look what the cat dragged in // jay family

[freshy ☼]

_x

persiajay ,

The moment his name was uttered at the reaping, Persia knew Jabber was dead meat.

At first the escort's words fell on deaf ears, just a dull ringing that could only be picked up by the keenest of ears. Persia didn't really care for the Capitol or their charades anymore. She'd already played their game, and she'd let herself be moved whatever way she wanted. Now, she was off the gameboard, stored away in a box full of broken toys and memories that served no point in keeping. It was a pleasant feeling, being forgotten. She hadn't exactly exchanged friendly words with the Jays the last time they had spoken. Eleven years with them was far too much for someone to handle. It was just a surreal blur of harsh words, cigarette smoke and wild red hair falling into her eyes as she stormed out of the house, never to look back.

Her eyes were trained on the stage, the escort's identity forgotten even after years of suffering through her tired banter and shrill cries. As she drew the names from the glass bowls, and spoke into the carbon microphone, her hearing suddenly kicked back into full effect. Everything went in slow motion now, and loud shrieks met her ears. It was like she could taste the escort's words on her own lips. It was a disgusting taste, and the cigarette that she balanced between her teeth fell to the ground. At first Persia didn't recognize the names called. Then it slowly began to sink in, as she realized that the cries came from her own family.

Rewind.

"It is time," he said as he stood over the impatient people of the District, "To once again send two of our own children to the Capitol to compete in the Hunger Games. Let us begin the Reaping!"

He did not look to see the reaction of his district before reaching into the glass ball that held the names of the female children. "Ladies first," he announced, pulling out a slip of paper. He unfolded it and read out to the crowd, "Akasha Labinnac!" He then reached into the other ball. "Jabber Jay!"

Jabber. Why was that name so familiar? She'd only heard it a few times in her life. Mostly in her family. They tossed it around like some old toy that had suffered through years of teething, dragging around in the mud, and leaving it out in the snow too long. She had to keep replaying the last moment in her mind over and over, to make sure she had heard correctly.

Jabber.

Jabber Jay.

Jabber Jay.

Hey, that's funny. My last name is Jay too. Persia took a moment to let the shock set in, and her jaw dropped. Shit. The escort had just called the name of one of her cousins, someone whose name she'd had to write on the back of her hand for weeks to remember. He was just a broken thirteen-year-old when they had met. A week later, and he was the most annoying kid known to man, and one of the biggest reasons that Persia drifted away from the Jays and became independent. And now, three years later, and he was being shipped off to his death. And Persia could only watch.

She lurked around the Justice Building that day, watching as her family entered and exited with either grim looks on their faces or tears shining in their eyes. She earned quite an amount of suspicious glares from Peacekeepers, but for the most part she went unnoticed. Even by the visitors of the female tribute. She contemplated stepping in and offering her condolences to the family, but then a surprising visitor appeared in Jabber's room.

Persia tried desperately to hear their conversation, peering in the doorway and trying to slow her heavy breathing.

"Regain my faith in the family, Jabber."

Persia only laughed at Juliette's parting words and stepped back as she walked out of the room. Jabber would not be able to win the Games. The odds were rarely ever in the favor of the underdogs. They were called underdogs for a reason; they were meant to be trampled underfoot and treated like trash. Persia would be surprised if he even made it past the top twelve.

She milled around the town square for days, acting nonchalant as if Jabber were not going to set foot in that arena in a week. District Nine didn't have many victors, and none in the past decade. He would not win. It would be impossible for him to take home the crown. The Jays had very little control over their own lives. It seemed that Blue and Gray couldn't keep their pants on either, for them to have eight kids.

Though, the taste of smoke on her lips was bitter now, and she dropped the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. Persia's hope in Jabber was almost non-existent, though when a promising '7' appeared on the screen, topping District Three entirely, she could not stop the ghost of a smile from appearing on her face.

The night prior to the Bloodbath, Persia could not sleep. She lay on the sofa, fiddling with the torn leather, staring blankly at the television screen. Everyone was flashing smiles, (except the poor kid from District 8) decked out in their prettiest attire, laughing like ninnies and pretending nothing was wrong. Jabber seemed beyond ecstatic, the total opposite of how he had acted in the Justice Building. He was keeping up the facade of that happy, humorous dreamer that everybody loved back home. Though, it was what he said next that made Persia's teeth grind and her blood boil.

Rewind.

"How confident do you feel about the games now that you've seen your training score?" Caesar asked, offering Jabber a broad, mocking smile. Jabber mirrored his expression, appearing to be making an extra effort to make his grin wider and more cheesy than the clown himself.

"A training score is only a number to me. I'm confident that I can go places. After all, everyone likes an underdog."

No. That was strike one. Big mistake.

