This means war | {Kire}

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Ever since arriving at the Capitol, I've been herded around like a fucking animal. The Capitol doesn't even give a shit that I'm a human being. The moment my name was called I was given the title of animal. Someone nobody fucking cares about. That's every day life though. Nobody fucking cares about me, but that's fine. I don't need anyone. Standing around people isn't something I'd ask. And now, I'm forced to watch them, eat with them, and even sleep in the same godforsaken building as them. What the fuck is this? And right now, I'm standing here in the gym where all the training is done. Weapons fly through the air slicing through things like it's easy. Like they've held a weapon their entire fucking life. Oh wait, they have. Don't worry. We'll get them. We'll kill them. We'll eat them alive.

The world has been in a daze since arriving here. It's like I'm fighting to keep control of my own body. It feels like someone inside me is trying to take the strings and move me around how they want me to move, and I'm fighting them. Each breath comes from deep inside, and my voice. I've noticed how it's changing. Going from an old person's voice to one that's laced with an icy chill. One that could cut cleanly through a slice of cheese. My muscles have been twitching around fighting against me. It's taking every ounce of strength inside to not fall over. To not collapse along the lines of the horrible creation standing before me. And I swear when I looked a mirror it wasn't my face staring back at me.

I move through the gym slowly while scanning the area looking for a place I can be alone. A place I can dissect a stupid dummy. A place where blood can flow across my body. It's only fake, but in a matter of days it'll be real blood. It'll be the blood of people standing before me now. Unless, I could get the blood flowing now. A huge grin plasters itself against my face spreading quickly from ear to ear.

My feet move before my body can do anything about it, and I'm running towards the weapon rack with my eyes fixed on a huge fucking axe. Blood rushes through my body ringing through my ears as the drum hammers rapidly under my chest. The moment it's within grasps, I wrap my hand around the handle before running one finger across the metal blade. Blood drips from my finger onto the blade. Oh how I want to bathe in the blood. Oh how I want it to cover me. To stain my body crimson, but for now it won't do. I need more. More.

More.

More.

Just once isn't enough. My eyes stare at the blood as it smoothly runs down the blade, and I hold my tongue under it long enough for it to drop into my mouth. The taste of metallic laces across my inside. It's bitter, yet at the same time it's sweet. I turn around holding the axe ready for a fight. Ready to draw blood from someone else before the chance of a feast comes later. My eyes rest on a boy. A man. Whoever the fuck he is. Amusement sweeps across my body as the words carefully form on the tip of my tongue.

"Hey! Motherfucker! Come here so we can dance in your blood."

{table by zoë}

[Kire]

Marchello Donner

"I didn't care - I'd finally f o u g h t b a c k."

I have never dealt well with being challenged. It's not that I haven't been able to rise to a challenge and overcome it, it's that I hate feeling like someone thinks I'm not good enough to beat them - otherwise why would they challenge me. All my life I had been feeling like I hadn't been enough for people, and maybe that was why I was always so sensitive to challenges and to being called irresponsible. Hell, hadn't I showed them when I had taken care of everyone after Jan and Ary had gone?

This is why when that boy from Nine waves an axe at me and shouts, "Hey! Motherfucker! Come here so we can dance in your blood." I immediately wrap my fingers around the nearest weapon's hilt and stride over to him. In my hand in a knife and I have a flash of doubt in my mind seeing as his axe has a much longer reach. Still I keep moving closer, eyes narrowing. I stood just out of range of his axe, passing my knife between my hands, shoulders hunched. "My name's not motherfucker," my jaw is clenched so I can barely raise my voice above a normal speaking level, "and I wouldn't be so sure that it's my blood that's going to get spilt." Once more I pass the knife from hand to hand and back again.

This guy is crazy, I can see it, but aren't we all at this point? I had punched one of the largest guys in the face with little hesitation and I was still alive. Risk taking and impulse hadn't killed me yet. Besides, I knew that the Gamemakers would never let us kill each other before we were in the arena. There weren't enough cameras, and there most certainly wasn't enough torture. Then again, this guy in front of me might well supply enough torture.

