Fire Is Lovely [Meghan]

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1f; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Jim McCoy

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 141414; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 5px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 0px 0px;] district three . male . tribute of the 65th annual hunger games

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000000; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] "Dialogue" "Hearing" "Thoughts" Narration Jim wanted to learn how to build a fire. Fire would be an important skill to learn. It seemed like one of the most important things to learn. In the coming days in the arena, he would need to know how to make a fire to keep warm and heat up potential food. "I wonder if I can avoid attention by just training here." It seemed silly to him. Someone will eventually come over to the station and learn how to build a fire. "I just need to grasp the knowledge of fire before more people come to the station." Jim looked at the trainer. He needed to soak any and all information that could possibly fit into his tiny brain. Glancing around to see if any was near him, he grabbed a match and some practice material to start a fire. Striking the match and lighting the material a small fire appeared. "The fire smells good." The fire was emitting such a good smell. Oddly enough the fire probably didn't smell as good to him as maybe the trainer in front of him, but he found the fire oddly relaxing. His whole body loosened up being near the fire.

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[Meghan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: black; border: white solid 3px; width: 348px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Birch, Beatrice. t r i b u t e .

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my hands are searching for you
my arms are outstretched towards you
I feel you on my fingertips
my tongue dances behind my lips for you
this fire rising through my being
burning I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive, I'm alive.

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This whole fiasco was a waste of my time, and I'm sure merely only provided as an opportunity to show off. The Capitol did not truly care to teach those who were ignorant of survival how to live longer than long enough to get themselves killed by the true heroes slaves. Most tributes had only one purpose, to die.

This week was merely a showcase of our brilliance, so to speak. or theirs. Did they succeed in keeping us in line for yet another year? Could we aim our bows and swing our swords and scare the idiots who worked for us shitless while we were at it? Or were we just as useless as the rest of them, just as futile, just as forgotten.

Yes. Yes we were. There was no denying that much.

"Damn, when did I become such a philosophizer?" What happened to the sweet girl who took care of her big brother when he came home drunk. Who washed away the blood and hid the wounds of the streets from the never-ending questions of those who were too stupid to truly understand? What happened to the girl who had a never-ending hoping in life? Who wanted to see herself succeed, to live, to fall in love?

That girl must be dying, a little bit each day. When would she truly be gone? When would this new monster take her place? Who had I become?

I couldn't just stand here in my thoughts. I needed to do something to distract myself or else the entire training center ran the risk of facing my loosely controlled wrath. But what could I do?

I stuck my hands into my pockets for comfort, a habit I had formed the minute I chose my rough-looking leather coat from deep within the forgotten side of the Capitol closet. It reminded me of home, or what used to be home and it was dual purpose. It brought both comfort and convenience.

Nobody would ever expect to be murdered outside the arena, would they? Yet I had prepared myself to do exactly that, if somebody were to be stupid enough to be attack me. Or worse. Three am, the first day, I had snuck down and picked the most dangerous dagger. Laced in poison and covered in my love. Mess with me and you die.

Too many people had tried to hurt me back home for me to give any considerations. Tried to force me into things against my will. And damn't, I was broken enough. That wasn't going to happen anymore. You couldn't trust people here, you couldn't give a second thought or a moment of pity. They were all aiming to kill you in the end anyway.

There she was again. That girl. I still didn't recognize her, and I still didn't want to. No, the dagger had to remain hidden until further notice. What else did I have?

No token, for what did I own that I loved? The only thing I truly cared about was already gone.

A box of matches. Oh, well this could be fun. But how? I tried to grab a new box or two each day, if only for my own amusement. But what were my opportunities right now? My eyes scanned the room from my perch against the wall.

District three, the boy. Young and innocent. Two words often used together, but him especially. Much like Ezra. If Cass could trust Ez, hell, even love him enough to trust his final moments to him, then I could talk to this boy.

