so, tell me. {swampwives}

thompson harvard - d2b - arc
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so, tell me. {swampwives} Jan 31, 2016 22:11:01 GMT -5

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Post by thompson harvard - d2b - arc on Jan 31, 2016 22:11:01 GMT -5

[presto]

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s o l .

A hum rang throughout the training center, the lights above them luminating the entire centre for where we could see the entire place without any problems. Stations would line along the walls and be dotted in the middle of the center occasionally where a trainer would wait, hoping and waiting for someone to take up the opportunity that would be the station that they were assigned to. Those stations were normally the ones that involved survival, the ones that involved figuring out what's good and not good to eat. The ones that would tell someone what were they to do if they were in the middle of the woods and had no shelter.

Those were the stations that got overlooked, though today it seemed that the art of knot tying would be something of interest for the male. Something that interested him, for a knot could possibly trap someone and leave them dangling from head to toe; a scarlet red color running into his head until the loss of blood that was all collected in his head seemed to be a bit too much; leaving them to pass out. He huffs slightly, looking around at the center that would have tributes dotted occasionally across the gym in all different places, the language of each skill trying to dance it's way into their minds to leave a never ending melody in which they'll remember. A tune stuck in their head to never be brought out. It was a never ending ballet that was on the very beginning of it's story.

A smile leaps upon his face softly as he succeeds in his knot, making him look around slightly and see the other tributes working. In the distance you could see a small male from two, aged fourteen along with the small girl from eleven.

The male wondered, he wondered what Luna did during her time in the training center. Did she find her time taken up with battle training? Time spent on the things that created a sinner, created bitter thoughts as soon as a body fell limp to the floor.

Did she spend time making herself trained to become a murderer?

Sol had been at the station that would teach one how to tie a knot with his district partner, Nell, for he felt best around someone he knew that he could trust. Sol felt best around someone, a person from his own home that had come here but not as a person through a crown. They knew how it felt, they had their own experiences in the footsteps that each of their tribute's had taken, are taking. They've been in the same spot as the Sol Shim and Nell Locke, as Tyler Westbrook and Saxton Hale along with Zeki Webb and Pixie Ruined.

They had all been in the same spot, a small pawn at the beginning of the ballet. Though there was no telling of how this ballet ends, for there are no spoilers, there are no hints to what fate that would come to them.

Looking down at the tribute next to him, blonde hair and all, he would speak to her.

"So," He paused, starting to work on the next not for a slight second before returning back to his question. "Tell me." Sol had an intrigued face planted upon it, rooted deep into his soul as he worked on his knot. "Tell me about your biggest moments in life, the ones that you remember as a child and throughout your days."

Show me your scars, Nell.

Show me your story.

get dunk't on

ali
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Ohana means family

so, tell me. {swampwives} Feb 2, 2016 13:46:34 GMT -5

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Post by ali on Feb 2, 2016 13:46:34 GMT -5

Astrid Shaw
{district two tribute}

.:: You're dripping like a saturated sunrise
You're spilling like an overflowing sink
You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece
And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink ::.

Astrid's thoughts were calm. The blonde stood, her neck crained to that violet lilac sky that arched overhead, void of stars and mood but instead filled with a swaying white cloud. The little bird looked closer and saw that the cloud she saw was not a cloud, it were more birds, white feathered creatures that usually screamed words out to her on the ground; they would sometimes shout nice things, memories of sorts, and sometimes they would shout bad things, trailing abuse after abuse after absuive word. Yet in this moment, the birds just flew, they danced gently in the sky, all as one in syncronisation; there was no conversation between them, no violence, nothing but peace. Calm.

Then Astrid stumbled, tripped, the little bird was bought back to reality as she almost fell across the floor of the training center with blinking eyes. Her stomach jolted for a moment, heavy and full of food from breakfast, as her feet caught on one another and for a moment she was falling but then one leg stepped out in front of the other and she caught herself, before she could fall any further, before she drew more notice to herself than she had the night previous.

"oh!" she exclaimed, half bent, staring at her toes as she regained her balance. Astrid often did not wear shoes, she much prefered it that way; she always had and she wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it was the fact that she were convinced that shoes were evil and that they would eat her feet or perhaps it was the feeling of dirt and mud and snow and rain between ones toes as they sprinted across the park. All Astrid knew was that she did not wear shoes.

"So tell me.." the girl heard a males voice close by, the sentance caught her attention and made the blonde tilt her head in the direction of the voice. There was a boy, perhaps about her age, lanky and awkward faced with brown hair; he were sat upside down, with a peice of rope in his hand. Perhaps he is trying to find his way down.. the girl thought as he watched his hands form a knot with the rope. Her brow furrowed as her gaze moved to the recipient of the conversation.

Her frown softened as she recognised the familiar face, sat upside beside the strange brown haired boy. It's the angel! The scene, them together, seemed very familar to the blonde girl but she could not quite put her finger on where she had seen them before. Her mind was beginning to spin, in fact, the whole room was starting to spin as she began to feel slightly light heade- then it suddenly clicked that the couple were not upside down that she was the one looking at them upside down.

