Muskox Labinnac | D9 [fin] | Hunger Games: The RPG

semper
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Muskox Labinnac | D9 [fin] Aug 5, 2012 19:20:22 GMT -5

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Post by semper on Aug 5, 2012 19:20:22 GMT -5

Name: MUSKOX
Age: 17 or 18
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 1
Appearance:

Personality:

AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA JOKES ALL AROUND I LOVE TO TRICK PEOPLE AND MAKE THEM APPEAR LIKE IDIOTS IN FRONT OF EVERYONE AND THEN EAT THEM WITH MY BROTHER AND SISTER OH BTW I'M A CANNIBAL AND DAMN PROUD OF IT AND I'LL EAT YOU ALIVE

History:

POOR MAMA DIDN'T KNOW WHAT SHE WAS GETTING INTO WITH ALL OF US AND I STARTED OUT EATING FROGS RAW BUT THEN DHAVAL AND AKASHA STARTED TO EAT PEOPLE AND IT WAS FUN AS HELL AAHHAHAAHHA

Codeword: odair
Comments/Other:

Last Edit: Aug 9, 2012 6:42:22 GMT -5 by semper

i hear the mountains calling me home

semper
Retired Staff

2,354 POSTS
last seen Jan 1, 2014 0:57:11 GMT -5

Muskox Labinnac | D9 [fin] Aug 5, 2012 19:25:57 GMT -5

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Post by semper on Aug 5, 2012 19:25:57 GMT -5

MUSKOX LABINNAC

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POOR BOY

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It hadn’t been a fair trial at all. The boy was only seventeen or eighteen, having hardly experienced the world outside of District Nine, and yet they were condemning him to death by hanging. That old oak tree on the edge of town, a branch with the bark worn down from constant friction by a rope. The noose gently sways in the breeze, the drooping circle like a lazy eye staring you down.

YOU'RE

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They drag the boy across the dirt with little regard for rocks scraping his lightly tanned skin. The brown dust coats him with noticeable splotches, though drops of dark crimson blood slowly ooze down, leaving nearly black streaks of mud. Unlike your old withered body, the boy’s is firm, hard-packed with muscles that have worked dirty and shameful acts. Even in his beaten state, you can still see the muscles working underneath his skin; the curves of his biceps, the protrusion of his collarbone, the soft dents between abs. You’re surprised that he isn’t struggling against the rope that’s tied around his hands or even the people dragging him by his arms. Why not fight back? The lad certainly looks strong enough. His legs, looking just as strong as his upper body, are stretched out behind him bound with another rope at the ankles. It must be fairly tight because even though there is a fine layer of dirt on him, you can see the red, irritated skin that touches the rope.

He turns his face, blue-grey eyes looking up at the two men hauling him. Then his gaze drifts toward you. It’s nowhere near a saddened gaze; his face – slightly narrow with a hard jawline that always seems to have stubble – holds almost a welcoming look. He isn’t afraid of his sentence, but then again, when was he ever afraid? You have never seen fear cross that scar-riddled face. The boy cracks you a grin; between his crooked and pointed teeth, you see bits of flesh and skin. His chin is red with what you can only imagine is dried blood, probably from the last person he ate. You remember that that was the reason they were executing him in the first place: he had been caught with his teeth sunk into a bound and gagged District citizen that was squirming underneath his bite, sobbing silently. There’s no doubt in your mind that he is a sick boy, but still you feel guilty for it having to end like this. You still believe he could have changed if given the chance, but no one wanted to give him that chance. Maybe it’s the sinister gleam that permanently occupies his eyes, or the grim smirk he always makes. Nothing about the lad strikes you as friendly, especially all the scars on him, probably from people trying to fight back as he bit into them, tearing out chunks of flesh.

BOUND

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They stand him up on a chair, just high enough so that his neck reaches the noose. It’s a shame, you think, to see him take the fall for his siblings: his twin brother and older sister. They were in on the crime just as much as he was, but it was the youngest lad that let himself be caught. It’s a fact that he loves his siblings, but something hints at you that it’s a little more than the typical family love. The way he looks at his siblings is nearly lustful, the same way you used to look at your wife when you first married her. It’s unnerving to think that someone could observe their sibling in such a way, but who are you to judge? You love your brothers and sister though most of them are dead. You have heard rumors about him, though: that he sleeps with his brother and sister in a way he shouldn’t. The concept of that is so foreign and grotesque to you that you grimace at the boy on the chair, almost thinking that it’s justified for him to be hanged.

