:.c a l l.: us what we are // (fray family)

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umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars]
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:.c a l l.: us what we are // (fray family) Oct 9, 2013 21:29:45 GMT -5

Post by umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars] on Oct 9, 2013 21:29:45 GMT -5

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kellan fray

back off, I'll take you on
headstrong to take on anyone
I know that you are wrong
this is not where you belong

Thanksgiving.

Some considered it a holiday for the family to get together and simply enjoy each other's company. One big meal, for a happy family. My family was not even close to that. We were like animals, hungry, not for food, but for the embarrassment of our own flesh and blood. This day was to be spent helping my brothers and father cut wood while my sisters and my mother slaved away in the kitchen. (It was right where they belonged.) Then, as the sun began to disappear in the horizon, I was going to sit at the dining room table we only ever sat three times a year. Today, that dreadful holiday at the end of the year, and the night before the reaping. I guessed mom must have cleaned it while my siblings and I were at school or training, because it always maintained a shine that made it seem brand new.

I dusted my hands on my pants as Kaiser and I stacked the last few pieces of wood onto the ring my father bought a few weeks prior. He said it gave a powerful yet elegant look to the place. I knew how important appearances were. Especially in this family. We always had to look our best, always be on our best behavior, and basically be perfect. Which wasn't a problem for me, but some of my siblings struggled to even look decent half the time. (Particularly the younger ones.) I had no patience for any of my brothers and sisters, honestly. A night spent solely with them wasn't going to be good. I knew it in the pit of my stomach. We would all behave properly, of course, my parents would demand it, but they all knew exactly how I truly felt on the inside. They could feel my hatred for them just as clearly as I could feel their jealousy for me.

After a quick shower, and a pep talk to myself in the mirror- not the type of talks Justice had with himself where he boasted about those tiny biceps and, of course, that puny core of his- I simply made myself promise not to rip his head, or anyone else's, off his shoulders and toss it into the fire. I ran a quick hand through my hair, it didn't take much for it to look nice, of course, I hustled down stairs where my mother and Labyrinth were putting the finishing touches on the gigantic roasted bird in the center on the long oak table in the middle of the room.

My mother looked over her shoulder and flashed that quick, poisonous smile of her's my way. "Go tell your brothers it is time to eat, please." She spat the last word already having the knowledge that it wasn't necessary. She and my father knew they controlled every single one of us, or so they thought. They knew what we did during every day of our lives. They didn't know that each of us sneaked away during the night. For me, it usually was to go to a party and hook up with a girl I barely knew. I had no idea where they went, and I didn't care. Nobody did. Everything was about me, and they knew it.

If they didn't I could easily remind them.

Once we were all gathered around the table, I found myself sitting between Sterling and Pillar. Kaiser and Scout sat directly in front of me, thinking whatever the fuck they could muster up in those twisted minds of their's. (They were easily the most insane, and perhaps my biggest competition.) Scout was busy destroying her napkin by stabbing it with the prongs of her fork, and Kaiser sat back with that smug grin he always wore like he owned the place. How wrong he was, poor guy.

My parents sat at opposite heads of the table, my father at the one closest to me. The entire table was filled with food I imagined Justice would have a cow about eating until he could run off the extra calories. (Sometimes I seriously wondered about him.) I saw plenty of people that cared about what they looked like, I was one of them. But none of the boys other than Justice had ever worn mascara. What was it he said? It brought his eyes out? Please. It was pathetic, if you asked me. Which, you should have, because my opinion mattered more than anyone else's. My father started the dinner off by telling us our family history, how high our blood status was, how important it was for each of us to carry on the tradition. (I was working on it.)

Let's be honest here. I could have anyone I wanted. I could pick any girl in the world, and make them mine and they wouldn't have ever even tried to protest. Unfortunately, my dick-head of a father didn't approve of anyone that he hadn't already approved of. Basically, I had three choices. A Shore, (I always seemed to be drawn to them the most.) a Lightwood, (Weren't most of them old?) or a Devereaux. (I was pretty sure they weren't even competitive careers.) Other than the onslaught of girls in the Shore children that were eligible, I wasn't interested in any of the choices my father had given me. (How many of them had a slept with, again?)

