blood in the water :: [ denali + annie // vt ]

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L△LIA
RP Tutor

3,574 POSTS

last seen Jun 24, 2019 15:25:10 GMT -5

BOOM SH△KALAKA

blood in the water :: [ denali + annie // vt ] Jan 31, 2019 16:45:46 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Jan 31, 2019 16:45:46 GMT -5

[attr="class","Denali1Container"]

[attr="class","Denali1Title"]I don't know what you've been told
But this here is not your home

[attr="class","Denali1Content"]

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Stop."

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Stop."

Sugar highs are not to be trifled with, as proven by the youngest of the Lyons girls running in circles around her sister, who refuses to give in to the demands of a screeching pixie-banshee regardless of the backlash. "Stop," Seville repeats with the unamused composure of a white wall. Flawless and yet also totally incapable of self-expression by nature. Rio continues wailing at the top of her lungs, twirling like a planet of chaos spinning on its axis as she orbits an unshakable sun.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Rio!" Peregrine slams both frustrated hands down on the keys of the grand piano, her conjoined twin yelping in surprise beside her. The crashing thunder of musical madness echoes from the cellar below to the tower attic three stories above, shaking every window and chandelier. "Seriously. Can you stop? Please!" They’ve been trying to work the kinks out of a tune they’re composing themselves, bickering every five minutes over major transitions and minor notes, neither of them willing to compromise their artistic vision. "Ripred!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Rio!"

"Stop," Seville continues to deadpan, staring straight ahead with such unflinching conviction that no one would even be able to tell that she had noticed Rio’s antics if not for the way the word stop punctuates each new loop of hysterics. A ruckus of enraged piano smashing begins competing with Rio’s screams for the title of Most Obnoxious Noise. Tallulah meekly taps her furious twin on the shoulder and tries to get a word in, but winds up coming across as little more than a silent film, mouthing an opinion that no one can hear and winding up so frazzled that she gets the hiccups.

Meanwhile their mother leans against the door frame of the dining room, not only watching with a complete and utter lack of concern over the actively devolving situation, but snacking on popcorn — alternating tossing a few pieces into her mouth and then tossing a handful into the air for Denali to attempt to catch in her own. "Come on! You’re not even throwing them at me!" Denali protests, dramatically waving her hands around to emphasize how deserving she is of pity, as if this karmic retribution isn’t exactly what she deserves. This is how you treat your baby girl, mom? So quick to forget how I was dead only a few months ago? How dare you use snacks as betrayal. Snacks are supposed to be sacred between us!

"You’re so bad at this!" Her mother teases, tossing a fistful of popcorn over her shoulder with a bemused shrug. It’s difficult to tell which one taught the other this particular power move. Maybe there’s a quiet joke about grapes somewhere beneath it all or perhaps this is simply the way things have always been in this household. There’s a pause as the matriarch of this collective insanity grins at her resurrected daughter with all of her teeth happily on display. Then she throws an arm around Denali’s neck, pulling her in close and smacking a kiss on the crown of her head. Denali laughs and leans in, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder while pointing at the living room riot and mocking Seville’s continued resistance to fully acknowledge it.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Stop."

Denali’s father rounds the corner from the other room, takes one look at Rio’s definitely-ate-an-entire-bag-of-lollipops blue lips and the civil war she started, and raises an eyebrow at his wife. Birdie? Do I want to get involved in... whatever this is? She and Denali steal a conspiratory glance at each other and begin unceremoniously pelting him with popcorn until the bowl is empty of ammo and he swoops forward to scoop his wife into his arms as a means of restraint. "Stopppp," Denali whines as they kiss, rolling her eyes and pulling a face, "it’s gross." Both of them know their daughter and her bug collection well enough to know that gross things are her favorite. The obvious truth is that she thinks her parents are cute, but —

"Stop," Seville insists once more and Denali points to her as supporting evidence. See? Even Sevy agrees that it’s gross. No one is paying attention to the objection, her mom flicking a piece of popcorn at Seville to prove just how unflinching she is. There’s nothing that can be done about any of it. Sometimes life must run its course, for better or for worse.

There’s a knock at the front doors, nearly lost to the din. Denali glances around to confirm that no one else noticed before sighing and turning to answer it. "Don’t worry! I got it!" She exclaims sarcastically while walking through the front parlor to the entryway, opening both red doors with a dramatic flourish. "I’m terribly sorry, but the asylum is at full capacity and we simply do not have room for any new admittances at this point in time. Please, lea—"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Stop."

—ve your contact information with the front desk in the garden and we’ll alert you if any vacancies become available for the general public.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Stop."

