Vexation [Aveo; OPEN]

Vexation [Aveo; OPEN] Apr 22, 2020 12:27:39 GMT -5

Post by * on Apr 22, 2020 12:27:39 GMT -5

The days had passed all too quickly. The caterpillars had started to emerge from their cocoons, but there was one that nary moved at all. The ones beside it had broke through their changing stays already and flexed their wings almost immediately and began to flutter around with their adopted siblings. Some of them were yellow, all different sizes but there was one that had eyes, it seemed, at the tips of its wings to scare of the predators. They were pretty, but he knew keeping beauty from the world would only make it more dull. In district ten, they weren't exactly made of money, nor were they the poor. They were comfortable as both of his parents worked good jobs and it was easier when his sister was around to help bring in extra money, but since she had left, things just weren't the same.

"Aveo? Mom said you have to take me to town to get more feed and she wanted you to find some flowers for..." She stuttered, already her eyes welling up for reasons he can't fathom. Of course they were for Amberly, but why would someone who fought with our sister since she was born miss her enough to cry? Why has he not shed a single tear since she's been gone either?

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do it. You stay home and help her. I don't want you coming along. I can muster it by myself, pipsqueak." HIs voice sauntered out with a boredom droll and as he finally pulled his nose away from the cocoons in front of him, he turned to see that she was gone. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his wallet, stuffing it in his back pocket, before walking down the hallway passing his sister's room and glancing in to see Amberly's side completely cleaned up and ready for her return. Her pillow fluffed to perfection and there was a stuffed bunny on her pillow. He noticed all too quickly how it resembled the caterpillar from ages ago and with a sigh he knew a little too late that Amberly had known or anticipated the older we got that the chances were higher one of us might go in.

Maybe she wasn't so bad of a sister after all?

"Fuck you, Amberly. Should have fought harder - now who will I fight with?" Huffing, he shoved his way through the hallway and passed the living room to the kitchen. HIs mom stood at the sink washing the dishes as he zipped by her and out of the door before it could even hit the wall. He took off running, his legs kicking up dust behind him as he felt his heart crumbling even more. He couldn't cry about her.

He wouldn't.

She was nothing but a pain in his ass everyday since he'd been born. It was her that had neve stuck up for him in school and let the other kids make fun of him. She was the one always in trouble for something and he had to suffer the backtalk and the rumors about her.

Before he could reach the town, he slowed down. His heart racing beyond his own control and he stopped short of the town to an old oak tree that had been weathered with age. He pushed his back against the bark and took a heavy breath before sitting down and taking a few moments to himself. Amberly would be expected back in a day or two since the games had finally ended and it wasn't with her as a victor. Instead, she would come home broken and beaten but lathered in makeup to make her look like she would be sleeping.

"Angevin's are courageous. Angevin's are strong - Angevin's are cowards!" He huffed, letting his anger explode as he hit the tree with his hand. Bark splintered away, embedding it within his skin and drawing blood and he remembered how his sister had looked before she died. He didn't want to end up like her. He was better then that. He wouldn't let someone murder him on TV. If his name was called, he'd fight, but not out of strength and courage, but revenge.

"I'll never step foot on that stage. I'm not a coward. I won't just abide by their law..."

Aveo's words: 7cb896
Others: 7cb896

Vexation [Aveo; OPEN] May 10, 2020 12:01:17 GMT -5

Post by 𝓂𝒶𝒽𝑜𝓊𝒽𝑜🕊 on May 10, 2020 12:01:17 GMT -5

Z e n o b i a.

"Because you aren't afraid
to kiss the dirt
(and consequently dare
to climb to the sky)."

I've always been an early riser, no matter the time of year or day. As you age, you grow accustomed to dressing in the dark, relying on eyesight through moonlight to maneuver your muddied reflection through grime encrusted vanity mirrors. I stood before one passed down through generations. History can be romantic, but this one has too much love to it. A stubborn love that no matter how much elbow grease you put into shining, the crust won’t grudge; just like the cowlick protruding from the braided right side of my head. My fingers grazed the two rows of braids, trussed in a free flowing tail in the back whilst a few strands freely stroked my jawline as I tucked the fray into its seam. I grinned satisfied, only to lean off the faded wood to find the seam to be undone once more. “Why do I even bother?” The wind from my cracked window did not reply as I latched onto the backs of my muddied black boots. Carefully toeing the lines of the aged grained planks until my toes were met with the concrete of our connecting deck, I allowed the latch of our patio screen door to flicker shut until settling on the workbench nearby.

A cool spring chill lapped the sides of my cream tank covered in a greened flannel too large to be mine. Glimpses of sunlight stroked the tips of my shoes as I slid into familiar leather. While tightening the laces, pinned needles dotted my back. My knuckles tightened, holding still to hear. This is stupid, I don’t need to worry. It’s been years. After a grimaced swallow, one foot is done. Shifting towards the other, my process was interrupted- if you don’t check you’ll regret. “Stop it.” With both done, I arose and swiftly made my way to the barn house in the back. Once over and it’s done. If you don’t, it could be too late. Halting halfway through, my eyes flickered to all sides; the irony is not lost on me, I’ve become my daddy who I once mocked albeit unintentional. It is childish, and not a hard task to others. But that daily fear lurks in the back of my thoughts since three years passed. It’s as prominent as the scars on my cheek and thigh. If it’s partially concealed with jeans though, it is out of sight and out of mind. Isn’t that what we all do? Hide things from ourselves to avoid facing it.

Orange hues washed over the weathered barn ahead, and with it my day had officially begun. Mind shutting off the static of caution, I lazily began my routine of releasing the penned animals to go about theirs after refilling hay and feed. From the backyard cooler, I grabbed slabs of marbled meat wrapped and knotted in parchment, loading it into the relaxed wooden cart. Grabbing the harnesses and saddle, I fashioned my dear speckled Pecan up. By now the morning has settled into itself with the heat creeping slowly. I heard mama cooking away and chatting freely to my dad in the kitchen, to which I waved at through the screened window. Galloped hooves on paved dirt ushered concerns aside. Green fields with sparse housing condensed leisurely with picturesque clouds reflected above. The heat trickled sweat on my hairline as minutes passed. Eagerly awaiting to get to my destination, an oddity struck. Slowing Pecan’s stroll, a giggle erupted out of my throat escaping past my lips upon seeing a lanky boy push dramatically against a tree only to strike it. I know I shouldn’t laugh, but could you blame me? This is the most interesting thing i’ve seen all morning. It isn’t my business, but fuck it. My cart slowed to a halt behind the stranger, and I couldn’t help but call out “hey, you alright? Looks like you could use a ride.”

credits: elegant ; e. e. cummings