Next, my mother discussed how important our training was. She told us about how we each had strengths, me of course having the most. She told us how proud she was to call us her own, and gave us praise for all of our hard work before finally declaring we could all dig in. I filled my plate with as much food as I could, which ended up being a turkey leg, sweet corn, a piece of ham topped with pineapple, coleslaw, and a piece of garlic bread with cheese sprinkles on top. I didn't waste time digging in and letting the taste fill my mouth. I wasn't particularly excited for the food, but I was excited to get the meal over with so I could get as far away from this train-wreck of a family as possible. I nodded to Pillar, who moved with careful actions due to all the running I forced her to do at the training center. "How long do you think it'll be until an argument breaks out?" I whispered, almost pleasantly. Of my siblings, Pillar was one of the more tolerable ones, even if that sweet attitude of her's made me want to push her face first into a mud hole. She was adopted. One of those 'unspeakable" family secrets. And yet she was who I was closest to. Strange.

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ooc: there will be no posting order, but I would like for everyone to post at least once! There isn't a word limit, but try not to make it a blitz, please! I'm not worried about getting the entire thread finished in the next week, so I'd rather you all take your time and make bigger posts! <333

[/justify][/size]

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

brad bradford ★ d5 [arx]
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literally so gay, doing so many crimes

:.c a l l.: us what we are // (fray family) Oct 10, 2013 21:22:42 GMT -5

Post by brad bradford ★ d5 [arx] on Oct 10, 2013 21:22:42 GMT -5

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And the cry goes out
They lose their minds for us
And how it plays out
Now we're in the ring
And we're coming for blood

Chopping wood? Um, seriously? Not sure if anyone else cares (and I guess by their appearance they obviously do not) but chopping woods means a hell of a lot of lotion later. Because as the head of household (~~Ha!~~) and obviously the sexiest in the family, I understand that chopping wood gives you rough, calloused, blistered palms. And I know for a fact, the ladies don't enjoy rough hands. If you know what I mean ... Anywho, I don't think they really need my help. ~~Well they do, but still ...~~ Besides, I have lots of things I have to do in order to make sure that I am ready for this little family feast of ours. I'm fairly certain I will kill someone tonight. Probably Pillar to be honest. She shouldn't even be at the table. Adopted - what a fucking joke. If she is going to come to this dinner we should put a collar on her and let her eat the scraps off the floor and kick her whenever she talks. Treated like a dumb mutt - or more specifically a little bitch.

But it's not like I am implying that I care - because I don't. Besides, I have much bigger things to worry about. Like my hair and my face and my arms and well, looking good. Oh I know, I know - I am already perfect - but even the best of us must put forth a tad bit of effort in order to walk out of our rooms perfectly. Us? Our? Right, sorry, no one can be as devilishly handsome as the one and only Justice Fray. But I do encourage everyone to at least to attempt to meet my standards. I mean, please, get the fuck away from me if you are going to look like a complete slob. Not only can I not stand being near your ugliness, it hurts the good Fray reputation. And the hell if I should be the one to stain that. If anyone is going to ruin our legacy it is Pil- Nope. She doesn't even deserve a complete thought. A smirk crawls onto my face as I stare at the ceiling from where I lay in my bed. I raise my eyebrows a little, winking at the reflection looking back at me. (Yes, I have a mirror above my bed. I like waking up to myself.)

"Damn who is that fine specimen of a man up there?"

Honestly I am glad I don't resemble any of my siblings too much. Being ugly must be hard. Okay, so maybe they aren't all that ugly ... But none of them look the way I do in the mirror every morning. Look at Kellan and yes, it's true, every girl is tripping over themselves to ~~get in his pants~~ have a drink with him and honestly it is understandable. But then again, if I was a bit taller and had more years to my name they would definitely be begging for me to give them even just a simple glance. And, uh, of course if they got down on their knees ... I chuckle at the thought and force myself to roll out of bed, already dreading the day ahead. Thanksgiving for a family who doesn't much care for each other certainly isn't all that great. All of use trying to cram into one room, all of us trying to get along - yeah, I can't see it happening. That doesn't mean I won't enjoy the elaborate array of food that I'm sure the girls are already busy making and looking better than everyone else at the table.