Denali looks into the face of the girl that murdered her and suddenly the chaos echoing from inside the house feels completely sane in comparison. All of the mirth disappears from her eyes, her mouth hardening into a tense frown as she clenches her jaw. She takes a step back, pulling the doors with her so her body blocks the remaining opening between them. "Please leave," she hisses in a voice far more threatening than Rio’s manic screeching or Peregrine’s violent piano smashing in the background. "You’re not welcome here."

blood in the water layup

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[newclass=".Denali1Title"]font-size:10px; text-transform:uppercase; margin-right:65px; margin-bottom:1px; [/newclass]
[newclass=".Denali1Content"]width:300px; height:0px; overflow:hidden; opacity:0.9; font-size:10px; text-align:justify; padding:1px 10px 0px 10px; -webkit-transition-duration:1s; transition-duration:1s; -moz-transition-duration:1s; [/newclass]
[newclass=".Denali1Container:hover .Denali1Content"]height:250px; overflow:auto; padding:10px; text-align:justify; -webkit-transition-duration:1s;transition-duration:1s; -moz-transition-duration:1s; [/newclass]

( C H A R A C T E R S )

ryan
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2,989 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen Nov 22, 2024 0:00:03 GMT -5

over the moon, where all the wild things are

blood in the water :: [ denali + annie // vt ] Feb 21, 2019 22:26:44 GMT -5

Post by ryan on Feb 21, 2019 22:26:44 GMT -5

Annie couldn’t believe the amount of stress she had been through. The moment she walked out of the arena was the moment she realized that her life was going to change. Denali Lyons was one of her victims, and to make sure that she would remember her, she took the post cards that she had carried on her body till the moment she died.

However, the moment she got to the capitol, no, the moment she was picked up by Glamour Kinkade, she was told that the tributes would be restored to life. Annie didn’t even know how react to such news, and by the time she woke up from the shock that enveloped her body, she was already being seen by the capitol’s doctors.

She looked out to the table where the items from the arena that she had claimed, and none of them remained touched. Maybe in her stupor she was able to voice to not touch them. That they were hers for the time being. That she was going to keep them with her to remember her time by. But then when she awoke, she realized that she was going to have to give them back to their respective tributes.

Of course, she had time to do so, and while she did have a bit of a connection to Janet, mostly because of how awesome the machine was, it was not hers to keep. Quest Hertz lived to tell another tale, which meant that she needed to give it back or it would eat away at her conscious.

However, she didn’t need to do so right away, and she had other things to deal with, like the fact that her hand was missing, or the looks she got from everyone in the capitol because she was announced as the victor of a games where no one actually died.

The looks were always different depending on the person, but in the capitol, it didn’t matter. Annie was considered a hero no matter what the outcome was. She was the one who rose above the rest, and the fact that all her victims got a chance to live again, gave the hardcore fans a chance to rejoice again and again.

Annie though did not know how to feel about the twist. She was happy, somewhat, that there was a chance for all of them to live a semi normal life, but then there was remorse, because she knew that there was going to be bad blood no matter who she interacted with. She could taste the copper in her mouth already, and she hadn’t even tried to reach out to any of them yet.

Some of them understood Annie’s desperation, that’s what she came to learn when she visited each district from one to four. She spent time taking tours of each facility, the career districts trying their hardest to prove that they were a step above four all along, but that did not change any of the outcomes in the finale. Annie was the one who rose victorious, and nothing would change that.

One offered her a chance to meet Bette Sublino again. Gave her a chance to silently watch the sunset in the district that Bette claimed as home, and she could not lie, their was beauty at every turn. And while she only enjoyed light conversation and a cup of tea, she was appreciative that Bette hadn’t tried to exact revenge that she rightfully deserved so.

After all, silencing a Titan was no easy feat, and their revenge would always be gristly.

District two was no different. A preening peacock type district that wanted to do nothing but show Annie that they were better then her home. That the fact that both of their tributes lost was merely a fluke, and that in the future, they will not go down without more of a fight.

Annie didn’t give a shit.

Not one bit.

She hated the title of career, and she had a feeling that both of the tributes from two as well did not care for it either, and while the heads of the district made it very clear that they were out for blood, Annie simply would step out of the way. She had her time to shine after all, and she hated every minute of the blood red spotlight.

She didn’t mind showing off a couple of her knife throwing tricks though.

District three housed the twins, both of which made it very clear that they did not care for Annie.

While she still held a major disdain for the female tribute, she realized that she could not even think about her like that anymore. There was no point in holding ill feeling towards any of them, because at the end of the day, Annie had her hand, and Auto had her life.

An even exchange if she had ever heard of one.

Sitting in a room with them did make her extremely uncomfortable though, but that came with the territory. She listened to people from the district pick apart her strategy in the games, and she realized that hearing out loud like this, Annie was a lot more bloodthirsty they she thought she was. After the 3rd day, she used fire like it was water, and the smell of burnt flesh would never leave her nostrils. It took permanent residence, even though she did not want or accept it as a guest in her house.

