Knot telling you the future [Open for any]

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They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.

Knot telling you the future [Open for any] Jan 29, 2018 14:31:49 GMT -5

Post by * on Jan 29, 2018 14:31:49 GMT -5

Dymas Nyx
District 4

The stench of past victors remain no matter how many years go by. The aroma of dead tributes waft into my nose within the first few feet of my entrance. For me, the living was the lucky ones, but the dead were the ones that got off easy. The young kids that perished among the arenas never to kiss their first love or have a child of their own to watch. Most of them never even knowing that when they woke up, in a matter of weeks they would be among the clouds - or burning within the pits of the after life.

Momma T always made sure that my hands were never left idle too long and when I had time to run my mouth, I had time to train or to do something worth while. My existance on this earthly plain wasn't to be wasted at all and she made sure of it.

I had a purpose in this world, even if it was to die among the others so that one could live with luxury; not saying I didn't. I earned every little bit that I needed to and was a welcomed part of society among my peers and the numerous age groups. My only problem, I couldn't see my worth among them all because now I have been seperated from the only reason I existed.

Angel would be waiting for me back home, hopefully praying to the higher power that I do not risk my life for nothing as I've been known to do. "I'm a stupid and wreckless person." I catch myself saying under my breath in remembrance to the many times Cynthia had called me out on it - out of love of course.

Only now, as I approach the trapping and knots station, I begin to wonder what kind of web I should weave. What saftey net would be woven in my honor. "I'm pretty adept with making nets, but maybe you could teach me a little something more?" I task the trainer.

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Knot telling you the future [Open for any] Jan 29, 2018 23:43:02 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2018 23:43:02 GMT -5

Gillian Imberline

There were nearly half as many useful knots as there are tributes, and you intended to learn them all—if only because this was something that your little hands find easy. Back in district eight, you stitched all sorts of garments with your mother and father—this wasn’t so different. How satisfying to twist and twain the fibers between your nimble fingers; a clove hitch, a sheet bend, now a prusik. Hours passed, and for the first time since you’d set foot here, you felt as though the rest of the world had melted away.

Perhaps you wouldn’t be able to hold a sword, or keep time with those whose bodies could hurl yours over the edge of a cliff and then some. There’s so many older children you wonder if fate was particularly cruel, but remind yourself that there have been survivors just as young. But you don’t see yourself like them. You could learn to blend, to be a shadow. But you’re not quite sure you even have the strength to manage that, not for the days and days that it would require. The pressure in your stomach built, and you wondered if there was an edge of the world where you could walk off.

I'm pretty adept with making nets, but maybe you could teach me a little something more?

You’d seen the boy from four—maybe in the mess hall, or from one of the reaping videos. You’d gotten over your fear of them being able to hurt you here. Even if they might tear out your eyes in the arena, they wouldn’t let them do such things here. And so the steel came into your spine, and the moon back into your eyes. Now you noticed the little things about them, because you liked to stare, and to see them not as your competitors, but people.

“Bet I can tie one up faster’n you,” You said, and if you’d been back in district eight, the words would’ve surprised you. But here, you think—maybe I can be who I want to be. You hold up a little bit of your handiwork with a smile.

⚜