The knife switches hands again, and once more. "I'm betting it'll actually be yours."

OOC Notes

[presto]

I'm down, but I'm not defeated.
A new life, starts today.

[/presto]

[googlefont="Nothing You Could Do:400"]

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Truthfully, I never expected the kid from six to move. To even come over towards me. Let alone grab a weapon. But his weapon isn't nearly as good as this axe resting gently in my hands. A large grin presses against my lips watching him. Someone thinks he's hot shit, and I will put him in his place. Showing him that acting is far worse than saying any words. His life needs a minor makeover, and I will apply the makeup. Whether it's red, or blue is beyond my wildest imagination now. We'll have to see. And for once I feel in charge. A sense of power rises inside my chest as he stops just out of range of the axe.

"My name's not motherfucker." I can't contain the laughter bursting through my lips upon hearing this. His voice echoes through my head over and over. Mocking me. Taunting me. You're worthless, Chaske! You're fucking worthless! My grip tightens around the axe as I hold onto it. Every muscle inside my body tightens up, and my jaw snaps shut in a few moments. My eyes narrow while taking in every piece of him. A predator never attacks before it's time, and a prey makes the first move. Everyone knows that. It's common knowledge of the world.

"Well, motherfucker," I begin before he rudely interrupts me. Talking about how it won't be his blood shedding that it will be mine. If only he knew how wrong he was. If only he knew what's going to happen. The blood inside him will cake against my body, and I will roll around staining the world below in crimson. The world will drink his blood, my blood, everyone's blood here like it has done many times before. I watch as he tosses the knife around like it's nothing, and my eyes turn towards my axe.

If he tries anything, I'll sever his head from his body right now. I don't fucking care what the gamemakers do to me. They'll kill me, but isn't that what they want to do anyway? To show the world that they are in charge? And that we are the pissants being stomped underneath them? I am sick and tired of them treating me like that. "Ok, motherfucker, I can't wait to drink from your body as the blood flows onto the ground. We're going to dance one way or another, and I promise you - it'll be your blood not mine."

Laughter fills the air as I stare at him.

"I don't think you have the balls to make my blood spill."

{table by zoë}

[Kire]

Marchello Donner

"I didn't care - I'd finally f o u g h t b a c k."

"Well, motherfucker," I had cut him off before he could form a whole reply and it seemed to irritate him, good. He's holding the axe in a good grip, and looks just about ready to use it too. Well good for him, because I was ready to use my knife too. I would have to somehow get past his axe, or keep him from swinging it around. If I wasn't careful I would lose something. Evidently, he knew that too. "Ok, motherfucker, I can't wait to drink from your body as the blood flows onto the ground." My lip curled in disgust - did he just say he would drink my blood - and I held the knife steady in my left hand. It was not my dominant hand, but I kind of would rather drive my fist into my face than slash deep with the knife.

"We're going to dance one way or another, and I promise you - it'll be your blood not mine." I wasn't so sure he was wrong, but I would do my damnedest to make sure that he bled whether or not I did. Now I just had to figure out how to get around that axe cleanly. He was laughing at me and that just made me more determined. I had to find the right spot to go in. There would be no sneaking around him, not when he had his eyes on me like this. "I don't think you have the balls to make my blood spill." My look of disgust shifted to a sneer and I glared at him. "Oh really? I don't have the balls?" I grabbed the front of my pants, as though checking. "I'm pretty sure I do."

I had to go now, I had to move. If I didn't we would size each other up too much and would get nowhere, or we would be stopped. I didn't want to be stopped anymore. I wanted him to see that he was wrong and that even with an axe he couldn't defend himself from me. My grip tightened on the knife and my other hand clenched into a fist. All I wanted to do was punch him right in the nose. It was definitely his blood that was going to hit the floor.