Straightening herself, the blonde shook her head and suddenly everything became the right way up again. The blonde smiled brightly as she scampered over with her gangly, disjointed, tiptoed gait and plopped down beside the couple from five with a big grin on her face. After a moment of simply staring at the angel, before her blue eyed, unbreaking gaze moved to the boy with the knot in his hand. "So! Tell Me!" Astrid said gruffly- her mind was at it again, shooting words this way and that way from the void of above- trying to impersonate the boy beside her before she turned away from them and lay on her back so that she could still see the two of them from her new position.

"Well I remember pushing a teacher down the stairs at Primary school!" she said, a small smile- accompanied by that blank stare of hers- on her face, answering his question she had been sure had been directed towards the angel (Her mind did not care, the birds were singing now of memories a long time ago) "Primary means first but Prime is also derived from the word, but prime only accompanies numbers and 2 is a prime number so technically I am a prime number!"

thompson harvard - d2b - arc Loony mat

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”

mat
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so, tell me. {swampwives} Feb 2, 2016 20:01:38 GMT -5

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Post by mat on Feb 2, 2016 20:01:38 GMT -5

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Atticus Manor

I must admit, I learned to tie my shoes before I could read, and that's a big statement coming from an intelligent man such as I. It seemed to come as naturally as talking. You watch other people do it, and then you believe that you can do it too. My parents told me that I loved aglets at a child. I'd grab onto my parents' shoes and untie them. Eventually, when they got sick of it, they made me learn to retie them in exchange for being able to untie them.

They never needed to buy me slip on shoes. They always bought the cheapest pair of shoes, and they usually had laces. I guess being a pro-knotter made it a bit easier to master tying in the station I crouch in at the moment. There's several people here, but I never bothered to ask for their name or ask if they needed help. I've never really been a generous person as I've kept to myself in both mental and physical manner.

There's two people talking to each other in this station. One, a blonde woman without shoes. Another a lanky man, about my height or a tad bit shorter. I look at them, wondering what they're talking about. As I said before, I keep to myself. I don't want to eavesdrop only to hear that they are plotting my demise.

I look away to continue tying random knots. These are nothing like shoe laces, but rather making things to hold other items, such as traps, together. I don't find it that difficult, but I still struggle.

I don't mind, though. A little struggle never killed nobody.

made by ghosty

Loony
District Mayor

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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

so, tell me. {swampwives} Feb 2, 2016 21:33:11 GMT -5

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Post by Loony on Feb 2, 2016 21:33:11 GMT -5

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Nell Locke

Nell Locke was most surprised by how bored she was.

She figured that training would involve constant fighting, sparring and learning. She imagined gladiators with shields and swords clashing in the basement as the lions were slowly starved to make for the most entertaining show possible. She did not picture herself sitting on the ground, pushing rope into rope and staring up in horror at her eventual killers. The powerhouse tributes quickly distinguished themselves from the rest, the girl from one had a particular aura of danger to herself, and already Nell could feel her hands starting to leak nerves.

In fact, her whole body was wet.

Sweat was just one of the many side effects of heroin withdrawal, including her constant diarrhea, vomiting, and nausea. She supposed she could ignore her suffering if she wasn’t tying fucking knots, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Sully wanted to tie knots, and, frankly, she was too weak to do anything else. It was either ties these fucking knots or go sit on the toilet. (The bathrooms here are pretty nice)

Sully turned to her, his face full of interest and passion. He was pure, (oh so pure). He was brimming with chatter and flare and intelligence. He was ten times the human she was, and yet he treated her like a princess rather than the junkie she was.

“So, tell me, tell me about your biggest moments in life, the ones that you remember as a child and throughout your days.’

His question shocked her. Why would he want to get to know her when they would both be suffering side by side in just a few days? Did he not understand where they were? Friendships get you killed in these parts, and she had never had friends in the past, so why start now. Nevertheless, a loon saved her from the question.

The blonde from the roof had somehow found her way towards their party of two -three if you counted the weird boy from three behind them – and began to rant about killing her teacher or something.

She was off her rocker, that much had been clear on the roof. But Nell couldn’t help but smile as the bizarre little girl attempted to piece together a coherent thought. She was like an innocent doe, looking up at the cruel world with fantastically large eyes and dreams.

(Don’t get attached…)

“Primary means first but Prime is also derived from the word, but prime only accompanies numbers and 2 is a prime number so technically I am a prime number!"
(Too late)

Nell giggled, and perhaps it wasn’t appropriate to laugh at the mentally unstable, but she just didn’t care. It was endearing for the girl to be so open, so kind to all those around her. She gently pulled the girls hand, pulling her to sit with them at the station.

”Sully, this is… Ashley? Ashbury? Assturd… umm I’m not sure, but she’s from District 2,” she made the introduction carefully, painfully aware that Sully may not like the thought of being associated with a crazy person. But she would not cast the crazy away, and banish her to be on her own in this hectic world. (Ripred knows that she understands that pain)

In order to make them both more comfortable with the situation, she began to speak,

”I remember my brother, Desmond, the most from my childhood. He was the fiercest guard dog a girl could ask for,”

(No, NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Don’t open up to the enemy!)

