the lines we toe: starcrossed lovers {birch v. blackmore}

[Dreams]

S U M M E R B L A C K M O R E

district 2 | female | fifteen
_____________________________

The head of Birch boy's arrow has imperfections. I like imperfections, and maybe it's because I don't know any better. Maybe it's because the only thing I've ever known is flaws. The flaws in me, the flaws in others, the flaws in this family, the flaws in this house. No, nothing is ever flawless, no matter how much we want to believe it. We will always be drowning in a sea of imperfections. And then there's the few of us who will swim.

I flinch as a hand rests on my shoulder. Only then do I realize how tense I was. "That's enough," Aragorn whispers, and the low hum of his voice tickles my ears. I nod and walk away, and I'm so glad he has rescued me. I have fun fresh out of letters and words and sentences. And even if I had any left, I wouldn't trust myself to speak. “Who the hell do you think you are, boy? Did your parents not teach you any manners? You are in my house, as my guest, and you wield a weapon. I suggest you put it down right now unless you want to lose those precious fingers of yours. I expected better f the Birch's. After all you are meant to be one of the more sophisticated families... But I guess thats not that case, right, boy...? Put. It. Down. Now.” I am startled as Aragorn's tone changes so violently, scolding the boy that seemed so willing to drive an arrow through a family member's head. I am left to remember that I am one of the few who Aragorn does not shout at on a regular basis. He's nice to me. I would even go as far as to say that he loves me. And I'm so happy, because for fifteen long years I thought I was alone in this murderous and sadistic family.

I find myself sitting on the chair and looking outside the window, ignoring the faint reflection of me and staring outside. I've given up. I have concluded that fire and water get along better than the Birches and Blackmores ever will. I tune in and out, listening in on conversations that are more like arguments. "Why don't we toss all of our weapons outside. It would benefit us all. You know, to avoid death and/or severe bleeding." Yes, why don't we? I glance to see a boy that cannot be older than me, the ghost of nervousness on his face with a thin veil of confidence. I want to tell him that people in here would still find ways to hurt each other. We have knives in the kitchen. And it would be simple enough to strangle someone. And we don't trust each other enough to know that we have put all our weapons outside.

I sit there, occasionally smoothing out the ruffles in my skirt. I don't know where to go, or what to do. I watch the moon in the sky, hanging alone in the dark abyss. The stars are covered by the overcast of clouds, but the moon still shines. It still stands. And I find myself wondering what it would be like to shine brighter than everyone else. To not have anyone pick on you. And I guess I am envious of the moon, except for the loneliness it must feel. Yes, loneliness is an odd feeling. It stays with you, holding your hand. And when you feel ready, so, so ready to let go, it dares you to leave. It dares you to live life without it. And you find yourself sucked into the cycle all over again.

I count every tick of the clock. I count every tock of the clock. 1, 2, 3, 4. I count the large intervals of the face, the 12, the 3, the 6, the 9. I count the small intervals, the 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, and 11. I count the intervals between the intervals between the intervals until it's so microscopic I can't tell how many there are. I count the trees and their 1, 2, 3 ,4, 5, too many arms that sway in the wind. I count the cracks in the window sill and the panes. I count the seconds and the minutes that pass by. I'm not exactly why. Maybe because loneliness is holding my hand beside me, grinning because I've fallen into it's trap.

A slam that makes me jump startles me from my own wandering mind.

"You all should be a shamed of yourselves. Every last one of you. We're here for a fucking dinner party not a knock out brawl. People died. Ares, Hannah, Beatrice, Cassius they died fighting, and here you all standing with your hands prepped for slaughter. You all are a bunch of fucking pigs. You all sicken me." I blink at the boy who says this, studying the rage in his features. I had almost not noticed him as I walked over here. Maybe it was because I was too caught up in the past. Or maybe I'm not as observant as previously thought. I return my attention back to the window.

"Such unfortunate language," I say quietly to the glass. He might hear me, he might not. I hope he doesn't. "Only those who cannot express themselves civilly rely on crude substitutions in vocabulary." I sigh. I might as well talk to this window all night, because I have decided that I am not entirely fond of the words that slip from human mouthes. They are words that mean so much, and are simply empty air. I wonder why the moon and the stars even present us their beauty; we're disappointments. I wonder why the sky gives us rain which gives us life, because we've destroyed it. We've screwed with everything. I'm so sorry for all that humanity's done, and all the things that can never be normal again.

I think self-pity is holding my other hand, and loneliness and it are plotting the end of me.

template by chelsey

[k!ah]

A R A G O R N B L A CK M O R E My words were a terrifying snarl, one that I knew could chill a person to the bone. On the outside I looked calm almost, but on the inside a storm was raging within, mingles with burst of excitement. This is what I had wanted wasn't it? Excitement- way no. I had wanted drama and tension between the two families, not members of the family turning against their own. That made me sick, that made me want to knock some sense into the senseless bastard who aimed his arrow at the girls throat. It infuriated me that he had the guts to even confront the girl whilst he e was surrounded by people who would be willing to cut him down in seconds. What an idiot. This is how low the Birch’s have to stoop to gain their precious little attention. I fight back the urge to spit in the boys face. It was disgusting. A boy, no older than 14 is the next to speak up. His voice is shy, lacking self confidence in the beginning, but as the words begin to flow confidence begins to flow too. It was quite peculiar to arch as the boy stood hunched shoulders only to evolve; staring tall and proud as he begged the people around him to put down their weapons. It was pathetic really and I tried my hardest not to roll my eyes onwards the young boy. But would putting down our weapons really avoid blood begin spilled on this spacial evening? I, for one, highly doubt it- but I back the kid up anyways. “If I see another weapon out again I will personally kick you from this house, don't care if you are a Birch, or a Blackmore. No more weapons or I will make sure that you regret it.” I growl. But the tension doesn't stop there, no. Tuff begins to purr, his sickening voice sliding though the air, poisoning those who were too slow to cover the ears. My face drops to one of digest as he admits to attempting to rape the girl. My eyes narrow to slits. The rage that flares up inside of me is one that I cannot control. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, why had Tuff done it? I knew he was a pig, but this girl want just any girl on the street, she was one we all knew and that didn't even stop him rom trying to penetrate her. My eyes fall onto him, and I watch as his beady black eyes dance backwards and forwards as he spits his venom all over the people in front of him. I wanted to rip his eyes from his skull, my fingers destroying squashing the balls that gave him sight. I was so angry, I had never thought that anyone in my family would rape- or attempt to abuse- someone who was invited to the house as a guest. We were not those people, in front of the eye of the district we were many to act respectable, keeping our guilty pleasures a secret from the rest of the world. "Yeah Aragorn because us Blackmores so much better. Why haven't you done anything to that pig Tuff huh? Allowing him to practically manhandle Milo is unforgivable. You preach family loyalty yet allow this?” Logan says in response to my early lecture about how I expected better of the birches Instantly my attention is snapped away from Tuff and focused solely on the irritating pice of shit in front of me. How dare he, how dare he accuse me of allowing that Pig to touch the girl. How was it my fault? Did I encourage Tuff to violate the girls space? no. Did I eve suggest to Tuff that it would be a marvellous idea? no. Do I even talk to Tuff, that pig who is more disgusting than the shit that comes from my ass? No, no I dont. So how could logan even accuse me of such a disgusting act? But before I can even say one word Logan has the girl by the hand and it dragging her from the room. I try to take a deep breath, my body so tense that I could barely mov. I knew that there was one other time that I had been so angry and Logan, and that time was when he threatened to Kill Summer. I had been so blinded by my rage that I had beat him to a pulp. I had to avoid that situation. I couldn't do it, not with all these eyes, it just wouldn't look very good on my behalf. Not that the family was doing a bad job at looking good in front of the Birch’s in the first place. We looked like a bog group of people who were desperate to sooth our uncontrollable sex drives. But when someone from across the room opens their mouth and words fall out I loose it. Just the sound of his voice sounded like nails begging driven into my skull. And then he was saying some shit about people not being respectful. Respectful? Me, myself, couldn't care less about the fallen Birch’s. They were just a symbol of the families weakness. I scoff at the guy, my whole face no longer controlled. “Who could give a rats ass about them. They died cause they were to weak. Only the strong survive in this world, and if you are to weak to pull through you are going to die and people aren't going to give a shit about them. So take you ashamed ass somewhere else cause most people in this room, right now, couldn't give a fuck.” I scream at the guy, my face a mask of rage. It had been a long time since I had let my rage get the better of me. For so long I had been able to keep my cool, contain my feelings. But now, today, Logan, Tuff, That guys preaching about us begging pigs, had pushed me to far. I don’t even realise it until I am out of the door, that I had followed Logan into the hall. It only takes me a moment to find hi and when I do he and that girl are clinging to each other like berry and Simon. I roll my eyes before I reach on and grab Logan by the collar of his shirt. “Now you look here you little shit,” I growl at him pulling him away from the girl. I pull back my arm and clench my fist before letting it fly into his face, where it his flesh with a loud, but satisfying, thud. Then I push back against the wall, my hands balled in his collar. “How dare you, how dare you even accuse me for allowing that prick to even touch that girl. Can I control his mind? Can I make him do what I want? Tuff is a prick and one that I couldn't care less about. But by no means would I ever- ever- make anyone rape a child.” I growl my voice growing louder by each word. “Now if I were you, I would pull yourself together before you say something that you really regret. I did not want to have to punch you tonight- for fuck sake I am trying to leave a slightly decent impression on those shit bags in the other room. So you better fucking mind your words, or don't even come back at all- got that? Next time I wont be so lenient. Mum may have loved you, she may have cared about you, but me? I wont even think twice about kicking you to the curb. I don't love you, and I don't feel anything for you. So you bite your tongue- or you die.” I push my hands into his chest, crushing him against the wall before I release him and begin to turn away. I glance over at Milo and her tear streaked face, my eyes narrowed to slits, my eyes as cold as stone. I don't apologise, I don't even say a word. This is all because of that bitch in the first place. template by chelsey