So I moved, closing the distance between us in a few quick steps. I paid no attention to his face and instead watch his chest. There, a movement, I shift to get around it. My knife comes up, aimed for his neck. He dodges sideways but I still land the blow. It's clumsy and shallow but it still bleeds as I step back away from him. There is little in the way of blood on my weapon but there is a small stain around the slash in his shirt and I'm smiling. That is, until there's a pain in my leg. It's hot like fire and cold like ice, but quick as mouse running down my body. "Fuck," I grunt. It's more my ego that is hurting at this point, but when I look down there is blood and I realize he really did manage to get me.

So I bring up my fist and catch him right in the nose.

OOC Notes

[presto]

I'm low low, low baby, I'm ready for a rest.
I've been beat down, bruised and injured
and I just ain't looking my best.

[/presto]

[googlefont="Nothing You Could Do:400"]

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Watching the anger radiate from his body completely changes my day. Small bursts of laughter fly past my lips, as I fight to keep myself calm. To keep myself standing here instead of cowering like a coward. He reaches his hand down like he was checking if he actually had balls. A large smile presses across my lips slowly spreading from ear to ear. All I can do is think about the joy of watching him. Excitement courses through my veins rapidly. My heart prances behind my chest walls, and for once i feel like I'm in charge. I'm not the little child father thinks I am. I'm not the coward Chance sees me as.

He's moving. Something on his mind, and I wasn't quick enough, yet I moved enough to avoid being stabbed in the neck. My hands swing the axe forward as the blade of his knife slices across my skin. I can feel the blood trickling. It's not much, but I move the axe forward with everything I have inside of me piercing through the delicate skin attached to the inside of his leg. A large smile spreads across my face as a single words escape from his lips. Today I have won. His blood pours much further than my own. His blood...

Pain erupts through my nose. Tears well up in the corner of my eyes threatening to fall down my face at any possible second. My eyes close for a moment. My entire body shakes as a loud deep laugh from somewhere inside bellows through the gym. My muscles convulse with every breath I take. The axe falls from my hand as I stare into the eyes of the idiot standing in front of me. Let me. Let me! My hands ball into fists as many words form on the tip of my tongue before falling down my throat. Blood pours from my nose falling down my face flowing over my mouth.

"You motherfucker! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" I'm yelling shouting. The room spins around me, and it takes everything I have to remain standing as a sense of vertigo sweeps through my body. "I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!" Spots flash before my eyes, and I can't do nothing. Flames dance in my soul consuming the life of my body. The world grows darker and darker as I fight to take on. Movements belong to someone esle, and they are not my own. A puppeteer snatches the strings from my hands forcing me to dance around.

It's getting darker, and I'm trying to hold on.

It's so dark.

Allow me.

And the world falls dark once and for all as a new being takes over.

It's all you.

Blood. The taste of blood flows through my mouth as I look around. My eyes flashing around before resting on a child with a bloody hand. Blood. It's red. Like the colors of rage. The colors of anger. I run my hand through my messy hair forcing it into every direction possible making myself look like a wild child. Wild. Blood. Tonight I have found my feast.

"Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. You best run away little boy because I'll skin you alive. I'll eat everyone of your fucking bones, and I will make a coat out of your skin. I'll gouge out your eyes with my fingers. I'll eat them, and I will allow the juices to run down my face, and your body won't ever be seen again." A voice laced with an icy chill falls from my lips.

Blood.

Wild.

A feast tonight.

Volcan feeds tonight.

{table by zoë}

[Kire]

Marchello Donner

"I didn't care - I'd finally f o u g h t b a c k."

My hand is a bit sore from the punch but it's nothing compared to the slow burning fire that is creeping up my leg. I see the blood running from the wound and my leg wobbles a bit from the strain so I shift most of my weight to my other side. There was no way I could let him see that I was weakened. It had been a blow for a blow, but I had gotten in a punch and so it was now technically his move. Of course, I would prefer to hold the upper hand in this but it seemed inevitable that we would come together again in an attack. More blood was all that was coming, surely.

