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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Sept 19, 2019 21:08:57 GMT -5
(*Lurks*)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 20, 2019 17:07:00 GMT -5
(Okay but concept; the child of Macaria and Alessandro growing up and marring Holly’s kid (if she ever had one) and Holly and Macaria getting to be family properly <3. Not canon obviously but I couldn’t help imagining
But anyway have some dark and depressing Amadrya - it’s non-canon but of course it pretty much could be canon so whatever XD)
Amadrya had originally tried to count the days since they had been captured, but day and night seemed to blend together down here (no doubt a rather deliberate choice) due to the general darkness and lack of windows down where the three were kept. It felt like forever, and Amadrya found herself longing more and more each day for home. To see the inky blackness of the night sky there, studded with silvery stars arrayed like wildflowers on a field. To be able to track the glowing moon as it crossed the sky and made way for the burned reds and golds of morning.
But the District 7 girl was losing hope. She had been appearing on tv for Louden for some seemingly interminable number of days, and each time she had to do so it broke her a little more. She had been unable to make any progress with Holly, who was silent and cared little for pity. Such concern was worth nothing here anyway. And seeing Holly’s fierce spirit so broken pained Amadrya greatly. The greatest pain for her, though, was seeing Everest hurt. And that she could do nothing about.
She was pretty sure she hadn’t spoken herself for a day or two. As much as she loved Everest, even his words couldn’t reach Amadrya now. It was as if some great chasm separated them, so that she could make out across the great distance his mouth forming words but could not hear the sound. Sometimes with Holly she shared a glance, and there was a new light in her eyes, as if Holly was aware that the other girl had given up, as if she was somehow praising her for finally seeing the truth. For stopping her struggling against what could not be changed.
Because after all, it was a struggle that Amadrya had realised was in vain. She knew they would never get out of there. The light of day was something Amadrya only had glimpses of when she went to film for Louden. And maybe they’d see it when they were executed (something she was sure would eventually come), which wouldn’t be so bad. Amadrya would choose to be executed outside, if she could. Feel the sun, look up at lazy clouds in a blue sky and pretend for a moment that the world wasn’t broken and corrupted.
That was partly why she had gone silent even to Everest. She loved him, and would continue to protect him in any way she could, and part of that meant not causing him any more pain. Why let him fall deeper in love with her, and vice versa, only for them to lose one another at the end of it without ever being free together? Without ever being able to be together outside of the Arena of or this prison? That would be the worst torture either of them could go through. And besides, didn’t Everest deserve to spend his last days, weeks, months, whatever it might be, being able to think clearly? He shouldn’t have to have all his thoughts stuck on Amadrya.
And so she sat quietly, feeling more thin and weak than she had ever done before. Her skin was pale, and her face no longer looked grim but determined as it had been. It just looked hopeless. Her eyes were empty of their usual fire, and she just idly twisted the tribute token she still had around her wrist. She hadn’t said anything to Holly or Everest about this, but she hadn’t eaten any of the meagre meals they had been given for the past few days. She had tried to ask Louden to just give her portion to Holly and Everest instead, because she had no appetite any more. Everything hurt, and eating caused its own pain. And besides, what was the point anymore? At least in not eating for a while, she was inflicting pain on herself. That was the only control she had, since she could no longer even control the words she spoke, what with her tv appearances being scripted. Refusing food was the only power she had, and she revelled in the pain for knowing she still had some agency.
Everything seemed dark and hopeless and full of death. She knew that the rebellion was still going strong, and while she was happy about that, it offered little comfort. She wanted to be helping the rebel cause too and was unable, and anyway she recognised that they had little chance of the rebels winning anyway. She could hope that the rebels would win and the deaths of Amadrya, Everest and Holly avenged, their names never forgotten, but every day the cold reality of her cell and the power of the Capitol told her otherwise.
But even that didn’t cause her much pain anymore. As she thought about the night skies of District 7, her thoughts fixed on those stars. They had been there long before Panem and the horrors of the Games had ever begun, and they would be there ever afterwards. There would still be beauty and light and perhaps, a little hope, as she had still had hope once before. The world would go on, and people would find a way to be alright. If anyone was good at that, it was the citizens of Panem’s districts. The stars were part of something far bigger than Amadrya, or Louden, or the Capitol, or the Games, or Panem. And so in the end, it didn’t matter.
