A Red Letter Day [Pre-Experiment Free RP]

[nasrid]

OOC: For several days anyone that wants to can chill in this thread and RP with the other participants. Once I announce the beginning of Day One, this Thread will end.

Doctor Frederick Arocratus -- The Great Experiment

Perfection is an important virtue of the intellectual mind. If something is not perfect, then it is imperfect, and why be satisfied with imperfection? Imperfection is the stuff of failure, of mistakes and of error. Thus when one is planning one of the most important experiments in the history of important experiments, perfection Is not some silly flaw, but truly the most important thing that one can think of.

These were the thoughts that went through the powerful mind of the Good Doctor Arocratus on that fateful morning before the beginning of the Great Experiment. All his usual apparel was there; he was adjusting his spectacles like a manic obsessive, his beard had the evidence of being combed several hundred times, and there was not a crease in his suit. Surely he was prepared for what was to come, this titan of psychology. Looking once more in the mirror, a faint grin grew on his face, and he opened the door to the hallway, beyond his office that had been converted to his permanent abode.

As he stepped into the hallway, all froze like deer in headlights. The scientists, the workers, and the peacekeepers. For a second they stood, until his thundering voice tore through the silence like a volcano.

“Well? What’s the holdup? A second more and we could lose precision! Faster you fool, we need to make it all excellent!” He was on the edge, and could not afford anyone making a mess of his experiment. They all scuttled away like fearful crabs sighting a seagull, and he continued down the now empty hallway with the determination of a hungry cheetah. Turning the corner, more of the invertebrates that were scared of him ran away, and he was once again left alone.

All the better, he thought. For in this sort of environment I can work. At exactly 12 PM the trains with the participants will arrive. It is now 11:30 PM. I need to move quickly, and good heavens, My shoes have a stain on them. Ah, there’s a young worker fool. I’ll call him over.

“You there! Come over here! I need just a touch of shoeshine.” The shivering worker could barely contain his cries of fear, but nodded and came back quickly with the shoeshine, cleaning his shoes. He overdid it, beckoning a hit from the always oppressive Doctor Arocratus.

“That’s too much! You did well, though, boy. Here’s something for your troubles.” He gave the boy a bit of money, and then continued down the hall, finally opening the doors to the outside. There stood two peacekeepers at both sides, and a large platform with a microphone in the middle. It was rather like a district square in miniature form, and he hated it. Nevertheless, the good doctor allowed it to exist, in all his benign-ness and calm nature.

Just beyond the large clearing were the trains. And it was good that they had come, for another second and the Good doctor would have ordered the killing of every single incompetent bastard in the entire institution. There were sixteen of the Participants, dapper young lads and ladies ready to participate in the wondrous world of science.

For once in the day the Doctor was genuinely happy. He loved one thing more than anything, and that was energy and interest into science, and psychology in particular. He had never dreamed such a large amount of contestants had signed up for his experiment, and this made him quite energetic. It almost made him feel sad that there was a high likelihood at least one of them would die in the following days. Almost.

Yet he was no Capitolite, and he did not relish killing. Killing was an unfortunate by-product of the forward advance of science. Some would die, yes, but not in the horrible, brutal way in which the hunger games were conducted. A psychological scar here, a little bit of murder there, but nothing too dramatic. They were still human beings after all, and it was a win-win for him either way.

Not that there is such thing as a win-win in a psychological experiment. The human mind has an infinite amount of variables which it can bring to bear when under stress, and even the most powerful computer could not make a flowchart outlining the flowchart of the human mind. Even with hundreds of years of research into it, both in Panem and in the past, long before this nation was even suggested; the human mind has eluded the harnessing of its true abilities. Hopefully today could change that, or turn the tide in our favor.

The next few days would be most glorious, indeed, for the world of science. When he had dreamed of it all those years ago as he lay staring at the deformed cake his wife had destroyed as she left him, he could not have believed that the mad plan could have come to fruition. However, the celestial being works in mysterious ways, and his dreams have been realized. Now he can watch the various children and adults die for science.

Where did that thought come from? Another example of the mind’s great unpredictability. Even in times when one is ecstatic, doubt invades and attempts to silence euphoria. Not today! Today is the day when all of life and all the beasts of the land look up at the Doctor, who has managed to wield their brains into something more than simply biological or mystical.

These illusions of grandeur have come up time to time, but not quite like this. Today the Doctor is on top of the world, where yesterday he controlled but one institute in all of Panem. He is god, and all others are beneath him. Yes, this is true euphoria, the stimulation of the mind by a great pleasure inside of one. Why ask for such petty physical pleasures when you have something much, much greater? The entire human psyche is at the disposal of a single man, and he will be damned if the Capitol, or indeed anyone, tells him what to do. It is a chess game, and the doctor has plans within plans.

He breaks off from this daydream of beliefs and fairy tales, once again looking into the crowd. The participants have gotten off of their trains, and they are obviously waiting for him to do something. Straightening his tie for a final time, and clearing his throat, he begins the methodically memorized speech which he had prepared over a year before. Every emphasis, every piece of literature in it, all of it had been planned down to the letter. It was his time to shine.