I can see that he was momentarily stunned from the blow, and that the crack I heard had most assuredly been his nose breaking. Then I see his eyes close and hear him start to laugh again, deep in his chest and throat so that it was a booming sound. I was sure that other people would be staring at us but I never bothered to check, being too focused on the insane kid before me. He is almost having a fit with how hard his muscles are shaking and for a moment I worry that he may be having some sort of seizure when the axe clatters to the floor and his fists clench. He is staring into my eyes but I'm not fully sure that he is quite seeing me. The blood from his nose is already hitting the floor and the bright red trails it's leaving down his face and front makes him look like a ghoul or some terrible ghost.

Black haired, dark eyed, face gone pale from the blood running down his face in brilliant crimson shimmers, he was the textbook image of some tormented soul. Or maybe some demon. "You motherfucker! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" He's yelling at me, still not quite looking at me. "I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!" He looks like he's going to pass out, his eyes even less focused now, and I stay were I am. I don't take a step forward, though I would if I were going to see if he was okay, and I don't take a step back, even though his words are harsh and jar me. Holding firm and staying put is the best thing I can manage while I watch this guy fall apart in front of me. I didn't think I had hit him that hard, but then again I was never sure if he was right in the head to begin with.

He's about to fall over, I swear he is, when he pulls himself upright. There's something different about him now, something shifted or skewed. It's something in the way he's standing, or the dark, terrible clarity of his eyes. I don't know what to do so I stand ready for the assault. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. You best run away little boy because I'll skin you alive." It takes all I can muster to keep his eyes as he says this, and to keep from taking a step back. The malice in his voice is stronger than anything I had experienced before, and it made my drunken father sound like an angel. I had to stay firm, though. Letting him win was not part of this bargain. " I'll eat everyone of your fucking bones, and I will make a coat out of your skin."

Some little voice in back of my mind is saying that he is telling me he going to cannibalize me and I can only respond silently that I rather hoped he didn't. His words made my skin crawl and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. This wasn't right, both what he was saying and who he was. There was something terribly wrong here but I couldn't turn and run from it. It can't be any worse in the arena. It was the only comfort I ha for myself. If I could stand against him now, I should be able to stand against all that will happen in the arena.

"I'll gouge out your eyes with my fingers. I'll eat them, and I will allow the juices to run down my face, and your body won't ever be seen again." I tried to hold my back stiff but the sudden chill that his words had brought made me shudder. It felt like he had dug his nails into my back and was tugging on my spine so it might wrench free of my body and leave me paralyzed. I couldn't be paralyzed, though, I couldn't let him frighten me - though it was a little late for that hope.

I still had the knife in my hand and I felt its weight as a reminder that I was armed and he was now not. The axe lay on the floor between us, infinitely easier for him to grab than me but still needing a bit of time to snatch up. I had a good chance here. I had to take it. I couldn't be afraid of him. There was no way I could let him win. The knife was now in my right hand and I moved forward with all the speed I could manage. Up came my knife, then down. I was aiming for the eye and within a second he would only have half of his sight. Except he moved at the last moment, whether from arrogance or startlement I wasn't sure, and my knife sliced into his cheek instead.

I had nearly gotten my target, nearly half-blinded a boy I barely knew. My hands shook and I clenched them tighter to try and hide it. Was I any better that he was? At least I wasn't a cannibal. The blood on my knife was faint but the blood on his face grew brighter and now he looked as though he were crying crimson tears from one eye. Possessed, he had to be. He was a demon of some kind and I had just attacked him again. Sometimes I'm a fucking idiot.