The night sky of District 7 would never change, no matter how much District 7 did. I love this idea, first of all. Second, I love Maddie.) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 20, 2019 17:10:16 GMT -5
(I’m glad you love it  I thought it was an interesting idea and we could totally do some writing or something about that idk I just I’m excited And I’m glad you like Maddie XD I’m aware I write a lot of her but right now she honestly just seems like she has the most to say. For a long time it was Burton/Catullus but now it feels like Maddie really wanted me to do more for her) |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 20, 2019 17:13:17 GMT -5
(I totally want to go to Britain when I get into College, Britain or France to Study Abroad.) (Also yes, I’m gonna write more soon. I did something a few days ago but it got deleted  .) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 20, 2019 17:16:07 GMT -5
(Ooh yes come over here! Amazing
Awww I hate that, it sucks! Well there’s no pressure, especially if you’re not feeling muse, and there’s certainly no rush)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 21, 2019 8:10:40 GMT -5
I have some more writing planned for today:
I’m finally going to do the Christmas domestic one where maybe they play some board games and have a laugh and fun domestic fluff. Oh and Macaria getting her secret Santa from Holly because that’s important content tbh
And then maybe something exploring this Macaria/Arlo kid x Holly’s kid)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 21, 2019 12:34:17 GMT -5
It’s Christmas, the first Christmas where we can all celebrate properly together, where we are finally all safe. Now, I hadn’t celebrated Christmas since I was a little girl, before I lost my family. After all, at the academy they didn’t exactly partake in any winter festivities. Christmas was just another day, time that I would spend training while most of the other kids my age celebrated with their families.
And it finally seems as if I have a family again.
I, after much pestering from my friends (by which I mean Burton, mostly) decided to change into something a little more seasonally appropriate this afternoon. I don’t own any Christmas jumpers per se, but I do have some things that are close enough. So I am wearing a navy blue turtleneck top with tiny silver snowflakes on it, paired with a dark knee-length skirt and tights. A necklace given to me by Alessandro, a long pendant with a beautiful opal, is layered over the turtleneck. Sure, it isn’t as festive as some of the outfits the others are wearing, but I’ve made an effort, which is more than I usually do.
We are all sitting round the table playing a board game, at which Alessandro is beating us all, which of course means we will never hear the end of it. He is currently chanting something about him being the king, and it is in the middle of one of these chants that Holly launches one of the game pieces at his head.
“Do I get extra points for that?” Holly asks as it hits him perfectly, but they’re both smiling
“Yes,” I respond to Holly, sticking my tongue out at Alessandro teasingly
Holly is also currently taking great pride in the fact that she is beating Burton, while Amadrya and Everest unofficially kind of teamed up. Halina and Ari are just mainly trying to annoy each other, making the game as difficult as possible for one another - but it’s all good-natured, obviously. Nobody seems to be taking it too seriously, apart from Alessandro of course, since he’s winning.
None of it matters anyway because within a couple of moves Alessandro has won, only just scraping the win with Holly close behind. Not that the fact that he barely won will stop him from reminding us of his victory for at least a week or two.
“Oh, lets have Secret Santa!” Burton suggests, clearly more excited than anyone else
Under the Christmas tree is one last pile of presents, the anonymous Secret Santa ones. I got Burton, so I hope he’ll be happy with what I got him. I don’t really know him as well as I do the others, but he’s still my friend and a really nice guy and so I tried my best to do something thoughtful for him.
We all agree to do the Secret Santa thing, then, and Halina dives under the tree to get the presents and dole them out to everyone. They’re all done in the same gold wrapping paper, too, so it’s impossible to tell who wrapped which one.
First, I watch Burton open his. It’s a collection of things from his home that he missed; I had to sneak across to District 8 to get it. It’s just simple home comforts that he missed, like a sample of one of his favourite fabrics that he couldn’t find anywhere any more in District 8 (that one took a while to track down), copies of old family recipes he wanted to try making here, and I went to his family house and got his sisters and parents to write him some letters as well, since he wasn’t able to see them this Christmas. I can see a small grin growing on his face as he goes through the stuff.
I share a glance with Holly, and smile to her. This stuff was mostly her idea, since Burton told her about the recipes he wanted and the fabric he couldn’t find. I just asked for her advice, since she knows him far better than I do. Only the letters were my idea. But I’m glad, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen Burton look so happy.
But now I turn my attention to the present I was given, pulling apart the golden wrapping paper carefully to see a collection of things that - at first - I’m not sure what they are.
