reddening snow >> the uprising

[semper]

Snow falls heavily outside of the main ruin building that serves as our main gathering area. In the middle of the room is a fire in a dug-out hole surrounded by a circle of rubble to keep the flames contained further. Not that it would’ve jumped out and burned anything down, considering the floor of the ruin is just dirt and any vegetation inside has been uprooted and used to feed the flames. Some of those sticks, however, had found their way into Colton’s hands, and the four year old sitting next to me is quietly content with creating shapes and digging holes next to the fire, making murmuring sounds and using a collection of dead leaves as both flags and trap doors. There are far fewer people who came back to the Uprising this time as opposed to last winter. Our numbers are dwindling, probably due to the fact that I couldn’t find Griffin to track down older members or verbally communicate to newer ones. Since he wasn’t with me, I had a lot of trouble sneaking into districts with Colton in order to convince residents to join our cause. Communicating with potential rebels proved horribly difficult and no one listens to Avoxes anyway; honestly, I wouldn’t put it past anyone to have turned my offer down solely because of my looks and status: a mute servant, borderline emaciated, three fingers on my left hand, missing right hand with a bent piece of scrap metal strapped to my forearm to act as a makeshift hand. I’ve never been appealing to look at and my current image isn’t any better, obviously. At least Colton isn’t frightened by my appearance. The poor boy has been through so much in his short years of life. Travelling the wilderness with him has proven enjoyable, more often than not, and he’s quickly catching onto my methods of communication and even using the dog-like sounds to respond to me. His favorite activity has consistently been to put leaves and flowers in my hair, followed by a quick joust with sticks that always ends with me pretending to die dramatically. Since we’ve lived in the woods for so long, I was worried about bringing him along to meet potential recruits for the Uprising. Fortunately he did very well, showing an innocent curiosity and watching the other people with eyes that always remind me of his mother. (Oh, Lily, if only you could see our son now. I should’ve let your grandfather keep him.) He doesn’t deserve to be stuck in the ruins of Thirteen with a band of mismatched rebels. Hell, the kid doesn’t even know how to introduce himself, let alone say his name. I’ve beaten myself up many times over that small fact and many more, most having to do with me, an Avox, being his father and primary caretaker. I’ve not been purposefully neglecting his need for someone to teach him to speak—I tried to find Jack in Ten to see if he could teach Colton but he wasn’t there. Not even his mother was present. Honestly, they’re the only ones I wholly trust with my boy, and I would’ve been thankful if Jack could’ve taken care of him. The guy had twins already and I would’ve felt pretty bad for dumping an illiterate four year old at his house but then Colton would’ve had a home, food, proper education, and I would’ve been at ease knowing who was taking care of him. The kid turns to look up at me, holding out a stick with a leaf stabbed onto the end. There’s a large smile on his face but the firelight still magnifies the hollowness in his cheeks, like little ghostly reminders of the dire situation we’re in. A coo-like sound comes from him and he lifts the stick higher, eyes locked onto me expectantly. Breaking from the strain of draining thoughts, I give him a small smile of my own and lightly touch the leaf with my fingertip and nod to show him my approval; he giggles, suddenly excited, and turns back to poke the stick into the dirt, just next to a small pile of crushed up leaves. He needs better than this. I always give more of our food rations to him so that he gets a solid start at life and the constant emptiness in my belly leaves me feeling weak constantly, more so than the usual stress of simply trying to survive. All of it needs to change—everyone needs to be able to have the means to care for themselves and their children. I shouldn’t have to worry myself sick over scavenging enough food just to keep Colton’s small stomach from rumbling and keeping him awake at night. No one should face that, and I know the people that followed me here share the same thought. We deserve as much as the Capitol, no questions asked. My gaze returns to the heavy snowfall outside. It’s much too cold for us to take any sort of action right now, but we can still plan. First, however, it’s more important that we all get to know each other so we can start to develop the ever-so vital trust needed to execute missions properly. I reach over and pull up my backpack from the ground, scrounging through the pockets until I find a small notebook and short pencil. The tip is worn down but it’s exposed just enough to write. Could you round everyone up into the main room and ask them to be ready to introduce themselves to the others? Their name, age, specialties, etc. Whatever they want to say. After stowing the pencil away in a jacket pocket, I nudge Colton’s shoulder to get his attention and then point to the ground, which is our signal to stay put. He nods and continues to play with the sticks while I stand up and immediately begin to search for Aiden in order to deliver my message.