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Logan Blackmore

"Dialogue"
"Hearing"
Thoughts
Narration

I cannot explain my feelings for Milo. I've been so confused about her ever since we met. Many things have happened since that first meeting so long ago. Tuff's actions from when Milo was last here still haunts me in my dreams. I find it hard to believe Aragorn didn't know about Tuff's disgusting act. He acts like some damn leader. "Milo...." I try in not so many words to let her know how I feel now. I'm going to war with Tuff over his despicable actions. He's lost what little shred of respect I had for him. Everything seems to go wrong for me in this house. I know Aragorn wants me out of this place. The other Blackmores don't care for me at all either. They all stood by when Aragorn beat my face in. Did anyone truly try and stop him? Not that I can remember.

I'm an outcast in this house. Always have been and always will be. I pull Milo into another hug, but this time, I don't let go for quite awhile. She's the one person in this house right now that has a calm soothing presence. Out of everyone in this house, she's probably the only one who wouldn't want to see me go into the games and die. As if on cue, Aragorn comes in and connects his fist with my face. Just like old times. I'm shivering with anger so I don't bother responding to his speech. Part of it still plays itself over in my head. "Mum may have loved you, she may have cared about you, but me? I wont even think twice about kicking you to the curb. I don't love you, and I don't feel anything for you. So you bite your tongue- or you die." He underestimates my power. Everyone else is way too afraid to speak up to Aragorn, but not me.

"The truth comes out huh Aragorn? I dare you to kick me to the curb. You act like each and every one of us in this house are slaves to you. The others maybe afraid of you, but not me. I'm done being your bitch. I'm a free man Aragorn. Kick me out? So be it, but I will not stay in a house where I'm not welcomed." My words although not entirely shocking still surprise me a bit. The built up anger finally made its way out. Half of me hopes to get kicked out. The other half slightly afraid despite the dare I made. No matter what happens though, I will not allow myself to be steamrolled by Aragorn. The man has went unchecked for too long. If he wants me dead well he's welcomed to try and kill me.

[brad bradford ★ d5b [arx]]

eirwen birch

district 2 - eighteen - the devil's spawn

Sure, I can play pretend. I've been doing it pretty much my entire life so dressing up in dainty clothes and parading around for a bunch of people who are dubbed as "family" but are really nothing more than some distant relatives that I don't give a damn about should be a piece of cake. Besides - there are bound to be festering wounds after such a gathering. In which case, I will gladly step in and offer a helping hand.

That is my job. To watch, to listen, to assess, and then to pounce - either to accommodate an asset or to get rid of an enemy. "Who is the enemy?" they ask. Ha. When they have to ask they already have a target on their back. Now whether or not that target is a mark for death or not is up to them. I suggest they choose wisely when they cross me. Even those who posses the name "Birch" aren't safe from me. Not anymore.

I lined up with the rest of my siblings, ready for inspection, but seeing as I have always aimed to please when it came to my parents, I knew I was suitably dressed. (All of the tattoos hidden from view, all of the scars still visible - exactly the way I need it.) And because this is supposed to be a family affair, I kept my outfit on the conservative side. For who was there that I wanted to impress ... in that way? Clearly Milo has someone to impress, but I was only focused on one thing tonight. My mission.

I had reported to the my Brothers earlier - in fact, only a few days after the death of dear Ares - reporting the "family" gathering I was required to attend. They had looked angry, my superiors I mean, but as soon as the name "Blackmore" slipped from my lips their grins were bright - even from underneath the dark hoods they wore to hide their faces from the street lights. The Blackmore name had become quite intriguing to the Brothers and Sisters of Asyria. They were good at what they did. And that is always something we welcome into our ranks - killers.

That brought me to my mission tonight - to find a likely candidate (candidates if I was lucky) to induct into the esteemed ranks of Asyria. And I was ready. Dressed in a loose-fitting, sleeved dress (needed only to conceal the knife holster I hid beneath) and my trusty stiletto heels, I knew I wouldn't stick out much, especially if everyone else was going to parade around like my sister was ... She was disappointing. So much potential there and she chooses to cling to this Logan - one Blackmore made unobtainable. Package deals were ... tricky to say the least. It was smart for me to steer clear of lovebirds.

As the members of my family blood relatives ... well whatever they were now that I had joined the cult, streamed into the Blackmore mansion, I could feel my pulse growing faster and faster as my heels clicked on the floor. As we made our way into the dining hall I knew that in an instant something would be happening. Now whether or not I would care what the quarrel would be about was yet to be determined, but one thing was certain, I needed to scope out who was attending this little shindig. I was told to keep high tabs on the elder Blackmore twins and any of my Birch relatives who seemed to fit the job description. I was looking for a new Brother or Sister. That was the only reason I was here. Our ranks had been growing thinner recently ... the Solothurn's were making death wishes with every member they killed.

