Languishing [Fiona/ Faux]

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

Languishing [Fiona/ Faux] Nov 28, 2018 20:11:11 GMT -5

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Post by * on Nov 28, 2018 20:11:11 GMT -5

It had been hours, maybe, since I arrived into this hospital of sorts? The darkness just won't leave me no matter how hard I try to open my eyes, but the pain - oh the pain! It hurts so much to even try to move my eyes beyond this darkness and the longer I had laid there in that bed, the easier it got to explore my wounds. Nothing in my body felt sore except for a twinge in my back, but that was nothing. The burning sensation in my hand tore into my nerves with each movement, but my head is what hurt the most.

"You've lost your right eye. The damages was too significant and there was no saving it. As such, to prevent any more damage to the nerves, you will need to keep your left eye bandaged as well as you heal so you do not further complicate the healing process. Do you understand Ms...Zachariah?" The profound script he used for however many other people he's had to spell that out to just seemed too insincere. Maybe it was just me, but as my feet touched the ground, it felt weird not being able to see where I was walking. It felt like an eternal black hole.

"Carmen? Where is she? Is she here?" I ask, but the silence was too daunting to hear because I couldn't see his expression. I couldn't tell what his facial expressions were saying. "TELL ME. PLEASE. I NEED TO KNOW. I CAN'T SEE A DAMN THING." I scream at him. A hand touches my arm and I jerk back from him.

I want nothing but to cry and to hit him for the silence. The audacity of the silence for the blindness that I was given.

"Ms. Zachariah, Carmen is still in the arena." He finally tells me and I feel my heart still rapping aggressively against my chest and his hand guides me as I walk to... somewhere. I can hear the door open of sorts and my hands explore everything in front of me, afraid of him leading me to my death somehow in the confounds of a prison, perhaps. I am told that I can't leave this area and that there's no where that I can truly go to get out.

"Not that I can see to escape if I wanted to." I feel anger boiling up inside of my heart and I want to cry so much, but as my throat swells with acid, I have to force it back down. I can't cry. I haven't the means to. Grampa always said tears never solve anything. It certainly won't bring back my vision - or my family. I've lost them twice.

"Here is a guide stick for you. Use it as you explore your surroundings. Straight in front of you is the dining area. Don't trip over the chairs, please. We just spent hours trying to repair your wounds." I scoffed at him, but he cleared his throat. "To the right, is the viewing area for the games. You can go over there to watch, err listen, to the recaps and the current games. Directly on the other side of the dining area, if you go around it is the bathrooms. Immediately to your left and down is the sleeping quarters. You might want to find you a bed to go rest in for the rest of the night. You've had a rough day."

His voice goes silent again, and I turn expecting to see him staring at me, but instead my ears pick up on the footsteps as they get further and further away. My left hand captures the guide stick and I put it into the crook of my arm and a hand maps out the bandages wrapped around my eyes and the pain as I touch the right side.

I hiss.

"Damn it..." I've nothing left to do, but hope that anyone else in this place doesn't hold a grudge. The stick moves with my first two unsteady steps and then on as I try to blindly map out this holding cell vault. I have no idea what this place looks like or who it houses, I only hope that I can find my way.

Last Edit: Nov 28, 2018 20:14:26 GMT -5 by *

Knuckles
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Languishing [Fiona/ Faux] Dec 1, 2018 19:54:02 GMT -5

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Post by Knuckles on Dec 1, 2018 19:54:02 GMT -5

✵

Should've stayed. Were there signs I ignored?
Can I help you not to hurt anymore?
We saw brilliance when the world was asleep
There are things that we can have but can't keep

✵

Life isn't easy anymore. It's a trance. Repetitive motions that keep him going, yet Faux isn't sure where the broken record will land. It's been a few days at the most, but he's not sure how much time truly passed before he woke up. They snatched him from the brink of death leaving him a shell of a man he once was.

It's hard waking up every single morning only for the ugly walls to remind him he's a prisoner, and that not a single person here cares for him. The every man for himself mentallity still rings true even in the place where death cannot find him.

