zeke provence . d6 . fin

arx Retired Staff 2,426 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Apr 23, 2024 12:58:45 GMT -5 literally so gay, doing so many crimes	zeke provence . d6 . fin Aug 5, 2020 20:55:53 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by arx on Aug 5, 2020 20:55:53 GMT -5 zeke provence. seventeen. male. district six. ♉︎. 🐂. clueS3.
	Last Edit: Aug 17, 2020 22:26:11 GMT -5 by arx "I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

arx Retired Staff 2,426 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Apr 23, 2024 12:58:45 GMT -5 literally so gay, doing so many crimes	zeke provence . d6 . fin Aug 15, 2020 22:34:13 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by arx on Aug 15, 2020 22:34:13 GMT -5
	"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

arx
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Pronouns: she/her
last seen Apr 23, 2024 12:58:45 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

zeke provence . d6 . fin Aug 17, 2020 22:25:43 GMT -5

Quote

Post by arx on Aug 17, 2020 22:25:43 GMT -5

He'd made up his mind a long time ago.

Sat upon fraying carpet with eyes glued to the television screen, lungs functioning exclusively in bated breaths as the cameras panned to reveal the glitz and glam twisted around petite figures, the decadent towers of chocolate tarts, and marble balconies that soared above brilliant skylines⁠. He'd looked at his mother with a smile so wide it had prompted a gentle warning—"Careful, sweetheart, or you'll crack."—that fell on deaf ears.

He was going to have it all. Everything the Capitol had to offer would be his in the end. They'd be filming from his balcony, asking him about the designer clothes he wore, dining in the restaurant he owned. Totalitarianism was hardly a setback to a little boy so stubborn he'd already earned himself a lashing or five in front of dozens of soulless eyes as he kicked up dirt and spat profanities. Apparently they'd all given up; he had a hard time understanding why.

"They're all idiots then," he mumbled angrily around the bar of soap his father was using as punishment for, "the inappropriate language you displayed out there."

He heard his parents whispering at night—("What if next time he- he gets himself-" "No. I'll fix it." "How?" "I- I don't know. But we will.")—and knew they were idiots, too. At least, that's what he said when they took the bar from his mouth and pulled him off the kitchen counter.

He hadn't meant it. Not then, at least. He was just a knobby-kneed, headstrong, spoiled brat with a burning hatred for authority figures who tried to tell him, "No." It was easier to spit in their faces and lie awake in agony than to admit that they were right. All of them, all those soulless eyes. What use was his dream if he didn't have a mind to dream it?

The welts melted back into place, the bruises faded away, the open wounds sealed and turned to scars. He watched from a distance like a cat in the shadows, listened and nodded even though he could never understand, bit his tongue until his tongue bled and pooled between his teeth.

They say patience is a virtue, right?

It was the Salvatore Boarding School letterhead with his name printed in bold lettering that proved it. All the late night dinners he'd insisted on getting perfect before letting his family have a taste, all those afternoons he'd watched Stella twirl around the studio before demanding her opinion on seven different kinds of seafood dishes, all the times he'd accidentally sliced his finger or lit his eyebrows on fire—it was all so that he could hold the key. All there was left to do was turn it.

It was perfect. The recitals, the exhibitions—he felt at home among those who dared to step outside the box and shatter the glass ceiling. Paintings more beautiful than any landscape he could imagine hung on the walls, photographs that made even the dullest of subjects speak a thousand words, music and songs that seemed to float through the corridors as if it were drifting down from the heavens, hands and minds that crafted and created works of art even the gods would be jealous of. He was surrounded by it; he was it.

That's how it was. That's how it was supposed to stay.

He crumpled the headlines, let the flames turn them to ash. He swiped his hands over his apron, clapped the flour away. Forgotten. Forget them.

"Yeah, sure. I've got time."

He'd meant it when he'd said it—hell, he could practically taste the hops, fry oil, and strawberry lip gloss already—but the look on her face told a different story.

"What?"

Hands raised, eyes wide, white flag waving in her eyes. Shit. Seems he'd shot the messenger. Again.

His feelings must've hit his eyes funny, cheeks missing their cue to contract and pull at the corners of his mouth, voice set in monotone and falling somewhere between the lines that conjoined sarcasm, annoyance, and derision.

Or maybe he was at the end of his rope, a pot left to simmer which anyone only ever paid any mind when it boiled over in fantastic display of flames and explosions. He called it passion; it was an easy way to convince himself and the other's that his perfect edges and crisp corners weren't razor sharp daggers dipped in disgust and disdain.

His found family had been crumbling as of late. Porcelain once pristine was cracking within the display case. The little imperfections he'd once thought beautiful had spread into dark, ugly webs he could hardly stand to look at. He tried his best to hide what he could, smooth over jagged edges, dress them up in their Sunday best, and press my finger to their lips when worries and insecurities begin spilling out.

This was a mess. Scarlet. Frankie. They were a mess. It was all one huge, ugly bloodstain splattered across the walls and catching beneath fingernails. He didn't know how to make this better, how to fix them. Himself.

He'd really fucked it this time, hadn't he?

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

arx Retired Staff 2,426 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Apr 23, 2024 12:58:45 GMT -5 literally so gay, doing so many crimes	zeke provence . d6 . fin Aug 17, 2020 22:28:01 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by arx on Aug 17, 2020 22:28:01 GMT -5 gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan u so sexy
	"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan
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— 🥀 —

zeke provence . d6 . fin Aug 18, 2020 12:09:46 GMT -5

Quote

Post by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan on Aug 18, 2020 12:09:46 GMT -5

"Or maybe he was at the end of his rope, a pot left to simmer which anyone only ever paid any mind when it boiled over in fantastic display of flames and explosions."

i hate how obsessed i am with u