Step 1 and the solution to every problem: Make yourself damn hot. And I get right to it, after a long hot shower that fogs up every mirror and window, I place myself in front of another mirror (I have at least ... 5 in my room? I think?) and brush through my hair. It is quite unruly with it at such a luscious length, but I manage to get it to stay in its usual style with some gel and hairspray. So then I start to survey my face, checking for blemishes and other miscreant nastiness that might just happen to be lurking. Eyes? Perfect and bright blue as usual. No stray eyelashes or cooky eyebrows, no crust at their corners from sleep, nothing but perfection. I glance over my nose, over my cheeks, rub at my sideburns and over the bit of troublesome whiskers that are poking their way through my skin, seeing nothing our of the ordinary besides that Ripred damned mother friggin' pimple that has been sitting in my chin for nearly 2 whole days now. I pull out some ... well, make-up, okay? (Don't hate me 'cause you ain't me.) And cover it up as best as I can, satisfied when I see nothing but perfection again. I continue on by brushing, flossing, and applying whitening strips to my teeth, busying myself with sifting through my closet while I wait for the strips to work their magic.

A nice gray collared shirt, a dashing bright blue tie, some slacks tied with a nice black leather belt, and shoes polished so that they literally sparkle complete my outfit for the day. Once I am dressed and I have looked over my hair again, my face, rubbed lotion into my hands, straightened my tie, checked over my cuff links, brushed any dust bunnies that managed to hop their way onto my pants, and have flexed in the mirror a few times, each time making sure that my smile is just as white and sparkly as it always is, I rub some expensive cologne on my wrists, neck, and chest, I deem myself ready. I wink at myself in each of my mirrors just as I always do before I leave my room each morning, and make my way downstairs where I can already smell food - mixed with a tinge of jealousy and pure hatred.

Hell, maybe even some blood is mixed in with all the food. I suppose that would be one of Scout's touches, seeing as she does have quite the fascination with career training and the likes. Crazy. She really should worry more about the way she looks ... Just look at Kel and me. We are literally perfect. I am a bit more than him obviously, but I can let him think that he is. Whatever. I know I am the brains, brawn, and looks of this family. Labby's IQ? Nothing compared to mine. (And I spend my school days staring at girls asses and not actually paying attention!) Kellan? Maddox? Kaiser? I don't think they have glimpsed my biceps or the rest of my perfectly toned body if they think they got the brawn. And looks? Are you kidding me? Considering everyone else but Sophie was obviously not good enough for mom and dad (see that's why they kept trying until they got it right - me.) I guess she is my only competition. Besides, she was obviously a mistake in nature. She may think she is cute but everyone knows I am most certainly the good looks of the Fray clan.

As I enter the kitchen and everyone takes their place around the table, a nice speech commences from both mom and dad, each of them talking of tradition, boasting of our heritage and how each us should fight to carry on with our perfect bloodlines. (Hell, unlike all these unlucky saps I'm about the same age as that Shore girl that just managed to win the Games.) Marrying someone with bloodlines just as pure, or at least as pure as they could get considering no blood can compete with that of the Frays', was very important to the dad. And I guess I could see why. Besides, it doesn't matter much who he thinks my options are - as long as they aren't too damn ugly, I can manage. Then mom preaches about career training and how though only two ~~one - one of us~~ of us is eligible for this Reaping, that she is proud of all our hard work and and our talents. And then, the feast, or rather impending doom, begins.

I let myself purge for the day, confident that I can burn off the extra calories or convert it all into more muscle on my bones. I full my entire plate, piling things on top of one another, just trying to get as much of the fabulously smelling delicacies that cover the table. I check my reflection in the clean silver spoon at my place before digging into whatever the nearest pile of food happens to be. I glance around the table between bites, waiting for any sort of conversation to appear or some stupid remark to end the whole dinner in some sort of food fight or chair throwing. So, let the games begin? And as the thought crosses my mind, making me smile for a moment, I see Kellan bending to whisper to Pillar. I roll my eyes at the sight. Those two have been just the cutest peas in a pod lately, what with the whole older kids teaching the younger kids what's what with training. I look around the table then, glancing over everyone, trying to pick out who I want to ~~suffer through a conversation with ...~~ talk to first. Mr. Pissy Pants Maddox? No. Mr. I Think With My Dick Kellan? No. Pil- No. Miss Queen Of Smart Ass Bitchery Labyrinth? Pass. Mr. & Miss. Sadistic Brains Kaiser and Scout? Yeah, no. Mom? Dad? Hell to the no. Miss Princess Perfect Lil' Bitchface Sophie? Noooope. I sigh softly before swallowing my food and asking with a bit of a smirk, "So, Pillar, hows training been?" I begin to cut into a slice of ham before adding, "Not letting anyone hit you too hard in the head again are you?"