“Welcome to the Great Experiment. Before I begin, I must comment on the great number of you and how warm it makes an old man feel in his heart to see so many interested in the sciences as a whole, let alone Psychology. I am Doctor Frederick Arocratus of the Panem Institute of Psychology, Sociology, and Brain Patterns.

Of course, you probably knew that. This is not exactly an unknown enterprise; the great turnout at the signups for this has made me add extra spots to the experiment. Truly, you all are wonderful, and I’m sure that your contributions to science will all be quite fruitful. Now, the first order of business is the cell assignments. Doubtless you’ve all been given a briefing of what the Great Experiment entails exactly, and its various dangers and shortfalls, as well as its methodology and most obviously, the layout of it.” After reading out the cell assignments, he continues.

“Now, you have several hours to converse among yourselves. Make these hours count, because when the speakers announce that it is time for the experiment to begin, you will be moved into the testing area. Please do not try to resist and flee; regardless of the way you have signed up for this, fleeing is pointless, and you will be pushed back into the Testing area. Once inside the testing area, you cannot leave, and you must go to your cells immediately. Ah yes, and all of your belongings except the clothes on your back are confiscated. You can have them back at the end of the experiment.

Now that we’ve got all of that cleared up, make the most of the time that you have. With that, I bid you all ado, and may you have an enjoyable time during these two weeks!” After ending the speech, he turns away from stage, opening the doors to the main hallway, and walking swiftly down the corridor.

“An enjoyable time indeed.” As he closes the door that goes into the observation deck, he can hardly suppress a chuckle.

[/size]

[Deleted]

Don't laugh at a youth for his affectations; he is only tying on one face after another to find a face of his own.
~Logan Pearsall Smith

I remembered being pushed down to the floor, my hands being pulled behind my back, and then being put into a van. I remember vaguely the train ride, the feeling of stepping out into District 6. Wanting to turn around and run for shelter in District 9. Here I am.

Did I volunteer for this? No, of course not. My sick twisted parents did this to me. They told me it would be a learning experience. I severely doubt that. I would never forgive them for that.

I was now sitting here, looking like the lost little fourteen year old I was. My eyes wandered around, Seeing all the small sights there were to be seen.

I am Bentley Keader, and now I am a guinea pig.

[L△LIA]

Golden waves
In all directions
I could lose my soul right here
Colored lights on the runway
Make a stranger feel unchained

Zane has always hated my recklessness more than he loved it — or any piece of me, perhaps. Despite the way I would be something undeniably less than myself without it, it is a flaw among flaws, an exceptional wrong within my very soul. Maybe if I had it within me to stop and think things through before I act then I wouldn't have gotten involved with that stranger back in District One, wouldn't have let him think he owned me, wouldn't have had to cut him away to prove that he didn't. Maybe I wouldn't have made a murderer of myself. Maybe Auggie would be alive and then I'd still have someone to fix my mistakes; my brother was always so good at that.

There's no fixing the situation I've gotten myself into this time. Zane told me to stop jumping District Eleven's fence, to stop wandering through the streets as if I could find something worth possessing in them. But I went anyway, again and again, throwing myself into the crowds and shadows, as though that might be enough to shield me. That's how I discovered new places and new people — and somehow I tricked myself into believing Jessa might be the most dangerous thing I could run into. I shouldn't have jumped that fence. I shouldn't have wandered those streets that weren't meant to be mine. I shouldn't have snuck into those buildings... or broken into that train.

I feel loose
I feel haggard
Don't know what I'm looking for
Something true, something lovely
That will make me feel alive

The door was wide open and the space inside was filled with supplies. We didn't need supplies, we were fine in our forest, living off the land and trading with the occasional wanderer we encountered, but I've always been greedy that way. It doesn't matter that I never needed those crates of food or a mirror encrusted with jewels, when I see something, I just want to take it. And so I climbed into that train car and began cracking those crates open, filling my rucksack with one luxury after another. I didn't notice the door closing any more than they noticed me. Then there was a jolt and we were moving — I was moving — and I realized once again just how wrong I can be.

When they found me, I did the only thing I could think of: I lied. When they asked who I was, I told them "Lydia Samuels of District Eleven." I've never been anything like well-educated, but I'm street smart enough to know how to survive. I got them to talk while letting them think it was the other way around, picking up enough information to figure out that this train was taking volunteers from the various Districts somewhere and making them believe that I was one of those volunteers. For a terrifying moment I thought I was on the kind of train I'd spent so many years of my life avoiding, on my way to the Capitol to fight to the death. I could practically hear my brother wailing from his untimely grave back in District One, howling out for the universe to take him instead. Again. However, their confusion over me soon helped me realize how that wasn't it at all, that the people in charge of the train weren't so sure I didn't belong there, so I convinced them I did.