Persia stood up, quickly grabbing the remote and flicking off the television. "You have no damn clue how wrong you are, Jabber Jay," she spat at the screen. Even if he was here, standing in earshot, his hot, panicked breaths brushing against her freckled cheeks, her bitter words would still fall on deaf ears. They always did. Why else would the Jays have let her walk out that day?

Why would they let Juliette leave too?

---

Persia may as well have been in the arena with them. She muted the volume so she didn't have to hear the labored breathing of tributes, or hear their hearts beating out of their chests. She didn't want to hear the countdown, hear the screams as people were mercilessly slaughtered by their peers, people who should've been their friends instead of raising their weapons in battle. There were several tributes milling around one poor soul, swinging their weapons down with loud, brutish cries. In the midst of all the blood-spattered chaos, Persia was able to identify one terrified face, stained with blood and tears, and half swollen.

Jabber.

Persia unconsciously picked up the remote, pressing the mute button. The sounds of the Bloodbath roared in her ears, shouts overlapping each other. The wails ripping out of Jabber's throat though were almost animal-like, so overwhelming to Persia's ears that she had to turn down the television again and sink back between the sofa cushions, closing her eyes. Her cousin was actually dying. She had abandoned her family for her own selfish reasons, leaving them to cope with their broken souls and mixed emotions while another family member was cruelly ripped away from them.

The cameras were finally focusing on something other than the carnage at the Cornucopia, and Jabber lay in the middle of a clearing, swollen lips slowly forming broken, unintelligible words. Normally, during the Games, people tended to say and do things they would regret later, as if they forgot that their every move was being tracked. But Jabber knew the world was watching. And he was living up to his name by pouring out his heart in a dramatic speech. Persia turned up the volume once more, listening to him drone on comin' up like word vomit and apologize for things he had done.

Persia could not bear to listen to him anymore. Jabber was bringing out a side of Persia that she'd been trying to hide for years. Showing emotion had no purpose; why was Jabber Jay forcing tears into her eyes now?

Persia wiped her eyes dry, shielding her view of the screen. She tried her best to tune out his words, but her efforts were rendered useless. "Persia?" She opened her eyes, brushing her tangled red locks out of her face. Jabber was speaking to her now. He remembered her. He was the only Jay that remembered her. It was like her heart was being torn out of her chest, bleeding out beside Jabber. The only Jay that bothered to remember her name, the only one who cared, was dying now.

"Wherever you are, if you're even still alive, just know that I'm sorry that I never even bothered to find you."

I am alive. Just forgotten. Persia stood up, twisting the knob on the television and watching the screen dissolve to static. Thanks to Jabber, the Jays would know she was still around. She didn't have to make another name for herself. Jabber had already done that. She picked up her messenger bag and slung it over her shoulder, taking a deep breath. No matter the consequences, she was marching her ass down to the Jays' household right now and making sure she was known.

Her housemate looked up at her in concern, narrowing her eyes. "Persia? Where are you going?" she asked warily. Persia did not look back at her housemate, but instead presented her middle finger to her as a goodbye.

"Out."

---

Persia stood on the front porch of the Jays' house, and the gloomy aura around it made her spirits sink lower into the dust. A sloppy scowl plastered across her face, she lifted her hand and prepared to knock on the door. Persia paused though, her fist tightening until her own blood was drawn, and her knuckles were as white as snow. She was here to make sure the Jays kept her fresh in their memory. She was not here for redemption, or to even try to renew her bad reputation in anyway.

That was not how Persia Jay did things.

Her foot went flying through the air, hitting the door with a sharp bang. The pale wood splintered on impact, and there was a loud creaking as the front door was separated from its rusty hinges. Timber. There was a loud moan as the door went down, landing on the floor with a thud. Persia had just broken into her own house. And she stepped over the mess of wood fragments like it was nothing, smirking.

"Surprise," she chuckled. "I guess the cat dragged me in, huh?"

[Tom]

Thinking Writing Says Hears Lyrics

Life wasn't great in the Jay house at the moment. Family members, mainly Fawn were mourning Jabber. Mocking on one hand was mourning, but really he felt more of a failure. Someone who did the wrong thing and affected everyone else's life. The family had been ripped of one good soul. A soul that may have talked forever, but a good one still. There was boy, a boy somewhere in the sky with his mouth moving faster than ever telling people of the heavens about his family and what they do and how great they were. The words of the boy who talked. The words that flew from the heavens to everywhere.

Mocking remembers one of the first days he meet Jabber. Mocking had been jumping round, hyper as he always was for adventure. He ate what was there of his breakfast, but Blue and Gray sat there with him, and the rest of the family. Blue and Gray waited until they were finished, but something was missing and Mocking couldn't put his finger on it. Then he realized, Jabber wasn't there at the table. Mocking had his suspicions. He swore that Jabber was a secret agent from the capitol who was going to steal his family away.