She didn’t have that choice, just like they had no choice but to fight her when that gong rang.

She would still preach to this day that she did not blame any tribute that spent time in that arena with her. She was just happy they all came back from the dead.

Even though it would never clear her guilty conscience.

District four celebrated her as a hero, even though she would never been like a hero. She knew that much.

They held parades and talked about her like she was the best thing to happen since they figured out how to make surfboards for leisure. She was invited to everywhere you could think of in the district of four. Asked to speak at countless training sessions about what she did in the arena.

While she wanted to be hopeful for the people of her district, Annie knew that she wanted nothing to do with the games after the victory tour. Of course, she didn’t have that luxury. She never would. She would be subjected to whatever the capitol wanted her to do for the rest of her life, and while the thought of running far away from her obligations sounded so tempting, she knew that she wanted to at least give it a chance. After all, she had Angel, and she had Wander. That was all she needed at this point.

She missed her mother, and she wished her father would die already.

That was where she was at when it came to home, and while she tried her hardest to compartmentalize it, and call it simple, she knew that was a lie.

Nothing would ever be simple for Anatalia Morrisen ever again, and she was just going to have to live with that.

And she would move onto the next district post haste.

Five seemed to welcome her with a bit more resentment. After all, she did have a hand in killing both of the tributes from this district. However, the mayor seemed to try to put that aside so they could be gracious hosts.

Annie didn’t care though.

She knew that she would never be accepted anywhere from here on out, because her name was tarnished through the mud, and she would be lucky to ever pull it out and clean it off.

However, she did have business here.

She gave a speech, one that she did not care for. She did notice that both tributes were not present, but she did not blame them. She was sure that Minx had gone into some sort of hiding, and Denali probably wanted to assault her more than anything.

It was probably best for both of them to stay far away from her, but the moments of the finale were engrained in Annie’s mind. Her last flaming knife being thrown through the air and slashing a gaping hole into Denali Lyons and setting her ablaze.

Annie got lucky with that throw, no matter how much people told her that she had pure skill when it came to knives. She would not take a compliment, not when it was riddled with nothing but sadness and strife.

She was not proud of what she did in order to win the games, and she would rather someone stab her in the neck then allow them to laud her for her perseverance.

She killed friends, foes, and strangers all alike in the games, and if there was one thing that she wouldn’t have blamed any of the tributes for, it would have been exacting their own revenge on her.

After all, she deserved it.

They set up a small demonstration area for her, laying out some knives that looked like they belonged in kitchen rather than in a live demonstration of her skills.

She shrugged though, realizing that didn’t matter right now. All she needed to do was put on a show for the people that wanted to see it. And even though Denali Lyons had just as much skill as Annie throwing knives, she was not here right now for Annie to push it over to her. Annie didn’t care for showing off anymore. And even before the games, she did not boast about her ability. She didn’t need to prove to anyone that she was skilled after all. She only needed to show her talents when it mattered the most, and that was during her private training session and in the arena. That was all.

After all, her name was called for the reaping. She didn’t have to volunteer like the rest of the districts. She didn’t have to throw her hat in the ring. She just needed to show up and do what she was asked to do.

That was simple enough for Annie.

So she picked up the knives, all of them varying in different ways, and she began to throw them in a rhythm similar to her private training session. She didn’t miss a beat, and she barely missed a target. After all, Annie thought of knives as an extension of herself, and as long as she felt like she was flying with the knife, she knew that she would most likely hit her target.

She heard people clap around her as she seemed to impress a good amount of people, and Annie simply shrugged. This was nothing to her after all. There was nothing difficult being asked of her, and there were no stakes, so peacocking a bit made the idea of this a little easier to her.

However, the moment she threw the last knife, she walked out of the center where they had her doing her exhibition. When they tried to stop her, she looked at them and shook her head. She was not here for them. She was here for her own reasons as well, and she wasn’t going to let anyone stop her from doing what she needed to do.

She had to ask her way around, but she finally set her sights on a very large house tucked away in the district. Annie was a little amazed at just how large it was, but she knew that the Lyon’s were a pretty large family to begin with.

She stood at a distance, feeling around the bag that was around her shoulder for the item that she claimed from the girl that lived in that house now. She knew they were important, judging from the way they were strewn about her corpse. She didn’t know how to approach this though, and with Cassius in the distance, she knew that he would probably be up her ass about going alone.

That wasn’t going to stop Annie though, she knew that these belonged to Denali, no matter how much she didn’t want to approach the house.

It was easy to say that Annie was scared of what was going to happen, but this was her chance to try to make amends for what had transpired.