You have also heard that he thinks life is all a joke. It’s obvious from the way he’s joshing with the executioner that it’s true. The boy has no sense of when to be serious, no matter what the situation is. He laughs in the face of death and the faces of others, stabbing everyone in the back as soon as they turn around. He doesn’t keep his promises for anyone but his siblings, and even then his words are only half full of meaning while the rest is rocky. It is hard to ever get a straight or honest answer from him.

The lad flashes the gathering crowd the same smirk he gave you, the flesh chunks and dried blood all over his mouth. He preys on the weaker and isn’t afraid to taunt the stronger. You know he knows his strength, but it’s the stupid people that are willing to challenge the better. You came across him once, while leaving the bakery, and he ran into on the street. Just a simple bump of the shoulder, but it was enough to knock the warm bread from your hands. The lad had whirled on you, yelling that you needed to watch where you were going. He even went so far as to spit at the bread on the ground and kick dirt onto it. The boy is rude, no doubt. Your sympathetic feelings for him begin to vanish and you silently wish the executioner would get rid of this boy faster. The District could do without senseless people like him.

TO

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You remember the mother of the Labinnac children: she was kind, caring, and adored the three young people when they were born. You frequently passed her on your way to work; the twins gave her quite a lot of trouble. The older one wasn’t as obnoxious as the younger – the one being hanged – and whenever the mother would lose sight of them, she always found the youngest with a frog in his mouth. The poor creature was always struggling and croaking, webbed feet pawing at the child’s jaw and trying to escape. Once while passing them, you distinctly remember hearing a noisy squeak, and when you turned around you saw the youngest boy tearing off a frog’s leg with his teeth. His hands pulled at the little trembling body while his teeth were firmly biting down on the thigh, tugging so hard that his pointed teeth tore the skin and flesh, leaving nothing but bones and ligaments behind. The poor creature. His mother quickly swatted the mutilated frog away, scolding the boy, but he whirled right around and picked the tortured creature up, sticking the other leg in his mouth and doing the same thing. Then he chewed up the peeled skin and muscle, cackling and even opening his mouth to show the mushy, bloody mix off to his siblings.

As the years drug on, you watched the children grow up, but they still acted the same. Or the youngest one still did, at least. The frogs were becoming more and more common with the youngest, some of them half devoured and the others still in tact. The boys grew bigger and stronger while the sister became more sleek and elegant. The rumors also began to spread around that time, and there were a few of them that you remember distinctly. There was the one about the siblings going and committing small crimes, and that one you believed. Plenty of people were complaining about missing items. But then they spiraled out of control.

Others murmured that the Labinnac siblings were having relations with each other. The mere thought of that made you sick to your stomach. You often got into arguments with your coworkers about the plausibility of such a taboo, but everyone swore by it. You reluctantly agreed to say that their rumors were true; but in the coming weeks, you came to realize that your friends were right. Once in a while you would spot two of the three holding hands or something of the sort. At first you thought it was just playful but as more rumors turned up, it happened to be far worse. Something you would never have thought of and it was more grotesque than even stripping live frogs of their leg flesh and skin. After that you firmly decided to ignore the Labinnac family, deeming them far too gone to be saved.

DIE

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The executioner loudly proclaims the crimes of the lad, who merely is smirking at the crowd. He asks a question but the boy doesn’t listen; not that it would matter if he did or not. Either way they’re still going to extinguish his meager life.

You watch as they snatch the chair out from under him. It’s hard to think that he even had time to register what was happening before the sickening sound of his neck snapping came. For a brief moment to close your eyes, as if to recover from the sight, but when you open them again you see the boy’s lifeless body dangling from the end of the rope. It’s a shame to have watched the poor boy die, but in the end it had to be done.

As people start to leave, you shake your head and turn your back to the swaying body. It’s a beautiful evening lighting up the sky and it’s been a long day, so you figure you should go out for coffee. You walk away from the dead lad, leaving with him the memories of a disturbed family.

hang down your head muskox
hang down your head and cry
hang down your head muskox
poor boy you're bound to die

TOM DOOLEY

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Last Edit: Aug 9, 2012 6:42:02 GMT -5 by semper

i hear the mountains calling me home

semper Retired Staff 2,354 POSTS last seen Jan 1, 2014 0:57:11 GMT -5	Muskox Labinnac \| D9 [fin] Aug 9, 2012 6:43:45 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by semper on Aug 9, 2012 6:43:45 GMT -5 skjglw,kn,sm completededed [/size]
	i hear the mountains calling me home

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen Apr 25, 2024 1:24:42 GMT -5	Muskox Labinnac \| D9 [fin] Aug 13, 2012 3:40:12 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2012 3:40:12 GMT -5