sckrp | cold cold man + ty&tig | Hunger Games: The RPG

sckrp | cold cold man + ty&tig Aug 14, 2015 0:58:59 GMT -5

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Aug 14, 2015 0:58:59 GMT -5

I STILL MISS THE PAIN

TYRANNUS HORUS REX

IT'S NEVER FELT THE SAME

Something about the rain today made me want to red my knuckles on someone's face. That's not odd for me, I'm often walking around with raw fists. Mother would cry from happiness if she saw them I bet, her rebellious little Ty actually doing something useful. It's a good thing I haven't seen her for a few weeks. Or much of anyone to be honest. I'm seeing a lot of everyone, just not anyone really, if you get what I mean. Tarquin would. Tarquin's not here though, he's in jail.

Where he has been for months and months. I'm pretty sure I'm never going to see him again actually. Which is too bad. I think I'm disappearing. My feet are nearly see-through I bet. I'm not sure, I haven't looked lately. I insist that they're going that way though. Thorn says that's probably just the drugs and alcohol talking but I can't really be certain about that. I'm pretty much one hundred percent sure that Tarquin not being around is killing me though.

It's not that I don't love my other siblings. They have their advantages despite the fact that half of them are really just what you'd expect a career to be: gym-enthusiasts that get high off of the scent of equipment disinfectant. None of them get me the way that Tarquin does, not one.

I doubt I'll ever see him again.

So I deal with that by having too many sloppy one night stands with beautiful people and getting so drunk that everything just turns into a lovely violet haze. Tarquin would tell me that I'm running away from my issues. I am doing that, I'm fully aware. That's the whole plan actually. If I don't face the fact that Tarquin is never coming home then I don't have to deal with it.

Maybe that's immature but honestly, I'm sixteen. immaturity is the lifeblood of a teenager such as myself.

Which is maybe the reason why I'm in a dirt-floored ring, waiting for my opponent to arrive so we can punch each other into the dirt. I'm barely drunk so this will hurt a little but that's a good thing, that's what I'm searching for. Something to make me actually feel something other than this retched feeling of loss in my chest.

So bring it on.

Tiger Rex enters the fucking ring.

"Ahh, whatttt, really?" I ask no one in particular, resting my hands on my hips in an annoyed fashion that reminds me too much of Tarquin. I drop them again. "What are you doing here Mr. Perfect," I ask my older brother, a teasing tone hiding the real confusion in my voice. Really, Mr. Angel-star-perfect-son in a place like this?

Oh well. I take his probable initial surprise as an advantage and go in swinging hard. It's probably the only advantage I'll have with him.Quin and I used to take him on together and we'd still usually come out even or as a loss.