Joined: 4:32 PM - Jun 19, 2013

9:47 PM - Sep 06, 2013 #16

I wanna hide the truth
I wanna shelter you
but with the beast inside
there's no where we can hide.
Clinging to the shadows of his brother was turning darker and darker as time wore on. Barley had wanted to take care of the older boy, it had been the one thing in the world he’d set himself out to do. He knew that Whilt went out of his way to take care of Barley, and he had watched just what losing the younger boy had done to his brother. But never in a million years could Barley have anticipated that it would lead Whilt to such a heavy position. He watched his brother become nothing more than a servant, with his tongue removed and red dressing him like bloodshed across the cavern walls of the Cornucopia. It had ripped the boy a part, and yet every single day he didn’t turn and walk away. The weight of the light that was waiting for him to cross into would grow weaker and weaker, as obligation to take care of those he had left behind pressed in against him, the guilt for seemingly giving up, for turning his back on the small alliance that he had built up… It had done nothing but begin to eat him alive so slowly.

Except he wasn’t alive, and he knew that now. He was a walking memory, and how was that even possible? He felt his heart beating so loudly, he heard it in his ears, but it meant nothing. The echo of his feet against cold Capitol flooring as the Games carried on in his absence was just a memory, he heard these things only because they were the things he longed to hear. He followed his brother every day, from Capitol room to Capitol room, and every day he longed to help. He would reach into the buckets for a cold rag and nothing would come out with his hand, in fact, the water wouldn’t even stir. He was a memory now, clinging to his brother.

The day that the Games had reached the final two, Barley had managed to move away from his brother slowly, though every inch of distance ripped through his chest and made him feel more and more nonexistant. He would reach distances where he couldn’t even see himself, and yet he was so certain that he was there, if only by the memory of a heartbeat that had stopped existing days ago.

He stood in silence the day that Maize, whom he had been rooting for since the last time he had laid eyes on her in the Arena, fell. He had turned away from her in the Arena that final night, he had grinned at her. He had felt it then, the weight of good bye that was best left unspoken. Barley had never been fond of good byes, because goodbyes weighed so heavily, spoke too many final volumes and he refused to ever believe that things could meet a definite end. And yet, this was a definite ending, wasn’t it? This was what was waiting for him on the other side - torment, clinging to his brothers shadows in exactly the same way that he had done from the day that he’d been born.

And why should he feel compelled to leave his brother’s side, even in death? He had made a promise to never leave the older Millet’s side, and he would not break that promise. As the games had concluded, taking far too much innocent life in it’s wake once again, Barley saw that light everyone spoke of. He felt it’s pull, dragging him in, he saw the familiar golden hair of Astrid, and Aston, and there was the comfort he had learned to find in Maize’s presence, all of it settling around him and urging him forward. But he wouldn’t go.

Barley took his next steps in the opposite direction, back to where Whilt was grouped up in the barracks with the other Avox of his age group. The closer to his brother he found himself, the further away the comfort of whatever that otherworld had offered grew. Maize’s strength, Astrid’s love, Aston’s courage… They all faded into nothingness, and all that was left was the memory of Barley Millet. In all of his broken glory, his loss and his ache, Barley did not know how to even exist without his brother. He wouldn’t leave the boy alone, not in death. He was convinced that Whilt could make out his outline here and there, and believed that it gave the older sibling comfort. So he would stay, and he would not leave Whilt’s side. Not even in death, because abandoning the ones he cared about had never been in Barley’s nature.
[+] Spoiler

Joined: 10:06 PM - Feb 04, 2013

4:04 AM - Sep 07, 2013 #17

Death had not come as a surprise to young Firenze Clayvein. Not the fact it had happened, nor the way it worked; after all Vulcan had visited him in his dreams before and had told him exactly how it worked. He was not unhappy either, he felt somewhat guilty about leaving his family behind but ever since his death the family had more money to eat so they seemed less sickly. No one had ever thought he would make it out, so it had not been a surprise to anyone when he had died, it still broke his father's heart tho.

Firenze had tried visiting his father's dreams before, like Vulcan had done with him. But it turned out they were just nightmares of the mine explosion, of both his and Vulcan's deaths. The chaos was too much, the bloodshed and the circumstances made it impossible for him to get a word in with his father. Firenze had cried at the realization that he would never be able to talk to his father again, he hoped that old Flint would be fine and that his mother would be able to step up to the plate and take care of him. But she was even more broken than before, her whole world seemed to have collapsed around her even further than it had been before.

But as always there was one silver lightning: Vulcan Clayvein. Now that he was no longer breathing, Firenze could at least from time to time be with his brother. He couldn't really ask for much more than that, except perhaps the happiness of his family but he knew that he had no control over it anymore. So he had to be at peace with the thought that they would be fine, one way or another.

Firenze didn't miss out on the victory tour, of course, he had to be there for the boy who had become his only friend after the deaths of Vulcan and Penni. He stood in the crowd next to his family, and he watched as his father nodded silently in approval as he knew the boy on the stage had done his best to protect the youngest of the Clayveins. Firenze watched as Talon made his way to the stage and started yelling at Corey, with his new-found bravery he almost followed him to the stage to try and stop him; but Vulcan's hand on his shoulder stopped him one step in, Corey couldn't hear what Talon was saying so it didn't really matter.