But that was no matter tonight. Not when there was already a knife pulled. Props to the former little sister of mine. It's really quite a shame that she just isn't eligible to join me - she'd be a great addition to Asyria. The shouting tells me a few things but nothing I need bother with. Though it does confirm that this Logan Blackmore really is out of the picture. Another disappointment. I pull out a chair at the dining table, crossing my legs, resting my chin in my hand, and glancing around the entire hall, taking in reactions.

Cousin Matthias lingers in one of the corners, wearing a smile. If I only I could tell if it was one of scorn or one filled with excitement at all the maliciousness or one just of mocking - he might be on the list of possible inductees. But I cannot read him. Not at this moment anyway.

"In fact, her whole family is crazy. The whole lot of them. I bet they would all try to kill us if they could get away with it." And that is Tuff Blackmore, so correct in his accusations and most definitely on my list. Though I will have to note his impulsiveness - that is not always safe. Cousin Hades wants to leave, though he voices my thoughts when he answers, "To be fair, he's probably right." and as soon as I grin at it all, cousin Apollo decides to show up, pointing and arrow at Milo - classy. They are both out - Hades wants out already (I don't care the reason) and Apollo is threatening to kill his own. Well, my flesh and biological blood is a real disappointment. And as Thaddeus suggests no more weapons I nearly laugh aloud. Yep, also out.

However, as a few march from the hall I have the chance to see that every Blackmore - Logan exempt - is perfect! Abbie has this sarcastic look on her face, Summer preaches about the importance of family (hard to tell if that is good or bad at this point - the meaning of "family" certainly changed for me so why not her?) Camille is already making comments filled with sass and smarts, and her twin matching her. Brilliant. I could barely hold in my joy, though I was now choosing only to sip the wine that was already poured into glasses on the table. Jeez, even the youngest of the family was smiling at the whole act, slipping cake into her mouth with a smirk.

But it very clear that Aragorn is the one in charge in this house. And POWER is what we Asyrians cherish. But there is no way I am going to be making actual contact with any of these people tonight. They are all too busy yelling at each other. And so I only flick my toe and sip more wine. If I was ever assigned to kill any of these people - I would be glad. It would certainly be lots of fun to bring their heads back in a bag to headquarters. I bet even without a head they would be screaming at each other.

What silly children they all are. I smile and drain my glass, sitting up and tracing the rim of the glass with my finger. What a show they put on. All for my enjoyment.

---

i’m faking glory
lick my lips, toss my hair
and send a smile over

[Tom]

District 2 | 18 | Male | Diego Barreuco

Tonight was a night of horrors for the Birch's. With another 2 losses in the family again after losing Hannah and Ares, the Birch's credit was falling. The reputation of the family was terrible falling. Even Elliot knew this and was having to try harder to prove that he was stronger than most people. This night Elliot and the rest of the Birch's would be going to the Blackmore manor. Elliot heard many good things about how violent the Blackmore's are. Some even matching up to some of the Birch's in the family. The oldest Blackmore being Aragorn, also one of the more trained Blackmore's of their family.

Elliot's mother styling his hair to look as nice as possible. Already getting dressed in a suit and tie, his mother was telling him what the "event of the year" was for. All Elliot knew was that this thing was for the two biggest families to meet up and just have a nice dinner and such. There was no appeal for these types of things. Pereira always was telling him to be good at these sort of functions and honestly, he didn't care what happened at the function. That was, until the function happened and things went crazy.

Be a good man for your mother. Seem like the good kid. Then his mother's voice was already making it's way into his head. "Stop slouching boy." Elliot watched as Milo freaked out at some fat Blackmore, who Elliot could take easily. Honestly, Elliot wasn't paying attention most of the time. After all, the look his mother was giving him made him stay quiet and bite his tongue. The perfect child had to sit up straight and be polite to the family. Harder said than done with his family. Massive arguing and fighting already between Blackmore's and Birch's. One of his cousin's had his bow out already and honestly, that was one of the hardest times for Elliot to hold his words in. Then a girl by the window spoke with a sophisticated vocabulary and that made Elliot chuckle. Finally someone not as crazy as the rest. Sure I am crazy and love to train, but I am not like the rest of these losers.

Then Aragorn, as Elliot has heard, begins to get angrier as time goes by. Elliot's interest catches as Logan and Aragorn go at it arguing. There was something about manners directed towards Apollo and then some words from Logan. The two cause a bit of a commotion and things were just getting interesting, until Logan walked into a hallway and Aragorn close behind. Elliot's curiosity gets to the better of him. He mumbles under his breathe about going to look for a bathroom as he leaves towards the hallway Aragorn and Logan had went out of.

A turn here and a turn there, until he actually found where Aragorn and Logan were. He watched silently as Aragorn had hit Logan right in the face. Elliot has to bite his tongue to hold down a chuckle of amusement. Sure what they were fighting about wasn't good, but Elliot always loved to see pain on someone, besides family. Elliot was about to run out and stop the punch, but Elliot wanted to see what would happen. Then Logan and Aragorn were on about how Aragorn could kick out Logan in a heartbeat. Logan snapped back and told Aragorn to kick him to the curb. Elliot silently chuckled.

Elliot's feet moved towards the two Blackmore's. He looked at both of them as they watched him move towards them. Elliot smiled and said, "Well, aren't you two such eye openers. You have the Blackmore who believes he has control over all the Blackmore's, even thinking as much as to go over his parent's head to kick one of their own out. Then you have the rebellious one dating a girl that obviously the others don't like. It's pathetic really. The arguing and the hitting. Sorry, I forgot to mention myself. The name's Elliot, but I'd prefer you to call me Eli. I was just looking for the bathroom when I ran into this situation to see you hit your own family and then think you can kick him to the curb. That's not very family-like, though I'm not much of a family man either, but I still don't think I can run the Birch's. I mean imagine me trying to control Milo. There's no way in hell that I can control that cousin. And you shouldn't use such barbaric words as fuck. Like dude, use some intelligence. And, if you think you can control all the Blackmore's as some slaves, then I think that you're complete bullshit. sorry, there goes my intelligent words. Might as well not be polite now. Mother isn't even here. If you want to kill this boy because he's not listening, then you're gonna have to get through me to get to him, he may not be a Birch or even family, but he is right, you can't have control over every human being that you want." Elliot turned to leave, but right before he did, he threw a punch at Aragorn's face. His words echoing the room after. " And that's for calling us unsophisticated, when obviously, your family is just as bad."

[ table by anzie ]

[kousei ♚]

R A V E N B L A C K M O R E

I don't have high hopes for this dinner to be completely honest but I still went through all this effort. I stare looking at my reflection in the mirror, my best suit, I quite like this suit and Aragorn told us to dress our best, and this is the best I could find. The white shirt seems to make my dark hair stand out the most, dark hair, dark eyes, my hair and eyes. My hair has been washed and combed excessively so it's highlighted. Ever since I turned sixteen I just seemed to care more about my appearance, bought better clothes, hair products, lotion, soap, deodorant. All that kind of stuff I invested into myself so I look the very best. It's not like I'm looking to impress anyone specifically, I just have to look my absolute best.

