Paint Us {black and blue} - morbidargos

rook
Veteran Member

2,361 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen Sept 26, 2023 15:42:53 GMT -5

who needs another thing to be sad about?

Paint Us {black and blue} - morbidargos Oct 28, 2012 12:24:41 GMT -5

Quote

Post by rook on Oct 28, 2012 12:24:41 GMT -5

we VILLAINS are a very select group indeed.
in the very desperation of our HATE

[/font] rests our strength.[/size][/color][/center]

the sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
the thunder of the drums dictates
the rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths
the rising of the horns ahead

[/i][/right]

The Winters boy is not as his name suggests. He is not cold nor hardy. He can't withstand the wrath of the inevitable. He lies without a leg, bloody and beaten already. Fight me, coward. Kiera is not here to stop my growing wrath, my thirst for blood. I love it, I crave it. Damion is an imperfection, and he, like other who have fallen, must be cleansed. Accept your fate, boy. Accept that you never had a chance at winning. At surviving.

Peridot attacks again, not doing nearly as much damage as he should do with that heavy glaive that he claims to be a master of. He doesn't deserve it, no more than Aria deserves Kiera's tribute-slaying sword. I am the only worthy one here, I am the only one with the strength and power to kill. Call themselves Careers. Pfft. I am more of a Career than Peridot Myler could ever dream to be, and I'm from a backwater district with nothing but a hammer and an anvil to my name.

Ooh, my blood boils. The rage, the fury, the lust to kill. I can't control it, I can only channel it. For Kiera, I direct it away from Peridot, but he'll get his end soon enough, and it will be by my hand. I twitch with anticipation, looking forward to hearing Myler squeal as I cut his throat and watch him bleed in the dirt. I thought him pure once, a Career. When he and Kiera invited me into their little group, I felt honored, blessed to be consider worthy... But they're all false. They are not Gods. They are not pure nor perfect as I imagined. Myler is flawed, he will die just as the Winters boy will.

But for now, I focus on the task in hand - Killing Damion Winters. I'm not sorry, it's a necessity. He has to die so that I can win.

[Wednesdae attacks DAMION, Broadsword]

[dice=200+1000]

[Deep Gash on Left Bicep -- 8.0 damage]
[Blades -- 9.0]

from the dawn of time to the end of days
i will have to run away
i want to feel the pain and the bitter taste
of the blood on my lips again

[/i][/right]

[/size][/color][/blockquote]

notes: --

theme:[/color] "Iron" - Woodkid[/color][/size][rand=181474266108125455178988594561815832185647683218105321544292382896]

Last Edit: Oct 30, 2012 13:08:29 GMT -5 by rook

an hourglass is just a glass with sand inside

SinInChaos
Merchant

195 POSTS
last seen Dec 29, 2012 23:10:22 GMT -5

Like a sir, bitch!

Paint Us {black and blue} - morbidargos Oct 28, 2012 12:40:57 GMT -5

Quote

Post by SinInChaos on Oct 28, 2012 12:40:57 GMT -5

I once knew my enemy
Felt her in my arms long ago
But now, where did she go?

[/color][/size][/font]

Who am I today, who will I be tomorrow?

[/color][/size][/font]

More WIP stuff, cause this just has to end already. Put a post here once all is said and done. Woooo, here we go!

[Lashes out at Aria]
[dice=200+3000]
[Shallow Cut on Left Forearm - 3.5]

[/blockquote][/justify][/size][rand=32297187358192914693335895024755184943583075091570981787586774453]

Last Edit: Oct 28, 2012 12:41:59 GMT -5 by SinInChaos

Credit to Charity

✨ zozo.
Retired Staff

8,205 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 9, 2024 21:06:54 GMT -5

bloomtodeath

Paint Us {black and blue} - morbidargos Oct 28, 2012 13:13:24 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Oct 28, 2012 13:13:24 GMT -5

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold
In the sunlight

[/i][/center]

There is a feel of desperation that runs through you when your body starts to collapse. You don't think about what's happening as blood oozes out of your skin like it's on fire, or the scars it may leave. You don't think about your surroundings, your friends, what the weather is like or the colour of the sky. All you can think about is the pain pain pain and I'm going to die I'm going to die.

But you also think of the silliest, tiniest things. Like how there's probably going to be a scar that lines the width of my forehead once it heals. How grass feels under my toes and the taste of fresh bread in my mouth. But I'm still loosing this battle. And then the desperation turns to anger, a fierce storm conjured up inside of my punctured chest with all the force of a thousand soldiers before me that walked across these floors.