”I miss him the most… well… I’ve missed him for a while, but... yea… I’ll cherish him for the rest of my days.” Her voice drifted off and panic set in. (Oh I shouldn’t have said that, I really shouldn’t have said that.)

”Oh how crazy we must look… A druggie, a crazy, and a dreamer,” she looked over her shoulder at the boy silently tying knots, ”and a mute, I guess.”

Music is a moral law.

^Credit to Thundy

thompson harvard - d2b - arc
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so, tell me. {swampwives} Feb 3, 2016 20:57:28 GMT -5

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Post by thompson harvard - d2b - arc on Feb 3, 2016 20:57:28 GMT -5

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s o l .

The male from District Five, broken and shattered felt bad for Nell. He pulled her along with him without even making sure if she wanted to do this, for they could be gladiators. They could be warriors sparring with their weapons pointed at each other, just waiting and watching for the first attack to be thrown. Everybody would be watching, just waiting for the moment that the first attack to be thrown where the battle would commence. Swords held hand in hand, pointed at each other as if they were confused on if the other would be friend or foe. Where all breaths would be held, watching closely as if they were to be looking for the slightest change in a picture for the next slide would show something completely different.

The female had seemed surprised by his question, Nell probably wondering why he was so focused on learning about someone when soon enough, if it came down to it, it might possibly be them facing each other in the final stage of this battle they fight. A blonde girl came towards them, if he remembered her district correctly she would be from District Two. Someone that would be normally labeled as a career, but this was a factor he'd already crossed out from watching her. She seemed childish and innocent, a doe in a way. Her eyes flashing this way and that as she mocked him in a way, he wanted to find himself laughing, maybe a small giggle would be better. The girl was cute, not in the way people would call someone cute through physical attraction, she was cute in the ways she acted and did her own thing.

The female, (What was her name?) would speak about prime numbers, something she learned in school and how she kicked her teacher down the staircase. It was a funny image, imagining a small girl kicking a lady or man down the stairs. He sure hoped that it was something worth watching, because it was something comical. She said she was a prime number, prime, pure. A giggle escaped Nell's lips, a pure sound that reminded him of a child's. A toddlers joy, a toddlers upraising as a small laugh would be brought out as they find interest in something, finding joy. (The purity in her giggle, the purity of the small group made it seem as if they were a small group of children in the form of an older being) He wanted to feel harmony, love in the best form and they shared harmony in a joy that most tributes seem to lose.

The girl is pulled along over, ever so quickly following after Nell as she is pulled along to introduce the girl that seems to be anything but normal; but he likes that. Not everybody is normal, not everyone will be the exact image that you'd hope them to be- and he liked it just like that. (Even he feels as if his stories are a forbidden dream, he is a dreamer never awoken from his slumber.) Her mouth opens, offering her own name in a confused jumble for who is what, what is the right name to place onto her? ”Sully, this is… Ashley? Ashbury? Assturd… umm I’m not sure, but she’s from District 2," The male smiled softly at the girl, waving gently as he generated a name in his head to call her himself.

"It's nice to meet you... Astrid?" He tilted his head, as if he were questioning the name itself before turning towards the girl from his home and listening to her as she spoke about her life.

”I remember my brother, Desmond, the most from my childhood. He was the fiercest guard dog a girl could ask for,” He nodded, feeling a slight familiarity to that statement. (Luna.) She drifts off, as if she were to be falling into a slumber. ”I miss him the most… well… I’ve missed him for a while, but... yea… I’ll cherish him for the rest of my days.” The girl from District Five that had come into the 67th Hunger Games flashed inside his mind. (Luna Shim, my friend and my warrior. My everlasting cry that I use to keep my mind going, to make me remember that I do have someone that cares. Dead or not.) He hears her speak, once more as she refers to the small crew they have. ”Oh how crazy we must look… A druggie, a crazy, and a dreamer, Nell looks over her shoulder. (A dreamer; someone who fights for the dreams that fill his daydreams and the dreams that fill his night.) She speaks again. ”and a mute, I guess.”

His eyes drift, taking a glance at the every single one of them.

A druggie, someone that's grown too horrified, too scared of the world to face it in it's raw form. They've found a better life stored inside such a small thing. A crazy, the lives of those surrounding her feeling imaginary. People seem to never understand what she thinks, they all see her as insane; crazy. A mute, his life forever engulfed in the thought of his mind. He speaks to himself, forever doubting his words being useful to those in his life.

A small group, most people would view it as an odd one.

"I don't think I'd change anything about this small group we have," He puts a smile on his face, 'Ma always told him to be the shining light in the group. Perhaps, that's the reason he got his name? "we're all broken deep inside, forever waiting for the day people recognize us as people." A small pause.

"We're all perfect, despite the world that wants to make us feel against that."

Bending down, he'd tie his shoelaces.

'Ma always said it bring him good luck.

get dunk't on