In addition to my dark hair and dark eyes standing out due to the white shirt I possess dress trousers that have a very dark shade of grey they appear black to the untrained eye. Black, polished shoes decorate my feet also. A black blazer shrouds the white shirt and a black bow tie is tied tightly around my neck. Maybe I went a little overboard with this but honestly I don't care, I'll dress as nice as I want. Honestly, it's the people who put no effort into their appearance that I worry about, because they are the people who don't care what others think about them and do whatever they want despite society telling them not to.

After triple-checking that my appearance is up to scratch I nod to my reflection and he nods back at me and I turn and walk away. I don't really have high hopes for this dinner, not with people like Logan lurking around the dinner table. I know he's my brother and I love him but honestly, he scares me. His obsession with killing and breaking necks puts even me off. He crossed the line when he threatened to kill Summer and Aragorn lost it, immediately trying to beat him to a bloody pulp and I bravely stupidly went to defend him, effectively standing up to the head of our house. That'll probably backfire on me in the long run.

To be completely honest I do not think this will go well, I only know about this Birch family because of all the failures deceased tributes they have. If I remember correctly one is the sixty-third, one if the sixty-fifth and two this year. They're desperate, four deceased tributes doesn't exactly make your rep shoot up to high levels. None of us Blackmore's have gotten reaped yet and I kind of hope that doesn't happen, I mean sure a bunch of them are psychotic killers who would probably get like five kills but kills doesn't always mean winning. And I'll be damned if we end up like the Birch's. I don't even know these people and I would much prefer it if they weren't coming into the house.

Most of the time when someone who isn't a Blackmore enters the house it usually ends with them taking a tour to the basement and more likely never coming out. I wanted to take a trip to the basement, not to visit some corpses I made like some people, no, I'm not a sicko, I'm not a killer. I wanted to drink blood tonight, I wanted to take my jar of blood and begin to drink, then I would slink back to my room and tell my diary about it. I keep this diary hidden under my bed, I prefer to call it the book of secrets, secrets that nobody but me and the book can know. Maybe I'll visit the book of secrets again after the dinner, and then it will do it's job; listening to me.

When the Birch's start arriving I stop myself from letting out an audible groan, I would hate for my face to end up like Logan's after all...

Shocking, just truly shocking, the lot of them. This isn't the first time this has happened but it still never ceases to shock me. They're always doing stuff like this, my family, it's not a surprise any more, just a shock. Am I really related to these people? I know I am related to these people. Tuff most of all. Things happened so quickly, a mini fight broke out between Tuff and some other Birch girl. I wasn't expecting cheerful giggling and pleasantries being exchanged but that was just completely unexpected. Then some other Birch boy asks if he can leave. Then another Birch decides it would be appropriate to pull out a bow and arrow.

Sickening.

Aragorn no doubt is being angered by this and I hate to see him angered because it usually means violence. I try to ignore what's going on around me and just stay seated, staring at my table and just letting the information flow through my ears and my brain soak it up, their words have no impact on me. Well, that's until the words 'you tried to rape me' fall from the Milo's (the girl Tuff was fighting with is called Milo) red lips. It's then that my head snaps up to look at Tuff who doesn't even seem to be denying it, he confirms it. It would be an understatement to say I am surprised, I knew Tuff was a sick fuck but not that suck. I knew he was sick, fat fuck but come on. She's a child, she can't possibly be any older than fifteen. What is wrong with the world? No, the question I should be asking is what if wrong with this family. We're not just murderers, it turns out we're rapists to.

Not we.

Not we, I am not like them, I don't kill, I don't -try- to rape. I drink.

Logan takes Milo and storms out of the room, Aragorn, now red as a tomato with rage follows them.

"Tuff, you sicken me." I say simply but then the rest of the room comes into view. For that moment I am weightless, I am weightless but my next words are heavier than lead. "You all sicken me."

[Meghan]

Milo Birch
Fourteen
District Two
1,133 words
template by
Meghan

It was official. The entire world was legitimately mad. Completely and utterly bonkers.

I thought for a moment I was safe. No longer would I have to wear the mask that was expected of me, and instead I could just get lost in the arms of the boy I could not figure out. Logan's embrace was actually quite pleasant compared to the smog that overcame me in the sickly sweet hug of his older brother.

I could not describe my feelings for the rugged boy. Perhaps it was because the pair of us were quite different from our respective families. The Birches were nothing but embarrassing at best. Subpar, easy bait, and quite humiliating at the very least. They could never understand me. I had seen things they could only speak of. Words. That was all they were. It seemed to me they always were playing a giant game of pretend. We paraded around the district like we owned it, but truth was, the Birches were nothing but a hinderance to those more worthy.

"Milo..." Logan's voice is filled with emotion I cannot understand. I pull back slightly, my hands steady on his waist and examine his features gently. His eyes seem to convey the hurt that I feel yet his exterior is tough and hardened. I wonder what hard truth lies beneath his polished surface.

"Logan?" I want nothing more than to bury my tears in his gentle touch and to forget about every trouble I ever had. "Logan, I -- "

The words never leave my lips because soon Tuff's more sophisticated twin is bursting his way into the corridor and interrupting the little moment his brother and I had carved for ourselves. Without so much of a hello, Aragorn greets Logan by pulling him away from my shaking form and releasing a hot fist right into his stiff jaw. I release a scream of surprise as the two shout poison at each other. 

“How dare you, how dare you even accuse me for allowing that prick to even touch that girl. Can I control his mind? Can I make him do what I want? Tuff is a prick and one that I couldn't care less about. But by no means would I ever- ever- make anyone rape a child.” Aragorn rants, his face menacing as he growls at his brother. I find my brow furrowing as I register his words. A child? Children indicate helplessness. Weakness.

I may be on the young side, but I certainly am not a child. I find myself growing red with the insult, but I have to bite my tongue. It would not be wise to piss off yet another Blackmore, especially if I want to find companionship in their sadistic ranks. Tuff was the exception to this charade. For all others, I must show respect.

I clear my throat, hoping the boy may take notice of me. "For the record, I do not think it is your fault that barbarous oaf attacked me." I state my words plainly, and listen to his rant continue. 

“Now if I were you, I would pull yourself together before you say something that you really regret. I did not want to have to punch you tonight- for fuck sake I am trying to leave a slightly decent impression on those shit bags in the other room. So you better fucking mind your words, or don't even come back at all- got that? Next time I wont be so lenient. Mum may have loved you, she may have cared about you, but me? I wont even think twice about kicking you to the curb. I don't love you, and I don't feel anything for you. So you bite your tongue- or you die.”

My mouth is agape as I look the bastard square in the eye. He stares me down like I am merely a disappointment, and I have to swallow insult and bitter thoughts. I am already treading dangerously close to bloody waters. 

I have to do something to make this right. I have to say something - anything that will get this man off of Logan's case. It would be futile of me to doom him to homelessness all because I could not control my temper.

It becomes hard to swallow. My throat is choking me as I push the daggers back towards my stomach. I cannot word vomit now. It would only cause further mayhem.

So I do the last thing I had wished to do on a night like this.

I apologize. Tears in my eyes, knife in the back of my throat, hair askew, I whisper two and a half words to the angry man. 

"I'm sorry." Sorry for what? "I did not mean to ruin your party. I.... I just got so angry." Silently, I reach for Logan's hand. I need the comfort that being near him brings. "Tuff is a right old bastard and he deserved it. I don't apologize for hurting him, but I do apologize for making a scene. I never intended for things to get so... so out of hand, I suppose." 