Mocking being the ninja that he is snuck around the house after being excused of course. Mocking was right outside of Jabber's room, when he stopped. A sob or two was being heard coming from the smaller boy. Mocking's big brother instincts kicked in. Sure he may have been a cousin, but Mocking was starting to consider him a brother already, even if he had his suspicions. Mocking came into the room, to see Jabber on his bed. Mocking sat down at the foot of the bed. Mocking's hand made it's way to Jabber's back, to soothe the pain and sorrow from Jabber's life.

Mocking spoke in a soft tone. "It's ok Jabber. No need to cry, You got family here." Mocking sat on Jabber's bed for awhile, just soothing him, until he fell asleep.

[/I]

Mocking woke up from his trance and memory. That was one of the first times Mocking had actually felt bad for the boy. The world felt silent now. Silent without the boy who talked for ever. Mocking's attention was back on the table as he leaned against the counter that was for the sink in the kitchen. The Jay house was going through a low point, but Mocking was going to cheer it up no matter what anyone said. Especially Fawn, she needed more cheering up than anything.

The world felt silent, until a crash came from the front of the house. Mocking had a feeling it was a robber or some crook, who was here to kill the family. Mocking swiftly moved around the Kitchen, knocking over the table and a lamp and a few chairs as he reached for the knife that was in the drawer. Mocking held it protectively like Jabber had did in the games. Maybe Jabber was a secret agent out to get them, and this girl who by the way stood at the door still, was like out to get Mocking for not saving him.

Mocking was about to pounce the girl, when her voice rang out into every corner of the house.[/color] "Surprise, I guess the cat dragged me in, huh?" Who the hell was she? This girl seemed familiar, but he knows he hasn't seen her before. Mocking held the knife protectively as he stepped out from behind the wall. Mocking's voice rang out, "Mocking Jay Security, Identify yourself! Who the hell are you? and Why did you break in here?" Mocking held the knife up in defense. Who the hell was she and why did she destroy the door? Mocking was a bit freaked out, more like throbbing in adrenaline. It's flight or fight and Mocking choose Fight, that's for sure.

Mocking began making his way closer to her, when his foot caught something and a shelf fell. Mocking just nodded it off and stood closer now. She was someone Mocking just doesn't trust, pretty and dangerous looking. Who the hell smirks after she is threatened with a knife? Oh wait, this girl does that is standing in front of the dare devil. Things just got a lot louder in the Jay house. And they thought Jabber was bad.[/size][/center]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000E0F; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] Stellar versus the homework. Ma had already given me my homework, opting to throw it next to me on the couch instead of leaving it on my desk as she usually did, and the stack hadn’t moved since she left it there in the morning. I hadn’t left the couch either since the morning, alternating between napping and thinking to keep myself preoccupied. If I had a choice, I would have been outside, playing with my siblings—if they were up to it. I knew Fawn was still recuperating as was probably Storm, but was Red okay? Violet? We had all tried to protect the youngest child of the family from the harsh realities of the world, but there was no way they could have shielded her from Jabber’s death. It was so quiet in the house—not necessarily a bad thing, but with a big household like ours, almost near impossible. I couldn’t even hear Mocking make contact with the ground as he no doubt failed yet another stunt, or Mist clattering about the house and making a ruckus as she usually did. Ma hadn’t nagged him the whole morning either—any other time, I would have called this a blessing, but I knew why everyone was so unfocused. Jabber was no longer gone from the household, he was gone. There was nothing we could have done about it, but I could tell that everyone felt guilty as I saw the numbers on their faces mirror another. It was…saddening to see my family so broken down, yet was I accepting the death any better? I probably would have stayed on the couch and stared since no one had even bothered to talk to me the whole day so far. I didn’t mind that idea at all, but a part of me was expecting someone to break the silence and tell me to do something, which I would have grunted out a “nope” unless it sounded exciting and fun. Instead, the most movement that occurred between me and the stack of homework was the slight flapping of the top page. Looking at the stack, I raised an eyebrow and shrugged at it. Ma had to pull a few favors in order to get these packets—really that was too much effort—and she thought I would be able to get a head start into my future if I worked on them. The only problem was I would have to use the numbers that were still floating around as I looked at the wall. It was even worse when they looked like they were attached to the wall. A loud noise that sounded like someone was kicking the front door took my attention away from the numbers on the wall and at the figure in the doorway as the door fell to the ground. Crap, they’re going to make me help with fixing that. I looked away from the door to see who it exactly was at the door. I couldn’t recognize her—I barely knew what my own siblings looked like—and the numbers that were popping up and sticking her to her figure weren’t helping any. She mentioned something about a cat and she chuckled after that, but I didn’t get what was so funny and I didn’t think I was that bad when it came to humor. She sucked at being funny. More clattering happened which could only have been Mocking as he ran into the scene with a knife in his hand. He identified himself as “Mocking Jay Security”, the stupidest thing I had heard from his mouth in the seventeen years I knew him, and he interrogated the girl as he kept holding that knife. He walked closer to her—making a shelf fall at the same time—and I knew I had to step in before Mocking actually did something stupid. It didn’t seem like the girl was trying to do any harm besides to the door, but my brother looked like he was going to fight her even if she only squeaked. “Mocking, do you know how stupid you look right now? And I mean more stupid than you already are. Put the knife down before you make the house break down anymore.” I couldn’t take it any more. Who the hell was this girl, though? I looked over at her, using the numbers to help me out. Nope, nothing. “Who are you? And what did the front door ever do to you?”

