BALD BLOOD

eyes of gold

[genesisroux-blog]

[soundofacannon-blog]

Vodka v. Genesis

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[genesisroux-blog]

monster bash

[soundofacannon-blog]

The barn door creeks as it opens, lit only by the ambient light coming from outside. There isn’t much inside save for mounds of hay and a few large hogs milling around, and they seem pretty interested in you, so much that they’re charging to meet you.

Write an OS about your battle with the 3 hogs. They might look harmless but their skulls are a lot thicker than you’d think! 

[genesisroux-blog]

Oh. My. God. These crusty ass fucking bacon bitches better watch themselves before I cook their asses and use their fat to fuel myself. Coming for me like this? Honestly, how dare they. They should be embarrassed, considering their appearances in the midst of God. On Judgement Day, their nasty asses are getting sent straight to the gates of hell, where I’ll be far away from, thankfully. 

One crack baby charges towards me. I’m laughing so hard at how completely hideous it is, like, what the fuck? I’m actually screeching at this complete and utter mess. I raise the pitchfork and point it at the trash. Better stay the fuck back. It presses its head against the prongs and attempts to move forth. Bitch?

It keeps coming for me, so I drive the pitchfork into its belly, skewering the hoe. It squeals and I laugh.  I press my foot down on the corpse and yank out my pitchfork. 

Something starts ramming me from behind and I swivel the hell around. Another one. Oh fuck no. I kick at the front of its chest, sending the bitch back a little way’s off. Another kick and then I stomp on it’s ass before driving the pitchfork through its back. Xoxo. 

I take a seat because I’m tired right now and I feel like I’m about to sweat and I don’t sweat. That’s disgusting. And then I see another fucking hog running towards me at full speed waddle. I take out a knife and just hold it out, digging it into the abdomen before it has a chance to ram into me. I wipe my weapons off on the dead animals, because I will not be contracting any nasty diseases from them, and bounce out of this trap house because it’s literally trash. 

I stroll over to the stables and peek my head inside. I’ll literally just close this goddamn door if I see anything breathing. 

[genesisroux-blog]

monster bash

[soundofacannon-blog]

You’re standing in front of an old barn and stables. It’s dead silent save for the rainfall. Do you enter either?

[genesisroux-blog]

I trace the outline of my cheekbones with a finger as I contemplate my options. I could either stay outside and allow myself to be drenched in rain, and then look like a waterlogged, soggy ass mess, or I could enter the barn.

I enter the barn.

[genesisroux-blog]

monster bash

[soundofacannon-blog]

You begin down the path without interruption, the trail beginning to become a bit flooded as the rain steadies. As you approach a trail marker with the number 7 on it you face another crossroads. Do you continue forward, turn left towards another clearing or right to what looks like a dead end?

[genesisroux-blog]

Dead end? No. 

Turn left? No. I only turn right because I’m always right. Except I will turn left if I need to. I just don’t want to enter this clearing. Clearings are messy. You’re out in the open, with no shelter, and visible by competitors. I’ll especially stand out, and the reason for that is obvious. I don’t think I need to explain it. 

I continue down the path, arriving at a building (B). I examine the windows to ensure that there is no obvious signs of a tribute before entering. 

[genesisroux-blog]

monster bash

[soundofacannon-blog]

You walk through the muddy trails until you come to a fork in the road. To your right you can make our a clearing, to your left the trail continues.

[genesisroux-blog]

I doubt that there’s anywhere to go inside in this clearing to the right, and my intuition is correct almost six-thousand percent of the time. I turn left, continuing down the path. 

[genesisroux-blog]

monster bash

For once, can I just live? Can I just fucking live, just this once? Does this monster messy bitch need to come back and try to kill me again, even after he threw me across the forest? I mean, I kind of love him for trampling Tybalt and shattering his leg bones (truly iconic, thanks bitch) but he fucked me up a little bit too, and that was not well received by God (me).

He’s kind of just holding me and my entire attitude right now is a pissed off question mark. Like is this bitch going to put me the fuck down? Is he going to try to snap my neck, only to reveal that I’m immortal and that shit can’t actually happen to me? I feel like he’s just wasting my time, and I don’t really need this right now, especially since a bitch just dragged another tribute. The Gamemakers should be appeased from that to be quite honest. I killed two bitches already, so why are they sending another hoe after me? Well, I mean they kind of do hate my ass, for whatever reason. Probably just jealous of every aspect of me, but whatever.

