dangerous men were for novels squirreled away by adolescent girls to giggle over. There was no romance in the smell of blood and the bite of his fist, not in the reality of it.

Burying her fists into the dirt, hunching over and shutting her eyes tight enough to blot out the world, she allowed herself two sobs. Just two, so she made them good ones; aching and desperate from within the core of herself. They burst from her like little deaths before being swallowed up by the sky.

And then Tallow wiped the dirt from her knees, the tears from her eyes and the humanity from her face, starting up again in the direction of home.