Boredom is real especially in a place with nothing to do except watch the games and eat, Faux finds himself roaming once more dragging the stuffed Harbinger behind him.

Yet he listens to the surgeons and nurses and everyone talking as tributes are taken into surgery. Some of the wounds sound horrible, but nothing can be as bad as taking an heavy weapon the skull. His heart hurts for them knowing the life they're about to enter. Knowing that he's lost within his own mind, and even finding an escape from this room they're all trapped in won't allow him the chance to escape the prison Shy placed him in.

One step after another, Faux walks from one side of the room to the other traveling the same path he's traveled many times before. It keeps him busy. It offers him a chance to travel to a realm of the unknown where happiness exists. A place where the birds carry each other around, and they pick each other up when this game of life brings them down. It's a peaceful place, yet he's slapped back into reality by the constant chatter coming from the screen on the wall.

Panem has nothing peaceful about it.

Discarding Harbinger in his bed, Faux turns making his way back out into the open. Sometimes it's nice being alone in a place with people roaming around, but the loneliness is gone. More are joining, and it's such a bittersweet moment until it all comes crashing down.

He sees her before it even registers in his mind. Her face bandaged up. A walking stick of sorts sitting awkwardly in the palm of her hand - she seems lost, and maybe Faux can help her find her way through this terrible place.

Friends come and friends go, and leaving her alone is probably what's in his best interest. People have left him alone, and he's extremely grateful for it.

A heavy sigh leaves his chest as his eyes lower to the ground, but it doesn't stop him from approaching her. A sense of familiarity crawls through his frantic mind. The blonde hair. Her scent -

Know her.

Rubbing the palm of his hands against the side of his face, Faux tries with every ounce of strength to find her name. He's heard it before, and it hasn't just came from the screen. He's been with her, and he remembers watching her place the jacket around him.

A single tear runs down the side of his face as his hands curl into fists.

Shy has ruined his life, but if it wasn't for the Capitol Faux would've been dead anyway.

It's all his fault.

A frantic heart claws at his ribs begging for an escape as he finally stands by her side. There's so much he wishes he could say. He wishes her name would fly from the tip of his tongue, but it just isn't there.

Gently Faux places a hand on her shoulder;

"H...h...h...help y..y..you."

Maybe she would understand, or maybe she would push him away forever.

lyrics: Linkin Park - One More Light
table by kaplan

lest we forget [the characters]

credit to Zoe

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

Languishing [Fiona/ Faux] Dec 1, 2018 23:50:57 GMT -5

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Post by * on Dec 1, 2018 23:50:57 GMT -5

I was dead this morning. As soon as something happened with my enemy, that person whoever it was brought that spear - some blade toward my face. I couldn't dodge it, but it kept someone safe. It kept Carmen away from danger and I'd do it again. I didn't have a life back home to return and winning the games would mean that my death would come. The capitol, for once, played a sick joke by stealing me away from the death that I actually wanted and forced me to endure the pain and torture of being brought back to life. It took hours to repair what Wander, they called them, and even a few more hours after the surgery before they let me wake. It was a quick recovery, they said and they didn't expect me to respond so well to the treatment, but I didn't have nearly as many injuries as I'm sure the others had, but that didn't mean this wasn't as traumatic to my soul.

Would I be able to find a way to still make death happen after I was brought back to life?

The idea played in my head when they took the morphling away and when I was deemed that the room would be needed for more cases to come in shortly. Eyes bandaged and no guide person to help me, they doctored and then released me despite my body wanting to convulse by the sheer hatred for what they'd done.

"I am a waste of space here. They should have let me die." The words were more mumbles that no one could hear as I took tiny, very fragile steps into my new home away from the arena. My lungs wanted to scream for some reason, my muscles fatigued severely bad. It must be a side effect of the surgery and the concotion that had stopped my system and just the emotional abuse my heart had to undergo.

The guide pole moved with my slow movements. I think that I was heading in the right direction to the beds, needing to lay down to sleep off some of the meds that still lingered. I wish they wouldn't have taken me off them so fast. "My eye..." I have to remember that it was no longer there. It was a void. No one would ever be able to look at me the same.