In this moment, I will ask myself: what would Jesus do? And since I’m on the same level as Jesus, I suppose I can also ask: what would Genesis do? And then I just do what a bitch usually does and everything works out perfectly because I’m a spiritual royal bitch.

I stab my knife into his forearm, receiving little reaction on his part. It’s unusual that I don’t have this much of an impact on somebody, but I guess it’ll be a sweeter victory in the end. I reinsert the knife, imagining that it feels simply like a pinprick to this wretched thing, so I decide to dig it around inside, pulling the knife back and forth, twisting it, and slashing through vessels and flesh. 

He remarks with a gruff, “Ow.” He drops me to the ground, a benign, yet troubling grin on his face. He lifts up his gigantic foot, the shadow casting itself over my head. Oh fuck no. Not today satan. My beautiful face will not meet an end like this. I roll out of the way as he stomps his foot onto the ground, narrowly missing me. The ground beneath his feet crumbles and shakes. In a swift motion, I drive Tybalt’s pitchfork into his foot, pushing it deep into the earth after it pierces through his flesh. I honestly have like zero idea how to even use this weapon, so I’ll just leave fuck him up to that extent with it. 

The colossus roars in annoyance, slowly ripping the pitchfork out of his foot and tossing it aside. Okay. Rude. His head and neck are like two feet above me, so I have absolutely no way of reaching him. Nice, that’s super helpful. Thanks.

So naturally I’ll use my natural finesse and beauty to defeat him. I take off into a brisk run, fast enough so that I won’t get trampled like Tybalt, and slow enough so that he still trails behind me at a close enough distance. I come to a tree and stop, turning around. Frankenskank doesn’t slow down, though. I sashay out of the way, and his reflexes aren’t quick enough for him to do so as well. He crashes into the tree, his head bouncing off. I notice a hairline crack in the tree’s base, and smirk as it begins to tip. Amazing. 

Frankenstein recuperates and sets his sits on me again. I strut over to the space in front of the falling tree, watching on with satisfaction as bitch follows in suit. He stomps in front of me, preparing to destroy me (hint: that isn’t possible, boo boo). There’s a noise behind him, the crack of a tree, and I once again sashay out of the way, leaving the tree to collapse atop Frankie, smashing into his head and pinning him to the ground. 

Oh my god. Oh. My. God. He’s still not fucking dead. What the fuck? I think I’ve done enough. But apparently not because he’s still breathing. His ugly ass is still on this earth. Why? He begins to struggle under the weight of the tree, and I know that soon he’ll be up and ready to drag. Yeah, no. That will not be happening. 

I approach his body and begin to saw at his neck with my knife. Nasty. I should not have to do this right now. I slice through it deep enough to ensure that this bitch is most definitely dead. 

I gather my things and walk away from my masterpiece, stepping onto a path (6). I don’t have any time or need to be out in this disgusting weather. I either deserve sunshine, or the indoors. 

[genesisroux-blog]

update: arena day one

↳location: forest between paths four and five

↳allies: who the fuck is good enough for me to ally with? exactly

↳weapons: three knives, pitchfork

↳items: two packs (minus one water bottle, three bandages, some disinfectant cream)

↳injuries: dislocated fingers on bad hand (popped back into place), thigh wound (disinfected and bandaged), ankle ache (resting), headache (a bitch has to power through this, rude), messy vision (the pain from all my fucking wounds has brought the world back into focus, and of course, my beautiful self as well. should be better by tomorrow) 

↳events: i killed some bitch at the bloodbath, and then strutted away from that mess. there were like a million little skanks where i went, so i veered off, ended up in quicksand, and then happened across a bitch, who i killed, with the help of frankenstein (thanks boo, xoxo)

[genesisroux-blog]

bless

[soundofacannon-blog]

Unlike the apothecary, the General Store you just entered has some more useful items lining the shelves, such as a box of Count Chocula cereal, a can of pepsi, and a pair of gloves and socks. 

But what catches your attention more is Casey Carmen turning around and starring you right in the eye, taking note of your injuries.

Decide on your next move: Do you go in for a kill, come to a truce or slam the door before she has a chance to react?  If a death request is desired send us a message asap!

[genesisroux-blog]

I slam the door immediately and flutter the fuck away. I am not doing this right now. A bitch is tired. 

I enter the woods between paths four and five and sit down under a tree. Why is my existence a mess right now. What the actual fuck. I start sifting through my first aid kit and apply disinfectant cream to my wounds, putting bandages over them. And then I pop my fingers back into place, because I can’t be looking like some gnarly ass witch bitch. Good thing I don’t possess a tongue right now, because if I did, I would just be a wreck.