OOC Notes

[presto]

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
Eyes burn with stinging sweat
Seems every path leads me to nowhere

[/presto]

[googlefont="Nothing You Could Do:400"]

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Blood dances down my face falling to the floor coating it. My weight shifts across my feet while I'm looking at him and looking around. I don't know who he is. My face feels hot. A fire lit beneath my skin. My mind. It races. It screams. And I scream with it. The deafening roars fill the air. And my heart dances with joy. With excitement. Blood sinks into my mouth coating my tongue, my teeth. The taste. Bitter. Metallic. Refreshing. My words hang on the tip of my tongue wrapping around him piece by piece. An aurora radiates behind him. Growing larger and larger. Something comes with it. He thinks he won.

Watch the way he moves. Swaying back and forth. Holding a knife. An axe sits on the ground in front of me. Blood coats the blade. The floor is crimson. Rage. Anger. Hatred. No words fall from him. He moves. He moves. And he moves. My eyes following him around turning the corners quickly. A sneak attack. A lion pouncing the rabbit. That's what he is. At least it's what I feel. My arms relax at my side. My teeth bare as my eyes take him in like a piece of meat. One for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A feast of many. Blood. It runs inside him. Flooding the ground below him like the blood running down my face floods my mouth. A flood. A river running freely. Never stopping.

His hands move. Holding the knife. It's coming. It's coming. Pain. Yes. But I move away. Watching his motion. Not caring it'll hurt because I can hurt him. Make him bleed. Blood. It's red. It's staining the ground before my eyes. And now it's running down my face. A tear painted red. One mixing with my own bodily functions. A laughter bellows from my lips. One of rage. Of agony. Of hatred. My eyes turn towards the axe. Why is such a pretty axe laying on the ground. Why? It can be used. Skinning him alive. Filleting him because his skin looks awesome. A coat.

I spit the blood on the ground staring at him. Ready to pounce. Ready to eat him alive. Ready to move, and I lunge forward in a quick motion snatching the axe up in the process. Pain. He hurt me. And for that, there's a price he must pay. My tongue slithers from my mouth forcing a runway for the blood. A large smile presses against my lips. My teeth bare as I stare at him. Foam rapidly forms in the corner of my mouth. And I don't move. Swinging my head around the blood flies from my face raining down on the gym. A shower of bloSod. A shower forming a masterpiece.

The axe rests against my shoulder. It's sleeping. Resting. Dying. Holding it is one thing. Using it is another. His knife. It's a must. Taking it away. Slicing the arm off his body. Challenging him. Winning. Throwing down a life. An innocent soul.

I'm laughing.

Shouting.

Screaming.

The words make no sense as they filter into the air. A coherent sentence forms. Finally. "Stupid! Ass! Motherfucker! You're head will look awfully good on a plate before my eyes. The blood will spew from the arteries and leak from the veins. I'll crush your brain matter into the ground. I'll smash it up and make ground beef." It's cold. A chill racing through my chest. My heart pounding inside.

My eyes land on the axe. Blood stains the blade. I want to taste it. I want to eat it. But no.

I'm swinging.

Swiping at him.

A coward.

A fighter.

The axe flies through the air.

Don't know or care if it hit.

This son of a bitch needs taught a lesson.

Volcan loves teaching lessons.

{table by zoë}

[Kire]

Marchello Donner

"I didn't care - I'd finally f o u g h t b a c k."

I watch him pick up the axe, expecting it now that I have struck him another blow. He is insane and I forgot that and attacked him. Of course he is going to fight back. This guy has no sense of morals or humanity, I can see it in his eyes. He is out to kill me now. Well, one of us will kill the other if this continues. How has no one come between us yet, have they just not noticed? For all I knew, we were standing in the middle of a betting circle with odds over which one of would get his throat slit first. If it had to come down to that, I would rather it be him than me. I planned to stick around to at least see Ellexias safe. My grip on the knife is weaker now, and my leg is trembling more than before. I'm exerting myself, but I can't show him that I'm tiring. I have to end this.

