What are the odds ?
Sept 28, 2010 20:53:22 GMT -5
Post by Ravyn (Thresh) on Sept 28, 2010 20:53:22 GMT -5
The breeze was cold on Ravyn’s neck, his warm flesh cooled by the light gust of wind. “So this is district Eight?” He questioned himself in his own silent content. He walked along a long dirt road, bordered on both sides by large and long cotton fields, beautiful in their own way, lined with white balls of cotton and green stems that curled around like a perfect picture, not a weed could be seen in the whole field, there were even some daisies mixed into the seas of green and white. Ravyn could stare into the endless fields forever and on. He saw dozens of workers in the fields, picking and yanking the cotton, but the way in which they did was odd for a foreigner like himself. They picked swiftly and carefully at the same time, it was quick but controlled, not slow and not frantic, it was a lot like Ravyn’s martial arts. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a group of pickers move and work in almost perfect syncranation. They also reminded him of the factory workers back where he called home, and not those scientific engineers, it reminded him of the grimy rusty and dirty factories, except this….this was an art. He stood for several minutes staring and carefully observing the pickers, or what he would have called artists, he followed their fluid motions, and no energy was wasted in their efforts. It had to be conserved for the many hours of nonstop working in the fields; this strategy was a necessity for the people and pickers of this district. Soon it would be for him to .Before he knew it an hour passed. Then after watching them time and time again, he began to imitate their movements, swiftly and carefully, he became an artist himself, except he picked no cotton, he balled his hands into fists or curled his fingers down from the join and used his palms, instead of picking, he was striking and blocking. He began to try and move faster than the pickers, sometimes slower, he maneuvered in different footwork’s, add different mobilities and different combinations. . Soon after another two more hours past, not a sweat broken, but a slight pain began to build up in his arms, he could see the pure energy saving done in the movements, and adapting them to his own martial arts had already made the trip worth it, but he had to move on.
He slugged his backpack up onto his one of his shoulder it, leaving the other empty. As he walked he gripped the strap of the bad that went over his left shoulder with his left hand, the wind blew his dark hair around his face, exposing his dark east island skin to the elements. His wasn’t especially cold, content for the most part, but the breeze cooled the air and everything around him. The wind started to let up slowly, but a steady flow of air always remained constant in the district of cotton. The city began to approach him more and more; it started as a dot on the horizon and became a large driving force in front of him as his walk continued. The closer to the city he got, the more disgusted he became, and the city was great and all, even better than the one he grew up in, but that was the main problem. Nice as it was, it was still a city, a metal and stone prison of buildings, stores and residents. He didn’t spend much time there, he survied the town quickly as he went through, attempting to find a place he would return soon after to find a place to eat, his hunger was crawling up slowly but steadily upon him, he ignored the dire and needy request from his stomach for the moment and kept pressing forward through the city. He also would need to find a place to stay for the night, or possibly more. Sleep was also a much needed asset at this point due to the recent activates he had divulged himself into. But once again, his bodies’ requests would have to wait for a better opportunity to arise, for now, it would have to wait.
No matter how quick he entered and left the city, it would have been too long. The city was very nice though, even for someone who hates them, and it wasn’t because it was filled with fancy building materials like the capitol, or had skyscrapers, no. It was because it was so in touch with nature, the city almost fused with the fields, leaving little to no space between the two for easy access for the pickers to go from home to work, which intrigued Ravyn very much. After Passing through the city, he came upon….you guessed it, more fields. Most people would be bothered by the repition but not Ravyn, he could see the inner beauty that lay within the plants, and how the pure natures of the district shown out through the air like a shining bulb. When his body finally began to ache form lack of nutrition and sleep, he decided to stop and rest for a little while, he found a field that was uninhabited at the moment, and it was nice but unused at the time so it was perfect. There was cotton growing in it and plenty of it, but it wasn’t being picked at the moment, maybe it was abandoned because there were a lot of rocks and weeds along with some nice flowers that didn’t belong but looked nice, but from a working standpoint the field was far from nice, but Ravyn’s eye saw it beautiful as its own. He lay across flat low rock, bits of cotton blowing nicely through the air, adding a sweet and calming effect to the moment, dropping his backpack to the floor before doing so and stared up into the cloudy sky, just enjoying the sounds and sky of District 8.
He slugged his backpack up onto his one of his shoulder it, leaving the other empty. As he walked he gripped the strap of the bad that went over his left shoulder with his left hand, the wind blew his dark hair around his face, exposing his dark east island skin to the elements. His wasn’t especially cold, content for the most part, but the breeze cooled the air and everything around him. The wind started to let up slowly, but a steady flow of air always remained constant in the district of cotton. The city began to approach him more and more; it started as a dot on the horizon and became a large driving force in front of him as his walk continued. The closer to the city he got, the more disgusted he became, and the city was great and all, even better than the one he grew up in, but that was the main problem. Nice as it was, it was still a city, a metal and stone prison of buildings, stores and residents. He didn’t spend much time there, he survied the town quickly as he went through, attempting to find a place he would return soon after to find a place to eat, his hunger was crawling up slowly but steadily upon him, he ignored the dire and needy request from his stomach for the moment and kept pressing forward through the city. He also would need to find a place to stay for the night, or possibly more. Sleep was also a much needed asset at this point due to the recent activates he had divulged himself into. But once again, his bodies’ requests would have to wait for a better opportunity to arise, for now, it would have to wait.
No matter how quick he entered and left the city, it would have been too long. The city was very nice though, even for someone who hates them, and it wasn’t because it was filled with fancy building materials like the capitol, or had skyscrapers, no. It was because it was so in touch with nature, the city almost fused with the fields, leaving little to no space between the two for easy access for the pickers to go from home to work, which intrigued Ravyn very much. After Passing through the city, he came upon….you guessed it, more fields. Most people would be bothered by the repition but not Ravyn, he could see the inner beauty that lay within the plants, and how the pure natures of the district shown out through the air like a shining bulb. When his body finally began to ache form lack of nutrition and sleep, he decided to stop and rest for a little while, he found a field that was uninhabited at the moment, and it was nice but unused at the time so it was perfect. There was cotton growing in it and plenty of it, but it wasn’t being picked at the moment, maybe it was abandoned because there were a lot of rocks and weeds along with some nice flowers that didn’t belong but looked nice, but from a working standpoint the field was far from nice, but Ravyn’s eye saw it beautiful as its own. He lay across flat low rock, bits of cotton blowing nicely through the air, adding a sweet and calming effect to the moment, dropping his backpack to the floor before doing so and stared up into the cloudy sky, just enjoying the sounds and sky of District 8.