It’s time for me beauty sleep to be honest. Everyone else can go kill each other. 

[genesisroux-blog]

bless

[soundofacannon-blog]

You find the remains of an apothecary shop. It’s lit only by the natural fading sunlight filtering in through the window and a heavy cloud of dust floats through the entire shop. The shelves are bare and as you wander your chest begins to tighten and it becomes harder to breathe. Maybe that isn’t dust floating in the air! Are you going to stay around to find out? 

[genesisroux-blog]

Ugly ass room with no shit inside? Catch me on the exterior of this fucking building. Also why can’t a bitch breathe? I just killed something, this is not something I need at the moment. Yeah, no, I am not staying in here. 

I saunter out of this rat hole and continuing limping around this disgusting little town, walking past some burned down wreck of a building, and coming to one that actually seems slightly more structured (F). 

I enter this one. Please god slash me, let there be something useful here. 

[genesisroux-blog]

bless

A bitch would toss his hair right about now, but a bitch is bald. If a sponsor could sponsor me a wig right now, that would be appreciated. But also I was a gigantic messy bitch in the Capitol, so there’s like a .2 percent chance that’ll happen. Oh well, I don’t need their pity gifts. I just dragged a bitch with like one useful item anyways. So I toss my bald head anyways as though I have hair. I still look beautiful. 

My body fucking hurts. How dare Tybalt do this to me. That cunt can fucking die. Oh, wait. I just killed him. So his corpse can just get eternally fucked up for this, so he can continue to pay even as some ugly pile of dusty ass bones in the ground. Meanwhile, I’m an immortal hoe. 

I limp as beautifully as ever down the path, back to the structure (E) that I was near earlier before the beast appeared and I slaughtered it. 

I examine the area and prepare for entering. This better be fucking worth it. I need to be presentable for the rest of my time in the arena. 

[soundofacannon-blog]

Genesis v. Tybalt

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[genesisroux-blog]

peace

[soundofacannon-blog]

You find yourself standing on the edge of an abandoned town square. There isn’t a soul in sight or a sound to be heard, creating an eerie atmosphere. A majority of the buildings are either burnt down or boarded up (those with X’s on them) In the dead center is a well in the ground (black square) and an empty gallows post (brown dot). 

Do you explore further or turn back to the trails?

[genesisroux-blog]

Something about this hideous location is just not speaking to me. The contrast it is drawing to be beauty is so utterly horrendous that it’s making me feel extremely queasy. I’ll probably return later, but for now, a bitch has got to stew where a bitch is familiar with. 

I turn myself around, heading back onto the path from which I came, walking on the forest’s edge. 

[genesisroux-blog]

peace

[soundofacannon-blog]

You pass by the trail marker and continue down the path unimpaired, that is until your feet begin sinking into the ground which you walk upon. How do you plan on getting out of this stretch of quicksand?

[genesisroux-blog]

Okay so first of all, fuck this quicksand for trying to commit treason against me, royal bitch of this disgusting arena. I am quite literally being dragged at this very moment, which is something I really don’t allow anyone to do to me. I feel like this quicksand isn’t going to come to its senses, which would tell it to release my fine ass, so I’m actually going to have to exert energy. Again, why does a bitch not have an avox following a bitch around in this arena?

I suppose I can understand why this quicksand is continuing to pull me under, considering everything about me, which can be summed up with the word gorgeous, but that’s no excuse. Fuck this quicksand. Good thing a bitch is probably the smartest, most self-aware hoe in this entire world. 

I remove my wooden stake from my pack as my hips are consumed by these sands. Cute. Why couldn’t a bitch just have been given a knife? It’s honestly rude. I deserve better. 

I stab the stake deep into the ground, as far as my wingspan will extend. The ground here is not quicksand, but rather the surface of the forest floor. Bless. I drive it deeper and use the leverage to yank my beautiful self out of the sand. 

Gathering my fine self, I continue down the path, approaching a structure that lies at its end. 

[genesisroux-blog]

peace

Okay so a thing this beautiful masterpiece is not fucking doing is dealing with these four other ugly ass messes who actually thought they could come in the same direction as me. Why does this have to happen to a bitch when a bitch has water bottles and peasant sandwiches? I mean I would obviously still win, but my face would get fucked up in the process probably, so that’s a no from me.

