Playing Hooky with Affronted Dignity {Overseers vs. Mutts}
Jul 22, 2017 12:23:36 GMT -5
Post by * on Jul 22, 2017 12:23:36 GMT -5
[presto]
[/presto]
[/presto]Venom ran through his veins. The poisonous toxins seemed to make his body feel heavy and sluggish. Pain was an understatement as the light of day turned to the pinkish hue of a fake sunset. He scowled at the duo across from him. His demeanor had meant to hide the weakness spreading throughout his body and with silence came the fact that it would end one way or another. Wendell wasn't here to die. He had set forth to make it miserable for every other tribute he came across, yet the two sitting in front of him were the only ones he deemed to be loyal, for the most part. Confusion set up on his face as he contemplated the idea of their loyalty and his own.
"Why trust me?" He whispered in an uneven breath. He wasn't sure if they heard him or not, but he wasn't going to stay to find out. Usual sleeplessness was overcome by exhaustion, which he could only figure to be the work of the poison taking over his system.
"I'm going for a walk." His statement needed no response as he stood and took his leave.
The tinkering of a parachute caught a few minutes later caught his attention. He looked up. The blurred vision of the token set his balance off and he stumbled to the ground. The parachute, landing not more than a foot away from him. He slowly reached for it, taking it into his hand. The ingredients inside was a simple vial and needle in which he took in hand. "What do.. I do with this?" He questioned. His speech slurred and uneven. With great difficulty, he finally managed to fill the syringe with the liquid and with hope of a better life, plunged it into his skin -releasing the antidote and finding refuge on the bank of the beach. His vision going from blurred to slipping into a light slumber.
"What are you doing to him, Charles? You can't hit him for that? It was a shirt." An elderly man pointed a finger at the child, no more than six. "He's a child. He was just defending himself."
The enraged man kept the belt in his hand. "It doesn't matter. He ruined the shirt. Do you know how long we had to save to get him that shirt? It cost a lot. We spent a lot of hours in the dark, digging dirt and scrapping up coal just to get him something that wasn't a hand me down, Lukas. He has no respect -"
The young boy, tears running down his face kept himself hidden beneath his hands. His body quaking and welts angering the skin on his arms. The corner was his refuge, thinking that if he kept himself in a ball, that the lashings wouldn't be much worse. He kept his shoulder pressed against the wall, pushing as hard as he could. He willed for it to cave in so he could escape.
"He fought back against that bully and you would punish him for it? Wendell, get up. Go to your room." The elder man growled, stepping in front of his own son. "Charles, leave. You won't hit your boy again. Do you hear me or so help me I'll do the same shit you're doing to that boy."
Wendell's body unfolded, his tear stained eyes looking up to the man defending him and the man that was supposed to love him. "He deserves it. He should have won -" His mind whirling with confusion on who to listen to. Both of them his authority, but the one keeping the belt off his skin was the one he sided with. He crawled pass the two, escaping into the next room, shutting it with the lock latching almost immediately.
"I do good. I'm bad. I do bad. I'm bad. I'm sorry I'm bad, daddy - I'm... not sorry." The innocent words echoed into his mind and in whispers over and over until he believed himself.
Music blarred into the night sky, startling him awake. Groggy, he caught the tail end of the anthem, seeing the face of some boy he barely remembered in the training center. Pain no longer deemed his body valuable. "Not sure what that was, but thanks."
Wendell stood upon uneasy feet and thus another tinkering caught his attention. This time, he was not at all weary to catch such a large object and in his hands, a flavorful smirk attempted to turn his attention to where he had came from in search of his allies again. "Someone likes me out there. Too bad the other tributes do not. This weapon is beautiful. Definitely a lot different than a shovel, that's for sure."
By the time light had began to flood over the area, he managed to find the bodies of his allies awaiting his return, it would seem. His voice sauntering out in a deep malicious tone. "Guess who is taking the role of king seriously now, eh Cam?" He teased. "Looks like we'll get to test out the theory... " Wendell pointed behind Wal while the grip on his new weapon took the lead.
"Why trust me?" He whispered in an uneven breath. He wasn't sure if they heard him or not, but he wasn't going to stay to find out. Usual sleeplessness was overcome by exhaustion, which he could only figure to be the work of the poison taking over his system.
"I'm going for a walk." His statement needed no response as he stood and took his leave.
The tinkering of a parachute caught a few minutes later caught his attention. He looked up. The blurred vision of the token set his balance off and he stumbled to the ground. The parachute, landing not more than a foot away from him. He slowly reached for it, taking it into his hand. The ingredients inside was a simple vial and needle in which he took in hand. "What do.. I do with this?" He questioned. His speech slurred and uneven. With great difficulty, he finally managed to fill the syringe with the liquid and with hope of a better life, plunged it into his skin -releasing the antidote and finding refuge on the bank of the beach. His vision going from blurred to slipping into a light slumber.
"What are you doing to him, Charles? You can't hit him for that? It was a shirt." An elderly man pointed a finger at the child, no more than six. "He's a child. He was just defending himself."
The enraged man kept the belt in his hand. "It doesn't matter. He ruined the shirt. Do you know how long we had to save to get him that shirt? It cost a lot. We spent a lot of hours in the dark, digging dirt and scrapping up coal just to get him something that wasn't a hand me down, Lukas. He has no respect -"
The young boy, tears running down his face kept himself hidden beneath his hands. His body quaking and welts angering the skin on his arms. The corner was his refuge, thinking that if he kept himself in a ball, that the lashings wouldn't be much worse. He kept his shoulder pressed against the wall, pushing as hard as he could. He willed for it to cave in so he could escape.
"He fought back against that bully and you would punish him for it? Wendell, get up. Go to your room." The elder man growled, stepping in front of his own son. "Charles, leave. You won't hit your boy again. Do you hear me or so help me I'll do the same shit you're doing to that boy."
Wendell's body unfolded, his tear stained eyes looking up to the man defending him and the man that was supposed to love him. "He deserves it. He should have won -" His mind whirling with confusion on who to listen to. Both of them his authority, but the one keeping the belt off his skin was the one he sided with. He crawled pass the two, escaping into the next room, shutting it with the lock latching almost immediately.
"I do good. I'm bad. I do bad. I'm bad. I'm sorry I'm bad, daddy - I'm... not sorry." The innocent words echoed into his mind and in whispers over and over until he believed himself.
Music blarred into the night sky, startling him awake. Groggy, he caught the tail end of the anthem, seeing the face of some boy he barely remembered in the training center. Pain no longer deemed his body valuable. "Not sure what that was, but thanks."
Wendell stood upon uneasy feet and thus another tinkering caught his attention. This time, he was not at all weary to catch such a large object and in his hands, a flavorful smirk attempted to turn his attention to where he had came from in search of his allies again. "Someone likes me out there. Too bad the other tributes do not. This weapon is beautiful. Definitely a lot different than a shovel, that's for sure."
By the time light had began to flood over the area, he managed to find the bodies of his allies awaiting his return, it would seem. His voice sauntering out in a deep malicious tone. "Guess who is taking the role of king seriously now, eh Cam?" He teased. "Looks like we'll get to test out the theory... " Wendell pointed behind Wal while the grip on his new weapon took the lead.
Wendell Attacks the Crocaconda with his shiny 'Beast' (glaive)
ZPnicqASglaive
[13099 -- Deep Gash on Right Thigh -- 8.0 damage +1 (blades) ]glaive
![Cam Dialate [tribsit] Avatar](http://storage.proboards.com/2628686/images/gksOYRFrJoiczorFEH0g.png)
