Something Next to Normal [Onyx]

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Tori
Retired Staff

1,071 POSTS
last seen May 7, 2013 21:56:19 GMT -5

Pigfarts, Pigfarts, yum, yum, yum.

Something Next to Normal [Onyx] Jul 10, 2012 7:35:09 GMT -5

Post by Tori on Jul 10, 2012 7:35:09 GMT -5

Xavier Thompson
^THE MASOCHIST
district five

The following contains a trigger warning.

The smog seemed extra thick today in District Five, if that was even possible. The darkness in the sky made it feel like it was six o'clock when it was really only fifteen minutes past noon. Xavier pulled the strapped on his black backpack tighter as he walked from the town square into the smaller, less expensive shopping area. His jeans hung loosely around his legs as he walked toward one of the benches to take a seat. They were ripped at knees and anyone who knew him knew that they were the only pair he owned. The bench was hard and uneven against his back, but he ignored it and looked around.

Maybe it really is time for a new pair. He poked his fingers through the holes and brushed them against the scabs on his right knee. They were fresh and still healing from his incident with the stairs this morning. Ian, a man he worked with, had bet that Xavier could slide down the rails of the stairs on he op of a garbage can lid. Of course Xavier took the bet, but the evidence of his empty pockets and scratched knees proved that he did not win it. He had also scratched his chest in he fall, but the scratched were covered by the light blue v-neck that he was wearing. A slight wind whistled through the district and Xavier tighted the red bandanna around his head to make sure his hair stayed in place. The brunette flung his backpack off his shoulder and to the side of him. He opened the front pocket and reached in.

When his hand reemerged from the pocket it was spotted in red. The new blood was wet and sticky and did not go along with the remaining traces of oil on his hands. He wiped his hands on his pants and placed the cause of the blood on top of his jeans until he was ready to use it: a razor. His razor. It had cut into his hand because he had grabbed it too quickly but it didn't matter much. He picked it back up and twirled it through his fingers. Occasionally it nicked one and some new blood appeared. Where?

That was the question: where to use it? Xavier's wrist was too sore because that had been where he overly used it this week. Scars lined his wrists, some of them new. He gripped he razor in his right hand and lifted his shirt with his right. Without a real thought, he pressed the razor to his skin on his side and dragged it across. The blade stung a little more than he had expected and a line of red followed behind the path of the razor. He lifted it slowly and let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had cut a little farther than he had planned, but that was okay.

Xavier smiled to himself and threw the blade back into the front pocket where he had originally found it. His shirt fell back down around his body and a little bit of blood began to stain his shirt on his right side directly where he had just cut. Oh well. A lot of shirts had been ruined from his insane hobby. For a moment, Xavier felt alone. He wondered if there was anyone like him that found joy in pain. A few names came to mind that lived with him at Veronica's place, but no one the that enjoyed their own pain in just the way that he did. He knew something was wrong with him, but it wasn't something he was ever going to change. His right hand gripped the zipper on his bag and zipped the front pocket closed.

This area of the district was still as quiet as it had been when he first arrived. People walked by him silently, but no one approached him or called out. It meant that no one had seen. In a way, Xavier was a bit disappointed. There would be no humiliation today. He wound his arm through the strap on his backpack and threw it back onto his shoulder. His oil refinery uniform was heavier than he remembered it being just a few minutes ago. The boy's left hand found he right side of his shirt damp with blood from his cut. It was bleeding more than he had intended it to now. It hurt a little when he pressed on it; so he pressed on it harder, almost bringing tears to his eyes. A small snicker left his throat as he removed his hand. God, I'm fucked up.

ooc: Sorry that it's not very good, I'm still working on development since he is new.

Last Edit: Jul 10, 2012 8:10:05 GMT -5 by Tori

My characters can be found here. PM me to roleplay.

Onyx
Capitol Resident

1,169 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jan 3, 2023 15:20:14 GMT -5

in between somewhere and nowhere

Something Next to Normal [Onyx] Jul 13, 2012 9:24:17 GMT -5

Post by Onyx on Jul 13, 2012 9:24:17 GMT -5

She walks | She yearns | She talks | She learns | She burns

I have been locked out the house again. This is a prank that occurs on almost a weekly basis in the House, let's get Bella angry, because that's so funny. And they laugh at me, ugly little faces pressed up against the grime-stained windows of the sitting room and kitchen, slats of splintering timber complaining from the weight of all the tiny little bodies pressed together inside. This is the only time they all unite. Against me. The worst part is that there's nothing I can do. I hurl meaningless threats like pebbles at them, hoping to shatter the windows, to make an impression on them. I tell them how I will burn them, in the middle of the hall while they scream as the flames bite into their undernourished flesh and they collapse into their own stinking ashes. But still, I have nothing to carry out these threats with. Flint is abundant in the town, and if I try hard enough I can make a spark there, but Veronica checks my pockets before I come in the house – if I can get in – and she ransacked my room for anything I might keep up there.

The dark sky makes it difficult to see exactly who my rage is directed to, but the condensation on the panes of glass lets me know someone is there. Someone who won't let me in, no one will let me in. Every second I stand here, hammering on the door with my cracking knuckles and burn-drenched shoulders, the humiliation increases. I should set the whole place alight, I think as I often do when I am trapped like this. Trapped outside with everywhere else to go? It's pathetic, and ironic, but it's true. My room is the only place where I feel safe. Trapped in my attic, the only place where I am not trapped. My cheeks begin to burn, but not a warm and pleasurable burning, the hideous fire of embarrassment. I turn and sprint away, towards the District Square.

I wrap my arms around my waist, but it doesn't help to diffuse the sudden wave of self-consciousness that has passed over me. I feel naked without my matches, my power. I need to set anything alight. Perhaps I can find something to do in among the other people who I loathe so much. Few of them recognise me now, I have changed since I was the happy little girl they knew, but still I prefer to stay away. I come to town just to wreak havoc.

It seems my prayer for some distraction has been answered in the form of Xavier Thompson, one of the creeps from the House that I never indulge in conversation with. I don't know a lot about him, but from just one glance at his weedy, long-haired form I can assume on a plethora of delightful traits. The freshly blooming poppy of scarlet blood erupting on his shirt could have been planted by no one but him, and how he pushes on the wound, wincing but laughing, shows me he enjoys it. He would take fire as willingly as I do, and we could dance in the joy together. I approach him silently, and he appears to still be in a pain-fuelled daze as I glance around me for a little piece of flint.

"Hello Xavier," I murmur, but his agony-induced haze falls like a bubble around him and he doesn't look up. I take a step closer to him and try again, "Xavier, damnit, look at me." Another fiery rage begins to boil inside me, but soon I will let it out in flame, soon I will be able to satisfy this craving for burning that has hollowed me out through all the tricks and pranks, the humiliation and anger I feel.

Xavier Thompson will burn with me in my Hell for everyone else's sins.

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ooc: Ok this was so weird to write because I am so rusty writing Isabella, but please don't hurt me because it was the best I could do xD I have some really really weird images of what might happen between these two. Really weird.
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Last Edit: Jul 13, 2012 9:25:51 GMT -5 by Onyx

someday we'll be drinking with the seldom seen kid