perpeteia [carter&faux&fiona]
Dec 4, 2018 22:19:00 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Dec 4, 2018 22:19:00 GMT -5
Get out of your head
the voices don't know what is best for you
in the pouring rain
I head the devil call me out
You should have died, Carter.
The voice in his own head gets louder and louder with every aggravating second as he sits there staring at the screen which flashes with tributes that still live. Still have no clue of the weight they'll have to bear once they perish to someone else's blade. Fucking hell, everything was fucked in this moment. All he can do is glare at the screen as he keeps his right ear towards the dining area. The positives of losing his hearing in one ear is that he can both ignore and slightly hear their words from his other ear. A silence that doesn't hum, except in his other ear as he holds his stance. Fiona. A girl who didn't know anything.
Carter had watched her call Auto a spawn of Satan as if none of them weren't already that. As if they hadn't threatened to take another's life in the games. As if they all weren't in this fucked world stuck on the idea of living meaning death of someone else. He had watched her cut into Lars' skin where Carter would have protected if he didn't play the hero in someone else's fucking story. He could understand her reasoning. He could understand the protection over someone else, but god, she still cut into Lars because Auto was a monster in her eyes. If Fiona wanted a monster, Carter could be that. If she really wanted to see some spawn of Satan, he could be that.
Fuck, he was already going to rot in hell once he dies.
Probably fed to some coyotes like his own death for an eternity.
Or god forbid, stuck in a prison with Glamour Kinkade's fucking smirk.
Carter had watched her the next day too. Carter had heard what she had said to Max. Carter had seen what Fiona's true fucking colors were. Despite everything, she was blinded by her own selfishness and he could get that, but fucking hell, you don't need to rip into someone. In the end, she wasn't worth anyone's time. And yet here he is, sat pissed off on this fucking chair that is both comfortable and uncomfortable. Fuck Glamour and his furniture for this feeling.
The corner of his vision is what caught him on the edge of his seat. Faux and Fiona coming his way, probably wanting to be mad at him. God, if they wanted to hate him, screw it. Faux had been here the longest with him. Faux had been a friend in a place of no understanding, but god, siding with Fiona hurt. Not that he didn't expect him to, but the fact that it feels like he was stabbed in the chest once more hurts so much more right now. All he can do is stand up and glare at them despite Fiona not being able to see. All he can do is give a smirk and his best 'fuck off' look that he can muster before he starts this.
"Awwwww looks like you lovebirds have come back for some more."
Eyes glancing over their shoulders to Parson stuffing his face with food. Good grief, the guy probably hasn't eaten in days. A silence fills himself before he crosses his arms over his chest to block the weakest part of his injuries. His chest pangs with pain that shakes through his skin, but he ignores it over the two. Fiona and Faux. Fiona, a person he could understand, but the sight of her makes him feel sick and like he wants to punch her in the face. Acting like she was the most selfless person to give up her food.
Fuck. He hates this feeling.
"Faux. I know she's your friend, but I have to say this."
Fingers tighten as he looks to the screen and back to the two of them.
"Feed me to the 'mutts' if you want Faux."
Fiona isn't someone he can look at without feeling his fists tense, but he holds himself tall and a good safe space between them. She knows he's there, most likely. She knows that he's mad. She doesn't know who he is, but fuck, he was a no one in everyone's eyes, so it didn't fucking matter. A glare sent to her despite her blindness now. A smirk still upon his lips as he speaks once more.
"Don't act innocent, Fiona. Don't pretend to be a selfless person. I'm Carter Laws, you know ally and friend to Auto, Lars, Max. You've done a lot more to me than you fucking think."
Carter stays still in his spot as he looks to Faux and gives him a frown that he keeps plastered on his lips as he looks back to Fiona.
"You know, Auto who you fucking called the spawn of Satan. Larceny, who you took away from Auto in order to punish her for fucking what? Being a brat in the training center? A pathetic excuse to clear your conscious of wanting to kill a human fucking being."
His hand begins to shake with the anger pulsing in his veins. The cards tucked away next to his heart as he takes a breath in and focuses back in on the two of them. All he can do is hold his ground. Two against one. A lost friend now and the person who split Lars and Auto up and calling human fucking beings pathetic and not worth time. He only speaks from his heart now.
"See I'm not even mad about you killing Lars or attacking Max. It's the games I fucking get it, but what gives you the right to call someone something so fucking rude. What gives you the right to say someone is not worth your fucking time. You don't know shit about anyone. You don't know their life's outside of the games. What gives you the right to decide their fate? What gives you the right to act like a fucking asshole to people? Nothing does. You aren't going to learn that and you'll have to live with that blood on your hands forever."
Is this what Mitchell felt like in the games? Is this what his legacy was supposed to be? Fuck he can't handle this.
"You know, I can understand how you felt. I can understand wanting to protect your allies, but instead you attacked them with the want to tear everything from them. If anything Fiona, you've torn everything from yourself. You attacked Max for your own selfish purposes."
A heart beat and they are all being played like a deck of cards for the capitol.
"If anything Fiona, you're not worth anyone's time. That's why I would throw you to the mutts if I had the chance."
A glance to Faux as he feels his blood boiling and he gives the guy a glare before he speaks once more.
"You can hate me if you want. Throw me to the mutts because I don't fucking care, but she deserves to know what she's done and have a fucking crash landing back to earth."
A deck of cards being played.
Mitchell Laws saved him once, but he wouldn't save him again.
I should be dead. She should be dead.
No one should be alive.
Except they were.
Fiona deserved every single word that he spoke and if that meant he was a fucking asshole, then so fucking be it.I finally feel okay
in the pouring rain
you say 'leave from the fog
inside my head'song: rain