table by anzie <33


[[Just a quick note: there is no posting order, but I just ask that you allow Anzie to post second ^^ ]]

[анзие (Anz)]

[googlefont="Carrois Gothic SC:400"]Aiden Pierce

The camp is in the middle of nowhere, but this is an adventure worth having - if only for the simple fact that Irvine is here, and Irvine seems happy. Sitting atop a sturdy - if filthy-looking - log, Aiden watches the other boy out of the corner of his eye, even as he scuffs the hard winter ground with a fragile stick.

For what it's worth, Aiden's glad he broke Irvine out of that hell. Nobody - nobody, and this shocks him more than anything else - appreciated Irvine for his individuality, his differences, even as fashion statements scrawl in large, bold letters: Be yourself! Find yourself in our latest line of mockingjay feather dresses!

It bothers him just how hypocritical all of this is. It bothers him still, that people claimed to live up to that ideal but tore others down in the process.

Fuck them.

They're out of that, now. And Irvine is safe.

A tap on his shoulder startles him, and Aiden tears his gaze from Irvine to look up at the speechless man with the little boy. Dev, or Devroux, or something - he'd written his name on a piece of paper and Aiden can barely remember the scrap and what was written upon it. At the very least, he thinks that the man's name starts with a D.

Dev holds out another scrap, and Aiden warily plucks it out of his grasp. "Thanks?" The man nods and gestures for him to read it; Aiden's gaze drops to the paper. What is this?

Could you round everyone up into the main room and ask them to be ready to introduce themselves to the others? Their name, age, specialties, etc. Whatever they want to say.

Whatever they want to say, huh? Some of these stories might take a really long time... Aiden's lips quirk, but he gives Dev a little nod. "Sure," he says warily. How on earth was he supposed to gather a ragtag group like this? I could just... shout that them.

Irvine might be scared.

"Excuse me," he calls, shooting Irvine a glance of concern. "Hey, over here!" A sorry excuse of a call for attention, but it sort of works - maybe. The camp grows quiet, and all eyes are on him. Aiden refuses to blush. "So, um, Dev?" a quick glance at the man ensures that he's not making a mistake, "here wants us to introduce ourselves... so I'll just go first. I'm Aiden, I'm sixteen years old."

For a boy who delights in others listening to him, Aiden finds words so hard to grasp now, when all eyes on him. He swallows and feels his throat dry up. Damn it. "Um. I'm from the Capitol. I ran away because..." Because Irvine. "Because they weren't living up to their beliefs." A small shrug, then Aiden drops his gaze. "I don't really know what else to say; I can be whoever you want me to be, at any point in time, but I'm not really a leader. But," he says, with a strike of inspiration, "If you ever tried to make Irvine do anything he doesn't want to do-"

The threat hangs empty, but he's got force behind his words.

Yeah.

That wasn't too bad at all.

ooc: Um. That sucked.

[grim.]

Tamara Shaw

  

                                                

      The crunch of freshly fallen snow sounds from underneath the weight of my heavy boots. I follow in a pack, unsure were to turn. I feel the blood rush to my face, specifically my cheeks. I could hardly feel them, the cold of nipping at my fragile skin. My complexion blotched with patches of a peachy tone. It wouldn't be as noticeable if I wasn't so pale. I pull a strand of gold out from my vision. It was making it hard to watch the feet of the man in front of me. I followed with great caution, for I wasn't use to being anywhere other than the walls of District Ten. We arrive at a small ruin. It looks to be the ruins of District Thirteen. I have been told that they have survived, but it was merely rumors. Perhaps the rumors had carried a bit of truth?

    What were mother and father thinking?

