Love! Hate! Torture!.. Mostly torture. [PHLUNA]

Love! Hate! Torture!.. Mostly torture. [PHLUNA] Aug 23, 2010 1:42:59 GMT -5

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Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Aug 23, 2010 1:42:59 GMT -5

The Murderess Band was nothing short of spectacular, but Mercury Duval had quite the problem with it. They were an intimidating bunch, not that she would ever admit that to anyone. It was on rare occasion that she ever found people whom were truly up to her level- or, at least, the level that she perceived herself belonging to- and it always discomforted her. She had to be the best, she was the best, in her mind, but these girls were just the same way.. if not for a little bit less full of themselves. But, at the same time, they intrigued her like nothing else could. She craved, no, needed excitement and danger, and they were the sole image of those qualities. Every single one of them. It confused her, and that was saying something. She was NEVER confused. She had to be in control of the situation, no matter what. It seemed like everything, in the past few weeks, had fallen out of her control and into the hands of those around her. She hated them and she was intrigued by them, and it always seemed to be one or the other. There was one individual, though, that confused her the most.

Nala Cerce. She was just as dangerous and intriguing as all the rest; the oldest member of the Murderess Band, and Mercury completely and truly despised her. But then again, it's not as if the feeling wasn't mutual. Or, if you'd really like to get technical about it, Nala was the first one to hate, for whatever reason. Mercury was so likable, how could anyone hate her?! Yeah, right.. As if she wasn't a manipulating bitch. She knew how she acted, though she never quite cared nor realized that how she acted was wrong. She was perfect! She had to be. She was the best. So how on earth could Nala hate her? It was a mystery to her, and for once, Mercury actually cared, which also confused her. She hated Nala, Nala hated her, why the hell did it matter? It was all so confusing, and she HATED to be confused.

But was that the point of this situation anyways? They had a mission- a very fun mission- to torture some person that neither Mercury or Nala had met before. Or so she thought. Even so, it didn't even matter who it was. Torture was fun no matter who the victim was. Except it wouldn't be fun, with Nala tagging along. There wasn't a thing they could ever agree on, and she was sure that the moment they were required to start talking, Nala would have some remark to say about her that would, of course, lead to another argument. Usually she would enjoy such fights, would even start them for her own amusement, but when she argued with Nala it only pissed her off and confused her some more.

Taking a deep breath, Mercury reminded herself that torture was supposed to be fun, even if she was there working with Nala. With a large, blunt piece of wood in hand and a set of small knives sheathed and tucked into her belt, she trudged through the woods and looked around curiously. It was so boring, waiting for the moment when they were actually going to torture their victim. They had to find him first, and she wanted to torture someone RIGHT THEN. She was so full of boredom that she was ready to sit down and punch something. For a second, she almost did, before an idea struck her.

Turning away from her temporary partner-in-crime, a half smile crossed her face for a moment before she completely stopped, leaned against a tree, and pulled her small on-the-go mirror from her pocket. Before she opened it she looked up at Nala and asked, "You don't mind, do you?" They might be close to their target, they might not be. Either way, there was no better time than that moment to stop and check to see if she looked alright. No, she had to look perfect. Flipping open her small mirror, she observed her hair for a moment and almost gasped when she saw a few hairs tangled on the top of her head. The look of shock on her face was apparent, and she quickly pulled out her miniature hairbrush which she also kept inside of her pocket, just in case. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... She combed through it obsessively, counting the strokes until she reached 162 and she was satisfied that there wasn't a tangle in her hair.

God forbid she didn't look perfect.

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Love! Hate! Torture!.. Mostly torture. [PHLUNA] Aug 25, 2010 22:36:11 GMT -5

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Post by phunke on Aug 25, 2010 22:36:11 GMT -5

I hate forests. Really, really hate them. Seriously. If I had to pick one thing in the world that I had to stab with a rusty spoon until it bled to death, it would probably be surgeons but the second thing would definitely be forests. Of the many things that the Capitol prepared me for throughout my life – green people, overlong toenails, surgeons that resemble muttations – traipsing through the forest is not one of them. For the past several hours, I’ve been stumbling my way through this godawful nature-scene and all I can think is ‘When will it end?’ I keep tripping into roots and smacking into branches. I guess I never realized what a city-chick I am until I got out into the wide world. Can’t say I’ve missed out on anything, though; civilization is where it’s at. Just because I don’t like most things in the Cap, doesn’t mean I find this weirdly quiet, dark jungle to be a wonderland or anything. I find myself remembering my couch. I wonder how it’s doing. Ah, comfort. How I miss it. I mentally smack myself. Now isn’t the time to be thinking longingly of home. Now is the time to plan out some torture.

I feel like torture would be a lot easier if I didn’t have Miss Perfection strutting along beside me. How would I ever be able to focus on causing someone else pain when she’s right there? It’s too tempting. Even now I can feel my right hand twitching in her direction, clenched around one of the many knives we’ve each been provided.
I resist the urge but shoot her a nasty glare. She appears to be looking around with a curious expression. I’m sure she’s probably contemplating how to kill our next victim – or maybe me. I hate this girl so shucking much. We hardly know each other and have already shared some arguments. Naturally, I usually win because her logic is, well, nonexistent – but even so, I feel like I’m allergic to her or something. Every time I see her my whole body tenses up and I get this flare of anger and the desire to stab her with something painful. It’s not as though I get along beautifully with any of the other girls in our little murder-clique, but this one is the most difficult to be within twenty feet of.

She stops suddenly, and I nearly run into yet another tree because my head is swiveled around to give her my best ‘What the shuck are you shucking doing?’ look. Tripping slightly on some roots and stumbling under my breath, I come to a stop as well and turn to face her. I don’t mind, do I? I mull it over for a second. Do I mind?
“Oh, not at all, Angel.”
She’s leaning against a tree, looking in a little shucking mirror and brushing her shucking hair. Wow. I thought I was the city girl here. Really, Angelface, you really need to do your hair right now? It makes me so exasperated, so freaking angry, that I don’t realize what I’m doing until the chunk of hair is in my right hand, held out for the knife in my left. Hesitating only slightly, I cut through the hair, not bothering to stop from yanking it a little, and throw the jagged clump to the ground. Mercury’s just standing there, hardly moving. I’m not sure what I expected – I guess that she would immediately throw herself at me and claw me to death with those awful fingernails. I raise my eyebrows and begin to clean my knife off using the hem of my shirt. “Jeesh, got your shucking hair all over my knife…Thanks, Angel.

I can’t keep the grin off my face.