I glance at Kel, looking for some sort of reaction but deciding I don't much care what the hell he thinks of my antics. Not like I said anything too offensive anyway. She did get her head bashed in after all. Comical. You'd think that mom and dad would've sent her back straight to the orphanage after that coma stunt she pulled. Whatever. As much as I didn't like some of my family, I knew that some would agree with me in this battle.

Yeah. Let the games begin.

You could try and take us
But we're the gladiators
Everyone a rager
But secretly they're saviors
Glory and gore go hand in hand

|| lyrics: glory and gore || palette: i c e c r e a m * || words: 1750
|| plot: fray family (dars) || fc: michael fjordbak ||

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

Python
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:.c a l l.: us what we are // (fray family) Oct 12, 2013 23:10:43 GMT -5

Post by Python on Oct 12, 2013 23:10:43 GMT -5

When he woke up that crisp morning, two thoughts crossed his mind.

One: Shit, it’s Thanksgiving.

Two: Oh hell yes, it’s Thanksgiving!

There were simple reasons why these were his mind’s greeting to the holiday. Thanksgiving always fiddled with his schedule. Instead of training like a badass he would be chopping wood with his brothers while the women prepared dinner in the kitchen (our family apparently likes gender stereotypes. I bet Scout would rather be outside using an axe). It was tedious work that inflicted dull aches for the sake of worthless appearances, and he would much rather he slicing limbs and bone than stupid pieces of wood.

But then he remembered the reasons why he loved Thanksgiving.

First of all, food was a beautiful part of life. Its level on the “awesome” scale was somewhere below sex and blood, but above things like family relationships and bonding. Thanksgiving day always meant a gorgeously prepared meal and scarfing down his own weight in delicious food, so he was ecstatic about that. Then, there was the gathering itself that always tickled his fancy. His entire family had serious issues, and putting a bunch of unstable, weirdo teenaged careers at one table then expecting them to cooperate was just begging for chaos. Hilarity ensued every single time, and he loved playing his part. There was Kellan, who was so damn arrogant and slutty it was actually painful to watch and fun to imagine (seriously, how does he not have any STDs yet?). There was Maddox, a little bitch and a sore loser, and very fun to poke at with sticks. Labyrinth was a sarcastic bookworm, Scout was too terrifying and badass for words (like him, because they’re twins, duh), Justice was way too obsessed with his appearance even though Kaiser was clearly hotter, Pillar was the adopted, strange child who was way too damn angelic and nice, and Sophie was a royal whiny bitch of a preteen that never knew how to shut her mouth. And then there was Kaiser, who thought all of his siblings were hilarious when they argued.

He couldn’t wait for dinner (and entertainment) to be served.

The labor itself was boring, just as he had predicted. There was nothing even remotely interesting about chopping up wood outside - he would much rather be channeling this energy into dismembering strangers. To make the work more bearable, he imagined that the lengths of word were the thick legs of a restrained man, and that when the edge of his axe lodged into the flesh there would be blood spurting from the narrow wound; lots and lots of sticky, hot, fresh blood to make his nerves tingle in delight. When he finally sliced clean through the entire width, he picture the bone snapping beneath his power, leaving two separate pieces with ivory sticks jutting out at awkward angles. He could practically see all of the blood pouring out through severed vessels, forming thick pools by the damaged flesh and muscle. Why not paint everything red? It was his favorite color, not to mention the metallic scent and even taste (not a vampire, he tried it once, okay?) was intoxicating to him. He wished he could have that instead of some boring old wood. Not that he would let his family see him in action; the whole “career by day, murderer by night” thing was a secret. Well, for the most part. He was pretty sure most of his siblings knew about it. It was the same deal with Scout, too.

Did that mean they were frightened of him? Or did they just not care, or want to avoid problems? Whatever it was, he was pleased that they kept their traps shut. He didn’t want to deal with angrily disturbed parents or annoying Peacekeepers. He wanted to keep doing his own thing, because it was fun, just like sex and eating. He never did any of those at the same time, though. He had yet to meet anyone kinky enough for that.

Once everyone was settled at the dinner table, Kaiser helped himself to the food with a smug grin spread up to his sharp cheekbones. Why was he happy? Not only because the food was scrumptious, but also because he could feel the tension in the air like a poisonous gas threatening to invade their lungs. Soon enough, somebody would speak, shit would start, arguments would break out, and hell would be released onto this earth. The evening would probably end with bleeding faces, bruised egos or a delectable concoction of both. He couldn’t wait for the amusement to commence.