Nothing did, because he was dead and Corey had won so in the end good had came on top. And now Corey could go ahead and live the life he wanted and be happy forever, and meanwhile Firenze would stay there, a spec of energy that had once been a young, cowardly boy who had found his bravery just before his impending death.

And so he would remain, for the rest of eternity watching his family and hoping they would eventually catch a break while he melted with the rest of the ghosts that were refusing to let go. No one had ever said death was easy...

Joined: 3:56 PM - Feb 17, 2013

4:20 PM - Sep 07, 2013 #18

Penni stood in the crowd in front of the rusty, old Justice Building, grinning madly. In front of them stood Collie, Penni's ally during the games, and now Victor of the 44th Hunger Games. Moving easily through the crowd, Penni moved up to the front row of the stage and stared at her strange little friend.

She almost felt bad for him. Penni was free of the fear, the hunger, the poverty that living in Panem brought to everyone. Collie is going to be thrust into the strange world of the Captiol, and will have to mentor tributes of his own, who will be likely lead to their deaths. Penni wished that she could be there for him, but she knew that it was time to move on. She had tried communicating with her friends and family. Tried to leave them some sign that she was doing well, that she would be ok, and so would they. Sadly, no one picked up on her signs.

Climbing up onto the stage while Collie was talking, Penni wrapped her arms around him. She couldn't help but chuckle as she remembered the first time they had met in the arena, with Collie running around completely naked. She hoped he would get some feeling of comfort from this. She only wished him the best in life.

As the Victor Tour wrapped up, Penni moved from the stage and began to walk back to her home. As she did, everything slowly began to fade, and was being replaced by a bright white light. A tear rolled down her face as she only wished that she could tell her family good-bye one more time. Just like Collie, they would have a long, rough road ahead of them. But hopefully someday, far in the future, Penni would be reunited with them. That was all she really wanted.

Joined: 5:30 AM - Mar 23, 2013

4:25 PM - Sep 07, 2013 #19

I know
I never make this easy.
It's easier to disappear.

You said,
Give me some,
A thing that I can go on.
Together, yeah anywhere but here.
"You goddamn fucking whores!" He growled out, anger sheathing his tone and eyes darting daggers at his own casket. He never knew how to stop swearing, to stop spurring words of hate and venom, but he loved it nonetheless. It was like a warm sensation on his tongue after the words left his mouth. Talon Denning was a born snake; not in the sense that he acted like one, but the venom that snakes produced was exactly what he preferred to be classified as. "Not next to those idiots!" But they would never hear him again, would they? They'd always remember Talon Denning as the sociopath or something along those lines. Not the Victor, never the Champion, nothing. He would be a distant memory throughout District Twelve that people would end up laughing at in years to come.

His casket was soon being lowered into the ground, right next to the other dead tributes. Penni and Firenze were useless district partners from the start, and Talon should have seen that. He didn't regret the way he played either, because acting was never one of his strong suits, and acting away what he really was would be the biggest challenge a man could ever endure. Firenze was weak, so fucking weak that anyone with half a brain could see that this kid really didn't need to be in the Hunger Games. Penni was just stupid. All she really did was go prancing around District Twelve in whatever clothes she wore because the attention at home wasn't enough - she wanted all the boy's attention for herself as well. Talon, who never paid the slightest attention to Penni Dambry, was displeased at her performance and could say she was just a slut that went down on other tributes for mercy.

Talon watched with a hardened jaw as his casket was buried over with dirt. He gritted his teeth, fingers curling into his palm to make two strong fists that he wished could connect with the older men in the graveyard. He wanted to be alive again, to return to District Twelve and rip these bitches up so he could show their imperfections to the world. Talon was angry. He was never going to stop that feeling, and when he left this place for good, then he'd be plotting his return. After what seemed like an hour or so, Talon turned and began making his way from the graveyard. His legs were starting in the direction of the Justice Building, teeth clenched together and eyes rippled with indignation.

This feeling inside, it wasn't new. It was always the same hardened feeling that would go with him into the afterlife. Talon's life was ended so quickly, his fire snuffed out because the tributes were too afraid to take him on; the best part was watching them all fall. The boy from One, the girl from Two, the girl from Three and the boy from Eight. They were all useless people and had been scared from the start. Talon couldn't blame them, though. He was a terrifying individual and he prided himself on it as well. His second kill of the Hunger Games was great, but to be killed right after was a bigger pain then life its self. That - This thought was what made him bitter and made him feel good in another way. They were scared, that was why they eliminated him so early - which clearly made the Denning boy a threat. That was a positive thought in his mind, but bitter because he couldn't live out his main goal to win.

