Public PTS

[Tom]

[presto] D4 | 18 | male | Josh Beech "What a shame we all became such fragile, broken things." [/presto] [presto] Somewhere weakness is our strength, And I'll die searching for it. I can't let myself regret such selfishness. My pain and all the trouble caused [/presto]

[presto] Does (856363) Thinks (CDC9C9) Says (8B3A3A) Hears(EEB4B4) "Jay! Jay! Jay! Lets go do career training! Please. Please." The morning was one of the worst for Jay. It was almost time to fight for his life. HE was on the edge. Memories of preparing for the day of his personal training to show how great he was at what he did. "Jay! Look what I can do with a spear!" Jay's mind was not in the zone, but he needed it to. He had been waiting for this moment. For the moment to break out and prove that him and Mason are different in fighting styles. He needed to prove that he wasn't like Mason and could do better, so he can get a better score. Somebody walked out in front of the doors and spoke, Jay Krearns! You're up!" Jay's hands felt tense as things jumbled through his mind. He had to do this. He had to beat Mason, even if it was by one. He had to beat a five. Six or higher was his goal. Jay! Jay! You can beat this guy, you may be smaller, but you can kick his ass." Jay moved towards the doors and walked inside the training center. This was his moment. This was the time to shine. The fog of the ocean was beginning to vanish back into the air until the next day. Two boys were sparring on the beach with some wooden sticks and wooden spears. The older one was blocking a wooden sword easily with every motion. The younger boy tried to strike, but as soon as he did, it was blocked, except for the last one. It was dodged and the smaller boy was knocked off balance and into the sand. The boy complained to the older one, "Mason! Why can't I beat you?" Mason would just laugh at the younger boy. He would laugh and laugh, until the younger boy was about in tears. Then he would stop and smirk. He'd say, "It's because you are not big enough, fast enough, or strong enough. Maybe when you're older you can beat me?" Jay would just pout, until Mason took him surfing for the day. Jay after surfing made the ultimate decision to practice and train to beat his brother. He wanted to prove that he wasn't to be messed with. A few years went by and Jay passed Mason in one of the three things he told him to. Jay was faster than him. As Mason began to bulk up and turn into bigger muscles, Jay stuck with the toning and keeping more of a speedy build than a strong build. Mason and him were almost two different people. Jay was toned, but not as big as Mason. Jay had more of a brain than Mason. The two began to grow apart, even more than what they were. Mason was the popular, cool, strong, and nice guy, while Jay was the unpopular, weird, fast, mean guy. The two were different. They were different. Jay was different, that's why he had to prove that he was different than Mason. The training center was just as it was when he first had came in, except it was empty, except for the gamemakers watching him. Jay was quick in step. He wanted to get this over with. He wanted to be back home or dead right about now. He wanted the first one rather than the latter. Jay's instinct moved towards the weaponry. He was looking for certain things. Spears were a no for him, too many bad memories with those. Axes, he could use those, but that wasn't his specialty. His specialty was with a broadsword. Jay picked up the broadsword. The hilt in his grasp feeling wonderful. His mind was ready to go. You are bigger. You are stronger. You are faster. I can do this. I can fight. Jay moved towards a group of dummies. He takes a deep breathe and a few words escapes his lips, "Let's do this." Jay lunges into the middle of the group of five dummies. He's quick on his feet. He slashes at one of the arms, cleanly taking it off. A swish and a turn around, he's slashed at a dummy's chest. Another swish and a turn towards a different one, he's his it's head with a gash right along the face. Another quick movement of the feet and limbs begin flying everywhere. By the end of the three dummies around him, there were 6 arms, 3 legs, 2 heads, and gashes all along the dummies bodies and heads. Jay felt his blood boiling. Memories of fighting against Mason and never winning, the memories of Mason dying, the happy life that Jay imagines Peridot Myler living. Jay lunges at another dummy, cleanly taking it's head off. Again and again, taking more limbs and heads off of other dummies, until the group of five dummies were nothing but gashes and limbs on the floor. His anger was coming through now. He was warmed up for the rest. "Jay, take this hatchet and learn how to do it. I need you to go chop wood." Jay's next idea popped up. He wanted moving targets and got a brilliant idea in a matter of seconds. It'd only take him a bit. Jay ran towards some rope from trapping and began tying the dummies' feet. He tied up three of them and tied the unused end after pulling the dummies so they are high in the air. He ties the rope and smirks. He grabs 6 axes to throw. One for the rope, one for the dummy. Jay gets another idea as he thinks. He runs for the tar and quickly puts it on his axes. He pulls a match from the fire making station and lights the axes on fire. Jay grabs two of the axes and throws one at the rope. The rope snaps and the dummy falls. Jay quickly aims and throws. A hit to the heart, the dummy begins to catch on fire and Jay just laughs at it. Jay quickly grabs another two axes and does the same thing, except a hit to the head instead, the dummy lands on the other's ashes and quickly catches fire. Jay does it again and hits the head again and eventually it all burns to ash. Jay turns around to the gamemakers and smirks. Mason would be proud of him. Jay used a bit of his wit and skill to his advantage. Jay keeps his smirk and speaks. "Jay Krearns, District 4 Male. Hope you enjoyed the show." On Jay's way out, he grabs a ax and tosses it behind him, it lands in the middle of the ash like he planned for it to and calmly leaves the training center. Jay's smirk still apparent on his face as he escapes the room that will determine how great he will be or not. Though, he'll prove them wrong if he gets a low score. This was just the beginning for him. This was just the beginning. [/presto]