Off with his head.

He falls, releasing me from his prison. The shock that befalls on me and turns me as still as the stone statues from days ago causes my brain to forget that I need to breathe. Forget that I need to blink. Forget about the pain pain pain pain that thumps through my body and the red red red red that turns my toga scarlet and drains the boy with the spear dry. I never wanted to kill, but when you're faced with an anger so petrifying it turns your blood cold as it pours from your chest, an anger so frightening you're forced to fight back or it'll be me attending the funeral and never leaving the graveyard.

I felt the blade slice through his head. Not all the way, though - not like his friend. I saw the blood spray across the ground and heard the squelch of organs and muscle under my hand and felt it kill him. He calls me Miss Hero (I'm no hero, no Kiera Dempsey, no Nymeria, just a lost little girl.) Another spray of blood - this time coated with spit - rockets onto my face, the metallic smell infesting my nostrils and filling my head with sour thoughts of guilt and death. I am no hero, stupid boy. No brave soldier, no fearless knight. I just want to go home.

I am still motionless as he heaves out his last words. Like I'm stuck in time, forced into watching the light fade from his eyes in a split second. I've killed instead of being killed, offered Death a different soul to keep mine intact for another day - and now I must pay the price. "Let me just say... that it's not ok..."

The cannon fires, and my body erupts into a shaking, heaving mess.

What did I say to the God of Death when he asked for a sacrifice?

Today.

Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl
Frozen in the headlights
It seems I've made the final sacrifice
We raise it up, this offering
We raise it up

[/i]

[attacks damion - xiphos]
[dice=200+1000]
[Shallow Cut on Back of Head -- 4.5 damage]

ooc;
{aria takes 2x edible plants, 2x medical plants and uses one for -1 damage}
{aria uses 10ft bandages and one needle and thread for -9 damage with first aid, bringing her total damage down to 12}

[/center]

[/justify][/blockquote][/size][/blockquote][rand=17186837340705097087562014348804958695136755704881454958845861256]

Last Edit: Oct 31, 2012 2:52:04 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

SinInChaos
Merchant

195 POSTS
last seen Dec 29, 2012 23:10:22 GMT -5

Like a sir, bitch!

Paint Us {black and blue} - morbidargos Oct 28, 2012 14:24:54 GMT -5

Quote

Post by SinInChaos on Oct 28, 2012 14:24:54 GMT -5

I once knew my enemy
Felt her in my arms long ago
But now, where did she go?

[/color][/size][/font]

Who am I today, who will I be tomorrow?

[/color][/size][/font]

I'm in heaven. A blissful state of nonexistence as I can feel the sore rush through my body. I've never felt sore, or pain, nothing for a long time and now it has come to me. The end of suffering would slow be on its way now. The ghosts would go away and the world would fade to gray. Chains would be unbound and soon I could fly, into some strange paradise meant for a boy like myself. And boy would it be enough for me to just be dead. It was finally something I could look forward to. Who needed victory, glitz, and glory? I could finally stop the thoughts of Remie. Finally end the misery of Phyllis. Finally cease the pain of Riker. This was all I could do in the arena, and I was happy about that. I could finally just die and let the thoughts vanish from my mind. Slowly fade away, like nothing ever happened...

Except... it wasn't all going away. The people were still here, all three of those people. All of their faces, looking at one another and possibly wondering how a beast could hold his own for so long against them. A demon I was, and a demon I'll always be. Ripped of my wings and deprived of flight. That's what the world wanted, right? That's what they always wanted... some sweetheart to win these games. And this girl had the best chance now, taking down the devil himself. She must've had god on her side or something to make it this far passed me. I can only imagine what divine favor shined on that face of her as she raised that blade, poised at me with the others. Just like back at home. Who could ever have pity on a face like mine?

I raise my spear, letting the pain run its course, trying to figure out what I'll do next. It's only a matter of time till death comes to me, for me, hoping that I'll just be another marker on that gravestone. In the tomb of a noble man. Yes, that's what I'd always be remembered as. A noble man, someone of value and importance after the games. Isn't that what you've always wanted Damion? I always did want that. Someone to respect me for what I've done in these games. I was bred to be here, and I wasn't just going to be forgotten. The world would remember the name Winters now. Everyone in the capitol would be speaking my name in hushed whispers and speaking about how my downfall was that of an angels. How I resembled the great winged angel Lucifer on his decent to Hell. And who would have known that paradise actually fell? It did once that angel was gone. Now only the shell of a demon remained.

