lost in the mystery {open}
Nov 23, 2018 11:35:22 GMT -5
Post by Knuckles on Nov 23, 2018 11:35:22 GMT -5
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All my lifeBeen running from a pain in me
A feeling I don't understand
Is holding me down
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Time has no meaning especially when he's locked away inside these walls with nothing to do. He's a prisoner not only of the world these crooked gamemakers threw him in, but Faux's a prisoner of his own mind. Memories from long ago fly so freely, yet he struggles to remember the simple things like what he ate for breakfast or the names of the people joining him.
The tributes are nothing more than a bunch of blank faces, and it's hard to even look at them trying to remember where they came from or how they even got there. But it's not so lonely anymore.
He hasn't said a word to any of them even the kid he saw himself with on the screen. His name is so far away, and it's frustrating. Faux digs through the depths of his mind trying to remember. Trying to break the chains that's keeping his sanity locked away, but the name just won't come. His face is true, and he vaguely remembers talking to him inside the games.
They fought together.
But none of that matters anymore.
A heavy sigh leaves his chest as he wanders aimlessly with Harbinger in tow around the room. It's become a habit since the last several hours he's done the same thing over and over only stopping to take restroom breaks and for food. Sometimes he wonders how the floor hasn't gave way to the same motions over and over, but right now nothing rests on his mind but getting out of here. There has to be a way. They can't keep him in here forever -
Can they?
More and more have joined, and sometimes Faux sits at a table in the dining area listening as surgeries go on. It's interesting hearing what's being said, but it floats through one ear and out the other before any of it really sticks.
The throbbing in his head has gone away, but the pain is still there. It echoes through his mind, and the more he walks the worse it becomes. Anything is better than sitting down and doing nothing. Chronic headaches plague him, and breaking free of those chains may take an entire lifetime if this is even real.
Faux haults in front of the screen. The hunger games are playing just like they've done since he found himself wandering through this place. Some scenes are playing on repeat, and he wonders the significance of them. Children think they're murdering people, yet like Faux, find themselves waking up in prison.
None of it makes sense, and it probably never will.
Taking a seat in front of the giant screen, Faux carefully places his stuffed brother beside him. Perhaps the games will have the answers, or maybe he'll never find them. Seems simple, but perhaps in time this world will casually fall into place. If anything, at least watching people fight is a form of entertainment despite how dispicable it is since it's better than doing nothing.
table by kaplan