He's laughing again, screaming, gone completely insane. If I had any doubt that he was crazed, it was gone now. "Stupid! Ass! Motherfucker! You're head will look awfully good on a plate before my eyes." He had made sense before, but now he was devolving. Still, the picture he painted was gruesome and I couldn't think about it without the crawling sensation running up and down my back. I had to ignore what he said, I had to return in kind his meaning. "The blood will spew from the arteries and leak from the veins." He's not done yet, there's still more to shout and scream at me and I just have to weather it. I will turn the tables, but he won't hear me if he's still yelling. "I'll crush your brain matter into the ground. I'll smash it up and make ground beef."

His eyes are wild, looking everywhere. I'm waiting for the attack I know will come and I react as soon as he starts moving. I move out of the way as his axe comes down, but not fast enough. My arm burns, not like my leg had but still enough that I know I'm bleeding again, and we are standing apart once more. "You call that a cut?" Pain isn't stopping him, and intimidation is a joke, words are really all that's left to me. Everything he had said came back to me and I realized I had to be a whole different kind of horrible. "I haven't seen or heard anything from that would scare anyone." I waved my knife. "I don't need this to take care of you." I'm trying to not let myself dip to that low but it keeps calling and I feel like I have to respond. "It's fucking pathetic. Chop my head off and serve it on a platter? Good luck with that."

I try to console myself with the fact that he has threatened me with death and cannibalism since he had called to me. He is horrible, and as such I must be horrible in return. This is the way of Games, and I had to step up or die. "You're fucking worthless with that axe. Completely useless. If I had known I would meet people as weak as you I would skipped training for the next week. You want to prove yourself to me? I doubt you can. Clearly you're just a waste of my time." I force myself to grin, like I'm really enjoying this. It's one thing for me to slice him up with a knife, another thing to do it with my words. Weapons were more honest, name calling was not.

"I mean c'mon man, give me a fucking break. 'I'm gonna eat your flesh.' Yeah, okay. What else, you gonna go cry to your mommy tonight too? The tough guy act only works if you're actually tough." I've fallen into anger's trap and now my mouth is running, a traitor to how I want to be. "Grow up. Fucking brat."

I want to pretend that I am not being an asshole, or at least that this kid deserves it, but I can't tell myself that when I know better. My father had beaten me because of excuses, and I was doing the same thing to this guy with words. Still, I can't let him beat me. As I look into his face I can only see the blood, it's covering almost the entire lower half of his face and he looks deathly pale. I did that to him. I was the one to wield the knife and the words. We were both terrible.

What have I done?

OOC Notes

[presto]

Wife and kids household pet
Army green was no safe bet
The bullets scream to me from somewhere

[/presto]

[googlefont="Nothing You Could Do:400"]

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

"You call that a cut?" His voice harsh. Words bounce through my skull. A flame grows larger and larger inside me. Consuming my body. Taking over. It's hot. And there's blood. Oh the blood. Blood of my own. Blood belonging to him. It's amazing, and here I stand listening. He's talking. Screaming. Taunting. Pa did that. Every fucking day. Day after day. He scream. Lied. Tortured. Some stupid scumbag like this fool won't do anything. He's all talk. Every bit of it. And I'm here. Stronger. Braver. Better.My eyes grow wider as the heat rises inside my chest.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Pressure builds behind my eyes. It's throbbing. Like my heart pounding behind my chest. Blood pools inside my mouth. And I love it. It taste good. Amazing. Awesome. My nostrils flare as he stands there like he's better. Nobody is stronger. Not those fools standing here. And I don't know why he thinks he can. Blood stains my face threatening my vision. Blood. I love it. Makes a person strong. Except he's a fucking moron.

I've got him.

An idiot.

An enemy.

"Fucking piece of shit. Stupid. Arrogant. Son of a bitch. Death will seek you. Devour you. Your blood will be mine."