And then, just like that, the first words were spoken.

It was sleazy Kellan whispering to Pillar. He couldn’t quite hear the words (something about “arguments”? who knows), but it didn’t matter. Once somebody’s lips started smacking, other lips started smacking. Eventually, it would lead to actual smacking, and Kaiser would be there to either participate or laugh at it all. Maybe both if he was lucky. ”So, Pillar, how’s training been?” Justice suddenly asked, and he could tell shit was about to launch downhill because it was Justice of all people starting a conversation. With him, it was bound to go south all the way to the inner circles of Hell, where he would still think he was gorgeous even if he was as red and naked and ugly as Satan. ”Not letting anyone hit you too hard in the head again are you?”

Oh shit.

Even if wasn’t meant to be cruel, he knew the situation was about to turn sour. He was pretty sure Pillar did get her head bashed in a lot, but it wasn’t something one should bring up on a holiday at the dinner table. Unless you’re Justice. Kaiser smirked behind his napkin and turned to look at Scout. ”Shit’s going down tonight,” he whispered gleefully, shoving another mouthful of potatoes passed his lips. He was right, of course. The tension turning the air thick like cake batter was pretty damn obvious. He decided he would just lean back with a grin plastered on his lips, and enjoy the show.

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

Last Edit: Oct 12, 2013 23:13:27 GMT -5 by Python

cass
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:.c a l l.: us what we are // (fray family) Oct 13, 2013 2:48:52 GMT -5

Post by cass on Oct 13, 2013 2:48:52 GMT -5

Scout Fray paused at the top of the stairs. Carefully she ran a hand through her hair, picking out the last bits of dirt and dust that had gathered within their confines. She’d just gotten home from a walk, a nice long, walk down the streets. All sorts of mischief happened when she went for walks, in fact, the last time she went for a walk had ended with her going into a twelve year olds boys house, murdering his parents and then finishing off the boy himself. But of course she had played a game first. She had left a letter in his house and he had read every single word of it and by the end she had slit his throat, leaving his blood to drain on the floor and into the expensive plush carpet, just as his parents had. Scout had left tsking in disgust. She’d raised her elegant long fingers to her eyes, narrowing them ever so slightly at the smears of blood on her fingers. Normally she was so never so neat and careful, but today she’d be dammed if she got blood on her hands. Besides she’d just done them the day before, she’d walked right into town and down to the nearest shop that had been available to give her fingers a nice scrubbing. People never understood how frustrating it was getting blood, skin and guts under your fingers, it wasn’t revolting, just annoying, and it sometimes ended with a snapped fingernail. So Scout had gone to the trouble to ensure that her normally short-cut, dirty fingers were clean, but the boy she had killed had ruined it, and in return she had kicked his dead body a few times letting her frustration out on that pathetic meat suit.

Everyone had those days where they just didn’t want to get dirty. It was a hard life murdering people, but like any job it had so many pleasures that it never become boring. Today when she had gone for a walk she hadn’t killed anyone, which was rare in itself. She normally liked to kill with her brother, Kaiser, her twin, like her, had a fascination with ending people’s life, but unlike her, his fascination was far too dull. He did it nice and quick whilst she loved to play with them, she loved making them scream and she loved hearing them cry and beg for mercy. Her favourite part, by far, was when they did cry for mercy, she’d step away from their bleeding body and she’d pull out her most sympathetic expression, she’d talk to them and convince them that she was going to let them go, and then she’d get out her knife and carve their heart out of their chest. Oh the look on their faces! It was simply priceless; it was like being betrayed by a psychotic nut-job had never crossed their minds. People were just so stupid.

Wiping her hands on her pants she tried to get off the last few traces of blood. She’d been playing with her jars of blood, readying them for the next prank she was going to play. Normally, she wasn’t one for pranks, they were far too main-stream, and no one talk them meaning behind them seriously, but this one had been an idea she’d been unable to resist, and thus she had spent the past few days getting more and more blood. She had cat blood, dog blood, bird blood and even human blood. It was delightful! Scout gave her hands a list meaningful look, her siblings would not see the blood, the only person close enough to her at the table was Kaiser and if he noticed she doubted he’d say anything, they both were, after all, as crazy as the other. No, no that was not right, she was much better at killing then he was. Of course she was, she practiced every day and practice made perfect. Skipping down the stairs she strolled into the dining room before seating herself down beside her lovely twin. As always she smirked at him, before flopping ungracefully into her chair. She sat opposite her brother Kellan, the one that had a thing for sleeping with people. It was disgusting really; he didn’t even have the sense to kill them after using them. At least Scout did. She always got rid of her toy’s after playing with them, it was a wonder their mother never berated him for the child he was, leaving his toy’s always laying around.