I look towards my feet and wait for a response. It hardly registers to me when my idiotic cousin Elliot comes storming into the hall, ready to say his piece. His words do not echo until I hear my name. Only then do I snap to attention.

"I mean imagine me trying to control Milo. There's no way in hell that I can control that cousin. And you shouldn't use such barbaric words as fuck. Like dude, use some intelligence. And, if you think you can control all the Blackmore's as some slaves, then I think that you're complete bullshit. sorry, there goes my intelligent words. Might as well not be polite now. Mother isn't even here. If you want to kill this boy because he's not listening, then you're gonna have to get through me to get to him, he may not be a Birch or even family, but he is right, you can't have control over every human being that you want."  The boy never stops talking. The minute I begin to listen is the minute I lose interest. It is like his mouth runs a mile a minute, I simply cannot stand it.

"Oh bugger off, Eli." I mutter, and grip Logan's hand tighter. "Logan doesn't need your fucking protection." And he has me, does he not? What more could he need? "And nobody controls me but myself. You all got that?" I snatch my fingers away from Logan just to prove a point. I am the independent murderess, not the damsel in distress. Logan may be slowly itching his way into my heart but he did not have to protect me.  I could fend for myself in this world of sharks. 

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Logan Blackmore

"Dialogue"
"Hearing"
Thoughts
Narration

"He may not be a Birch or even family, but he is right, you can't have control over every human being that you want." I've lost concentration due to my anger toward Aragorn that I don't notice a Birch stumbled onto the scene. This man may not be a Blackmore, but it's nice to have someone who doesn't hate my guts. I turn to address this Birch. "So right you are. Aragorn here thinks he is some sort of king in this damn house. I've had enough of it." Truth is the line between Aragorn and I has been crossed long ago when he punched my face in repeatedly. This incident with Tuff just pushes me further away from being a Blackmore. I'm tired of being the pushover in the house. Far as I'm concerned, Aragorn has just lost a member of his family that is if he considers me that.

"Oh bugger off, Eli." So that's his name. Eli is someone I freely admit could be a friend based on him standing up to Aragorn. That's yet another person who refuses to bow down to him. It feels great to know Aragorn isn't in control anymore especially of me. "Logan doesn't need your fucking protection." She has a point, but I need supporters. My feelings for Milo just turned out to be the catalyst of the mayhem caused tonight. Erase my meeting with Milo when Tuff had been here and things definitely would have been different. "And nobody controls me but myself. You all got that?" Milo happens to snatch her fingers away which brings about a moment of pain that clearly shines in my eyes. I never had any intention of controlling her. Aragorn is ruining this for me just like always. I'm done with this family.

"I hope you're happy Aragorn. Ruining everything just like always. You finally spoke up about how you feel about me. While the truth is coming out I may as well tell you that the dislike is mutual if not stronger on my end." I need Aragorn to hear the hatred I have for him. This house is no longer my domain. I'm sure when the family notices I'm gone from the place they'll be happy. Let them. I look at Milo with a hurtful expression. It's obvious to me now that she doesn't feel the same way I do for her. I give a weak smile before heading to the exit. "It feels good to finally be free of this shit hole." With that my hand opens the door and out I go. The Blackmore house will be free of the disgrace known as Logan Blackmore. Living on the streets should be a challenge, but I'm up for it. All the anger inside me though needs to be released before heading out. I'd rather not get locked up for murder when I don't mean it. A nearby tree will do the trick. I take out one of the bone knives from my necklace and proceed to slash the tree. "Fuck Aragorn. Always ruining things for me. Even Summer yet again finds her way in to ruin my life. And fuck Milo. Stood up for her and this is what happens." Stroke after stroke the tree receives. Sweat begins to pour down my face, but I don't stop. Those three have cost me so much.

[Knuckles]

Matthias Evander Birch

All this fighting is growing old fast, but it won't stop the war slicing through my skull bouncing through the walls carrying my body forward. Fire dances before my eyes as my hands ball tightly into fists looking around at everyone wondering why this fight rages on. My eyes glare at people as they slam their fist into the face of another person standing before them fighting. Words of hate fly through the air ringing through my ears before flying away forever. My eyes turn towards my own family, willing them to stop fighting, but I know the longer we remain in this manor, the more the fighting will continue. It happens each and every time people place two prominent families together in one place. Both families wanting to be the best, but neither will truly succeed. The words spoken moments ago flew from my lips before any control was brought upon myself, but it's all true. Every last person in this house is a pig- including myself. I'm just as bad as them for speaking up, but my opinion is my own, and I honestly don't care what anyone else thinks.

Whispers bounce through my skull as my head turns towards the girl staring out the window. Her words weren't anything important as I couldn't even make out what was completely said. My feet turn away from her walking towards the guy who just insulted my family- he called them weak, and that only the weak die. The tiny drum ticking behind my chest pounces to life spreading blood rapidly through my body. My jaw clenches tighter while pain surges through my skull. It feels like someone just slammed the blade of an axe into the top of my head. My eyes narrow as the voices around the room become an a muffled hum. Ringing roars through my ears like someone let loose a lion in the room prancing around yelling at every single person in sight. I allow a slow deep breath the chance of surging through my body with an attempt of cooling myself off, but it doesn't work. My hands shake violently at my side as my face flushes red as my blood pressure rises high above the sky. He insulted my family, my fallen family, and nobody gets away with it. He's a pig, and I will kill this bastard.

My hand slides along the top of a chair full of innocence. The feeling is cooling, and relaxing as my hand slides from one side to another, but it's not here to be innocent. It's going to come into life over and over again. My hands wrap around the top- my fingers interlocking carefully with one another before lifting the chair over my head. This house belongs to a bunch of pigs, and I will make a pigs pin of it. Every object looming in sight will be destroyed just as the lives of those I loved were taken away so easily. I slam the chair into the wall over and over again shattering the delicate innocence lurking behind the wood. The sound brings joy to my ears as a smile laced with malice spreads wide across my face. I slam the chair into the wall again and again beating every ounce of anger into life. I throw the chair into the ground before stomping on the shattered pieces. My feet pound holes through the remaining part of the chair before kicking it away from my sight. I turn towards the direction of the fool and move swiftly in his direction prepped for slaughter.

Yelling screams through my head as the fighting carries on outside the dinning hall. My eyes turn towards Milo wondering what the hell she thinks she's doing messing with one of the Blackmores. They aren't worth my time- they aren't worth anything but a pile of mud waiting for a pig to jump in. I stop feet in front of the guy who called my family weak. My tongue slides along my dried lips trying to decide who I should speak to. My hands latch onto my pant leg fighting to control the violent convulsions flying rapidly through my body as every hair except the hair on my head rises high into the sky. "Don't- you- ever say that again. You are the weak ones as you and your family never had the guts to even volunteer for the games. You call my family weak one more time, and I promise you, I will personally tear your head completely off your body. I will show you how weak I am." My eyes bounce from person to person showing each individual I will take nothing from anyone especially those who bash my family. "That's not a threat it's a promise."