There’s a deluxe set of throwing knives, which obviously I know what they are, and that brings a smile to my face. They’ll be useful, for sure, but they are not what draws my attention. It’s the collection underneath that draws my eye.
I instantly recognise the swirling script of my mother, which hits my like a brick. It was the last thing I was expecting to see that day. And as I read it, it’s a letter from her to my father when they were young. There are family trees and birth certificates and photos.
I am flipping through the photos when one of them stops me in my tracks.
A man with blond hair and bright green eyes stands next to a woman with deep brown hair, darker than mine, and hazel eyes. In front of them stand two grinning children of about five and ten, maybe a little younger. The older girl has slightly darker hair than the younger and the same green eyes as the man. The younger girl, who wears a daisy chain around her neck and a big dimpled grin, has slightly lighter brown hair and green eyes with a ring of brown around the pupil.
That was only a year before the man died, and two years before the woman and the older girl died too.
The next picture stops me, too. A five-year old brunette girl holds a newborn baby, staring in wonder at the tiny thing she is holding. The torso of a woman can be seen behind her, as well as a hand gently resting on the girl’s shoulder. A man’s hand can be seen steadying the girl’s hold, supporting the head of the tiny baby. The house in the background seems cheerful and warm, with a glowing fire. The girl is wearing nice clothes and seems well-fed, better than many children in the lesser districts anyway.
Those pictures make me smile, a smile which causes the dimples to show on my cheeks. I never smile because I don’t like letting my dimples show, but I’m so caught up in the photos and little tokens that I can’t stop myself from smiling. But I know that a little later I’ll probably look at these and cry, when I know nobody else can see. I can’t believe someone would do such a lovely thing for me.
I look around the room, unsure which of my friends went through all the time and effort to find this stuff for me. Apart from Alessandro, I didn’t think any of them liked me that much. After all, I did try and kill most of them at least once. But I know for a fact Alessandro doesn’t have me, because I know he has somebody else. So which of them gave me these things? Which of went through all the effort of going through the District 2 archives?
I don’t know, and I don’t need to know.
I’m just happy
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 22, 2019 15:00:28 GMT -5
That was absolutely adorable :3.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 22, 2019 15:02:55 GMT -5
(Haha thank you x I wanted Macaria to be able to smile and have her cute dimples showing and yes XD and okay but a couple more things: A) Macaria’s hair is naturally curly (she just straightens it) so I either imagine her and Holly bonding over it when she realises or them making fun of when her hair in the Arena went curly/frizzy because it definitely did  Macaria is definitely super protective of the like super pure characters like Ari and Burton I am definitely gonna do more writing today but not sure what. Anything you’d like to see?) |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 22, 2019 18:13:04 GMT -5
(I’m planning on writing some now because I just watched LavenderTowne(youtuber) do some art on how hunger games characters should really look and her Katniss one really inspired me,)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 22, 2019 21:01:53 GMT -5
I know it’s hard to realize, to remember. With everything I’ve been through, that I’ve seen, heard, with every experience and sour memory...
It’s hard to remember.
I’m standing beside Macaria, whose dark hair is shades lighter than mine, taller than me, and with a much more healthy weight than my own.
It makes me draw in a breath as I watch her speak with Alessandro, the tanned boy with dark brunette hair and bright blue eyes, similar to ice. I’m floored for a moment at their words.
“My mother plans to visit soon,” was all Alessandro had said, towering above me, and standing across from Macaria, a big dopey smile on his face, “She’s very excited to meet you.”
I notice things no one else seems to, and I easily see through Macaria’s passive look, there’s a dip to her lips, a slight frown, and her eyes hold some sadness within, seeming dim. Then again, her green-brown eyes always seem dim to an extent, hiding behind an exterior of deadly motivation. Once, to me, Macaria seemed to be just another demon out to get me, she attempted my life in the games, set to win not to get glory, but the pay back a debt for the academy, give them a victor, in return for them making her into yet another machine meant to kill.
Alessandro doesn’t noticed he’s not very good at noticing anyways, and I roll my eyes, Macaria’s words sound sour, even if they sound normal, “Great, excited to see her.”
She’s not excited to see her. But something sticks with me, beyond what they said.
Is it family?