I'm running after time and I miss the sunshine
Summer days will come happiness will be mine
I'm lost in my words
I don't know where I'm going
I do the best I can not to worry about things

I should have known it was too easy, that people willing to accept my presence without much opposition weren't people I should be convincing to let me stay. By the time we arrived at the train's destination and I found out what I'd really gotten myself into, there were no more opportunities for an escape. Trapped in a crowd of foolish children being addressed by some sort of doctor who didn't seem to have our health in mind at all, the very first words from his mouth were almost enough to make me scream out a confession in hopes of being sent to the Detention Center instead. "Welcome to the Great Experiment." Something sick began twisting in my stomach and I had to slap a hand over my mouth to hold the words back: My name is Ella Wren Dahl. I'm a wanted murderer from District One who has been taking refuge in the forest. I'm not Lydia Samuels. I'm not from District Eleven. I don't belong here; I belong in a jail cell, handcuffed and tongueless. Please, take me away.

However, he finishes his speech and I'm still standing there, twitching silently with an inner war of panic and that ever-present rage of mine. As I begin glancing around at the faces surrounding me, that inner turmoil festers and I end up snarling at the first unfortunate kid to lock eyes with me, lips tugged back in a sneer as I bare my teeth and glare in a way that clearly says: Stay the hell away from me, kid, or I'll claw your eyes out with my bare hands. Habit sends me turning on my heel, telling me to stomp away like I'm the mother of all earthquakes, but I've forgotten that there's nowhere to go from here, ending up face to face with someone else and entirely too close for comfort. Raising an eyebrow with a look that's more vicious than questioning, I cock my head and exhale with a huff that's disgruntled enough to flare my nostrils. "I'd have slit your throat for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it seems they've confiscated my knives. Lucky you."

Like a vagabond
Through the distance
Looking for a song to sing
A song that lasts all night
And for the rest of our lives

[Eastern Orange]

I imagine this is what Denver felt like when he first stepped off his train into a sea of unfamiliar. Though, the one difference between my experience and his is that I’m not going to have to kill or be killed. At least I don’t think. I glance around at my new surroundings, surprised at how ordinary, how common, they appeared to be. I was in an entirely new place, but it didn’t feel that way and is certainly didn’t look that way. I must say, I was disappointed. I had expected the world outside of District 11 to be more… I don’t know, different.

I quietly stand amongst the gathered kids, watching them intently. I look at each one, trying to guess who was from which District by their looks, and how they hold themselves. It was a fun way to entertain myself, as I had no desire to make friends with anyone. I was here for one purpose and one purpose only: to find out what was wrong with me. It’s a gamble, I know, but I figured that this was a psychological study, and I had a psychological problem, so maybe the scientists would inadvertently find out what was wrong with me. The fact that I hated my life, and wanted nothing more than to escape the emptiness I felt living in a house that no longer held Denver, may have also had something to do with my decision to come here. Who’s to say?

I look up as the Doctor comes out and gives his speech. When he speaks of confiscated everything but our clothes, my hand immediately clasp the ring I wear around my neck. My eyes involuntarily water, but I don’t let the tears fall, or panic bubbling in the back of my throat, consume me. To part with the one connection I had with Denver would kill me. I had at least thought I’d be able to take a piece of him with me into the unknown. I’d have to do it completely alone. I take a deep breath, trying to quell my emotions. It’s fine, I tell myself stubbornly, this is an opportunity to figure out how to move on. The thought nearly brings me to tears again; I didn’t want to move on from Denver. But I must if I ever plan to live normally again.

The loss of Denver isn’t the only thing I hope to come to terms with. The murky remembrances from the past would also be nice to overcome, not to mention my time spent in the Detention Center.

When the Doctor is done speaking, I return to my game of trying to pick out the different districts. I meet the eyes of a girl, and her look turns feral. I take a step back, fear surging through me. Her threat sends a shudder down my spine. What did I do wrong to her? What’s wrong with me that everyone I meet seems to hate me? I think of the kids back at the group home. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling -

I relax my muscles, and shoot the girl a lazy look of contempt. “That is too bad.” I say haughtily. “At least with your knives, you might have been some sort of threat to me.” I look down at my hands, and clench them into fists. “I would beat the shit out of you, right the fuck now, but I have more class than that. Lucky you.” I sneer, and look her directly in the eyes, confident. Trogon can’t be picked on while she was here. This was an escape from the shit she got back at home. If she were to be abused here… I can’t let the happen. So I must make them all fearful of her, or get them to leave her the fuck alone. They need to know that Trogon is not easy prey.

[/justify][/blockquote]

[L△LIA]

( E L L A W R E N D A H L )

Walking to the other side
With the devil
Trying to take my mind
And my soul's just a silhouette
On the ashes of a cigarette

Despite my empty hands, a flash of silver cuts through my mind as the light glints off the front teeth of the girl in front of me when she bites her lip in response to my aggressive anti-introduction. Maybe it's the memory of the thin and ironically graceless blade from District One or maybe it's more like the brutal hunting knife I held to Kade's throat when we met and threats seemed more sane than hello. Either way, these aren't thoughts I'm eager to entertain when my skin is prickling with inevitability. Everything around me is too shiny; not just her teeth, but the carefully tended surfaces of metal and concrete stretching out around us that are the opposite of where I belong. A girl like me thrives in filthy and forgotten territories, not a place built for watching that reeks of over-sanitation and expectation. I can't think straight when I'm this far out of my element and so it takes a few moments in the wake of my words for me to realize what I'm even saying.