In the distance, I could hear footsteps of someone walking. My skin prickled with fear just thinking that maybe a few tributes were brought here the same way. They mentioned that Carmen was still in the arena but that didn't mean those that died before me wasn't already here. Were they alive then? Could Oliver and Faux and that one scary chick be here? I wanted to be happy but the thought of Faux brought sadness into my heart.

He had to be dead without a doubt. There was no way they could bring him back. The visual picture in front of me confirmed it assuredly. I had to cover him with the jacket because it was so violent. "Is someone there?"

I question as my senses began to take over but not before a hand touched my shoulder and the adrenaline coursed through my veins. The pole slipped from my grip, unable to catch it. "H...h...h...help y..y..you."

The voice was oh so familiar and it would be a cold day in hell if I didn't recognize it immediately. "Is it really you Faux? It's been.... three? Four days... "

I steadied my heart as best as I could. All the while, I began looking for the pole. It wasn't too hard to find it as it fell right at my feet, but then to blindly reach out to where his voice had been only moments ago, it had to be a trick? "I don't know if you can really tell but it's me, It's Fiona. I swear, I only dreamed of this for days - to see you again - but I can't see you. Are you really Faux?" My fingers danced through the air until It landed on his arm, and for once I didn't feel so completely numb. "Can you really help me because I felt so lost already."

Fiona Words: c98667
Others Words: e7cbbe

Last Edit: Dec 2, 2018 0:21:54 GMT -5 by *

Knuckles
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Languishing [Fiona/ Faux] Dec 25, 2018 16:19:24 GMT -5

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Post by Knuckles on Dec 25, 2018 16:19:24 GMT -5

For a moment nothing matters. Faux locks eyes with the girl he cared for. The girl he was afraid to have feelings for because the games steals them away, but she's standing before him broken. Yet he doesn't understand. It's hard living a life being the shell of a man he once was. Memory fails him, yet her face remains embedded in the depths of his mind forever. All he knows is she needs help as she's stumbling through the facility.

Words of encouragement used to fly freely from his lips, but even that's been taken away.

And it hurts more than anyone will ever know.

But before his mind has the chance to wander any further, Fiona's speaking, and it's in that moment he realizes who she is. The sound is so familiar yet so far away from anything he's heard in such a while.

"Is it really you Faux?"

From the moment he arrived in the vault, Faux has spent much of his time trying to figure out who he is, and where he came from. A life he once lived remains vivid. Each moment. Every painful memory. Everything comes crashing down around him. Nobody understands the feeling of being locked away in the mind. He's a prisoner of himself.

But before he has the chance to even answer, she's speaking more talking about how long it's been, yet she doesn't realize time has no meaning anymore. Seconds fly away before his hands can wrap around them. Even here in the middle of this place nothing changes. When he first arrived, Glamour told him when the lights over the cots would dim, but that is the only way to watch one day fade away and a new begin. Yet the times aren't alive. They're simply a figment of a man's imagination.

Fiona keeps going on, and she's touching his arm, and Faux's heart is racing within the prison cell. It's been so long since the axe broke through his skull damaging him forever in ways no human will ever understand.

Fatigue races through his body, and sleep calls his name, but helping someone. Reaching out to the broken. Giving Fiona a hand as she learns her new life is all he wants right now.

"F..F..Faux."

It's just a simple word, but he's acknowleding that it's him. That he heard her, yet the tears staining his eyes begin streaming down the side of his face. He has friends. He has people that care for him, but finding that safe place. Finding someone he cared for more than anyone in the world.

Oliver was another, but he ran.

"F...f...f..fol..follow me."

His words were quiet. Getting used to the pain, the reality of everything comes crashing down before him. There's no privacy in a place like this, but the least he can do is stay by her side until they're forced apart from one another.

A genuine grin spreads from ear to ear.

It's one thing being lost, but it's another being lost with a good friend by his side because now they're lost together and nothing will ever change.

credit to Tom <3

Last Edit: Dec 25, 2018 19:20:20 GMT -5 by Knuckles

lest we forget [the characters]

credit to Zoe