Narration 7f8e9d
Thoughts f2dec0
"Hearing 8c8ba9"
"Speech 81a296"
(other b5aa99)

[Meghan]

Annalise Birch
District Two - Eleven - 491 words

There is a rareness in silence. It is a strange brokenness that crinkles against the ever-flowing tide. It is the chaos against the accepted definition of mayhem. It is the meekness in the sea of bravery and thirst. The silent being is not the accepted demeanor, but it is the chosen character of the foolhardy, and the fearless. It is accepting that even without words, your opinion is still present. It is allowing the trend of the undercurrent to wash over you and put you in one group or the other.

I am the silence in the midst of the discord. Since we have thrown ourselves against these proper halls and stained the marble with our crimson anxiety, we have overtaken the black sea. They think us all cowards, cloaked in the revulsion and horror that losing so many of our number brings forth. Our dignity is mocked and they take pleasure in scorning at our unprofitable bids to set the records straight. We are the shunned souls. Rejected, mangled and disgraced in front of our only culture. 

It seems they delight in our strife. Why else would our presence be so lusted after in the wake of  our decease? It is straightforward, they only hope to mock us. To make us understand our shame so that they could take the throne for themselves. 

Have they no understanding of the repercussions of their disdain? We may not have strength in capacity, but concern must be shown in the face of abundance. It is simply put: there are more branches in our family tree. As a unit, we will always be more lethal. 

Squabbles break forth from the tight reign our leaders held upon our cage. Our rebellion is evident in the crescendo of their shrieks and the fluttering of our punches. The barbarians have run rampant and the lull the crowd had fallen into before is thoroughly diminished. 

It is only I who remain permissive. I have become the still statue as the anarchy flies through the room. My eyes bare through their misdeeds as I patiently wait for the blows to stop. It does not bid well for our families to riot, but it does complete my own objective. They overlook me and think of me as nothing. 

In doing so, I become our greatest asset. You cannot truly extinguish what you do not understand. I am invisible among their contest of sovereignty, and that by itself makes me powerful.

As their screaming progresses I choose simply to observe. My silence has become the extraordinary and with every screech they lose their grandeur and I place it upon myself. 

It is only I who will remain sovereign. I am the one who will pervade as they slowly will diminish. 

The Birches and the Blackmores will fade away with the conquest of time, and only the shadows, the quiet, easily dismissed shadows, will linger.  

There is a rareness in silence.

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[k!ah]

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God knows what Mother and Father were thinking when they told me that tonight we would be attending a gathering between the Birch’s and the Blackmore’s. I knew that it was a tradition thing, something that happened every year but I also knew that I hadn't attend one in a couple years. Sighing I pulled on the black jacket to my suit before rolling the rest of my family from the Door. Eliot was in front of me, and as per usually he looked as smug as ever. I could woo the tag from the back of his jacket hanging out and it took all I had not to reach up and fix it. I was a guy who had to have everything perfect, you have no idea how much pain it causes me to ignore little things like that. Close your eyes, I tell myself. pfft, as though that would help. Sighing ZI finally give into my needs and grab him by the back of the jacket where I don't say a sod to his reluctance I just shove the tag away, hidden from view, before I pat his back with a satisfied smile. “much better.”

It didn't take us long before we were standing outside the Blackmore estate. It was huge, and elegant and it made me almost wander if these people were as bad as we made them out to be. Shrugging I follow the rest of my family inside, where there was already tension building as Milo, perfect little Milo, had a rather big Blackmore guy in a pressed up against a table, I think i is, a knife pressed to his throat. A frown burrows into my forehead but it is only there for a moment as I watch her get dragged away by Terry and then people start throwing around some harsh digesting pageful words. Like they were going to make a difference. I smirk to myself before I spilt from my surpassed family, my feet taking me over to a table where a gel was piling her plate with food whilst snaking on bit and pieces.

She was a rather pretty girl, her short dirty blade hair surrounding her pretty face, one that seemed to scream trouble. Ahh must be a Blackmore. I walk closer to her, my voice mocking, “You know, if you don’t share, you’re going to gain weight.” I watch as her body tenses for a moment before she brushes it off with a small sweet fuck off. I smile to myself, I liked this one, she had style. “Now now thats no way a lady should be speaking,” I purr and I take a step closer so that I am now standing beside her instead of behind.

My pale hand reaches for a small cake on the table, which I examine closely before allowing it to enter my mouth. Just as the cake slips past my lips I hear a huge bang and then an outburst of angry words. It was Matthias. I could tell as soon as the words began to spill from his lips that he was furious. He was never one to really hold his tongue. I smirk at his anger and watch as Aragorn, the guy who thought he was king, realised a whole sentence which consisted of could words and a loud voice. Wow people could really be dramatic. I turn away from the commotion once again, unable to watch as Matthias smashed a rather nice chair into the wall. It shattered to bit, pieces showering the ground.

Making one. Huge. Mess.

No.

No I would not go clean it up.

No.

This time, out of all times, I had to hold back.

I could feel my fingers begin to twitch as I hear the last of the pieces hit the stone ground.

No.

I shove my hand into the pocket of my jacket where I cling to the small round coin. Usually it would bring me comfort and hold me back… but…

I turn around to see the mess that had been made, my whole face screwing up in disgust.

I couldn't hold back.

I sigh with frustration before I swiftly make my way over to the ruined chair. I begin to pick the pieces up from the ground, my hand catching a sharp pieces that drew blood. I ignored it. “Stupid Matthias. Could keep his rage in check even if it was just for a few hours.”

I hope no one notices me, Mother would be disappointed.

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Leviathan Swallow-Birch

Master of the coin, the coin of my survival.

template by Anzie

[анзие (Anz)]

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i need a little sympathy

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Kaia returned from the basement to what might as well have been a full-scale invasion of Birches. For a moment she's disoriented by the number of strangers in their otherwise private home but she gives her head a quick shake and takes in the situation.

(Her eye is caught briefly by a boy wielding a bow at another boy she doesn't recognize - both of them spawn from the infamous Birch tree, she assumes - and it amuses her to think that the Birches are as dysfunctional as any other family. Their time in the spotlight is failing, isn't it? But then, almost like she is a magnet and Kaia is a piece of metal - she is not a piece of metal she is so much more - Kaia's eye is drawn to Adriana, a small but troubled expression flickering over her features. She has no idea what to think of the other girl.)

Kaia takes a brief moment to appreciate her foresight that had her cleaning up and dressing better before leaving the basement. It's not like she was playing with anything, but it got a bit messy cleaning up the knives she'd recently used. Who knows what would happen if I came up drenched in blood? Perhaps none would notice, but she can feel the weight of at least one pair of eyes on her frame, and Kaia flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder carelessly, fixing a smirk on her mouth. Let them stare. She'll put on a show.

When she walks forwards it feels like she's on no-man's land, crossing the room between Birches as Summer's voice rings out in complete indignation at the bow-wielder's actions. Kaia huffs a laugh because of course the Birches understand nothing about loyalty. They have never had a true leader like Aragorn, and likely never will. Aragorn is not just our brother but our master. I'll gladly be his pet.

There is sophistication in her willingness, and she'll always see it as such.

Kaia places herself in the corner with Arendella, who stuffs her face unconcernedly. Kaia flicks her sister an amused look as she settles herself artistically against the wall to watch the show. (But she's ready to throw herself into the fray should Aragorn become endangered, her body hums with building adrenaline and it's all for the man who is her master and adoptive brother all at once.)

"Put it down. Now."