They echo in my head: I'd have slit your throat for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it seems they've confiscated my knives. Lucky you. Lucky you. Lucky you. There is a dull bitterness that hangs in the air, the kind of offhand sound that hints at my insincerity in a way that makes me hate myself for not meaning my words completely if I'm going to put forth the effort to spit them out at all. Idiot. These kinds of threats are my recklessness rearing up to snap at the empty sky once more, always searching for something to tear apart and rarely finding a target other than myself. This girl doesn't need to know anything that honest about you. Shut your mouth or you might as well slit your own throat.

Illusions never fake their lies
Trick cards fool the eye
Carry zeros over till they add up
Bury tears
In the chapters you shut

I'm about to just shove my way past her and go on a search for an exit I know doesn't exist for me in this place, but her fragility suddenly falls away with a kind of practiced ease I've spent a lifetime growing all too familiar with. "That is too bad.” Her voice defies my preconceptions and seems to swing itself around with a haphazard confidence they don't teach in school. "At least with your knives, you might have been some sort of threat to me.” Fingers curling into twin fists, a mirror of her own, I suck in the kind of breath you take before jumping into water that will swell up and over your head as soon as you break the surface. It's automatic preparation. "I would beat the shit out of you, right the fuck now, but I have more class than that." Only, she's matching me breath for breath and I know if I take a swing at her then she'll swing right back: A fist for a fist. There's something like equality in that and my hard-knock street gutter upbringing takes a pause in recognition. Fair enough. "Lucky you."

On another day I would have found it difficult to restrain myself, pride burning wild with the desire to destroy everything my knuckles could crash their weight into, but today I just want something I can identify with. There's nothing to be found in the surrounding walls and I know it, so maybe some



I forgot that I have to wake up at 5:30 AM for work. At least that means I'll be home early to finish writing this. XD

WIP WIP WIP

She's not going to do much, just say something snide but not quite disrespectful and give Trigger Trogon a smirk, because lololololollllll Ella doesn't smile unless you are Kade because the laws of logic don't apply to Kella so that's as good as it gets. And I think it's good-ish here. You're practically bffs if she's walking away without a fistfight idk she's being weird still. Gotta find a way to get Eli involved too, hey heyyyyy. Maybe just be all: "HEY. WUTCHU THINK YOU'RE LOOKIN AT, BOYYY. IF ONE OF US DOESN'T CUT YOU THE OTHER PROBABLY WILL."

I've been digging the ground through the dust and the clouds
I see miles and miles and the junkyard piles
I wanted hope from a grave
I wanted strength from a slave
What gives you comfort now might be the end of you then

Crows are pulling at my clothes
The wind got my fingers froze
Standing all day
Keeping watch
Over all the treasures we lost

Sometimes the jail can't chain the cell
And the rain's too plain to tell
All alone by a barren well
The scarecrow
Is only scaring himself

[semper]

bear Keeni



No one’s ever here anymore; Lane’s gone, Gerya’s gone, Shiep’s gone, Ethan’s dead gone, my whore parents are gone, Malachai’s gone, Izzy’s gone, Vicky’s gone – everyone! I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that people are trying to avoid me. Why? I’m mean, yeah, I can have a few anger issues and throw a bit of smack talk around whenever I feel the faintest urge to, but that doesn’t mean that people should avoid me. Eh, the bitches. They just don’t know what they’re missing out on.

And so what do I have to do? Nothing better than to sign up for this damn psychology experiment. Hey, maybe it’ll teach me how to scare the hell out of people. Then I can have too much fun freaking people out and stabbing them and doing all sorts of crazy shit.

Because the experiment is taking place in my District, they didn’t let me take a train or anything, so I was stuck with walking. It took forever to get here; I passed quite a few creepers along the way. One lady gave me a twitchy glare and this other guy tried to mug me – apparently he thought I had money, pfft – so I slugged him across the face with my fist and yelled quite a few colorful adjectives. I left him rolling in the deep dirt, clutching his nose. His mumbled attempts at threatening me still ring through my head and bring a weird smirk to my face as I’m standing in the midst of other kiddies, my hands clasped behind my head and elbows sticking out to the sides. Some guy is standing up on a platform and lecturing. I didn’t come here to be lectured by some guy who looks like a Santa Clause wannabe. My attention drifts to the people that are around me. They all appear to be around my age, but they’re all short. Pft, short wimps. There’s two girls close to me: one blonde and one brunette – or is her hair black? Does it even really matter? No.

I sigh audibly and irritably, letting my hands drop back down to my sides. Santa Claus is still talking, but hell if I’m listening. I see his mouth moving, but all I hear is “blah blah blah blah.” He reads off some “cell assignments,” and I hear that I’m rooming with some guy named Hurlee. Hurlee? What kind of a name is that? It sounds like he’s either “her Lee” or “hurling.” I, personally, like the latter one. Makes me think that Hurlee is hurling chunks across the room.