"We'll see," I cluck to myself as I push myself away from my tower of observation and secure my sword to my back. Hey, at least I'm armed if he pulls any funny business. I even have my knife, and my matches. I doubt he understands what he's doing. Most people don't. Maybe I'll show him a thing or two, like a little pupil. Might as well be a little charitable today.

Couldn't hurt to be nice.

"You have to make a base of coals," I snap, moving his hands to correct the fire. Idiot. I need to be nice, but oh boy do they make it difficult. He's probably got it hard, all alone in the capitol with no friends. But jesus, what do I look like? A saint?

"Like this, with the little ones at the bottom. It's not that hard."

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Word Count: 773 lol wut is a blitz is that a reindeer is this da north pole where is north halp me guis I cant[/size]

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1f; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Jim McCoy

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 141414; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 5px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 0px 0px;] district three . male . tribute of the 65th annual hunger games

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000000; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] "Dialogue" "Hearing" "Thoughts" Narration "You have to make a base of coals," The voice came out of nowhere or so it seemed to Jim. The voice startled him, but only because his mind wasn't exactly paying attention to the world. The fire smelled good which helped relax him a lot. Suddenly a pair of hands moved his, and helped correct the fire. The action brought about surprise and shock to his face. Who was this person and why did they help him? "Like this, with the little ones at the bottom. It's not that hard." Again the stranger was helping him or at least Jim thought it was help. "I knew it. More people are coming over here. All I wanted was to learn about fire and get out before I was noticed, but I didn't do anything yet with fire." "Thanks for the help. I was just enjoying the smell of the fire. Its helped me relax just being in the vicinity of it. I bet it's silly huh?" Jim hoped the stranger didn't laugh at him. Eventually he would have to learn some combat skills in order to defend himself in the arena, but right now training with fire kept him calm and relaxed. "I want to be alone. I bet I look foolish and silly in front of you." Glad that the stranger couldn't read his mind, Jim continued to look at the fire. It would mean life and death in the arena. His plan to submerge himself in the shadows didn't work. He was noticed, and by the sounds of it the stranger was also a tribute. "So what brought you here? I hope I wasn't too much of an embarrassment. I just love fire and the many possible things one can do with it." Jim wanted to be kind to the stranger. He did want to be alone, but now that someone was over at the station with him, then it wouldn't do him any harm to be himself. Turning his head to meet the stranger, he offered a sincere smile to the person. Looking back the trainer, he got up and decided to attempt a more difficult means of making fire with harder materials. It wouldn't do him any good to rely on matches and wood when the matches might not even be in the arena. "I don't want to be an embarrassment to anyone. I just want to prove that I have a chance to live."

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://24.media.tumblr.com/9952ccb88477578adca762a792b401ad/tumblr_muguskEkey1s2whrio1_500.jpg); border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 250px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;]

[Meghan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: black; border: white solid 3px; width: 348px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Birch, Beatrice. t r i b u t e .

[/right][/size][/blockquote]

my hands are searching for you
my arms are outstretched towards you
I feel you on my fingertips
my tongue dances behind my lips for you
this fire rising through my being
burning I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive, I'm alive.

[/color][/size]

Filler #2 She's going to call him an idiot and then start to talk about how fire isn't something to be smelled it's something to be respected and if he doesn't respect it then it's going to come back to bite him in the ass. Decides to show him what fire can really do.

Memory #1
Her first mistake with fire and what happened when it hurt her. She shares this with him and really emphasizes her mistakes.

Memory #2
Her first success with fire and how she learned to tame it. SHe shares this with him and explains how it felt to control what she once considered a beast.

She begins to pile items she believes to be unimportant in a pile and coats them in tar. She'll show him how to make fire out of anything. It looks really cool. Tells him to try. She wants him to fail.

Your turn to filler, brah.

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Word Count: 0[/s][/size]

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1f; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Jim McCoy

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 141414; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 5px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 0px 0px;] district three . male . tribute of the 65th annual hunger games

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000000; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] "Dialogue" "Hearing" Thoughts Narration reponse to filler 2: Jim watches Beatrice show him what fire can do. response to memory 1: Apologizes for the pain she suffered even though it wasn't his fault. response to memory 2: Congratulates Beatrice. Attempts fire. Most likely fails, but only because he's nervous.