“That’s Great Arlo!” Another voice chimed in, interrupting my thoughts, and I turn to watch as the tan door opened, revealing a boy with brunette hair and a joyous smile on his face, behind him, I heard laughter, laughter that brought smiles to most, but brought me a simple frown and glare. Burton’s entering the room, and his sister’s trail behind him, “My parents just got in! Their settling into one of the guest rooms now!” He comments.
I stay silent, raising an eyebrow at Alessandro who has mellowed out a ton to, he smiles more, and bares a look of a happy man now. No longer weighed down by expectations. “Great! And Amadrya’s cousins?” He asks.
“She’s visiting them in 7 now, she’s bringing them back soon,” Everest comments, smiling at the two young girls in the room with us, a broad grin on his face as he talks with them, and I channel his voice out in annoyance.
All of them, all so worked up over a-
“-Family Reunion?” Burton comments, resting his hand on my shoulder, now standing beside me and near Macaria and Alessandro. I didn’t even notice him move! And he glances at me in concern, and I notice other expectant glances.
“What?” I ask, my casual sarcastic tone has a list of confusion, and he frowns deeper, causing me to feel immediately bad.
“Are you excited for the family reunion?” He asks, before sighing, “Are you okay?”
I shrug, “I guess. I’m not really excited or sad or whatever.” And I’m not, I really don’t care about it, that’s not what bothers me. Something else does, and my eyes unwittingly fall to his younger sisters.
He grips a tiny bit harder on my shoulder reassuringly, and smiles comfortingly, “Well, if anything’s wrong, feel free to tell us.”
Laughter from the girls fills my ears, and Everest’s joins in with it. And unwillingly, I gasp, ignoring his comment.
“We’re still children!” I didn’t mean to yell out the comment as loudly as I did, or seem as startled. It’s not an extremely startling fact, “I’m still a kid.” I tag on, blinking harshly, I didn’t understand my own shock, and clearly the others are appalled at my outburst, staring.
I shake my head, biting back an insult or curse, and walked away, slamming the door shut as I walked down the hall to the bathroom.
I turned, ignoring the glances of the two people in the room at the end of the hall as neared the bathroom, Burton’s parents’ heads had shot up like startled deers when I slammed the door shut, I ignored them and entered the bathroom, flicking on the switch to the lights and slamming that door too. I locked it, and turned abruptly.
Just to meet my own reflection. Something I despised.
I wanted to tear my eyes away from it, but the girl I saw was unmoving, eyes staring straight ahead, inquisitive and bland. My features were odd, unlike those of many of the others. The first thing I noticed was my pale complexion, almost sickeningly, mirroring that of the dead, like my own mothers body, and the almost ashen color it held.
Everyone else had tan, golden, or even darker skin, but not many had the pale, sickly like complexion I did. I’m reminded once again that I’m so much different, such an odd character that doesn’t belong in the book with the others, I don’t belong and I drag them down.
I continue my survey anyways, taking in my other features, the dark circles under my eyes, and thick eyelashes I naturally have, the charcoaled color hair that lays straight, flaring out at the tips and framing my face, the small point to my nose, and my eyes, With are rimmed by a dark evergreen around the edge of the iris, and become a soft pale green color with flecks of the darker color throughout. However I lift a hand slowly to my neck, where I’m wearing a scar, and unwrap it, frowning at the small scars stretching over my neck that came from just months after my mother’s death, when cruel children would corner me and choke me, taunting that I was like my mother, that no one would care if I died, though those children weren’t wrong. And children are easy to imprint on, I know some of their parents spoke of my mother’s death, said that I should have been with her, that I would be just the same, I remember hearing said words. Children followed their parents footsteps, some paid for their parents mistakes.
The scars weren’t from those exact situating, just one in which a kid, one who I apparently agitated for my comments and dry humor, attempted my life whenever I embaressed them over something silly. The scars came from a specific, haunting day, just about a year before I was reaped. I had watched this kid boast about how was rich, how he was going to win the games. I simply called him an idiot and told him to get back to work. Now, it should be noted this wasn’t the first time I told the kid off, calling his bluffs, but this time was at work, in front of many other kids, and friends of his. As kids do, some laughed, and his reaction was violent, grabbing lace from the fabric stand near him, he started choking me with it, though the part that caused the scarring was due to the needles that had been resting in the fabric, the work in progress garment, and those had caused the scars. Before said kid could kill me, one of the peacekeepers, one who had been friends with my mom, was able to stop the kid. I was treated for, and was left with tiny scars that fell around my neck, none right over my throat, and none in a organized manner, they remained hidden most of the time, by hair, or by my scarves. The kid, however, died in that years games.