[Deleted]

 

fionnbharr stoddard.

For the first time in forever, Finn felt anxiety's cold touch shudder his spine that morning. Not even when he stepped upon the stage in his oversized overused overalls and hole-filled boots did he feel as much as the last breath of a warrior - the release. It was surreal at first, the pit of his stomach feeling feel away and his fingers numb with what felt like a shift in his body; Finn felt as if he himself his soul was shifted further back. Probably into his stump of a neck. That morning Finn was nervous out of his mind, as he would recall to Cha later in his usual exaggeration, since through the entire motion he was depicting and highlighting his own life in a storybook for later.

As soon as he sat in his district 8 male chair where he was escorted to directly, he began mapping out exactly what he would say at a later date to Cha, or Stella, or Barnabas, or Asa, or Pearl. Perhaps, maybe Leon too. But during the weight of the air and the wait of his family performing one room away to the judges who held their life like a paper crane in a twelve year old's hands, during that wait Finn sat in his district 8 male in the boring clothes Barnabas and he painted not even a week prior, mapping out the end of his life.

Finn wanted to laugh. Between the sheer pressure of the room filled with people he actually liked, loved and the fact that he was writing his own life from the strands in his brain, that he was memorizing the exact way one light flickered near the entrance of the hall way or how Cha remained silent like everybody else and for once so did he, just to retell it later when he could tell it now - between both, he wanted to laugh. He needed to laugh, he was busting at the seams of his stomach with the need to laugh until his throat hurt and the absence of his gut wouldn't be noticeable anymore.

And by the time Cha entered the room, Finn wanted to cry.

He watched Pearl enter first, then Asa after two others, then Zelphyr, who he remembered but never talked to and feared it was far too late to now, then Blaire Sycamore, who he wanted to hear all about his family but never was rewarded the chance, and then Barnabas. Until Cha left him with an empty chair, and the only person Finn had left was Stella in the hallway. He hated the feeling, he wanted to scream just for something to happen other then silence, so the lump in his throat and the ghost of his body wouldn't seem so bad. For in that period of time, he left himself studying his own skin, praying that he would be fine, that he would survive another day.

For in that moment when Cha came out bloodier than usual, Finn was scared. He was so scared as he sat there, with the capitol men carrying her off all dressed in black like she had already died. Cha Leviane, Finn knew Cha, he felt her in that pit of his chest he judged his life by so harshly, and she had fallen before the games ever began. All the questions he'd asked her would never be answered with the gap in her mouth and the gap in his chest, but all in all was it so different?

Fionnbharr Stoddard, for the first time in weeks alone, was terrified as he stood up to take his place once more (he was getting so tired with the whole stepping up thing, he was getting so tired of the silence) as he was scared to meet his makers.

As he entered the room he took note of everything he would tell Cha; he'd tell her of how the air felt almost too thick to breath. He'd tell her of how the floor was a mix-match of blue and red and he felt close to vomiting as it looked as if Satan himself released himself into the room and took the form behind those glasses. He'd tell her how scared he was to be in the same room as the ones who kept her from walking out the room by herself. He'd tell her of how he did nothing for a solid few minutes but stare at the scene before taking his place in the paint, unlacing his shoes until he slipped them off and dripped his socks into the paint.

He'd tell her how, for a whole minute, he did nothing but tie and untie his shoes, "13 times," and then stared at the window for a second minute, both scared for himself and his twenty-three siblings. For he was scared for their safety as much as he was for his. Before running from the room.


[i'll edit in reaction when i get one mhm]