    I had never done anything like this before. I was very good at "obeying". Though obeying wasn't worth shit. It hadn't gotten me anywhere before and it wasn't going to any time soon. I was sick of listening to the crap other people threw at me. This was were I was going to become strong. This was were I was going to show those Capitol low lives what some of us district were made of.

    I was going to show them that I am more then shit under their boot.

    I hadn't noticed the changes in my expression during this blur of thought. I had hardly noticed that we had fully arrived and had been waiting on our "leader" to give us further instruction. He seemed like a nice enough man, though he was mute. I would just have to learn how to read his expressions. Speech isn't the only mean of communication. While we wait I find a spot to lean against a tree. I spent a few minutes scoping out the other so called "rebels". This word spirals through my mind.

    Had I really become a rebel?

    My face fills with excitement, I liked my new title. it made me feel more superior then being known as the farmers daughter. Although there were many girl back in District Ten with that title. I notice a boy about my age, watching another boy. He seemed out of place, perhaps he was a runaway from the Capitol. He didn't quiet seem to know how to deal with people of the districts. Finally The mute man comes out with a piece of paper clutched in his fingers. I notice him handing it to this boy that I had been evaluating. I watch and wait.

    "Excuse me" the boy shouts. I stand up from the trunk of the tree and fold my arms, and watch with open ears.

"Hey, over here!" he shouts again. I watched as some of the others finally come to attention. "So, um, Dev?" he says with unsureness. "here wants us to introduce ourselves... so I'll just go first. I'm Aiden, I'm sixteen years old."
The way he spoke was so choppy and timid, I was becoming intent with trying to understand his discomfort. "Um. I'm from the Capitol. I ran away because...because they weren't living up to their beliefs." he says. I knew he had to have been a run away, a quick smirk takes over my face.

    "I don't really know what else to say; I can be whoever you want me to be, at any point in time, but I'm not really a leader. But, If you ever tried to make Irvine do anything he doesn't want to do-" His voice became very solid for a moment, he cared deeply for that boy, I admired that. I nod and look around at the group of people once more.

    Why was this silence taking over?

    I decide to break the brief span of silence that had broke over the group of people. We all were here for the same or similar reasons. And although I wasn't much for speaking out into a group, I found myself wanting to thrive here. I was determined to be known as more then a timid little farm girl. "Hello, I am Tamara Shaw. You can call me Tam, if you like." I stop and take a quick breath and ease my nerves. "I am from District Ten, and I am 16. Before recently I hadn't thought much about ever leaving. I am here to become more, and make more out of the world we are in today." I push my voice with more force for this next sentence. "It is not okay, what the Capitol is doing to us. Using us, murdering our loved ones. I want to make a difference, I hope many of you are here to do the same."

    Who was this new me?

    I feel a rush of crisp air rush from between my lips. I had said what I had needed to say, and I was relieved. I hope my tough girl act had held up. I wasn't use to this new found confidence. I return my attention to the people around me. And I wait for the next brave soul.

                                                                                                                               

[d9 kristof parks {ems}]

Darius Faux

White stuff fell freely from the sky covering the ground, and an eerie chill filled the air. It wasn't an easy decision leaving Liam and Yasmin with my cousin, Reyes, but taking them with me wasn't worth the risk of being caught. They're so young, and having them thrown into the depths of the Capitol before they can make decisions for themselves isn't something I'm capable of doing. While the journey through here is my decision, I know the consequences if I'm caught. The risk runs huge, but I can't stop here. It wasn't the first time my feet have stepped across the fence into the forbidden forest owned by the Capitol. It feels lonelier this time, though. Many didn't show back up. Personally, it's hard not to blame them. Winters are harsh. Especially if the ways of life isn't known. It wouldn't surprise me if those cocky teenagers from the higher up districts just remained trapped in their homes with heat while everyone else freeze and starve to death.