At the end of his tirade, Santa Claus tells us all that we have a few hours to mingle, which irritates me. I hate pointless small talk and getting to know people that I know I’m going to hate within a few minutes. I grumble to myself and shift my weight from one foot to the other, my eyes already searching for a way to get the hell out of here. But that’s when I start hearing threats being tossed around: I’d have slit your throat for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it seems they’ve confiscated my knives. Lucky you. I turn my head to see Brunette going after Blondie, but I don’t care about them. They took her knives too? Damn. I quirk an eyebrow as their hissy fit goes on with Blondie shooting back hotly, saying how she’d beat the shit out of her. Oooh, cat fight. An amused smirk draws across my face as I turn to them, watching their argument. Hey, maybe this won’t be such a shitty and boring experiment after all.

[/size][/blockquote][/color]

[cass]

//aloe vera.

Talking
Doing
Deep Thought
Hearing

Aloe scowls; being part of the Peacekeepers Special Force did not make her someone who could go around and be a scientist. She knew nothing of that crap. She didn’t even know how to hold a scalpel, or what on earth was a freaking experiment. She pushes her way through the crowd of pathetic district people, the foul smells of unclean bodies reached her nose, and she lashed out at a girl in disgust. These people were disgusting. She snorts as the girl stumbles back slightly in surprise; they knew nothing and were as clumsy as a drunken meerkat. She continues her way through the crowd until she was at the front. She was important, she was not going to stay in that throng of smelly, ugly people when she could sit at the front. Watching, stalking them all. She wasn’t yet sure who she would have to experiment on, or what she would have to do, but she hoped that she could cut open some pathetic district person.

It would be very enjoyable on her part to jab and stab at when of those mutts, cut them up and look at them, see what was on the inside, all while they were awake. Aloe felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips, she watched two girls go at each other, and she could just imagine them squealing and crying for mercy under her grip, there would be no more hot headed arguments once she was done with them. She scans the rooms and has to admit she was impressed with the places structure, it was cosier then she expected. She was at least happy to admit that this place was better than staring at all those Capitol idiots, with their whiskers and hair that seemed to be every colour of the fucking rainbow. She sat down on the chair opposite to where the big important guy had been standing. She couldn’t remember who the hell he was. She couldn’t even remember what he had been talking about. It must not have been that important.

As the two girls continue there squabble, Aloe takes a look at all the other faces, she couldn’t tell who was who and if she tried hard enough, she might be able to tell who was a girl and boy, but they were all just so filthy, it made her curl her lip in distaste. Although they all looked the same Aloe could see a difference in some of them, she assumed the ones that were fat were from the Career districts and the scrawny skinny ones where from the rest. She eyes the room, checking and watching the other Peacekeepers and experimenters, she was sure none of them wanted to be in the same room as all these low life’s, but they really had no choice. Aloe gets up from there chair, she was full of energy and sitting down didn’t stop the little bit of excitement that she had, she really wanted to cut some people up. As she thought more about it the idea of looking at someone’s insides while they were awake just became more exciting.

Aloe stands and stretches her powerful muscles, she looks at the squabbling girls, who she was sure were about to start a fist fight. It was time to show them all who was the boss around here.

[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

Marine-gray eyes calmly look over the group of people in the clearing, taking in the faces and personalities he would be working with during this experiment. Or working on, depending on the circumstances. He watches as two girls have a small dispute, and contemplated stepping in. By the time he was about to move, he realized the small argument had passed. Well, if it's already like this, then there may be more casualties than we planned for. Despite his worry, Craig didn't doubt the Doctor. You couldn't, perfection was practically his life. Nothing would go askew, or so he hoped. At least I'm not part of this experiment. Knowing what they were going to be doing to these people, even at the benefit of society, was not something Craig completely agreed with. However, he had been selected by the Doctor, or someone trusted by the Doctor, to help perform this experiment. It seemed being able to make soap was very helpful, as well as the small amount of knowledge he had in relation to the maintenance of a few different things. It seemed that his people-skills, which he didn't personally acknowledge but were there, helped too. A leader-like person with at least decent social ability apparently made for a good scientist.

But to Craig, he didn't fully understand why it had been him. There were plenty of other people better suited to this than he was, and yet it had been him they had chosen. And now he walked into the clearing, maneuvering through the subje- volunteers in a white lab-coat. He turned his head, watching for any notable aspects of the participants. The little altercation from before stored in his mind, along with the faces of the two girls. I'll have to watch out for them, they could make this more interesting, or more difficult. Hopefully it will be the former. He continued to look around, until he spotted a fellow scientist, or fellow recruited scientist. There was a difference, one wanted to be here, the other might or might not. He, himself, though, didn't know whether he liked this yet. He hadn't been here long enough to make a decision.

Making his way over to his peer, he stayed relatively quiet and observational. As he reached her he spoke, trying to keep any inflection of feeling besides calm and stability out of his voice. It may not look like it, but Craig was a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. He wondered if he was convincingly calm, or if he was making it worse, trying too hard. Oh what did it matter, the experiment hadn't started yet. He had time to relax before any real work had to be done. "Hello. Are you a scientist helping with the experiment?" He knew the answer, but he just wanted to start a conversation. However much he kept to himself at home, it would be good to at least know someone here.

Tags: Tom | Words: 489

Template by Bryya

[Deleted]

Don't laugh at a youth for his affectations; he is only tying on one face after another to find a face of his own.
~Logan Pearsall Smith

I walked up to the boy watching the cat fight. "This should be interesting." I say with a smirk on my face. The girls were still beating the crap out of each other. I was already sick of this place, but I guess that didn't matter. My hatred for my parents boiled up even more. I kicked at the ground, but you know that kind of hurt.

