All I Need Is Home :: [Tryst + Sampson]

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L△LIA
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All I Need Is Home :: [Tryst + Sampson] Feb 4, 2015 7:29:26 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Feb 4, 2015 7:29:26 GMT -5

TRYST CAGE

the nights are getting shorter
i don’t know where they go
and i am getting older
and it's starting to show

That Antoinette chick is fucking psycho. "Fucking psycho!" I wail into the ear of the mere mortal blessed enough to have me leaning on her shoulder as I pause our journey to — I don't know, we're going somewhere and if I'm along for the ride, it must be somewhere glorious — and puke a rainbow across the sidewalk at our feet. It's blue and pink and pretty like gasoline swirling in a rain puddle, except with congealed bits floating around in it, because I'm a substantial man. (Half dissolved pill capsules? Glow-in-the-dark Capitolite cocktails? Lunch leftovers?) No weak-ass rainbows coming out of this mouth.

All I wanted tonight was to get my party on, so I went down to some abandoned warehouse on the south side of town where I'd heard a secret society was throwing a rager. That's supposed to be a good time, am I right? Of course I am. And for a while it was great. First thing that happens when I walk in the place is some guy I don't recognize tells me I've got gorgeous eyes and that I deserve a drink for that, pushing his glass into my hand. I was just like: I know. The world was clearly working fine until that psycho found me.

"Antoinette," the name is a curse on my swollen lips, dried blood crackling in the corner as a groan hallelujahs out from my sore lungs, "crazy bitch."

Not the Victor. Well, her too, obviously, but her sister is the total headcase and not only because she talks like radio static or whatever. I was just dancing and suddenly I was kissing her, because I'd lost my drink and found her mouth or something. She'd been popping some kind of candyland looking pills and so I took some because that's what less attractive people have to offer me and I wasn't trying to be rude, I was just trying to get a little out of my head. I figure, somebody trapped in a head as bad as hers must know the best ways of getting out of it and yeah. Fuck yeah. We both got really out of it.

Except — "She punched my face! My face! Look at my face!" — something went less than perfect and that's unfamiliar territory for me, so I didn't know what to do when she started flinging her fists at me. Everywhere: my shoulder, into my stomach, bruising up my ribs, stomping on my foot, and taking suckershots at my angelic face. The world stopped working fine. Sure, I could have used my god-strength to demolish her with a single blow, but she's a girl and I try my best to be a benevolent baller so I don't accidentally bring about the apocalypse by being too awesome. Even when — "It hurts!"

Despite being the innocent victim, I decided to let her put the blame on me, because I'm a gentleman in need of a bad reputation and a rap sheet. The meaning of my incredible life is bigger than psycho girls (I still jacked her candy stash on the way out though), but maybe taking a couple punches is worth it if I get to have some of that Peacekeeper siren action howling down the street just a couple blocks over. "Let's just hitch a ride," I slyly slur to the girl walking me wherever, "they're looking for me anyway. Win-win."

Last Edit: Feb 5, 2015 15:52:59 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte]
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All I Need Is Home :: [Tryst + Sampson] Feb 4, 2015 17:37:36 GMT -5

Post by maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte] on Feb 4, 2015 17:37:36 GMT -5

Sampson Cage

Every morning burns. A weight pressing itself into soft skin, slowly cracking every bone as I'm pressed further into the mattress. It hurts to open my eyes, it hurts to force myself into a standing position. It hurts to live when my life is so nearly over. (I cannot help but wonder just how my parents will take my tongue from me.) It's instinct now, to obey a harsh tone. Sit! My parents order and my feet collapse beneath me. Eat! They command and I take a bite. I'm rarely hungry anymore, I rarely feel anything anymore. As every hour passes I'm closer and closer to shrinking into nothing.

