[open] give me a sandwich of the triangle variety

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A heart attack is sleeping in your chest,
waiting 'til the timing is best;
So make a move while you're still breathing.

Lachlan thinks he's being quite a daredevil, sneaking into the forest with a bag of fruit to tempt animals with. He's never actually been on the other side of the fence before - not 'til today, that is. And with food he was meant to give away, even. So a daredevil. At least for him.

Right at the moment though, from the end of a swaying, creaking tree branch, Kieran also thinks that he probably should have thought it through a little more thoroughly. He eyes the pile of leaves below the branch - it looks too far away, and not big enough to stop him from being hurt, or maybe breaking his neck. Damn it.

He weighs his options.

He could call someone for help. Wait on a stronger branch until someone walks by, then throw maybe twigs at them. Yell, if he has to. Jump up and- no, that would be a very bad idea. But he could try to get their attention.

That is, of course, assuming someone does walk by, and if that person isn't a Peacekeeper. One reason he chose this place to re-enter the district is the lack of people - it's safer and better for him. After all, anyone could report him to the Peacekeepers, even people who may like him (hah!), or are casually acquainted with him.

On the other hand...

On the other hand, Lachlan could possibly try and lower himself with his hands, praying that both the branch won't break and he won't miss the thin pile of leaves on the ground. He's actually about to test his luck when he hears a thin snap from behind him.

He groans to himself. Just my luck.[/color] The stupid branch can't take his weight if he tries now.

He could, though.

The probability, he decides, weighs too heavily against him. He's screwed either way. Lachlan scoots back to the safety of another branch, and scowls at the guilty one. It sways innocuously in the light breeze.

"Well, what do I do now?" he grumbles to it. "If you hated me that much why did you let me climb on you in the first place, anyway?"[/color][/font]

When you were mine, was I for you,
Just one cheap thrill to help you make it;
Dammit I hope you didn't fake it.

[willow .]

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In my memory, all the small things like daggers in my mind.
In my memory, while my head bleeds the words I’ll never find,
That I always meant to say to you I can’t.

Not far from the property there is a small hole in the fence, a way leading out to the forest beyond, into the darkness of what lies beneath. They never see me crawl out, nor do I honestly think that they could care about my safety as I walk through the forest, completely unprotected from whatever danger is out there. Like anything could ever hurt the infamous Clara Hartmyre. I scowl to myself as I push aside the small leaves, making my way through the small hole, my twig-like body just hardly fitting through before I close over the opening once again with stray leaves from a nearby bush. No one ever finds me back here. Even if Esther is to wander around, even that dead girl won't spot my white dress as I slip through the forest, looking for more dead animals to add to my already-overflowing collection. A few feet away I soon spot a small bird, it's one wing folded over a red-crested chest as it eyes stay glazed open, it's gaze focused on the milky-blue sky above the both of us.

Raccoons arte definitely my most favorite animals, the way that they have the rings that curl ever so gently around beady eyes, but robins are a close second and as soon as I see this little one the ground my heart flutters in my chest, thumping with excitement as I hurriedly walk over and outstretch my hands as though to pick it up. I would never touch it with my bare hands, Florence had taught me much about never picking up dead things before properly sanitizing them. I Oh how I miss my dear older sister.. Florence was always one of my biggest role models, a woman who I aimed to be just like when I continued to grow older and develop into a woman of my own self. If only her name hadn't been picked, if only I hadn't had to have watched her die that fateful year ago. To this day my heart still throbs from the effort of thinking of her pale face and light eyes that were always so cold. Even so, I loved her for who she was, for everything that she was.

My thoughts are soon interrupted as I hear a pathetic wailing coming from possibly a couple of yards away, a dreadful moaning as if someone is in pain. The bird wills me to come closer, to stay by it's side but yet I hear the pitiful sound and it distracts me, it pulls at me as I walk away, looking for the source of where it may be coming from. I can't believe my eyes when I see the boy in the tree, sitting and looking terrified as next to him, a fallen branch has seemingly just landed on the ground. My first thought is to cut him up, then I remember that he is no animal, he is a human just like I am.

"What do you think you're doing up there?" I ask, looking up at the boy in the tree once more. He is considerably older than me though the glimmer in his eyes makes him look slightly childish, immature to be exact. And immediately I feel bad for wasting my time to find this pathetic creature, after all, I could be in the house pulling apart a bird right now and the last thing I want to do is help some stranger stuck out on a limb. So why do I stay?


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faceclaim - angela longton
words - 581
template - ella

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[atrb=background,http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo66/FallingIceAngel/lachlan1.png] Lachlan Fenrir Callaghan

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eighteen . male . district 6 . brendan ruck

Lachlan is beginning to have the bad feeling that he's going to be stuck up in that tree for all the Peacekeepers to see. 'Joy.' He'll probably end up in the detention center (he really hopes he doesn't). In all honesty he never thought his little detour into the forest would cause him this much trouble - not that he thought it through so completely, as proven. He should have done, this being the first time he's ever gone over the fence.

In hindsight this entire situation is probably all his fault.

Not that he'll admit it to anyone but himself.

(And he'll probably not admit it either, but there's fear with its hand clenched over his heart as the traitorous branch creaked one final time before, with a sharp snap, it breaks off from the mothertree and falls silently down. Silently, at least, until it hits the ground with a thump and another crack. The wood splinters, revealing its lighter insides like a cut in the arm or a shattering of a limb.

He guesses that the ground is much harder than he thought it might be.)