[Tom]

Lindy Currier

[img src="

i952.photobucket.com/albums/ae2/waterfalling/Faces/47c076ff.png

"]

District six, It wasn't like home, but it was what she wanted to do. She wanted to be a scientist and study the brain and mind. This would be the start of her dream and possibly the end of her dreams and life. She stared up at the Doctor as he spoke cell assignments. She wondered who her roommate was, she couldn't hear the noises were too loud. She turned slightly to see some girls arguing, they would most likely start a fight. Lindy made a note to herself, not to talk to them. Lindy remembered how her brothers used to fight, then the image of her brother's deaths came back in a flash. She looked at the ground, she was sad, why did her brothers have to die. She sighed.

Lindy looked at everyone around, there was a peacekeeper and maybe another one, two other people that are going to be tested. She had no clue who to talk to. She got shy and nervous again. She sat down in the corner, lost in thoughts about her dead brothers. She silently looked up a few times, she wanted to talk to someone, but the fear of something going wrong, kept going through her head. There was too many what ifs. She stood up and took a breathe. She might as well start with a scientist or Peacekeeper or someone like that. She slowly made her walk towards a guy, who looked like a peacekeeper or a scientist, she had no clue. She wanted to know someone who would be observing her everyday. She finally made it to Craig, the Peacekeeper or scientist. She began to speak, but her lips wouldn't let her. She frowned. She was just too scared.

She slowly walked backwards making it to her spot where she sat at. She sighed again in failure. The memories of her brother hitting her again and again. Was she going mentally insane, Possibly, but most likely no, it just haunted her. She was already going through depression. She stared at Craig, He looked stronger than most people, so most likely he was a peacekeeper. She noticed his Marine-gray eyes, but she faced his back so she only saw the corner of his eye. she wished she could just talk to someone. She silently sat there alone like always, never being able to fit into any crowd. The story of her sad little life. She sighed again wanting, just one friend. She got up again and took a deep breathe. She walked torwards Craig.

She stood behind Craig. She looked at how tall he was, much more taller than her. She spoke in a timid tone,

[/size] "H-H-Hi, I am Lindy Currier..."[/size] She stopped talking her shyness got to the better of her. She looked at the man and waited to see if he was actually going to talk to her, or if he was going to ignore her, like everyone else. She silently sighed. [/size] [/center]

[Kheft]

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

The black trains crawled into the stations like hard-shelled insects, vomiting out their loads of passengers to spill in tangled confusion around the enormous chamber. It was a spectrum of emotions playing across their young faces…so young.

Marcellus Kane stood unnoticed against the far wall of the chamber, his leonine frame held unnaturally motionless; the sort of stillness learned only in lengthy captivity. Such was the mocking irony of life, he was now cast the hunter in this Capitol game, after so many years spent playing the hunted.

As Doctor Arocratus gathered the attention of those now swarming the stone room, his voice projecting into the sudden stillness, Marcellus found his gaze wandering over each upturned face.

“Welcome to the Great Experiment. Before I begin, I must comment on the great number of you..."

It was true, there were even more subjects than they had anticipated. The Districts were desperate for the promised rewards of food and money, enough so that they sent their children to the slaughtering block. Although the equanimity he could see in one or two marked them as volunteers. Marcellus made a mental note of that fact, they were either naive and would never last through a fraction of what awaited them, or they were fools...or insane already. Any of those possibilities could greatly color the results and must be accounted for if this experiment was to be a success; and as much as he loathed what they would be doing, he was invested up to his eyeballs in the venture.

“...you have several hours to converse among yourselves. Make these hours count..."

With those words, it was as if the Doctor had released them all from a spell, and they turned like sheep to mingle while the wolves watched. Marcellus' keen eyes followed each interaction with a precise intensity, reading from them the instinctual responses that shone light on so precisely on everything they might wish to keep hidden, everything that could be so skillfully used against them. This was, after all, what he had been brought here to do. He was just as much a prisoner within these sterilized halls, regardless of the role he played.

"I'd have slit your throat for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it seems they've confiscated my knives. Lucky you."

“I would beat the shit out of you, right the fuck now, but I have more class than that. Lucky you.”

Two girls faced off several yards from where Marcellus stood, they tested each other, seeing just how far they could push. The shorter of the pair was not a face that Marcellus was familiar with from reviewing their profiles, curious, he typically had a photographic memory for such details. She exuded a cockiness that all but screamed of fear and confusion...it bothered him that her face continued to escape his recollection. Who was she? The second girl was not a born scrapper, she didn't look like she would relish a fight...but she also wasn't about to so easily concede the top rung and solidify her place as an easy victim. Interesting.

Around the area, others were casting glances in the direction of the two, seeming to observe them just as Marcellus was, sizing up their soon-to-be companions. He could see their brains churning, processing, most busy deciding just what sort of facade they would present when it all commenced.

What everyone else had simply not realized yet was this:

The experiment had already begun.



And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world

[Tom Hiddelston...jk it's kale.]