It was the only time I didn’t care less for watching a kid die.
Tracing a finger over the scars, I frowned, lifting my hair ever so slightly. No one knew about them, most hid on the back of my neck, only one or two laid close to my throat. In the games, of course those were obvious. But 2 isn’t as bad or obvious as tons, and the ones that were bad ran along the back of my neck, long, thin, and sometimes wider scars.
Perhaps worst of all was my short stature, I noted. Malnutrition caused a stunt to my growth, and anytime I wore anything close to tightfitting, you could see the outline of my skeleton. Surely, it wasn’t as bad as those from 11 or 12, but it was still bad. It was better now, but the time from 8 and the cell in the Capital stunted my growth majorly.
I sighed, resting my hand on the counter, and closing my eyes. I didn’t look terrible, maybe not to the others, but to me? It was a nightmare, I didn’t see beauty in that, I saw a broken girl who was tired, who was scared.
In Amadrya, in Macaria, Halina, Ari, Burton, Alessandro and in Everest, I saw strength, beauty, and pieces that melded back together.
In me?
I saw flaws, a broken doll who couldn’t be fixed.
I frowned, hearing a loud knowing, and turned, opening the door.
Burton stood, looking at me in concern before wrapping me in a hug.
I heard soft cries, and felt wetness on my cheeks and realized only then that I was crying.
He didn’t press, asking what was wrong, what hurt, what caused it, he only stayed, just so I knew someone was there.
“I’m broken,” I whispered, hating the fact that I was crying in front of anyone, that I was crying at all, and hating how broken I sounded because it only made my comment more true.
“So am I,” he whispered, “We all are. But that doesn’t define us. Being broken is okay, because if we were all perfect, put together without a single missing piece, we would all be the same, being broken doesn’t make us flawed, it makes us worth it, unique.”
I knew his words were cliché, but I laughed regardless, earning a confused glance.
“What?” He asked, and I shook my head in response.
“You’re an idiot,” I commented jokingly and teasingly, “But your my idiot and I wouldn’t change that for the world?”
He snickered in response, rolling his eyes, though he was still hugging me.
“Stop hugging me.” I then demanded, huffing, I had a reputation to uphold.
“Nope, I’m dead now.”
“Burton-“ I warned.
“I was killed by a mean, ugly dragon!”
“Did you just refer to me as ugly-?” I started, snorting.
“Named-uh....Alessandro?”
I snorted, pushing him off to run and tell Alessandro about Burton’s comment, with Burton taking chase and demanding me not to tell.
It was dumb, the comments running around and playing chase, but it signified one thing.
We were kids.
And the scarf set alone on the counter.
(I never really referenced her scar any and oops I thought I had once? It comes from the original version of the character some because the motif of hanging and neck injuries was important to the character, and it’s pretty vital to this version too.
She tries to hide it as much as possible, mostly because she doesn’t want pity, or attention of any kind, plus it reminds her of her mother and that just upset it. So mostly the scar remains hidden at the back of her neck, where most of the needles were. On needle, which was in front, cause a scar at the front of her neck, one that can pass as simply being just that, a normal scar.
Plus the element of the bullying from a child seems far fetched but really isn’t, children don’t tend to mutilate other children out of their own right, but adults can be very cruel. Kids are bullied often at younger ages because of the way parents raise their kids. Take for example, a parent be homophobic, the kid will most likely think this way too and react harshly towards a homosexual child. In this example, realistically some parents are going to believe Holly’s mother, Ivory, really did attack a peacekeeper and talk trash on Holly’s mother and make some comment about Holly being the same because of this ideal of parents imprint on their children, so Holly would thus be dangerous, said kids may take this to heart and act in this way.
So yeah, deeeel stuff there. It’s not really from experience to me, but just the fact that kids do get bullied and it’s terribke but it happens. The part from the drawing that inspired this was the fact that the Katniss reminded me a lot of Holly’s looks. So I just squeezed that in to give maybe a better idea onto how she probably looks, plus I wanted to explain one of her major flaws which is oddly confidence and also antisocial actions.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 23, 2019 2:29:13 GMT -5
(That was so good! I love Holly so much and feel so bad for her tbh she is such a cool character
I will do some more writing soon I think)
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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Sept 23, 2019 17:54:40 GMT -5
*Gives a thumbs up*)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 13:14:54 GMT -5
Hello!