The cut came too quick for me to realize. She had gotten behind me and slashes against the back of my head. My vision blurs, changes from dark to light as I try to grasp onto what was really going on. Just as I thought, the pain was calling me to that grave. Would Mace be watching, telling me that I did wrong? I should have not cared for their lives, right Mace? I chuckle, falling to my knees in thought of what would become of me. The people would come in, carry me off and just whisk me away. Back home to Mother and Father, who would most likely just get back to their drinking game. They wouldn't be able to handle the lose of another child.

Like you ever cared Damion.

“Can you read me a story Remie?” I can remember being comfortable in bed, while my parents are out drinking again. Remie's sitting next to my bed with a weak smile, her right eye bruised. It's not my fondest memory, but it is one that stuck with me. She had run in after being fired from work recently. Somewhere out on a field tending to the animals. She said that the keeper was just angry and couldn't control his temper for what happened. And I never really understood what happened.

“Sure Damion, which one would you like to hear?” Remie stood and went to the bookshelf, looking over the battered books. I could hear her sniffling, like something was wrong. I don't know what was wrong, I just don't know what could have happened. “How about a nice little fairytale? her voice was shaky.

I nodded, sat myself up in bed with a cheeky grin. I had lost my two front teeth, so it made her smile and laugh to see me smile and laugh. And that made me happy for some reason. I don't really remember why it ever made me happy. “I love your stories Remie.” I had let off a childish giggle, squirming in my bed, anxious to hear her read me a story.

“Alright alright Damion.” Her laughter brought solace to my soul. “Once upon a time...”

I'm not dead yet, and I wasn't just going to die so easily. No. No story ever let it's villain die so easily. It had to be painful, excruciating. He or she had to suffer beyond anything the hero had. And if this girl was a hero to this arena, then I would make my suffering more than anything she could ever experience. Yes, she would know that I could invoke pain and misery I push myself up, keep some balance on my foot, and look the girl in the eyes. I smile, taste the copper coating my teeth. I'm sure that I'll be haunting her, or her brother, or everyone else here in this arena. She would remember all of us if she ever made it out. Scream out at night from the horrors she had to see. That's what a demon does, right?

[/i][/color]

I hop over and grab her sword, smiling. “Fine then, you want me dead so bad? Let me show you what I can endure, just a taste,” I smile, and press forward.

The blade is cold against the inside of my body, which I should have expected since metal doesn't really carry any heat. But that won't stop me. My suffering has to be more than hers. A villain has to suffer more than the hero. I press forward more and more, pulling myself closer and closer to her in an attempt to show her how much one should be able to endure. What one should be able to go through to win. What I've done mentally to prepare myself for all of this. And the whole way I smile while blood oozes out. And I finally stop at the hilt, blood splattering out like bullets. Let me color you, little girl, and show you the blood of a true winner.

“Can you even begin to understand miss hero?” I scoff at her, gather whatever blood is in my mouth, and spit it in her face. “You've just slayed your antagonist.”

And in the blurring image of darkness, I can finally see Remie next to the boy who had killed her. She is in the same pose as she was in the video, looking up at him with sorrow and trying to place her words. And he is frozen with the spear, aiming down at her thinking whether or not to strike her. And in the brief moment, I see something new. Remie has grabbed the boys free hand, and her mouth moves. Except, now I can hear it all. Every word that drips out from her mouth, tainting my ears.

“It's okay...”

I chuckle, more blood from my mouth firing out as I hold onto the blade. My eyes divert back to Aria. I tilt my head, smile, and nod.

“Let me just say...”I hold myself steady, though my head can hardly stay up anymore, “That it's not okay...”

Remie neared the last page. A brave night was slaying a dragon that had come from a wicked witch. He was doing it all to save some princess, whatever that was, and he was braver than anyone I knew. He could fight the depths of hell without looking back and never knew if there was a guarantee of coming back. But the knight would fight on and on for this princess. She was his life and his bane, the thing that held him to existence. And if she were gone, then he would be too.

“And so the knight defeated the dragon and saved the princess,” A door in the house slammed, and loud voices boomed through the house. Remie lost her happiness and her expression went from joy to hatred. “And they lived happily ever after, the end.”

[/color][/blockquote][/justify][/size]

Credit to Charity

rook
Veteran Member

2,361 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen Sept 26, 2023 15:42:53 GMT -5

who needs another thing to be sad about?

