we'll never get { o l d } // Aetherians

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Stare
Retired Staff

3,105 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 5, 2024 11:29:31 GMT -5

and i will hold you tight / like the moon in the arms of the sky

we'll never get { o l d } // Aetherians Feb 28, 2014 21:06:15 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Stare on Feb 28, 2014 21:06:15 GMT -5

{ chapter the tenth }

we're told, we're told, we're told
we'll never get old
so don't you ever show them
show them our bones

When I lick my lips they taste like blood and ashes. My nose wrinkles and I turn my head as we walk, spitting in a very unladylike fashion off to one side. The back of my hand comes up to wipe my mouth but only succeeds in smearing more crimson across my face. I grunt in frustration. Stupid bison. Its blood practically coats me, plastering my hair to my neck and staining my clothes black. My allies are no better off - Soap sports a lovely new gash in his armor, Claude is just as soaked in scarlet as I am, and Lyric's muscles are tight against the pain of her fresh wound. My heart twinges in sympathy for the three of them, if only because I know they're hurting more than they let on. Bloody stubborn. I can't help the hint of a smile that plays at my lips, though. Like me. They'll go on like this for hours if I don't put an end to the madness, so after just a few more steps I drop my bag off my shoulders and cross my arms firmly over my chest. "That's it," I announce, stomping one foot like the spoiled little girl I'm not. "I refuse to go another step. This is torture."

I don't mention the fact that out of all of them I'm probably in the best shape, instead frowning down at the mess of green and red-black I'm wearing. I mutter something under my breath and peel it off. Though the normal uniform underneath isn't much better, the bloodstains at least aren't quite as obnoxious. Making a face, I drop the green pajamas on the ground and kick them away in order to emphasize my disgust. To the viewers I'm sure I look like a perfect brat right now. Good. I couldn't care less what they think of me now. I drop to the ground, feigning exhaustion.

In truth my veins are buzzing with energy. We’ve been walking for what seems like ages but the adrenaline of the fight never seemed to leave - even now my upper back is tense, preparing for an attack from a phantom tribute or another disgusting mutt. To distract myself I focus my attention on Lyric, gesturing with my head for her to come sit in front of me. “Get over here, Blondie.” My lips tilt into a half smile. “Let’s patch you up, yeah?”

don't you give up on me
don't you give up on me
'cause you're all i got
and time won't stop

[nyte]
Head RP Tutor

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Pronouns: he/him
last seen Nov 15, 2024 13:09:48 GMT -5

oof

we'll never get { o l d } // Aetherians Mar 1, 2014 15:25:48 GMT -5

Quote

Post by [nyte] on Mar 1, 2014 15:25:48 GMT -5

{Unforgivable }

x x x x

A small whimper escapes me, the throbbing within my chest only worsening with each passing beat. I do not know how well I am hiding such excruciating knives, a shattered bone, that pierces the skin above my shoulder. (Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry). The fact that yet another life had been taken by our hands is long forgotten within pain's grasp. It chokes me, so much so that I couldn't think of anything but. I was glad that thing was dead. I was glad it couldn't hurt Savannah or Claude, even Soap anymore.

For them I would take this pain.

That's it. her feet brace the ground in a stubborn fashion, reminding me of childish disputes which seemed so far away. It draws a small smile across my lips, in turn the pain becoming less than unbearable. I refuse to go another step. This is torture. Tell me about it.

She pulls the stained pajamas from her shoulders, kicking them away in an ode to spoiled children anywhere. I give nothing but a nod, slumping to the ground with a clumsy thud. My arm is pulled tightly against my abdomen, desperate to keep the broken shards from moving as much as I could. Sweat runs down my face, leaving a smooth trail down the blood which lingers upon my pale profile. (Don't focus on the smell)

I wonder vaguely if the cameras are on us right now. What those who see me think as I collapsed upon the cracked floor, holding back the tears that cause such uncomfortable pressure behind my eyes. And I wonder vaguely if I care. Come on Blondie. her tone is always so sarcastic, yet how endearing it has become. Let's patch you up, yeah? I give a small nod, making my was over to the girl with the long, brown hair. I recall the lessons which I had been taught so wholeheartedly, looking for the materials to form some sort of sling. "Thanks." my voice is hoarse, barely having been used spare panicked screams. "It... it means a lot."

Last Edit: Mar 1, 2014 18:02:59 GMT -5 by [nyte]

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n