The ruins of District Thirteen remain the same every time I see them. Gathering with a group of misfit civilians yearning for revenge on the Capitol makes my life seem quite at ease only I'm not wanting to get revenge. This runs more personal. Truth be told, it's tiring living under the laws where people tell me what to do every single day of my life, and all the lies flying through the air cut much deeper than any sickle would do. My mother promised me she would return after a few days, but she never did. She promised me my uncle would take good care of me, but he didn't. My uncle promised my mother he wouldn't let anything happen to me, yet everything happened to me. The Capitol promised they love us. Do they love us? No. Sending innocent children into the game every single year so they can die for their laughs isn't love. It's disgusting, and no longer will I have anything to do with it.

That is why I'm here.

For my own freedom.

A fire lurks in the middle of the room doing little to keep it warm, but it's more than anything I've experienced all my life other than the brutal heat of the summer. I try rubbing my hands together to keep them warm while my eyes shift around the group bouncing from person to person before resting on Dev. He's a guy I feel bad for, but I don't show pity. Nobody wants pity from someone who can't do anything about it. And then a guy speaks. I don't care who he is or what he's doing here. None of that matters because in the end the Capitol squishes the bugs under their firm boots. Every last one of us standing here have a chance of being that bug, and why would someone run away from Capitol? Don't they have everything they could want? Everything they need? Food, shelter, no fear of the hunger games? Look at Dev. Look at what the Capitol did to him, and here this guy is. From the Capitol.

I would spit on his shoes if I could.

And then some girl speaks about wanting to make a difference. Why else would anyone be here? Why else would they want to rule the nation created for fools? My eyes roll into the back of my head for a moment as a loud sigh escapes my lips. It's boring here listening, but it has to be done like last time. Like knowing names would save someone in a battle. Just look at the Hunger Games. People know names, and people die. It's just a part of life. Life is just a huge circle. Living and dying. It's all we know. Even animals die. The moment I was born was the moment my time of death was written in the eternal book. Maybe this is how I'll die. Fighting for my freedom. It's a nice thought, yet the twins are back home, and I can't leave them. Not yet because they need me, and I need them more than anyone could ever imagine. Finally the girl shuts up, and my eyes shift across the small group of people one last time as silence fills the frigid air.

When nobody speaks, I take it on myself to speak. Nothing long, but something short and sweet.

"I'm Darius. I'm eighteen. I'm from eleven. I'm here because I'm sick and tired of the lies being fed. I hate liars. That's all you need to know."

And once again the world falls into silence.

[ghosty]

[googlefont="Aguafina Script:400;"]Shula Bodaway it's the red, orange, yellow flicker beat

What am I doing? That's the only question, the only one whistling around in my head. Not about my family, or, for once, when will I next see fire? Well, I already know that answer. When I arrive. And this time not literal. And I leave the relative safety of the district that I know, the one I grew up in, the one I love. But no one is safe, are they? 23 children will die, and one will be tormented for life, once a year. Every year. The gentle forest wind, pushing me towards my goal. To the ruined city. District 13. It must be no more than ruins, crumbled to a brick or a stone, or even less than that. And ruins I see before me, the familiar crackle POP! of a fire. I approach carefully and I see people around a fire. A camp. The giant flame, coaxed to as large as is safe. I notice only that, and a girl, the same age as me, finishes her speech, and a boy speaks also. I step into the basking light and heat of the fire, and the deadly silence of the relative clearing in the forest. And the silence pressure's my mouth open.. "The name's Shula. I heard you need some help. I'm from 5." I would say more, but I don't want to sound to gobby. That's Dad's favourite word, gobby. I stand right near the fire, my home, and I, along with everyone else, started waiting for others to arrive.

oh god that is rubbish

[goat]

[presto][/presto]

I'm sorry, mother. Really, I am.

I wanted to tell her. I did! But I didn't. Couldn't, I mean. I'd be reported the minute I opened my mouth. I didn't tell a maid I was leaving either. I could've easily lied. I didn't. I just packed a bag and slipped out into the night.