A few words. Meaningless words. Nobody fucking cares. Shit. It happens. Son of a bitch. Fool. I throw the axe towards the ground. Stomping. Storming away.

Away.

Away.

But a snake strikes from behind. A rabid animal. A foolish one. Stupid.

"You're fucking worthless with that axe. Completely useless. If I had known I would meet people as weak as you I would skipped training for the next week. You want to prove yourself to me? I doubt you can. Clearly you're just a waste of my time."

Worthless.

Completely useless.

Weak.

He stands before me. Screaming at me. Holding my life in his hands. My eyes widen as I'm backing away. Cowering in fear. He's there. Pa. He's mad. Yelling at me. I've messed up. Ruined his life. Done something wrong. The words bounce through my head. My chin drops to the floor as I fight begging for a chance. The words. A name. It's not my own name. It's not mine. I turn trying to hide my face. Trying to stand away from him.

Foolish.

Arrogant.

Fucker.

Idiot.

My head turns towards the floor. My muscles. They move. Twitch. I don't control them. My stomach aches inside. It's tearing me apart. More words. More evil words. I'm back away. Moving further away. Towards a corner. He's coming after me. Standing above me. My hands fly up trying to shield my face from a blow. It's hard. Hurting. Blow after blow rains down on my face. It hurts. I'm screaming. I'm screaming.

Make it stop.

Please.

I beg.

I'm sorry.

Worthless. Ignorant. YOU FUCKING FOOL RUINED EVERYTHING. IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!

Lights run away. Fleeing. My body fighting. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Everything stops. Hurting. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. Everything is always my fault. My fucking fault.

"Grow up. Fucking brat."

Small. A tiny ant on the ground. A bug waiting to be smashed.

My voice grows smaller and smaller. Words catch in my throat. My breaths falter. He's screaming. He's going to kill me. No.

No.

No.

Anything but that. Please motherfucker leave me the fuck alone!

I look at him with innocent eyes. No worries in the world. A small grin spreads across my face. Mommy and daddy never hurt me. They love me. A man is here. I'm quickly on my feet moving towards him. Play mate. Someone to spend time with. Play with toys. Build things. My hands stretch out towards him. My tiny heart beats fast. I want to play.

"Are you my daddy?"

{table by zoë}

[Kire]

Marchello Donner

"I didn't care - I'd finally f o u g h t b a c k."

He shouts at me as I shout at him. "Fucking piece of shit. Stupid. Arrogant. Son of a bitch." I keep going, I keep saying nasty things to his face, telling him things that I would never want to hear, and I never want to have to say again. "Death will seek you. Devour you. Your blood will be mine." He doesn't scare me anymore, if anything I scare myself more than this kid has ever done. He has thrown down his axe and turns to stomp away. I have won.

But then he stops and turns around as I continue to shout. The look in face is hard to describe and I just keep yelling. I watch his eyes grow large, I watch him take first one step back and then another. I watch as I terrorize him. What have I become? He's cowering away from what I say but I can't stop yelling now that I've started and so I have to watch myself be something I never wanted to be. He's fighting to find something to say and I'm just shouting. Every time I say a word he moves farther away from me and I have to keep myself from following. The words were enough, the words were more than enough and yet I can't keep myself from continuing to scream at him. I'm terrible, I'm horrible. I'm the one who should be cowering but I had had to win. This is the cost of victory.

He collapses, twitching like he's having a stroke and I don't know anyone hasn't come to his side. I want to go to him but I had sacrificed so much for this victory, and more words are coming from my mouth so I just stand there, screaming at this boy. He screams back, but it's not directed at me. Wordless screams to nothing in particular and everything all at once. I see him writhe and it's like he is fighting every bit of his own life all at once while I tear him down from the outside. Monster. He may well have been possessed, but I knew I wasn't and so I had no excuse for how horrible I was. At least it wasn't really him that had threatened to put my head on a plate. It was me, though, that was breaking him down with my words, devouring his flesh with my screaming. I was the real cannibal here, not him.

