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Knowing and WantingReal or not, they don’t know anymore.
His awakening is a rude one, and he curses the fact that he’s still hooked up to those dratted hospital machinery; he’s never quite liked needles and their larger, intravenous counterparts. And he wonders, why he’s here in the first place. But first, he has to know, if whatever he’s seeing is real or not.
Real, or not, he doesn’t know, he no longer knows, and he wants to know.
Mirai. That is his first thought after that.
What happened to her?
He gazes around the room, and his gaze settles on a familiar pair of glasses, comfortably sat on a chair beside his bed.
"Kuriyama-san," he breathes, and reaches for the worn plastic frames. He fingers the glasses, a dull pain beating within his torso, and he wonders, whatever happened to her, and just why he’s trapped within the four sterilised walls of a hospital ward.
And somewhere, deep within him, something whispers, that this is her doi
SoundlessSometimes she speaks, sometimes she doesn’t,Because she knows he will.
Her Games leave her wounded, broken, floating in the thin in-between of consciousness and not. She doesn’t want to know how many she killed, how she killed, and why she’s still alive. But he does. he knows every single little thing about her in that Arena, and he knows just what it feels, to stop feeling, to stop caring, and to simply break - just like a fatal breakdown in the factories back in Three.
The Capitol doctors deem her imminent recovery a slow and painful one, and he feels, somehow, obligated and wanting to heal her. He doesn’t know if this is just mere attraction, or just completing his job as her Mentor. He thinks it’s the former, but logic dictates otherwise, because, isn’t this so so so wrong? Absolutely no Mentor is to (are they not?) have such feelings for their Tributes, are they?
Regardless, he is there by her bedside, every waking mom
the wholewhat hope, what light
do you seek?
but of course, you're just
another hollow casket
to set ablaze
as the ashes of an empty husk
collect and scatter
to the winds' whims
is that not
what you are,
for the wings of the promised afterlife
shall never take to the storm-filled skies
and your efforts of-
of defying the whole
have come to naught,
have they not?
no, the whole-
and they mock the husk
and trample the ashes
of a common destiny unfulfilled,
a life that hath
yet to live as a whole
but for what?
for the chains
that bind you are everlasting,
and the wings bare of feathers
cease seeking unattainable flight
what flight is this thou speaketh of?
no, no flight - walk, run, hide,
before the masses come
and engulf you,
and fuse you into this
and what a sight indeed,
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More