Ryan-
He heard the weird man talk and looked around at the people here around him or what he thought was people hoping they were not some fake stunt designed to scare him. He looked around not knowing what he had gotten himself into. He wanted to get out of here. For some reason it seemed like this was a start to the games. He had heard stories from people about how they put everyone together to talk and mingle and then they were sent to the arena to fight. He slapped himself on the head. He was not gonna think like that anymore. He had volunteered knowing full well this would hopefully get his mind off of his dead friend from five games ago.

He looked toward the others and spoke softly hoping that no one could hear him. "So why did you people volunteer to come here. Or were you forced. Also where are you from?" He was afraid that could spark some problems but he was partially afraid in this could cause some sort of back lash on him. He didn't know the rules or the procedure. He never payed attention to any rules. Then again he didn't really hear any rules be given in the first place.

He just stared now.

He had this eerie feeling that something was there. Something or someone wanted him dead. He was in this place now and it was going to kill him. He walked to a corner of the room and sat down. He curled up and rapped his hands around his knees shaking. He may be looking like a loon now but he was trying to get the thoughts out of his mind. The thoughts of his dead friend. Then there was his other friend who has been missing since the same amount of time. He just now thought about it but could he be dead. Or worse captured by some peacekeepers and imprisoned somewhere for this amount of time.

[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

His gaze shifted to the other people in the room, having not gotten any response from the girl he had tried to speak to. Perhaps she hadn't heard, or perhaps she was ignoring him. Either way, it was no matter, there were plenty of others around. He was about to move to another section of the room when he heard the scuff of shoes behind him. There were plenty of people in the room, it was no surprise there was someone outside of his vision, but within ear-shot. Craig turned half-way in order to attempt to avoid the largest group of people when he heard someone speak. "H-H-Hi, I am Lindy Currier..." He spun the rest of the way to face the person, timid whoever they were, and found himself looking at a girl. She was maybe a year younger than him, with brown hair and blue eyes that watched him carefully. She was probably half-a-foot shorter than him, causing her to have to crane her neck slightly. It was obvious she was uncomfortable in this place, something he didn't blame her for, and that she wasn't the most social person. Somehow, he didn't think it was because she wanted to be.

He smiled at her, or tried to smile, nervous as he was. As one of the scientists assigned to this experiment, the lives of the volunteers and the result of the experiment were his responsibility, as he was told many many times over. It occurred to him now, as he looked at this girl, that they had never told him that their well-being was his responsibility, just their lives. It was true, what he knew of the experiment did put them through multiple hardships, but shouldn't they care more about them. Then again, in private they were always referred to as subjects. Hopefully his thoughts weren't showing in his eyes, because he would rather not put fear into anyone. It was bad enough not knowing, but not knowing and fearing something horrible. No, he would hate to do that to someone.

Trying to catch her eye with his gaze, without giving away his thoughts or appearing odd, Craig tried to remember what cell this girl was assigned to. He remembered a Lindy Currier being in either Cell A or Cell B, either of which wasn't horrible, but it wasn't the best. As he looked at this girl, Craig wondered how well she would handle being deprived of one of the top two essentials of life. But no, don't think of that now. It was the point of the experiment to find that out, and it was the point of his presence here to help keep the volunteers calm before the experiment started. It would be best if he started doing what he was supposed to.

Returning his attention to the girl in front of him, he swept away all thought of the upcoming experiment, instead trying to treat this as if he was just meeting someone in the market area of District Nine. "Hello, I'm Craig Wiely. Nice to meet you Lindy." Lame, lame, lame. He had just said one of the most common, most overused, most lame statements. Hopefully she wouldn't notice it too much. He supposed it was his nervousness showing itself in the most annoying way possible. Maybe if he said something else he could make up for it, "How are you finding the Institute?" Oh here we go, now he was a news reporter. His nerves must be worse than he thought, hopefully he would be fine for the experiment. One wrong move and he would be fired. If I can just relax, then it should be fine. Right? And maybe his conversation skills will improve, instead of being an embarrassment. No more lame statements, please.

Tags: Tom | Words: 629

Template by Bryya

[Tom]

Lindy Currier

Lindy looked at Craig, he had used such an ordinary greeting, maybe he was just as nervous and scared as she was. She couldn't stop looking at him. Her nervousness was getting to the best of her. She was scared stiff. She knew that Craig would be one of the people that would be studying her. She had never been studied on. She was in his hands now and maybe his hands were cold or warm. She had no clue what would be in store for her. She had already put her life in his hands. He was a handsome man though, he talked very politely to her, maybe she could trust him for this experiment. She was like a piece in Craig and the doctor's chess game. Lindy sighed for a second.

She continued to look at Craig, He had quite a bit of muscle, but not too much. He has Blue eyes and Brown hair. He posture showed her that he was just as nervous as she was. She then remembered her older brother, Craig looked a little bit like him. Then the flashbacks happened. She was standing in front of her brothers dead corpse crying. She yelled for help, but no one came. She ran home and told her parents. her parents didn't seem to care. Thats when life took a turn in events. She was bullied for her looks, her physical appearance, How she killed her older brothers girlfriend. The way her brother's eyes looked on her was a cold and dark look. A look that she would never forget. She went back to reality, she began to tear up. She tried to wipe them away, but nothing worked. She couldn't stop. She looked at Craig who looked like her older brother. She simply hugged him for no reason. She let go knowing what she had done. She was embarrassed. She blushed a deep red. She was about to speak, but her nervousness got the best of her. At least she stopped crying now.