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://oi44.tinypic.com/166j62u.jpg); border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 246px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;]

[Meghan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: black; border: white solid 3px; width: 348px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Birch, Beatrice. t r i b u t e .

[/right][/size][/blockquote]

my hands are searching for you
my arms are outstretched towards you
I feel you on my fingertips
my tongue dances behind my lips for you
this fire rising through my being
burning I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive, I'm alive.

[/color][/size]

Filler #3 In this filler Beatrice is going to get really frustrated with Jim for not being able to perform what she views as a really simple task. She's going to yell at him for a long time about how stupid she thinks he's being and how if he could only concentrate a little harder he could just do it. She might even slip into another memory where she's her parents and he's her and she begins to yell at herself.

This will only be conveyed because she calls him by her own name "Beatrice! Just light the god-damn wood on fire already, you fucking idiot."

She'll realize what she's done and she'll stop mid-sentence and just gawk at him, her fourteen years evident across her young face.

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Word Count: 0[/s][/size]

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1f; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Jim McCoy

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 141414; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 5px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 0px 0px;] district three . male . tribute of the 65th annual hunger games

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000000; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] "Dialogue" "Hearing" Thoughts Narration response to filler 3: Jim will show fear. He wont deny his failure, but seeing Beatrice's reaction and following actions will confuse him. Once she gawks, he will attempt to defuse the tension with a joke about having two names.

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://oi44.tinypic.com/166j62u.jpg); border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 246px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;]

[Meghan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: black; border: white solid 3px; width: 348px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Birch, Beatrice. t r i b u t e .

[/right][/size][/blockquote]

my hands are searching for you
my arms are outstretched towards you
I feel you on my fingertips
my tongue dances behind my lips for you
this fire rising through my being
burning I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive, I'm alive.

[/color][/size]

Filler #4 Beatrice will be flabbergasted at herself. Did she really let herself slip that deep into the memories? Did she drop her guard far enough in front of a kid so idiotic that she called him by something so moronic as her own name? She would want to deny it of course, and she would. She would blubber to him, laugh, go through a range of emotions before settle on a lie. She would twist the truth and claim that he is the liar, that he made up the story to make her look bad and that she was the good hero just trying to help him learn to build a fire and why did he have to accuse her of such things.

She may even get angry.

But she wouldn't really have the heart for it, she wouldn't really feel it. She would most just be disappointed that she had let herself slip in such a way.

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Word Count: 0[/s][/size]

[Malachor Erso D2 (Cato)]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1f; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Jim McCoy

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 141414; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 5px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 20px 0px 0px 0px;] district three . male . tribute of the 65th annual hunger games

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000000; border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] "Dialogue" "Hearing" Thoughts Narration response to filler 4: Jim will probably end up somehow agreeing with Beatrice. Angry Beatrice will terrify him to an extend, which he doesnt want to see again.

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://oi44.tinypic.com/166j62u.jpg); border: 000000 solid 0px; width: 500px; height: 246px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;]

[Meghan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: black; border: white solid 3px; width: 348px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;] Birch, Beatrice. t r i b u t e .

[/right][/size][/blockquote]

my hands are searching for you
my arms are outstretched towards you
I feel you on my fingertips
my tongue dances behind my lips for you
this fire rising through my being
burning I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive, I'm alive.

[/color][/size]

Filler #5 Beatrice will consider hurting Jim, just for the heck of it. But then change her mind and snuff the last of the fire out by spitting on her fingers and rubbing the coals between her hands. She wants to intimidate him.

She'll glare for just a moment, and then turn slowly away.

"Watch your back, McCoy. You don't know who you can trust in the arena." She'll declare and then disappear, off to her own devices once again.

End of fillers for me. Wrap it up, Mr. Cato!

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Word Count: 0[/s][/size]