knight in shining armour || mattio

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frankel
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call me jaded

knight in shining armour || mattio Oct 12, 2015 14:15:55 GMT -5

Post by frankel on Oct 12, 2015 14:15:55 GMT -5

[googlefont="Fredericka the Great:400"]

Lochiel O'Dea

Spitting out the sweat which trailed down into my mouth, I’d fight the aching muscles taking over my body. Just fifteen more seconds.Stretched out balancing on my arms and toes, I’ve been in this position for thirty second, a plank exercise. Supposedly it is meant to strengthen my core muscles but in my opinion, it just sends pain through my body.Three…two…one Dropping my arms, I’d land flat on the ground in a starfish position. Relief circulates my body, as the tense muscles are allowed to rest.Finally, that is over with.

Pushing myself off the floor, I’d wipe away the dust on my grey trousers. Looking around the centre, I’d decide to call it a day. I’ve been here for five hours; I think my body has had enough. Pushing open the doors, I’d head to the locker rooms, planning on having a shower.

Slipping away my clothes, I’d head to a shower cubical, with just a towel wrapped around my lower half. When I first started at the centre, I was always embarrassed to be half naked in front of all these praying eyes. My father forced me to strip down my top half and let the world see my chest. He says it helps me to become a girl magnet…but who says I want to be attracting girls?

Switching on the shower, I’d battle the temperature. Adjusting the dial, I’d finally beat it, finding the mid warmth that I enjoy. Allowing the hot water to sooth my back muscles, I’d escape into my thoughts. How would I ever tell him about what I like? I know he would likely disown me if he found out but would Genoa stick by me? I’ve always wanted to be like my sister. Such a confident, bubbly, intelligent girl; all the opposite to me. Genoa is the most talented out of us both but my father doesn’t see that. He just wants to push me; I’ve been pushed to the edge already. I’m already over the cliff face, holding on by one hand. I’ve gotten to my limit and he can’t see that. He is blind to us both.

Building up bubbles with a bar of soap, I’d rub the bar around my torso as it leaves the streaky white marks behind. Rinsing away the soap, I’d allow the pressure of the water to tackle any knots on my back. Despite it doing nothing to help, it still sends a pleasurable feeling in my body, a placebo effect to my aching muscles.

Exiting the shower, I’d sprint to my locker, the towel shielding my private parts. Drying away my wet limbs, I’d quickly swap the towel for my day clothes. Stuffing my training outfit into the duffle bag, I’d swing it over my shoulder, heading out of the changing room. Finally, my body is free from today’s hard work. Fortunately I have the whole afternoon to myself but I have yet to plan how I spend it. Maybe I’ll take a walk or browse the shops for any desirable goods.

Heading out of the centre, I’d follow an unplanned route to the stores; maybe I’ll take a scenic route just to kill the time.

For years I’ve hidden it from him, Genoa knows and being her usual self, she says just to tell him. Tell him and be thrown out of the house. Although she tells me that she will stick by me, if worse comes to worse. Despite holding a great hatred towards my father, a hint of me still loves him. And I don’t want to be the one who causes me and Genoa to just be thrown on the street, where would we even go?

Voices circulate the air, as it seems it is a busy time of the day in the District. It’s exciting seeing all the busy people as people watching has become one of my pass times. Catching my eye in the distance; two males. One seems to be struggling due to the other. Walking closer to the pair, I’d investigate, determined to split it up if there is a scuffle.

Dragging away the larger one by the collar of his shirt, I’d send a fist into his cheek. I’d have quickly identified to guy to be a threat to the other. A shock of pain runs through my hand. Damn it Lockie, you should’ve curled your fist tighter. Yelling at the guy, the shock of the punch sends him running away. I’d feel somewhat accomplished, I just hit a guy. Despite throwing such a weak punch, I saved someone. Turning to the victim, a smile would ascend on my face. ”I hope he didn’t hurt you?”

Last Edit: Oct 12, 2015 14:18:26 GMT -5 by frankel

mat
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knight in shining armour || mattio Oct 24, 2015 14:34:20 GMT -5

Post by mat on Oct 24, 2015 14:34:20 GMT -5

[googlefont="Reenie Beanie:400"]

eli darasim

---

”Sure, Father,” I mutter, slamming the door on the way out of my father’s house. I’m like his slave and he’s my master, he’d beat me if I refuse, and still abuse me if I am being obedient. I always do as he asks. Nowadays, I keep to myself and nod to his orders, which gratefully isn’t to try and work at the training center because he knows now that you can’t get me in there without kicking and screaming for help like a child against an abductor.

My jacket keeps my arms from being frozen. I’ve always been a gelid kid, skin and bones are all I have to my name. Even when I should be relatively warm, I still need a jacket to keep myself from shivering. It’s just another thing that makes me different, another thing that makes me wish the world could be more accepting. I wish I never had to prove where I stand because I will never get farther than weirdo that nobody wants to associate with. Even then, that’d be a huge feat for someone like me to actually reach.