Paint Us {black and blue} - morbidargos Oct 30, 2012 16:54:32 GMT -5

Quote

Post by rook on Oct 30, 2012 16:54:32 GMT -5

we VILLAINS are a very select group indeed.
in the very desperation of our HATE

[/font] rests our strength.[/size][/color][/center]

the sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
the thunder of the drums dictates
the rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths
the rising of the horns ahead

[/i][/right]

Dead. I wipe the cold sweat from my brow with the dirtied fabric of my tunic, adding to the various stains that I've picked up these past few days: blood, dirt, dog-saliva, tears. Through it all, I have survived again. The Winters boy is dead, lying next to the corpse of his friend who died before him. Two more faces will light up the skies tonight, and as the numbers rapidly drop to single figures, each death is a sigh of relief. The feeling of paranoia fills me again, its unwelcome sensation draws my eyes back to Peridot and Aria. Accusing eyes, nervous eyes. My trust is rapidly declining into a hysteric state where I feel I need to get as far away from Peridot Myler as possible.

Scared, Drummond? Ripred, no. The Myler boy doesn't scare me, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. The girl from Eight is even less intimidating, even if she did manage to actually hit something with Kiera's sword. The sword she doesn't deserve. She doesn't deserve any of this, not the sword, nor my hospitality or food that I provided. She's brought nothing to this alliance, nothing but death and despair. Why does she get to live, when Kiera has given us all so much? Fear is not natural to me, the last time I was scared was when I was trapped inside my own mind, a victim to my own demons in that sick dream world that led to Kiera's swift end. The conspiracy of Myler and Wolfe doesn't scare me, it concerns me. It's like raising Mountain Lions as pets: At first, they're cute and likeable. Believe it or not I actually liked Peridot the first few days. Yet as time does on, Aria and Peri get stronger and stronger, bigger and bigger. I sense their confidence growing, and it won't be long before they figure out that the two of them can maul me pretty easily. I need to crack my whip, show them I'm still the dominant figure around here. Just because Kiera is gone, doesn't mean that I'm weak.

I dip down in the Styx, cleaning my crimson-painted blade in the rushing whispers of the river. My blade must be perfect, especially if the most important fight of my life is coming up. I sense a storm, an inevitable clash on the horizon. I'm not quite sure what it is yet, but I don't want to stick around and get caught up in it. My intentions are to get away from the duo that I call allies, find a place to hide until things break down a little. There are how many tributes left, now?

Boom!

Well, there's one cannon, probably for the first boy who died. There were Eleven of us at the start of the day, but minus Winters' ally, and th-

Boom!

...And then minus Winters himself, that leaves us with Nine. Yet a cannon went off earlier in the day, if I recall correctly. That gives us eight. Five tributes other than Peridot, Aria and Myself. I know Bran is one of those, the dirty cripple. Other than that, I see Demeter - the Career that I replaced in the traditional One and Two District Quad. I care little from the girl from Two, and don't consider her a threat. Anyone who's made it this far can't be taken lightly, Wednesdae. True. There's Ailis, Naveen and Heather, who tagged along with Demeter, and the four of them know how to wield a weapon. The quad of girls are dangerous, and we need to take them out. Hopefully the earlier cannon was one of the four girls, because I'm hoping the remaining tribute that I've overlooked is
some weak kid from the back-districts that I can hunt down and raid for supplies. Peridot, Aria, Demeter, Naveen, Heather, Ailis, Bran, Overlooked Kid, Wednesdae. One of them is dead, and regardless of who it is, it's shaping up to be a tough end to what has been a tough challenge. Soon, I will get my purification.

Peridot's movement pulls me away from the corpses of Damion and his friend. I consider looting their bodies, but I decide not to in the end, simply because there's not much I need, nor have room for in my arsenal. I still carry that Spear that I started these Games with, yet only as a precaution. If someone disarms me, I'll have a backup weapon ready. Didn't think of that, did you Peridot? I run my plan over inside my head again, how I am going to divert from the Lions before they bite the hand that protects them and keeps them safe.

Let's hope I'm as dangerous to them as I think I am. It might just keep me alive.

[Wednesdae uses Needle and Thread and 5ft of Bandages on Aria for -6]
[Wednesdae uses First Aid on himself for -3]
[Wednesdae flees]

from the dawn of time to the end of days
i will have to run away
i want to feel the pain and the bitter taste
of the blood on my lips again

[/i][/right]

[/size][/color][/blockquote]

notes: --

theme:[/color] "Iron" - Woodkid[/color][/size]

an hourglass is just a glass with sand inside