"You know, to avoid death and or severe bleeding."

"You want him, Milo. Don't hurt his feelings by pretending otherwise."

Kaia's eyes flicker up at the response from yet another man, but his voice is not unknown to her. Even before he speaks she can tell that Aragorn will be mad, and Kaia has to resist speaking up to stop him, has to physically bite her cheek to stop the words ("Don't do that, don't be stupid Logan.") from escaping her lips.

She has to let her brother make his mistake.

""Yeah Aragorn because us Blackmores so much better. Why haven't you done anything to that pig Tuff huh? Allowing him to practically manhandle Milo is unforgivable. You preach family loyalty yet allow this?"

Stupid, Kaia thinks later about the situation. He is so stupid.

But the words are out there and Aragorn is noticeably furious, the rage crackling in his dark eyes like electricity is about to shoot straight out and incinerate Logan where he stands. (Kaia would not much be surprised if Aragorn had that ability.) In a blink of an eye he's gone, followed her other brother and his amour out of the room into the hall.

And Kaia's compelled to follow, pushing herself off the fucking wall like an idiot willing to lay down her very life to protect her true leader.

She misses the display of strength Aragorn produces but she's greeted with the consequences, a black eye already forming on Logan's skin when she stands at the door, hand resting lightly against the frame. "I don't love you, and I don't feel anything for you. So you bite your tongue- or you die."

"I'm done being your bitch. I'm a free man Aragorn."

He is an idiot to give this all up for love. Love, Kaia thinks with a small scoff, love has nothing on the thrill of knowing that the scar belongs to you even if it is tattooed upon someone else's skin. Love has nothing on the triumph of besting someone in ways other than a trick knee on the training mat or a well-executed move that leaves the competitor flat on his back.

Besides, this is not love.

Kaia's eyes linger on Aragorn's muscular frame, and she allows herself a tiny smile.

So focused on her thoughts is Kaia that she doesn't notice someone else slip by her, yet another Birch. (It's like they've bred overnight.) The boy calling himself Eli idiotically stands between her brothers, eyes on Aragorn's as he delves into some grand speech of claimed hypocrisy and righteousness, drawing on the word mother that stings Kaia's head and heart. In that moment she decides she doesn't like the boy.

She likes him even less when he strikes Aragorn.

"Oh bugger off, Eli."

"I hope you're happy."

The words mean nothing to Kaia in this moment.

Before Eli can make his sweeping exit Kaia's moved, a sharp knife in her hand in a blink of an eye, and years and years of training has given her reflexes that now have her pinning Eli against the wall, the knife resting lightly across the skin of his neck. The sound of footsteps have her eyes flicking to the side briefly (Don't be an idiot Logan.) but she refocuses on Elliot and bares her teeth to him in a dangerous smile.

"Hello there," she purrs, pressing her frame against his. "I don't believe we've met properly." Kaia allows the insinuation to seep into her tone, keeping her knife hand steady. Tipping her head to the side to breathe against his ear she whispers, "I'm Kaia, and that was my brother you just hit."

to sore my insecurities

[attr="class","KaiaBSlider"]

Ivoire Kaia Blackmore

my conscience is as heavy as my ego

If Tom has a problem with Kaia attacking Eli, please let me know and I'll adjust it <33

[Meghan]

T E R R Y  B I R C H

Terence Oliver Birch knew from the beginning that the night before him would be an absolute disaster. As he shuffled around the house with his brother Hades and his father, Servern at his heels, he did not put too much effort into impressing the folks he would be visiting that night. Truth was, he had waited until the last minute to even get ready.

The Blackmores did not deserve his respect, but neither did the Birches. If anything, Terry considered himself a third party of the group.

It was true, in a sense. He didn't really fit in anywhere, not even with his immediate family. It was no wonder their mother had left them. His father was a difficult person to live with, and Hades, well... nobody could really describe Hades. 

Terry was only at the party because his father had insisted they keep up appearances. Nobody had to have fun, they just had to show up. That was all there was to it, really. 

It did not take long for disaster to strike. Milo, tiny little, fourteen year old Milo, of all people, decided that the beginning of the party was the best moment for the tension to crack. Before anyone even had the opportunity to help themselves to appetizers, she was flying across the room and holding a knife to the throat of a boy ten times her size.

What the actual hell? Terry's thoughts were quick and to the point. He did not think through his actions before he jumped into the scuffle with them. Milo may not have been much, but she was family, and the very least he could do was to keep her from killing somebody in the middle of a crowded room. Nobody seemed to have much sense these days. Quiet and studious Terry had not attempted to cause much mayhem in his days, so his family's blunt and straining efforts to maintain control over the world was a stark opposite of his generally more meek behavior. 

At least Terry knew the proper moment to bite your tongue and hold back your fist. It was a shame, really, that he had to do this for other people too. 

"It's okay, Milo." He whispered in her ear as the fat-oaf of their rival family made some horrid speech. It's not like Terry necessarily disagreed with his accusations against the Birches, but he didn't appreciate the vulgar tone he used to address his younger cousin.

"Asshole." Terry mumbled under his breath as Milo escaped his arms to run out into the hall. Tuff was dim, that much was true.

"You too, Apollo. Pulling a weapon on your own cousin. How thick can you get?" He wondered for a moment if everyone thought him stupid to pull the pair apart. It was a risky move, after all. A bead of sweat dripped down his neck as he thought of all the possible scenarios that could have played out if he had not intervened.

No, it was good he had separated the pair. It did not do him much good to dwell on others, anyway, for their opinion was all too temporary.

With a loud sigh, Terry followed the quickly growing crowd towards the hall. He was about to enter the door when a figure blocked his way. 

Somebody he recognized all too clearly. Except... they looked older? 

It felt as if Terry's heart stopped completely as he stared at the newcomer, eyes wide and mouth open. A blonde girl around his own age stood next to the boy, but Terry hardly paid attention to her. He drew one of his calloused hands to his mouth and stared at the man in front of him.

"C-C-Cassius?" He could say no more as he backed into the ballroom. The man followed, and suddenly the room grew completely silent.

All eyes were on the pair of them. 

"My name is not Cassius... However... He was my twin brother. My name is Vi-- not important. You can call me V." The boy grabbed his hand in a strong grip and shook it firmly. Terry had no time to respond as the boy pushed past him and entered the room completely.

"Um...hello. Can somebody please tell me where I could find Cecelia and Lorcan Birch?" The man's voice was gruff and low. It was clear he was older than most of the kids.

The room stayed silent for a minute longer. 

And then, chaos.

Words: 732
 

OOC: Vinnie has entered the room. Nobody but his parents, and perhaps his aunts and uncles, would have known of his existence. He has been the family's greatest secret (just like it is a secret that Terry is not related to any of them, and is fact from District One). This would obviously be a huge deal because as of this thread, Cassius has been dead for over three years. Vinnie and Cassius are identical. The only difference between them is that Vinnie, as of this thread which takes place right after the 66th games, is now 20, and also that he has a crippled leg and walks on a cane. In case you forgot, Cassius died from a deep gash on his leg. Don't be confused, Cassius is indeed dead, but the Birches/Blackmores are free to be confused at first. Nobody would know his real name for sure besides the people knew of his existence all along, although people are welcome to have their speculations, especially since Beatrice screamed his name right before the sword swung through her neck, and they all heard the letter from Vinnie that Ewe read right before killing Iago, and that Jim read at the Beatrice/Storm "funeral". However he never gave his name in those letters, and perhaps they could have just been some random enigma up until this point. 