Because even that is a better reality than leaving my brothers and sisters, better than leaving Fee, in the claws of these tyrants while I'm shipped to the Capitol. With no voice and no reason to live. There's no escape either. As much of a person as the vase my mother knocked to the floor on her way out. (and about as broken.) Clean it! father had barked and I was on my knees within seconds, crumbled ceramic sinking into my palms. There was a smile on his lips as he disappeared into the District's winding paths because I was their pride. I was so ready to become an avox that they were counting down the days to my nineteenth birthday.

Clothes fall around my body, shirts having once clung to the curve in my waist wrinkling upon my abdomen. I haven't been eating (breakfast still sits on the counter with one bite taken out of it, even after the sun has set) haven't been doing much of anything but complaining to Fee and replaying what Attend had told me before his tongue was taken. I miss my big brother so much these days, his absence hitting me harder the longer he's been gone. Did he feel what I do in the days before his avoxing? The fierce need to protect our family without even the slightest chance to do so? Because only over my dead body will mother and father take any of their tongues.

Alas, I am already a walking corpse.

We're all falling apart at the seams. I grow weaker, Fee disappears, the others do whatever they wish. Maybe we were a family once but the sand has slipped through the cracks in perfect porcelain fingers far too quickly and I cannot contain them. It's why I'm not surprised to find Tryst stumbling down the street at god knows what hour, lips caked with blood and face swollen to an unattractive point. It's why I cannot keep a sneer from my lips as I rush over to my brother, clutching his shoulder and wrapping my arm around his waist. I can smell the booze and I can see it too, splattered at our feet. Had I eaten anything that day maybe it'd burned a path up my throat but I simply pull my younger brother around the mess because he's completely wasted and beat and mom and dad are going to kill the both of us.

I don't try too hard to keep the disgusted sighs contained as he wails and groans, painting a picture of the events having conspired. Leave it to Tryst fucking Cage to get into it with a victor family because holy shit they did a number on him. As hard as I try to remain a neutral force between feuds it's not hard to see why Fee's hands often form such crude insults behind his back.

The sirens only worsen a growing headache, my brother's bone headed suggestion earning a fist buried into his shoulder. "No chance in hell!" I hiss, walking as fast as I can manage without breaking into a run. "We're getting you home and sober and then I'm kicking your ass."

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

L△LIA
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All I Need Is Home :: [Tryst + Sampson] Feb 18, 2015 18:17:10 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Feb 18, 2015 18:17:10 GMT -5

TRYST CAGE

i don’t want to wake up lonely
i don’t want to just be fine
i don't want to keep on hoping
forget what i have in mind

Streetlights spit light into the air like clouds with lungs, glowing with a pulse as they expand and shrink back and undulate tirelessly in the dark. They're almost as pretty as my face, if I'm being totally honest, and I could probably stand and watch them be good-looking all night long if I weren't distracted by so many other things. A mission from god. Sirens of fated badassery. Some girl who doesn't even know how blessed she is to have me snuggled up all cozy and gorgeous on her arm. Lucky bitch.

"No chance in hell!" No, seriously. She clearly has no idea, but there's time for that yet. The realization of me never takes long. "We're getting you home and sober and then I'm kicking your ass." I can't complain too much, not when a bit of a chase is so rare. A novelty, if you will. Tonight she could become lightning in a snowstorm and it's been a while since I've laid down and spent an hour just rolling around making snow angels with someone... Okay, not that long if I drop the metaphors and talk about what I'm actually talking about, but streetlights know how to make a guy romantic and it really has been a minute since I've bothered myself with that kind of effort.

"Cute of you to be so worried about taking me home with you," my voice leers with flirtatious implications as my eyebrows waggle at the stars. I am such a motherfucking Romeo. Just suave as hell, really, as I take advantage of having an arm slung around her shoulders to twirl my fingers through her hair. Girls always seem to have nice hair, but there's something extra soft about hers tonight and a little bubble of audible contentment floats up my throat as I toy with the strands, conducting to the rhythm of the floating lights breathing all around us. "There are much more fun things to do with my ass though, I can promise you that."

Last Edit: Feb 18, 2015 18:18:37 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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