And then it stops, and I stop, and the whole world seems to stop.

I take a breath, holding without knowing as he comes back to himself. His eyes are large and open and innocent. There is no sign of who he had been. Was the demon gone, or did he simply take control of it? I stand in silence as he smiles, a grin of joy and carelessness that contrasts any other expression I had seen him make so drastically that I find I can't breathe. What happened to him? I can't move as he gets up and comes running to me. The way he moves is different. How can that be possible? His hands are out like I child, asking to be lifted into a parent's arms. I feel a blockage in the back of my throat and no matter how many times I swallow it doesn't go away.

I'm terrible, horrible, disgusting, and this guy is nothing more than a child in a man's body. How could I have said things to him like this? The demon had taken away his mental aging and so now he's left in the same state as though he was five. I hunch so I look him directly in the eye, trying to understand everything that had happened and failing miserably. I see him breathe, I see his lips part, I wait for him to speak -

"Are you my daddy?"

- and once more I can't breathe.

"I-" How do I explain to him, what do I say to him? Does he really remember nothing? "No." It's all I can say, it's all I can think because nothing makes sense anymore and I'm talking to a teenage five year old and my head is starting to ache. I'm choking. "No," I repeat again, trying to breathe, "I'm not your daddy." There are tears in my eyes and I want to think that they're from my gasping for air but I don't think that's true. I reach out and gently take his hands. "Your daddy isn't here."

Ripred what do I do?

OOC Notes

[presto]

Here they come to snuff the rooster
Yeah here come the rooster, yeah
You know he ain't gonna die

[/presto]

[googlefont="Nothing You Could Do:400"]

[Knuckles]

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

Eyes wide, he stares into the eyes of the guy in front of him. Arms still outstretched in front of him waiting for someone to pick him up like long before. Every hurt, every pain was taken away when mommy and daddy held him in their arms rocking him back and forth. This guy, Marchello, looks confused. Like he's never seen anything like this before, yet the tiny boy believed wholeheartedly the man was his daddy. But when the words left his lips, a heart collapsed inside his chest. "No. I'm not your daddy."

Tiny hands tossed a single die into the air allowing it to bounce around on the floor a couple times before landing on the number seven. It was something Teddy played with a lot when he was back home. Not a single soul in the world bothered him. "Your daddy isn't here." And he took his hands like a parent would a child when in need. His heart quivered inside his chest as tears welled up in the corner of his eyes. If daddy wasn't here, where could he be? How I here? What happen?

Many questions fly before his mind before repeating the same thing over and over. Innocent eyes flew towards the boy in front of him. They were dressed the same. The outfits looked alike, and the only difference Teddy could find was the numbers. A six rested on his outfit. Mommy always talked about the numbers. Said they were districts. The tiny boy was from district nine. And somewhere on the outfit covering his body was a nine. What was this place? What would happen to him?

"Do you know where my daddy is?"

A simple question like the one before. The large grin spreading from ear to ear as he looked around. So many toys to play with! Teddy couldn't wait to get his hands on them. Tossing the die into the air again, he laughed childishly and clapped his hands together in celebration over and over as the tiny die bounced against the floor. Talking to a stranger wasn't allowed, yet mommy and daddy wasn't here to stop him. Teddy was free from them. Away from them. His breaths caught in his throat as he tried drawing in deep breaths.

"Want to play a game?"

"Or tell a story?"

"Or go take a nap?"

"Or help me find daddy?"

A million questions flew from his lips most of them repeating the same sentence over and over. Not that it mattered to him. His hands shook steadily by his side as he tossed the die into the air again laughing as it bounced around little by little. Daddy never wanted to have fun, but he was there protecting the tiny boy from any and all harm. Had daddy let him down? After all harm would surely find his way towards him in the matter of days when every single one of the tributes were tossed into the arena, but for now Teddy had no idea what was going on. None at all.

{table by zoë}