She took a deep breath. She was ready to speak now. She spoke,

[/size] The institute is good... I am sorry about that thing I did before... its just you look like... someone I miss. Lindy's shyness was taking over. Everyone else was very talkative and she was not very talkative at all. Why was she cursed with such a terrible life. She couldn't even smile. She looked at Craig hoping he would understand. She wished that she could be loved by someone, just someone. She frowned abit. She was a fail of a child. She had killed her brother's girlfriend which caused her brother to die. She wanted life to be back to the way it was at first. her mother didn't care about her and her father absolutely hated her. She has thought about suicide, but the only thing that kept her from it was that her little brother would have never wanted her to die also, she was the only one that could live out there name. She was the only Currier child left in the world. She was the last one that could pass on the genes. She didn't want to be the reason why the Curriers disappear. She wanted to be the one that the Curriers would be proud of. She finally came back to reality. She hoped that Craig wouldn't be upset about her hugging him. She knew that this experiment was going to be a very long two weeks of being tested on, well she better make the most of it. [/center]

[Stare]

How can you see into my eyes
like open doors?
<><><><><><><><><><><>

Every moment's a privalege, every breath one worth taking, every word beautifully irreversable. They snicker and sneer and that's okay, that's alright, they're all still wonderful people, but more and more often lately I've been wondering why? Will once told me that I was different than everyone else- that I was special, and that's why I can see the lights and no one else can. He said that maybe there's something different inside of me, perhaps my brain is wired differently than everyone else's. It didn't matter to him, not like it matters to all the other people in District Eight. He was always so quiet and gentle, content with simply watching me wander through my fantasies, walking through a dreamland where everything was beautiful but no one else could join me. Others were not so easily satisfied. They started asking the why questions and only confused me to the point where I just walked away, laughing with the lights about their silly questions and how of course there's no reason I'm like this, I just am. But lately, their glittering silence has been less than satiating, and I have begun to ask myself the very questions we once ridiculed. Will said I should be proud of who I am. He told me I don't need the answers like they do. But now, for the first time in my life, I'm beginning to question my old friend.

That is why I signed my name on the form with that permanent pencil, the thing that spills ugly black onto innocent white. I don't like black- none of the lights are black. Only in my dreams do I see onyx orbs spinning, twisting and writhing like ghosts of the dancing creatures that surround me during daylight. Those things bring me no pleasure, and that is why I find their hue so undesirable during my hours of wakefulness. There was something about that paper, though, so crisp and neat and clean, that made me more willing to press the pen down. Something almost sinister, like the Keepers. It was too flawless to be real and sincere. And yet I signed it anyway, with ink so permanent that there is still a faint trace of it on my fingers from when I was tapping the pen against them in consideration.

Now, surrounded by strangers, I can't help but feel like I'm back on the streets of the textile district, alive and buzzing with activity. There was a day not long before I left when some of the citizens of D8 found out, and they started laughing. I laughed, too- it really was quite funny. And then they said that the facility really would want someone like me- crazy, just for a little variation. At that, I positively beamed, for it was the first compliment I had gotten in months. People haven't been talking to me a lot lately, and though the lights are good company most of the time, I can't help but long for Will every once in a while. I wonder if he's made any friends in the Capitol. Of course, he must have some- surely he must have gotten to know a few of the other tributes that he went into the Arena with. People don't talk about Will, or any of the District Eight tributes, very often. Maybe they miss them. It does seem a bit mean of the Capitol to make them live there after they "die" in the Games. Still, that's no reason to act as if they're gone forever.

But this is no time to be thinking about Will. I should be trying to make new friends. I look at some of the others in the room and offer one my biggest, brightest smile, but then a light zooms past their head and I get distracted, chasing after it and pushing through the crowd and calling for it to come back. A few people give me the look that I often get on the street and I return it with a beam- I already feel like home. This place is great. When it finally pauses in a space in the crowd, I don't try to catch it. I know from experience that my hand will only pass through it as if it is made of air. Instead, I wait patiently and allow other lights to swoop out, multicolored orbs that prance around me and burst into fireworks occasionally. Pleased, I spin around and laugh, my white sundress brushing against my knees. My golden brown locks whip outward and I get lost in the sensation of twirling, falling abruptly and giggling dizzily as I wait for the world to stop spinning.

Upon standing, I tilt to the side slightly and throw my arms outward to balance myself out. Will would have caught me. But Will isn't here- it's just me and the lights, and that's perfectly okay with me. I'm fine with having a whole world to myself, as long as I have them. Still, mingling would be a good idea. I have loads of friends back at home- they laugh at with me whenever I chase the lights or knock into things or fall. Having some here can't hurt. I take a step forward but still my steps are unsteady and I stumble sideways, right into someone else. "Oh! I'm so sorry- I didn't see you there."

((OOC: Amazing graphic above made by the fantastically wonderful shrimp<<33))

[/justify]