Even though she couldn’t take any of it back, she could at least try to remind Denali of the words that she spoke before she had taken her life.

She was sorry, even though she knew that Denali probably wouldn’t accept it.

That was fine with her though, because at the end of the day, she at least tried to make it right, just like she did with Bette Sublino.

And while they did not share many words or formalities, she could at least feel a quiet respect between them. And while she knew that walking up to that door would put her in danger, she had to take that risk to try to make this right.

Somehow.

In anyway shape or form.

This was something that Annie needed to make right.

She took sharp breathes, pulling all the postcards out of her bag and making her way down the brick road that led to the Lyon’s household.

She could feel her heart in her ears and her stomach churning every second of every step she took towards the building. However, the closer she got, the more noise she heard from the inside of the building. Annie simply shook her head, realizing that this might have been a horrible idea. That her coming here could rock the very happiness that was enveloping the household. However, no matter what Denali said to her, Annie would take it. She could at least do that for the girl who tried her hardest to make it apparent that she did not want her to win.

Annie just got lucky that her last knife finished her off after all.

The smell of putrid and burnt flesh started to fill her nose, even though she knew that she was nowhere near the arena they had both emerged from months before. She walked up those steps and she couldn’t breathe, stopping for a moment to catch some long breaths before realizing that the postcards were why she was here right now.

She was not here because she needed Denali to accept anything but what was hers from her.

That was it.

The postcards were what were important to Denali obviously, not Anatalia Morrisen’s peace of mind. No one gave a rats ass about that.

Annie would be tortured for years to come, and she was just going to have to learn to accept that. She took the lives of three tributes, and while they were all still alive now, she stole innocence from them. She stole their lives, if though two of them were only for a couple hours.

She wondered if they found out the meaning of the world in their death.

She wondered in the grim reaper divulged secrets from the heavens while he took their souls to a limbo that Annie would never see herself for years to come.

She wondered if they saw each other the moment they crossed over, and she wondered if they told each other that everything was going to be alright.

She wondered

She wondered

She wondered.

That was all she could do right now, is hope for the best, and hope that somehow, some way that Denali Lyons was going to give her the time of day. Even though Annie knew that she did not deserve any of it, because now time had to have been precious to them.

To every single tribute that walked through that arena, died, and then walked out with nothing but scars and nightmares riddling their existence.

And Annie wanted to be that shield, but she knew it didn’t work like that.

It would never work like that.

She would just have to accept that there was no way for them to make amends for the choices that they had made.

And so with that in mind, she knocked on the large door, waiting for someone to answer. Anyone.

And before she knew it, Denali stepped through the entrance, but with the sight of Annie she immediately went on the defensive. Annie did not blame her. Not one bit. If Denali had a weapon in her hand, Annie was sure that it would have wound up in her jugular.

There was no way that Denali Lyons wanted to see her now, or ever probably, but here Annie was.

Not giving her a chance to run away from the chance to try to make this right.

Annie knew that it would take time, and she was okay with that.

After all, they were all given a second chance to live a life possibly free from ever having to step back into that arena. In a way, they were all victors in that sense. However, Annie was the only one that was celebrated. That was made very clear from the capitol, and she would just have to accept that for what it was.

And even though she wanted to give all the money and glory to the people that she thought deserved it instead of her, she knew that would just not work.

There was no way for her to make amends, and money and fame and glory were things that would disappear eventually. Even Annie knew that. She stole their peace, and that was something that Annie could not replace. No matter how much she wanted too. It was gone, for all of them.

Including Annie.

And the mention of the word leave made Annie uneasy, and before Denali could slam the door in her face, she pushed on it, holding up the postcards that she had kept all these months. ”Can we talk? I want to return these to you Denali.” she said quickly, realizing that she had to be quick with her words to keep the attention of the fiery redhead before her.

She had no clue what this conversation would entail, but Annie wanted to try to bury whatever bad blood was between them, even though Annie knew that to do that, they would have to act like they had never met each other in the first place.

And even though Annie wished and prayed that could be the case, it never would be.

Their fates were now tied together, because Annie had fought for her life, thinking that she would be the only one to earn the right to live.

But there they were.

All of them were alive and well in the world, and while she still had so many of them to see, Annie knew that everything would change the moment she confronted each one of them.

”I don’t deserve your time Denali. I know that. I stole that from you. You have every right to hate me. But if it makes you feel better…” She said, the post cards now held to her chest, ”… I hate myself too.” Annie said in honesty that she didn’t need to have with the girl, but there she was, willing to lay it all on the line for her.

And however Denali wanted to take the news, that was up to her, and all Annie could do was stand there and wait for her to give a response, or slam the door in her face.

Those postcards though were her only leverage.

So she had to hope that Denali would give her the time of day.

Or give up while she could.