I keep my head down, gently taking my glasses off of my face and the eye-scratching contacts into my eyes. It took a shit ton of chores and pleading with Chase to help Father consider helping me out, and I’m still running errands like these to show my gratitude to him for giving me something that isn’t a necessity for life.

{Mother, if you’d like to have a sane child by your side instead of remembering you were in a family of psychos, come back and meet me. I’d be glad to hide from him with you.}

I place my glasses in the pockets of my pants, hoping that they won’t break from any kind of impact I have with a solid. For once, as I walk through the somewhat vacant street, I realize that life wouldn’t be so bad if I was alone in Panem. People don’t get me as much as I get me. The ember that I try to light in my heart continues to be stomped out by pessimistic fakes. That is all these people are. Fake humans who hide their true identity with the masks of the norm. The norm is the opposite of me. Athletic. Outgoing. Funny.

I wish I could put on that mask, too, so I could hide who I truly am and be like the norm. It’s not that easy, if you couldn’t tell before. I’ve already been flagged as the creep that hates the games.

An arm grabs onto my shoulder and pulls me aside. A bigger man, almost doubling my size. Someone who truly is not wearing a mask either, but they are not being targeted as different. He pushes me against the wall, and all I hear is my glasses crack. Father isn’t going to be happy. Along with that comes a bang on the concrete wall with my head. Father has done that many times before, but his hands aren’t strong enough to make my head pound like this guy could.

I flinch as the predator’s arm releases from my body, and I’m preparing for another bang.

One. Two. Three.

I count to three in my head and then open my eyes to a second figure grabbing the teen, probably my age (maybe younger). The offender runs away, and I can only hope he’s a good guy.

I inhale as if it’s my last feeling of the cool, brisk air.

”I hope he didn’t hurt you?” a question runs out of the second character’s mouth.

I exhale. He’s okay.

”Uhh..” I put my hands in my pocket to feel a million glass pieces pierce into my fingers.

”I’ve felt worse, I guess,” I reply, hoping that he’s not just being polite for a short period of time.

{Mother, now would be a good time to grab me and take me back to wherever you’re hiding!}

---

frankel
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call me jaded

knight in shining armour || mattio Oct 26, 2015 8:13:07 GMT -5

Post by frankel on Oct 26, 2015 8:13:07 GMT -5

[googlefont="Fredericka the Great:400"]

Lockie O'Dea

Never have I really seen the point in career training. Yes it is necessary in case you get reaped so then at least you have a chance at coming out of it alive but wouldn’t it be better to hide from the games? It is just entertainment for the Capitol, they don’t care about any of the kids thrown into the arenas, they care more about the money they get from betting and the so called “peace” the rest of Panem deliver because of it. Really, it is just a massacre of a sport which has been idolised by the big powers with money in their pockets. Everyone has become blind to it and just follow along and don’t bother to change it. I wish I could change it, I wish I had a voice, the bravery to stand up to the Capitol. But how could I? I can’t even stand up to my father and he his nothing compared to the powers in the Capitol. I am just a wimp, a wimp with a bleak future ahead of him.

Biting at the skin of my arms, the ever creeping air of winter tries to break through the fall breeze. I’ve always enjoyed the cold; it seems the District slows down in the winter months. The weather brings all sorts of fun activities and it is a great excuse to get out of training. I have never liked working out during the summer months. Sweaty humid air, ready to kill anyone slightly un-fit. Really, it is inhumane to allow anyone to train under that heat.

Glancing at the boy that I had just rescued from the attack, I’d try and identify him; a stranger. He looks to be close to my age, maybe he is my age. I have never seen his face around the training centre before, which is probably why he got targeted in this stupid act. Many people do it around the District, especially the careers. Just because somebody doesn’t want to take on a life similar to their own, they believe that these people are useless, a waste of space; when I see them as heroes. Heroes that haven’t been grabbed by this popular fate that most kids in the District go through, heroes that are probably strong enough to stand up to parents like my own father. I’ve always dreamed about a life out of the centre but I know it is too late to step out of it now.

”I’ve felt worse, I guess,” The response falls from the guys mouth, following my question.

Having focused more on first aid in the centre, I’d be willing to patch up any injuries that the guy may have. After all this will be great practice for me. ”Are you hurt anywhere?” I’d ask before continuing to track down any small injuries that may lie on his body. My eyes would drop to his hand, shards of glass attacking the skin of his fingers; which I presume to be from his glasses.

Quickly pulling his hand towards me, I’d observe the pieces of glass that lines his skin. Jumping back to my past training, I’d try to find anything relevant to glass injuries in my memory. ”I could help patch this up if you want?” I’d offer, forgetting that he may not want my assistance.

I’ve always seen myself as a Good Samaritan, not one of these ruthless careers. If have to endure all this training, I want to put the skills I have been taught to good use, instead of beating up the weak citizens of the district. Soon I will be out of eligible reaping age and I want to pursue in some sort of important job and maybe a medic will be ideal for me.