Maybe she’d be the ever good sister and clean up after him. Oh, she could ask Kaiser to help and the two could go and finish them all, maybe he could have a play with them beforehand. She eyed her twin thoughtfully, yeah; she’d bring up the idea after dinner. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for her brother. As ever their parents spoke would constituted to them as some form of ‘grace’, Scout really wasn’t sure and as always she refused to listen. She hated how her parents were set on them marrying people. All she wanted from life was killing, murdering and some more killing, what was so hard about that? Picking up her fork she ignored the food in front of them all, instead she awaited the first person to start a conversation that would surely end in a fist to the face. Grinning to herself she stabbed her napkin, she tore it down the napkin, pretending in her mind that it was the body of a baby. She could see the way the prongs sunk into its flesh, and as she pulled the way the blood bubbled to the surface. Her eyes flashed wickedly and within moments there was hardly a napkin left. Almost wistfully she put the fork down, her eyes roamed around the roam, a cruel smirk lighting up her lips as the conversation started.

It was a sad excuse for a conversation, but regardless it got the ball rolling and the fists ready to go into full throttle. Kaiser Fray turned to his twin, before whispering lightly to her. She could hear the smirk in his voice and she felt her own tug onto her lips, nodding her head to what he said. She had no doubt that was what was going to happen. “What do you think will happen when I do this?” Reaching forwards Scout wrapped a thin hand around her spoon, picking up a piece of corn she placed it on the spoon. Grinning at her twin she turned away before flinging the piece of corn at her nearest sibling, which just happened to be Pillar. This time she looked at Kellan, and raising an eyebrow she said in the most innocent voice a sadistic killer could do, ”it’s good corn.”

I'm waking up to ash and dust
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust
I'm breathing in the chemicals
I'm breaking in, shaping up,
then checking out on the prison bus

eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris
RP Tutor

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:.c a l l.: us what we are // (fray family) Oct 19, 2013 18:05:18 GMT -5

Post by eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris on Oct 19, 2013 18:05:18 GMT -5

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Pillar Fray

regrets collect like old friends
here to relive your darkest moments
i can see no way
i can see no way

"No, it's fine. I understand, Corran. No, you don't have to come over here. I can handle it. I know I can," I say into the phone, closing my eyes with an inward sigh as my last chance of escaping the ever so dreaded Thanksgiving dinner has been shot in the foot.

It's been an annual occurrence that, come Thanksgiving, I flee my home and enjoy a peaceful ~~and giggly~~ and awkward dinner with Corran Devereaux and her family. It's not that I don't hold some affections for my family, but as the years have passed, I have found myself more and more sick and tired of the constant abuse that they attack me with. Snide comments, food flung at my face, and stares that show nothing but pity towards me are all that ever await me when I can't find a way out of these family dinners, as if I didn't already pity myself enough.

Corran's elder sister, Addison Devereaux, had already invited her close friend, Pyrite Shore ~~(how Addison befriended such a girl is beyond my knowledge)~~, to enjoy dinner with the family, meaning that the guest slot was filled and I was now forced to enter Hell with nothing but a white, silken dress to protect me.

Corran had kindly offered to come and keep me safe, but for some reason, I want to do this on my own.

[/color] If I am ever to prove to my family that I am not just some easily broken girl who can be shattered over and over, I have to fight. I'm a fighter, not a puppet.[/i]

"I hope you have a great day, Corran. I'll call you tomorrow, if I don't end up getting mangled, I tease with an awkward laugh. "Bye, Corran." I hug the phone to my chest for a minute or two with closed eyes, before sighing outwardly and placing it on the receiver. I walk into my restroom and make sure I look presentable. A silvery-blonde ponytail hangs over my shoulder, and a simple white dress made of a silken fabric and a pair of white flats make up my attire. With a simple nod of my head, I inhale and make my way downwards into the land of no return.

______________________

"How long do you think it'll be until an argument breaks out?" asks Kellan, my brother. He says it with a certain pleasantry, which causes me to smile and chuckle to myself. Out of all my siblings, though he is stubborn as hell and has a fiery attitude to match[/color], he is the only one who does not relentlessly harass me.