After reaching the building, Talon looked up to the stage without a clue of who he was standing next to. There stood the Victor of the 44th Hunger Games. Roadkill. Talon bit on his lower lip, teeth catching the skin that would never break, no matter how much he tried, he wanted to strangle Roadkill and stab him out after he went limp. His wish was unfortunate, because at this current moment, he wasn't living. Talon was merely a ghostly figure in the world of Panem and it was bugging him immensely. But at least it wasn't Wensy Poo, the girl from Two or the girl from Three, or even the boy from Eight, which would cause a large amount of hate to boil inside of the young man's body if either of those four tributes stood upon the stage. Needless to say, Talon was harboring a lot of mixed feelings for the boy that now stood in front of District Twelve. Did he deserve it? Talon didn't know the answer to that. Did he deserve to die? Well, Talon believed everyone deserved to take their fall, but there had to be some kind of winner in the end.

All these thoughts, and being dead was supposed to free you? Fuck, no. That wasn't the case at all. Talon believed that death was just a huge waste of time when he could be doing other things that were more important. Either way, Talon made his way up the steps and onto the stage where the boy stood. He got in close, his head leaning out towards the other boy before whispering, "Fuck you." Talon hissed before finally leaning away and snarling at the boy, then he turned on his heel and left the stage while more hate began to rush over his body. Once down from the stage, Talon turned and threw his hands up in the air. "All of you will go to fucking hell with that bitch."' He pointed towards the stage where Roadkill was, eyes on the crowd of people that made up this sad district. "And I'll be waiting for each and every one of you, because I'm not afraid to tear you all down." Talon turned for the last time towards the stage, eyes taking notice of Roadkill's form once again. "I'll be back for you, asshole. If not, you and I will meet again so I can tear out your fucking heart and stamp it against the wall. Enjoy life while you still can, and remember, there is always someone watching."

Finally, after loathing the living, Talon left the Justice Building and moved away from the area. Where was he supposed to go anyway? Wasn't he supposed to enter the light or something along those lines? After a few minutes, there was a cold hand laid against his shoulder, deliberately preventing him from walking further. Talon didn't have to turn to see who it was. He knew just from the touch that this was the same person - or creature - that spoke words to the young man when he finally stopped breathing. "I don't think you realize your own mistakes yet." The words were matched with a grin, and Talon could feel it in his tone. "What fucking mistakes?" He couldn't quite grasp what this thing was talking about. But he knew something. This thing held the same evil that Talon did.

"You made the mistake of leaving the previous area you were in. Those caves or whatever they were called. You weren't smart enough to believe that someone would be coming in your direction, so like the ignorant person you really are Talon, you took your leave and was killed right after." The young man stood silently at those words, dark eyes transfixed on the ground ahead and lips parted for something to force out - but weirdly enough, nothing came out - at least not right away. "What do you want?" He inquired, head hanging low and waiting patiently for the next following words. "I don't want anything." The hand was soon lifted from Talon's shoulder and the view before him changed swiftly.

From the clear white blanket that stretched along the land, and the same white coating that took its place on the trees. Talon could tell he was somewhere else, somewhere far from District Twelve. He looked up to the sky, white flakes dropping gracefully and joining the white blanket on the ground. Talon growled and started through the snow, eyes narrowing forwards and taking in the view ahead - but what was it? He had to get a little more closer, but before then, his mind was already filling with questions.

Once close enough, Talon stopped and could see twenty five pedestals from where he was standing. The young man had no idea what was going on, but regardless of that, he began to move again, each step forwards making the image more clearer for Talon Denning to understand.

Talon was finally standing near the metal structure, hand reaching out to touch a pedestal and gazing idly over its appearance. Talon remembered being lifted into the 44th for the first time, feet staying put and not allowing the young man to move from his spot. He shook his head at the memory and then turned towards the mouth of the Cornucopia, eyes draining when something caught his attention. His legs started to work again, curious side taking over and quickly ushering his body inside of the metal structure. After entering, he quickly regretted it, because soon after stepping inside, a metal door closed him off from the beautiful scenery outside and was soon filling up the structure with blood.

Well, that was exactly what it looked like.

Blood was quickly filling the Cornucopia, but Talon stood calm and waited for it to cover his body. He remembered to close his eyes, to remember that he'd come back and take his anger out on all of Panem's citizens. When time lapsed over some more, Talon opened his eyes again and took in the view of a new world - a world of fire that not only sparked his interest, but made feel happy. Talon grinned and when his body began descending downwards; a laugh emerged. "I'm ready." He told himself, and there was a voice inside of his head that also agreed with his decision to return to the familiar place. Once he was on his feet, that cold hand from before touched his shoulder again and slid something into Talon's grasp, eyes soon dropping to find a battle axe. "I hope you enjoy your stay, Denning." The voice seemingly pleased by its tone, and when Talon swung the given weapon in the open space ahead, a sound of approval echoed from his lips before actual words came flowing out.

"I'm already enjoying it."
And I'm begging you,
Bring me back to life,
I just can't stand leaving you alone tonight.
It's too late to go,
Already taken me forever just to try to know.
One for the money, two for the show,
Three to get ready, and four to go.
For the life of me,
I don't know why it took me so long to see.