He leans against the tree trunk, head tipped back to the sky. "Okay, I give up. You win," he tells the cloudy sky overhead. It doesn't respond, unless going on its way so slowly is a response (he doubts it)."Now let me down."

Lachlan doesn't hear it but he's pretty sure the answer is a cheeky no.

He huffs in annoyance. Okay, it's his fault, but he has to get down somehow. And most importantly in the act of getting down from this damned tree is getting down safe.

'That's a plan. Now I just need to know how to actually get down.'

How the heck is he going to get down? That is the question. There's nothing for him to catch onto but a too-high, probably electrified fence. Unless he can somehow survive a neck-breaking fall, he's stuck. Well and truly stuck.

Lachlan wants to whack his head against the tree trunk. If it was anyone else this situation will be extremely hilarious. Too bad it's him and not actually anyone else.

"What do you think you're doing up there?"

The voice startles him, mostly because he did not realize he was being snuck up on. Lachlan scoots a little closer to the fence to see who speaks; the girl stares up at him with an expression like she's already regretting stopping to check on him. He would feel relieved if not for the girl's seemingly obvious disinclination to help him down.

Well, it's worth a try anyway.

"Having the time of my life," he deadpans. Sarcasm might not get him very far, but Lachlan can barely rein his tongue in. Resting his elbow on the branch, he adds, "I suppose the question should be, why aren't you up here?"

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I’m looking through the glass
she’s someone else’s angel
it may sound stupid that I'm wanting you back
but I'm wanting you back

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[willow .]

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In my memory, all the small things like daggers in my mind.
In my memory, while my head bleeds the words I’ll never find,
That I always meant to say to you I can’t.

“Why in Ripred’s name would I want to be up there?” I stare at him, my face contorting into something unrecognizable as I look up at his chiseled face, the dim sunlight just barely reflecting upon his light eyes. He is obviously scared, the branches falling all around him and his eyes darting side to side as though he is imagining himself falling to the ground with them. Foolish. “I can tell you how to get down though.” I say, turning my head to look back at the ground, much more concerned for that poor robin that I had left behind. To be realistic it was probably being devoured by a fox right now and what was it doing, I was helping some stupid common boy in a tree.

“Answer me this though,” I look at him with a mischievous smile. “If you got up so easy, how come you can’t get back down?”

I once got stuck in a tree, right outside of the house, back before the fire that ruined everything I had ever had. Mum ran out and promised to catch me in her long arms, her beautiful face and raven-like hair billowing in the wind as she smiled at me from the ground. ”I’ll catch you, my dear.” he words echoed in the wind as my identical hair swayed around my frientened face, my small teeth chattering and my white dress coming up around my legs as I desperately held onto the trunk of the tree, holding onto something that I felt would slip away in any moment.

This was before Florence died, before Esther was reincarnated as a part of a girl, before mum died, and dad became a ghost with hollows under his eyes that would never seem to go away. They all had such pretty faces, before they died at least. This thought makes me smile as I look up at the boy in the tree.

“Or you could just jump, that wouldn’t be so bad would it?” I’ve always been taught that death is a beautiful thing, an entrance into another world where you will live eternally. And a part inside of me burns in envy as I think of Florence, a ghost floating for eternity, forever in peace within herself. The jealousy I cannot contain, the more and more people I see that have died, that have passed unto the afterlife full of peace and prosperity.

Oh why can’t I join them in paradise.


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faceclaim - angela longton
words - 581
template - ella

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[atrb=background,http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo66/FallingIceAngel/textforlachlan.png] Why do I feel as though a Peacekeeper would be much more helpful right now? At some point he's going to get sick of being up in this tree, and when that happens he doubts even the punishment any Peacekeepers can inflict upon him will lessen his relief of being out of it. Lachlan kind of doesn't want to stick around for that to happen - who knows what the Peacekeepers might actually do to him while he's in detention? Something not worth sticking around to find out, probably. Lachlan inches a little closer to the edge of the branch. It creaks again ominously, cheekily, playing with my f*cking mind, he thinks. Though it'd serve mother dear right, comes the vindictive thought. (But for the life of him he can't remember any reason mother should be punished at all.) He shakes his head a little and focuses down on the girl. She must have said something because she's staring with incredulous eyes up at him, her face twisted with something he can't identify. Lachlan has this abrupt urge to stick his tongue out at her (but he's eighteen, god damn it, he's eighteen and should act as such). “I can tell you how to get down though. Answer me this though: if you got up so easy, how come you can’t get back down?” Lachlan scowls very un-eighteen-like at her. "Because I don't want to get back down on this side of the fence," he says, narrowly biting his tongue to prevent any expletives or insults like stupid from escaping. He supposes she's going to ask him how he got up in the first place, but that's a secret that will not quite ready to be divulged. He's not entirely sure if the girl heard him because the look on her face reminded Lachlan very strongly of someone so deep in memory that memory is their one reason for moving on. I know how that feels. Shaking his head, he starts to flatten himself along the branch in an attempt to spread his weight out a bit more evenly, then inches over to the end. The branch creaks and dips alarmingly. Lachlan stops, knuckles white on the branch, smoothing an even look of nonchalance on his face. Act normal, act normal, I'm sure it's fine. “Or you could just jump, that wouldn’t be so bad would it?” Lachlan stifles a sharp bark of laughter. He's thought about that enough to instill a momentary fear of heights in him. "It would be so bad," he mutters. Louder, he adds, "Worth a shot, I guess." I hope you're strong enough to drag my dead body back into town before the cannibal eats me, he doesn't say, but continues inching nearer to the end. Thank you to Kiah for helping me with this table

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