never ending story // cici & north

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florentine, d4b ❁
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never ending story // cici & north Jan 21, 2013 21:19:33 GMT -5

Post by florentine, d4b ❁ on Jan 21, 2013 21:19:33 GMT -5

♕ KLAUS GORAVICH ♕

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You put the gun in your mouth,
To bite the bullet and spit it out,
'Cause it's running in the family,
All the riches go to me.

It doesn't seem like two years since I arrived in the Capitol, awestruck and terrified. Then, I was certain that death was simply days from befalling me. I was wrong, just as I was wrong about many things. When I killed Fitz Ripley and earned myself the crown, I didn't understand that for the rest of my life I'd have to do this. Stand right back where I began and look child after child in the eye, offering fruitless advice and knowing they wont be as lucky as I. It's not about them. It's about their friends, and whether they're weak enough to slaughter them in return for their own life.

I want to look at the slight girl that stand before me now and ask her if she's willing to steal a life and a future and a brother and a son in order to return home. I want to make sure that living, for her, is really, truly worth it. Even before she opens her mouth to speak, I know these are words that will never find their place in the air between us. Perhaps she senses them, in a way that Penelope always used to feel the words I didn't speak. She was the girl I knew for a lifetime and days, all at once. I didn't take her, but there's nothing to say that I wouldn't have. I glance around the training center, watching tributes interact. I wonder, now, how many of them will fall in love. Which one of them will return next year to do exactly as I do now.

Wait for their tributes to die.

'Cause it's burning through the bloodline,
Cutting down the family tree,
Growing in the landscape, darling.
In-between you and me.

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never ending story // cici & north Jan 22, 2013 7:35:09 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2013 7:35:09 GMT -5

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Years spent wishing I could be Rapunzel, and yet maybe that fairy-tale will never be mine. I know that this is my end when I see the swords and the arrows, the lingering death that's just waiting to strike. For years, I've been trapped in a tower, my long blond hair pulling me down to reality; and here I am now, finally having escaped the life I'd been confined to. Maybe Mother had seen some sense when she slapped me for holding such fantasies true, because this prison doesn't seem anything like the fairy-tale ending I've dreamed of my entire life.

I turn around and there's the boy who stood beside me on the stage, and to the right of him is the boy that gave me hope since the first day Aylin told me. “Klaus,” I whisper, my feet planted to the ground in pure shock. Of course I know him—who deosn't? Of course I knew he would be my mentor, but I guess I just never expected it to be so real—I never expected to meet Aylin's brother before she ever did. How desperately I want to tell him now, and how desperately I don't. It's not my secret; it's never been mine to tell. Yet, a pang of jealousy nudges my conscience, and I realize that this fairy-tale isn't mine—it's Aylin's—and even if my life doesn't end like a fairy-tale, her's still could. “Klaus,” I say, one more time, trying to push the truth from my mouth, but I can't seem to fall to such means, not if Aylin still wants it a secret. I've waited, so I suppose Aylin can too.

[ooc – coding later.]

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School is the bane of my life
Career Tribute

[M:9285]

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last seen Mar 22, 2013 11:41:07 GMT -5

never ending story // cici & north Jan 22, 2013 23:30:47 GMT -5

Post by School is the bane of my life on Jan 22, 2013 23:30:47 GMT -5

Im standing in Brooklyn just waiting for something to happen

I can't help but love thinking that everyone doesn't get it
To my left there's a window, where did I go?
My reflection just blends to rows of clothes
And bad ideas, ideas nonetheless, in a song[/center][/color][/size]

Regret (feeling sad, repentant, or disappointed over something that has happened or been done,) is a strong word to use. Excuses can’t be made for saying it for the most common of purposes, what regret can someone really get from not taking a spare shirt with them? Life’s cruel joke towards the poor when they have to listen to the rich complain when they can barely afford a shirt themselves. I can’t say I ever was the poor one or the rich one, so did I regret anything? Not really, regret has never crossed my mind until I was reaped. When I only had a few minutes with my family, where we were supposed to be savoring the memories we made together. But we couldn't, because we had none.

I used to stay in my room all day, uninterested in taking the obtainable love from my parents. Instead I hung off the words of my literature, those books replaced the only love I could get from the world. And now that I have been ripped away from all that, I long for my parents love. Such sad thoughts to think about when trapped in an inescapable fortress. The only way I can escape these regrets are by occupying myself with the next’ to do’ on my schedule. When I came down to the training center in the morning I picked the easiest training station and still in the late of afternoon I sit in one spot, hunched over long lines of string, wiring them together in a tight pattern. I peer up just for a second to get the seal of approval from the nearby trainer but then I catch the sight of Klaus and Faye. The blankness of my mind concerned me so the sighting of Klaus is a welcome interruption. But what would he be doing down here when he could be lounging upstairs? Maybe he needs to see me? The trainer notices my staring, he understands and nods in approval of my basket, I nod back and place the weaved basket down. Without an extra thought I trudge over to Klaus, lining up with my district partner. Standing straight, I stare intently at Klaus. “Hey Klaus, good to see you down here,” I wonder what regrets he has.

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