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 312C17; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 12 0px] STELLAR JAY | JAY FAMILY PLOT | PLAY BY: TOM HUGHES

[knuckles]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 03000C; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true] Jabber is dead. I can't believe Jabber is actually dead. I don't want to believe it. I never dreamed it was possible, but apparently it was possible because he's gone forever. He's went to live with the forest fairies, the vampires, and the werewolves. Jabber is in the world I can only dream, and read of. I don't even know if it's real now. I don't know if I want to believe it now because Jabber is gone. I can't even read books because of it. I can't find anything to distract me. I just want to lay in bed without anyone bothering me. I want to cry myself to sleep without anyone asking me why. Fawn, is mourning more than anyone. Jabber confessed his love for her for all of Panem to see. I wonder what ma, and pa have to say about it, but it's really none of my business. I lay on my bed staring at the book laying on the floor. Part of me wants to pick it up, but the other part of me wants me to leave it laying on the floor. It's the book about the fairies, the vampires, and the werewolves. My heart races under my chest causing my chest to feel tight. I feel like I'm suffocating. My breathing picks up rapidly, and tears form in my eyes. I've cried so much over the past couple days that I don't feel like I can cry anymore, yet the tears constantly form in my eyes falling down my face like a raging river overfilled from rain. Why did Jabber have to go? He was capable of winning, but that girl killed him. They gained up on him and killed him. Why did it have to be him? Did he make everyone hate him? It doesn't matter though because he's gone forever. I slowly lean forward and pick the book up. My hands shake uncontrollably. My eyes scan around the room stopping at the door. The door blocks the room from the hall. It's shut currently blocking everyone from my site. It was tiring watching people walk back and forth constantly. I throw the book as hard as I can slamming it against the wall with a loud thud. The book falls down the wall opening landing on the page with the vampires mourning over a loss of their own. Adrenaline surges through my veins causing my mind to race. I grip the sides of my pants trying to calm myself down, but it doesn't do any good. I lay my face down on my pillow and start sobbing uncontrollably. "Jabber, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry about everything. I need you. You are my brother, and I need you." Boom! My heart leaps inside of me, and butterflies appear on my stomach. I jump out of my skin falling onto the floor. I look around trying to figure out what's going on, but trapped within this room I find nothing. Slowly, I roll over onto my stomach, and I use my bed to help me gain my footing. The room starts spinning around me, but I force that away. I walk unsteadily over to the door and open it up. I look down the hall still seeing nothing. "Surprise, I guess the cat dragged me in, huh?" A female voice laughs. I cock my head to the side trying to figure out where the voice is coming from. I slowly return inside my room when I see Mocking running from the kitchen with a knife in his hand. What is going on? "Mocking Jay Security, Identify yourself! Who the hell are you? and Why did you break in here?" Curiosity gets the best of me. I slowly walk out of the room down the hall. Thud! Thud! Thud! My heart echoes inside my head with each step I take. My stomach twists inside me wanting me to go back and lay down in my bed, but I want to see what's going on. It's been silent in the house all day up until now, and it sounds like someone was breaking in, and hearing Mocking say that only adds to my curiosity. My eyes scan the room in front of me where Stellar is sitting on the couch with a lot of papers stacked beside him. I can't help but sigh because I'm thankful Ma doesn't do this to me. I laugh slightly when Stellar tells Mocking he's stupid. First time I've laughed since Jabber died. “Who are you? And what did the front door ever do to you?” I walk farther into the room wondering who they are questioning. I turn in the direction Stellar, and Mocking are facing, and I spot a female standing outside the door, well, what was a door. The door is laying in front of her in pieces. My mouth drops to the floor. "T-the door is broke. What are we going to do now? I ask in shocked as I stare at this girl. I don't recognize this person, yet she's tried to break into the house. I can see why Mocking is holding a knife. I search through all my memories wondering if I know her, but nothing pops to the front of my mind. I just stand there with my mouth wide open gawking at her. "Who is she? Why is she here?" My eyes quickly scan the room around me wondering what just happened. It's all happening so fast. Narration 4C4361 Thoughts A091AE Hearing 80779B Speech A3A3D0 Other DECDD1

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ooc: Credit for this amazing header goes to Shrimp <3