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 13:16:10 GMT -5
Hey!
Btw some writing will be coming up today)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 13:17:05 GMT -5
(I thought it would be really interesting to write up snippets of the planned deaths and roads for my characters and like, be warned, some are going to include gruesome and dark themes and details.
But if anyone wants to see that I’m going to do it so who do you wanna see first?)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 13:17:23 GMT -5
(Oh yay I’m excited!)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 13:18:29 GMT -5
I totally want to see that! I don’t mind who we see first, I’m totally excited to see any. I love Holly and Arlo whichever you have more muse for Yeah! Anything you’d particularly like to see?) |
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 13:19:19 GMT -5
(I love literally anything+everything you write so hit me with literally anything I love them all :3.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 13:20:24 GMT -5
(Ooh okay that I can do
But let me know if you have preferences as to which characters I do, whether you want happy or sad stuff, etc)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 13:58:17 GMT -5
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Shadows crept the walls of the abandoned city, whose decay reflected the hearts of so many, the living, within. Solemn hearts, the ones that could feel still, anyways, yearned to escape, to return home and forget. They would never forget. Only few remained now, those either cruel enough to kill for survival, or those who were lucky. Alessandro was both lucky and cruel, gullible enough to fall in love with a girl who he internally knew would never love him, but cruel enough to kill just to remain by her side. It was hard to, to keep such emotions at bay. He had no idea why it was then that it would bother him, at that moment. He was a career, he trained for this moment, this glee. Only a select few remained, Macaria, Everest, Amadrya, Halina, Burton, Holly and himself. He stalked alongside Macaria, staying beside her. When the Careers disbanded, Sapphire had died and Halina suffered injuries that would most likely kill her soon. Everest and Amadrya went off on their own, having done so after Alessandro killed Ari when the boy ran into them. Alessandro remembered it, offering up the kill to Amadrya, just to see her uncomfortable, upset and stunned. She started to ask for Ari’s life to be spared, claiming that it wouldn’t hurt to let him go. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he did it, but he knew exactly why. Macaria was watching him carefully. So he killed Ari, and that caused a massive fight to break out. Halina was going to die, most likely, due to her injuries, Sapphire did die, and Macaria... He tended to her, her, injured because of his brashness. She was asleep at the moment, a fact he was glad for, as he knew the wounds she suffered were great. He would kill Amadrya if he ever saw her again. And he realized he had a chance to. The building was plenty safe for Macaria to remain in alone, and he could get his revenge. So he ran off to do just that, his sword in hand, and eyes trained for the brunette from District 7. Shadows cascaded with the darkness, he had been walking for hours, and the moon settled into the sky. That’s when he noticed it. A soft rap of walking, but from above. He glanced up in surprise, spotting the one tribute he had barely ever seen yet, with her mysterious eyes focused on his form, and a quirky smirk to her lips. “Hello, Alessandro,” She said, passive, unafraid, and he was a bit stunned. Tributes were supposed to fear Careers. Though a soft laughter filled the air as she sat down on the edge of the rare, little one story roof, glancing at him in amusement, “What, surprised to see me?” “I-“ He started, before fearing two other voices, his eyes leaving Holly to swivel his head towards the voices, though Holly did the same. He noticed, though, from the corner of his eye, that the girl from 8 had stood and ran off, back into the darkness and hiding. Odd? He pondered closer, knowing only two tributes other than him and Macaria that would be on good enough terms to work together. So as soon as they came into sight, he launched himself at Amadrya, swinging his sword madly at her, while Everest stood a bit stunned for a moment. It was fast, very, consumingly fast, but one moment Alessandro had Amadrya knocked down, and was heading for Everest next. The next Everest was pinned under him, choking. And the next? An axe through his heart, and a new sound in the air. One less tribute, and one more failure. (These are going to be very fast. Plus the other character deaths are unknowns so I just made them up. These were kind of the plans as in when the characters were made.) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 13:59:10 GMT -5
Ooh I’m gonna read this soon I’m excited!)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 14:54:39 GMT -5
Some die shouting in gas or fire;
Some die silent, by shell and shot.
Some die desperate, caught on the wire;
Some die suddenly. This will not.
...
Some die quietly. Some abound
In loud self-pity. Others spread
Bad morale through the cots around . . .
This is a type that is better dead.