"I don't know, to be honest. Considering the fact Justice probably has his prettiest and tightest panties on, however, I'd sa-," I attempt to tease, before a condescending and awful voice enters my ears.

"So, Pillar, how's training been?" Justice starts, cutting into a slice of ham with that smug look of his. "Not letting anyone hit you too hard on the head again, are you?"

I purse my lips, my fingers that were previously allowing a knife to slice through a leg of turkey go rigid. I stare out for a slight moment, before tensing my jaw and looking at Justice. "It's actually been going rather good, Justice. Don't worry, no one has hit me hard enough as to damage my face so bad that it would look as awful as yours. Thanks for asking, though," I say in a chipper manner, both proud of myself for fighting back for once and letting that little annoyance know that he is most certainly not[/color] the most handsome guy in the district. I look to Kellan, laughing aloud as he scoffs at my tease. Maybe, just maybe, I could hold my own toni-

"What do you think will happen when I do this?"

I can feel something hit my cheek, and I look down. A piece of corn rests upon the table and a laughing Scout looks at me. I look away quickly, my shoulders going rigid and my tongue feeling swollen. Don't say anything, I think to myself. Just finish your meal and go.[/color]

"The corn is great, isn't it? I can hear Kellan say to Scout, before scooping up some mashed potatoes in his spoon. "Have you tried the potatoes?"

I bring my arm out quickly and grasp his wrist, aware of what he plans to do. "Kellan, don't do it. She's not worth it," I say tiredly, as if I've just ran laps around the Training Center. I'm pathetic. One rude comment and a piece of food to the face and I'm already feeling helpless and weak.

I stand up, deserting my food and starting to walk away. "I'm... I'm not hungry," I say with closed eyes as I continue to walk, before stopping in my tracks as my eyes flash back open and memories flood into my mind.

Justice condescendingly insulting me every time we come in contact.

Scout throwing various things at me every now and again in an attempt to piss me off.

Mother and father belittling me like a ignorant child.

Being tripped in the hallways, being pushed down the stairs, getting cut by the silver tongues of my siblings...[/color]

I whip around, my ponytail slicing through the air. Today is the day I take a stand.[/color] "I want all of you to listen to me, and I want you to listen closely. Ever since I was a child, each of you have treated me like utter shit. You act as if I'm nothing just because legitimate Fray blood does not flow through my veins, but have you ever stopped to think about the fact that if anyone in this damn house is worthy or good enough that it'd have to be?" I spit out while tilting my head, circling around the table with an emotionally-strained face.

"You're all fucking mental. Sure, I've heard that crazed tributes go well in the games but fucking come on! Justice, you act as if you're the hottest thing to enter District 1 when, in all reality, you're a big-eared little prick who would have his so-called perfect face ripped to shreds if he entered the arena. Then there's you, Scout, who I don't even think I need to make clear is mental. You know, you should really ask Justice for styling tips, because you look like such trash that it kills me. I'm the garbage of the family? At least I have the decency to look halfway presentable!"

I continue walking along the table, my shoulders beginning to shake as I resume vomiting out more and more words. "Maddox, you act as if you're king of the mountain when Ripred knows you're just a hotheaded asshole, and Kellan you-," I pinch my nose instead of continuing and force myself to stop the emotional and raspy ranting that drips from my lips. I walk to the door, biting my lip as my emotions continue to show up on my facial features. "All I want is for all of you to stop treating me like shit. None of you are perfect, so why the hell am I the only one who is called out on their flaws? Did you know that most District One victors are females? Guess what I am? Did you know that all of our latest victors have stone-related names? Guess what pillars are made of? Did you know our most recent victor, Opal Shore, was adopted? Guess what I fucking was! Go ahead, try and make me feel like I am nothing. But do yourselves some favors, go look in your mirrors and fix your own damn flaws. I'm fucking done."

I turn and exit the room, fleeing the house in a fit of rage and anger. I do not stop by Corran's, nor do I stop and rest at a bench. I keep running and running and running... I don't know where I'm going, but if this world in which I live is crafted completely out of all of my flaws, I'll be running for a long time.

I'm not afraid, I say in my head.

I'm not afraid.[/color][/justify][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

and all of the ghouls come out to play
and every demon wants his pound of flesh
but i like to keep some things to myself
i like to keep my issues drawn

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