Good luck and enjoy the mayhem!

[ali]

Morana Blackmoore

Never was a girl with a wicked mind

Morana Blackmore adored parties. She loved the way the music echoed through her chest, the way people laughed at jokes that weren’t even that funny, the way drinks tasted that bit sweeter, the way the dancing almost became sexual and the amount of food on offer; if she could, she would attend all the parties she wanted. Morana, however, had a certain distaste for parties which involved her beloved family. Her family congregating alone in one house was enough, but when they had to mingle with guests? That was a whole separate party by its self. Morana’s adopted family often did not know how to act around others, around people who were of great status. Acting normal for most of the children was, certainly, a challenge; and this put a sour taste on Morana’s tongue at the thought of the party she had to attend once a year with her family. *** “Why must I attend this party again??” the young, sickly Morana asked as her mother ran a come through her tangled locks. “It is important that we remain, a family which is, high in the social status of our District my sweet” Mother Blackmore rolled the words off her tongue as if they were made of silk “One day we may need this status to aid one of you to Victory in the games, or…God Forbid. The Detention Centre.” Morana wasn’t really listening to her mother’s speech about honour and respect and all else important that the party would bring them. All she wanted to do was to get out of the hideously frilly dress her mother had dressed her in. The fabric itched against Morana’s skin and she could not quite breathe because it was so tight around her chest; the dress was a hideous pink colour too. Morana hated pink. Some of her other sisters, who sat patiently waiting for their hair to be combed and tamed, also looked distastefully in their dresses. Poor Olivia was just about pulling her dress apart she was so uncomfortable. Morana had no idea what to expect. She had never been to a party before- she did not think she would like it. She would have to talk to people. And Morana didn’t like talking to people she did not know much because she did not trust them; then again, she did not trust her familiars either. These people were not of her blood, even if they were, Mother Blackmoore had taught her to never trust anyone even if they were you’re kin. Morana glanced up at Mother Blackmoore as she shooed her from the dressing table wondering to herself, who else doesn’t trust Mother. *** Naturally and like every other year, Morana was late to this particular party. She wore a tight, short, possibly too revealing dress and heels that no one should be able to walk in drunk- let alone sober- but it made Morana feel a little better about attending this party. As slowly snuck out of her room, she applied a quick coat of a daring shade of red lipstick to her lips before gracefully descending into the room in which the party was being held. To her surprise the atmosphere this time was different, not party like at all, so beckoned the nearest server of drinks towards her with her long slender fingers. “Come here darling….” She sighed as she stared miserably into the party room, rolling her eyes to herself as she picked up a glass of champagne and downed it all in one before picking up another and striding confidently into the room. The atmosphere was tense and foreboding, Birches and Blackmoore’s where shooting silent threats at one another with the simplest of glances. Morana watched her footing carefully as she made her way over to young Summer and her dearest brother Aragon, taking a quick swig of champagne as she surveyed the others. “What did I miss?”

And I could belong to the night

[Sage]

Arianna Pine

"Says"
Thinks
Does

I stare at my reflection in the vanity mirror above my dresser, my dark eyes a stark contrast to my pale, almost porcelain skin, fixing my dark curls so that they are not a bother while I most likely dance at this party my mother insists that I attend. I sigh, pinning the final bit up before fixing my eye make-up so that my eyes pop. Standing, I brush off the knee-length deep red dress I was forced to wear and slip on a pair of black heals. I'm supposed to have fun. "It will be fun, a chance for you to get out of your funk" Mothers voice rings in my head as I turn away from the mirror. For the last few weeks, I have been mourning my brother, Ares, and haven't really left the house apart for training. The friends I used to have have tried talking to me but I've shut them out. Perhaps tonight, I can just let go and have some fun with my cousins although I highly doubt that. I don't belong to this family, I am not related by blood and although my mother doesn't care, the rest of the family does. Normally, i am not really accepted at family events and when I am, i am given funny looks. I hate it, I just wish I could hide away from everyone and only ever be seen by my two brothers.

The Blackmores, they are a family I know almost nothing about apart from the fact that they are acquainted with the Birches. Why in Ripreds name we would have a dinner there is beyond me but no matter, i will be on my best behavior tonight and try to ignore the stares of the people from my adopted family saying that I don't belong. I walk alone along the streets towards the address written on a torn page from my notebook and find that the house is beginning to fill up with people. Discomfort courses through my veins as sweat beads on my forehead. I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here. The thought plays through my mind as I enter the house and I feel eyes on me, making a blush color my cheeks. I try to blend in with the background but the crimson dress makes it extremely difficult to do. I watch as one of my cousins, Milo I think her name is, is dragged off by a boy that I have never seen before but I assume that is a Blackmore. He does not look happy. I wonder what he's pissed about I don't share my thoughts because here, I am an outcast, an unwanted but present part of the Birch family, perhaps with the recent passing of Ares, they will be kinder to me but I don't expect them to, to them, I was never truly his sister, I was just a guest who was lucky to share his name. If my brothers were here, the rest of the family would welcome them with open arms but me, never. I shrink back from the crowd and wander away from all of them, eager to escape them. "Oh, Ms. Pine, I am so glad you could join us." a voice stops me cold and I spin on my heal, feeling my training start to kick in. If I wanted to, I could kill a man faster than he could even react with my heal. Mr. Birch stands before me and smiles but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. I curtsy to him. "I heard that it was a big family get together and I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing my family" I put an emphasis on the word family and his eyes narrow at me. I glare back, turning away from him.

Walking quickly, I find a balcony and the cool evening air feels nice against my warm skin. It is far too tense inside that house, I hate it. Mr. Birch, though he seems pleasant enough on the outside, is truly just a man hell-bent on raising his kids to be cold blooded killers. it sickens me. I breathe in the fresh spring air and smell the scents of cooking food wafting through the air, drawing me back inside. The dining area is almost dead quiet and I see the reason for it. He bears a striking resemblance to Beatrice and Cassius and I am not surprised when one of the people here stutters Cassius' name. I have heard whispers about another child who lived in the Capitol but I was never sure if he was real or not. Either way, I do not particularly care. He will probably be like the rest of them and ignore me as if I am a piece of trash because honestly, in the Birch family, I am not even deserving of being a part of this family. I slip through everyone as chaos erupts, confusion filling the room. "I need a drink" I mutter, wandering into the kitchen. I bump into someone and I feel a blush color my cheeks as I look up. "I am so sorry" I mutter, slipping past them.

I never thought, when I was younger, that I was not a part of this family but tonight that point is made very clear as I am seated away from the rest of the Birches, feeling isolated as I eat, all of them focused on the newcomer, Vinnie, his name has been whispered around the table we all now sit at. I pick at the food on my plate, not having much of an appetite, as I try to tune everyone else out. That is when I get a good look at the people around me. Sitting to my right is a Blackmore while to my left is a Birch who is doing their best not to make eye contact with me. I turn away from them and try to gather up some courage to talk to someone for once. "Do you know who that is and why he's here?" I ask, not knowing if I'll get an answer. If they're anything like my own 'family' then most likely, they won't but a part of me can't help but hope that they aren't.

OOC: Is this thread still going and is it alright that I just kind of jumped in?
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