The canon fires, and the figure perched on the building watched through sheltered eyes as yet another tribute fell, dead and motionless. Something sparked in her eyes, standing and coolly walking away, leaving behind Macaria and Halina’s dead form. Hopping from place to place, climbing, all was easy, and soon she found herself jumping into the window of a nearby building, one of the skyscrapers lower floors, and climbing all the way up to the tippy top, reaching the roof and sitting there, settling down to let off some breaths, and letting her feet tangle off the edge. Her eyes skimmed were the body was, but a speck on the ground, and already gone. The hovercraft must have already come, then again, reaching the top of the buildings took a long while. “Holly?” She winced, she didn’t need to turn to know who had spoke to her, she could recognize his voice instantly, and a pity filled her heart. It hurt to hear him, but she turned her head anyways, offering her classic smirk. The look on Burton’s face caused her to drop it. “Burton-“ She started, but her voice fell as he interrupted her. “We’re one of the only ones left!” He suddenly spoke, looking utterly frustrated. “Amadrya’s gone,” he heart broke at the reminder, Macaria...she got Amadrya, and Everest was now alone. She didn’t know exactly what happened, but... “I know, I know.” She commented, sighing, “4 of us left, that’s why we can’t team up, Burton.” That’s why they never had. They were friends, but she refused to get too close to him. Not when she knew how this was going down. She couldn’t do that to him. Maybe she was in love, or maybe she loved him, like a best friend, and she refused to make him go through what she did. “But what if we did. We could-“ Burton started, almost sounding hopeful. “No.” She solidly pressed, “I work alone, Burton. I helped you out when you needed it, but working together...now?” She commented, “That’s only going to break whoever lives, you know that.” “What if we could both get out?” He suddenly offered, walking closer by a few steps, though he seemed a bit nervous by the height in which the building sat, one of the tallest. Then again, she forgot that this was his little den, his camp was in this building. “You know Louden would never allow that,” Holly commented, staring down at the ground, “And I don’t want to leave you like I was left, I don’t want you to break when I’m gone.” “ When?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes in realization before stalking forward, “Holly, get away from there.” Her eyes flashed up to meet his, “Burton, go.” She commented, standing up and turning his way. He stepped closer, and she stepped back, staring behind her for a moment before turning forward. She ran up to him, wrapping him in a hug, and he hugged her back. Though, she took off her necklace, a little locket, and slyly pressed it into his hand, before backing up. He glanced at it in confusion, and she took the chance, turning and jumping. And falling. Her gaze lingered ahead though, catching Burton’s panicked featured as he peered over the edge. She took the moment, what felt like forever, calming herself and staring at the world, the weightlessness settling over her body, and peaceful tranquility for just moments before it all halted. And seconds later, the canon fired. To be honest I’m very glad I didn’t go this route but this was the original plan. For her to remain solo and be my longest lasted but end up killing herself due to her not wanting to live with everything she did.
So yeah, she may have killed someone in this version idk.) |
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 14:56:31 GMT -5
Oh my gosh I’m excited for all of this
I’m gonna read both of these and do some more writing x let me know if there are any scenarios I could write to help with anything for the fic or anything (like if you need anything to show how characters would react to certain things or to test certain fic scenarios) let me know)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 15:56:35 GMT -5
(Ooh those were both so good x
I’m working on some writing now)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 16:29:55 GMT -5
It’s a few days after we were saved from the Arena, and I’m asleep in the room that the rebels seemed to design especially to fit my personality. Or at least that’s what they did with everyone else’s room. My bedroom is very plain and minimalistic, it doesn’t have any of the creative elements that the other rooms have to match the personalities of the occupants.
And why do I know I’m asleep? Because I can see myself leaning against the wall near my bed. The me from the Arena, still dressed in the outfit I was sent in wearing, hair tied out of my face. A backpack sits on the other me’s back. The light is dim, but her eyes catch the light as they look at me, flashing as she pierces me with my own sharp glare.
“Well, this room is kind of sad,” she says “it’s kind of depressing that they didn’t know enough about you to design a room to fit you.”
I don’t respond to that, and the other me stands up straight and starts to walk towards me. And that’s when I catch it. In the low light, I suddenly catch a flash of silver. She’s holding a knife, my own favourite throwing knife from the Arena. With the blade still in her hand, she takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?” she asks with fake sympathy “cat got your tongue?”
She starts to turn the knife in her hand, but my gaze snaps to hers, meeting only my own eyes.