Paranoia sets in the moment your feet meet the pavement. Every person who strolls past is a spy, waiting for you to slip up so they can snitch. Every Peacekeeper van that speeds on the road next to you is going to pull over and drag you inside. Every breath is shaky, every eye movement is quick. I guess I wasn't sure what to expect. I'd snuck out into the streets countless times, but my destination had never been out of the District.

I made it. I made it past the border undetected. As soon as I was out, I burst into silent tears. This was scary. I was scared. I'd never felt fear in a long time, but this was it. Fear itself, creeping down my throat and into my lungs. I ran.

I knew where to go, but I hadn't found any other people who were going to the same place. I hadn't expected to, honestly. This forest is vast. Compared to here, District 2 must just be a speck of dust. Maybe. Or maybe it was just the fear making everything seem bigger than it actually was.

The place was hidden, but also sort of hard to miss. Well, let me clarify. It was hard to miss the ragtag group of people all huddled together. In the center of the group, a fire crackled. I wasted no time in collapsing by the flames and throwing my hands out. It rages bright orange sparks that lick at my fingers. I welcome the warmth. Trekking in this frosted forest has nearly chilled my bones in place.

Somebody speaks. He wants us to introduce ourselves. A girl goes, and then a boy, then another girl, and then it goes silent. We're all waiting for each other to go next. I may as well take the opportunity. I clear my throat, but don't bother moving from my spot beside the fire.

"Hi. I'm Miette. 16. District 2. I came here to finish what my mother's boyfriend started."

[Arrows]

Cadmus Blair

    Snow fell from the clouded skies above. With every step he took Cadmus felt more and more free. Whispers of a band of so called rebels had reached his ear back in District Six. When he had heard they were convening he made no hesitation to arrive to their little gathering. However, he had to admit he had never made such a dangerous journey.

    Through forests and over great mountains he had traveled. Seeing many distant lights of districts he had never truly seen. Many a times he longed to visit them and see if they were anything like his old one. Yet he never dared to. His purpose was as clear as the frozen lake he passed by several days earlier.

    Even now he was surrounded by high sky scraper trees drenched in the white blankets of snow. His breath wafted into the air and vanished after several seconds. Luckily he had anticipated a cold journey and hence forth prepared for it. However, his supplies had been dwindling ever since day one. He no longer had any meat strips but just two canisters of soup. He of course had some extra clothing and most importantly his own sword harnessed tightly to his left hip.

    Cadmus' breaths began increasing as he hiked over yet another hill. Normally the task would be easy but with the snow threatening to send him sliding back down he had to be extra careful. Yet once he finally managed to reach the hill's apex his heart swelled. It appeared that his journey had finally come to its destination. Standing before him as a hollowed and grim civilization was the ruins of District Thirteen. Snow had covered the entire area in a constantly growing blanket so he wasted no time looking for the others. Part of him even wondered if they were real, but he supposed now he would find out.

    Snow crunched under his boots as he checked each building and crevice for life. He began to grow a little worried as the options for shelter grew smaller and smaller. He bit his lower lip as his eyes scanned through the snowy landscape. Finally he let his breath out when he entered the main square. He could see the flickering of a small fire through one of its small broken windows.

    Quietly he entered the building and joined the small circle of people. He stay towards the back of the room observing. One by one people were introducing themselves and he hardly paid attention until he noticed it had grown silent. Apparently everyone else had gone so he slightly cleared his throat as he stepped forward. His eyes swept through the small group before he said monotonously.

    "My name is Cadmus Blair to anyone who really cares to know. I use to be from District Six. My Father is a well trained serial killer who forced my sisters, my brother, and me to train to become killers as well. I was always the prodigy of the family however I hated the fact that he forced my siblings to train when they hated it. So one day my brother and I rebelled against our Father. The details I refuse to share anymore. Needless to say I chose to come here since I would rather shed the blood of others like I was trained to do to make change. Not in some ridiculous Capitol Hunger Games."

    Leaving his final words still ringing Cadmus stepped back into the shadowy corner of the room just where the fire's light couldn't reach him. 

Blood will always be shed,
It's currents will always run heavy,
however they should run for the power of change,
Not for some ridiculous Capitol Hunger Games