“What do you want?” is all I can ask
My chest is rising and falling quickly, my breathing quick and shallow. I wish I had a weapon to lay hands on myself, and I know the other me can see that. She can see the fear in my eyes, she revels in it. Much like I used to.
“Oh, honey, I really thought talking to myself would be more stimulating conversation,” the other me says disappointedly “you’re me, you know why I’m here. Because you’re making a terrible decision.”
“Helping the rebels isn’t a terrible decision,” I reply “being with Alessandro, being friendly with the others, those aren’t terrible decisions.”
“For the record, they are definitely terrible decisions,” she says “this isn’t who you are. Risking your life for other people is the literal opposite of what you’ve done all your life, and so is fighting a losing battle - you’re smarter than that. Are you really going to throw away everything you’ve done in your life, all the work and effort you needed to put in just to survive, for the sake of a boy? For a doomed cause?”
“Alessandro is more than just some boy,” I retort
“He is quite literally not,” the other me responds “Alessandro was a pawn in the Arena, a weapon you could use and then get rid of when he became an inconvenience. And in the first of a long list of terrible decisions, you fell in love with him. Wake up sweetheart, look at where you are. You’ve spent your whole life planning to be a victor in the Games and you somehow end up fighting for some rebels. Don’t you see? I don’t think I need a compass to show you that you’ve strayed pretty far from your life path.”
“Helping the rebels is the right thing to do!” I snap “and you know that. You know that I probably never would have lost my mother and sister, would never have been raised into this monster, if it weren’t for the Capitol.”
“Oh, please, you were raised into a fighter. Listen, no matter how much you think fighting for the rebels is right, it’s not you. Look around, you don’t belong here. Amadrya should be here instead of you, and you should be getting tortured in the Capitol instead of her. You’d feel right at home in the Capitol, wouldn’t you? And the reason she isn’t here is because bad things happen to good people. So stop being a good person, and just focus on surviving like you’ve always done. You don’t deserve to be here with the rebels, or with Alessandro. You don’t deserve it because you’re thinking of turning your back on the rebel cause to save your own skin.”
“No I’m not!” I spit, starting to get angry now
“Of course you are, or you wouldn’t be talking to me,” the other me laughs “so just run from your problems and try to survive, because that’s what you do. You’re a monster, and sooner or later your friends are going to see you for who you truly are again, because we both know that I am the real you. You are the girl from the Arena, the heartless killer. You’re not the girl who fawns over Alessandro or helps Burton when he’s worrying about Holly in the Capitol. And when they see that you’re a Capitol mutt, well then they’ll turn on you, and you’ll deserve it. So get ahead of the game, and run. People don’t change, and you certainly don’t, so why try? Just be the monster you’ve always been.”
And, my heart pounding and pulse rushing, it’s those words that trigger me. I launch at the other me and she clatters to the floor, me on top of her. The knife is still in her hands and so I pin her wrist, trying to wrestle it from her hand. She’s strong, stronger than me, but eventually I can feel the cool metal and the knife is in my hand. I hold the blade to the throat of the other me.
“I don’t have to listen to your poison anymore,” I snarl
But she just looks at me, and smiles slowly, her eyes flicking to the knife.
“Feels right, doesn’t it? Still?” she asks “It’s okay, you can kill me. I am you, anyway, so I’m never going away. So just end it, and prove me right. Prove that you’re still exactly the same.”
And suddenly the dream fades as I sit up with a jolt, my face cool with tears I didn’t even know were there, and I bury my face in my hands.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 16:39:39 GMT -5
(I love her.
And I feel so bad for her, juggling with her demons and everything and yikes.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 16:40:39 GMT -5
Yeah I wanted to have a little more conflict???
Plus it was fun writing original Macaria XD evil characters are kinda fun)
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 24, 2019 17:12:44 GMT -5
Yes they are.
I’m kind of debating on a murderous little chaotic thing that’s probably psychotic or just massively has a morphed view on society.
She/he won’t exactly be a hunger games character I’m just making it :3.
Plus my kind of original idea for Holly was basically Macaria but more of a douche and less with the goal of winning.)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2019 17:16:10 GMT -5
(Ooh chaotic characters are the best XD
Original Holly sounds interesting! I like current Holly a lot though you made the right decision
I may do more writing but I need to figure out what I wanna do)
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I thought it was an interesting idea and we could totally do some writing or something about that idk I just I’m excited
.)
Macaria is definitely super protective of the like super pure characters like Ari and Burton 