Bye hoes, you can all kill each other. I really don’t care. I slide into the forest and sashay away among the trees, heading north, and leaving all those crack babies to their own devices. Also, can I just say, that not currently possessing a tongue is actually helping me? Because I didn’t end up dragging any of those bitches because of how horrible they look. But also fuck the Gamemakers, they can die for doing this to me. But it’s okay because I’ll be back in the Capitol and the cunts are going to have to give me my goddamn tongue back. But also fuck them.

This forest is honestly not cute whatsoever. Dry, crusty ass pine trees. Why is this arena so ugly? Why am I being punished just because of my natural beauty and talent? I continue to traverse through the forest, parallel to a path labeled with a four.

[genesisroux-blog]

a haunting | os

“Can you not touch me?” I hiss.

“Bitch, I’m kind of fucking busy.”

“Why the fuck are you touching me still? Back the hell up.”

This incessant poking is infuriating. I have been sitting upon the couch, intermittently gazing at the television screen and into the mirror, having a beautifully tranquil night filled, up until some little peasant wench has decided to poke and prod my royal ass. But I’m not turning around at this point, because that makes it seem like I actually care about whoever the hell this nobody is touching me. Just withdraw your greasy little fingers off of me, the art masterpiece in the museum. The signs all say no touching, so why in God’s (my) name am I being touched? Is a bitch blind? Sometimes I just feel like I need to invest in a glass case to surround myself with.

Now I’m hearing this annoying ass gurgling sound mixed with a humming that sounds extremely fucked up and not cute and melodious at all, like when I hum or do anything. I really don’t need this tonight. I’m trying to cleanse my body before the arena, so I look as beautiful as possible on the millions of cameras throughout it. I’m sipping on my cucumber water, with cucumbers on my eyes (they have small holes in them so I can still see myself in the mirror, obviously), a face mask smeared all over my already beautiful, supple flesh, and a plush white bathrobe.  I feel alive and iconic, this gross background music is not something I want to be hearing at the moment.

I begrudgingly peel the cucumber slices off of my eyes and swivel. “What the hell do yo-Holy fucking shit!” I exclaim. This is honestly the best case scenario. Here I am, looking at that little mindless hoe who I slyly avoxed on reaping day. This is so hilarious. I love when good things like this happen to me. See, this is the kind of thing I needed to lift my spirits and boost my confidence, even though it’s already dangerously high. Amazing.

“How has life been since I dragged you? Has it been a difficult adjustment?” I taunt.

He begins to make hand motions. “Yeah I don’t speak sign language, so you can stop, boo. Don’t waste your energy, and more importantly, my precious time,” I interrupt.

He looks so weak. So defeated. He’s had everything taken from him. His tongue, his life, his freedom. The change between two weeks ago and now has been so utterly drastic for him. It brings a smile to my luscious lips. I’m so proud of my impact. It’s truly one of those things that just makes my heart swell with pride, and my face light up with joy and radiate even more beauty than usual.

I wrap my arms around the gross human in a hug. “Thank you so much for being here. Now get the fuck away from me because you’re disgusting and smell like tuna. But you really made me feel amazing about myself. But also I can feel my sinuses deteriorating. So bye,” I say as I shove the hoe away.

What an amazing ego boost to receive right before the arena. I love myself.

[genesisroux-blog]

genesis roux interview

Karina: Let's welcome the boy with the golden eyes, Genesis Roux of District Eight, to the stage one last time before he's off to the arena!

Genesis: Hello, Karina. And this won't be the last time I'm on stage, not by a long shot. Beautiful people like me just don't die, after all.

Karina: Well we sure hope not! It would be a travesty to see someone as attractive as yourself no longer with us, but that's the nature of the games, I suppose!

Genesis: I know. I literally just said that. I really don't need you reaffirming my beauty, sweetie. I have a mirror. That's really all I need.

Karina: Wow, you're a bit testy tonight! Does something have you down in the dumps, Mr. Roux?

Genesis: I mean, it's hard to actually feel upset about anything when you look like I do, but I find myself thinking about the punishment I just received from the Gamemakers for my private training session, you see.

Karina: Ah, a punishment! So we have a bad boy in our midst? Please, do elaborate.

Genesis: I wouldn't exactly say that I'm a bad boy, more of a boy who is simply better than everybody else here. Is it so wrong for me to show that I'm aware of this? Anyways, the Gamemakers made a tragic attempt at dragging me, but failed of course, because I naturally outsmarted them. Because here I am, as beautiful as I've always been.

Karina: *feels slightly anxious at the insulting of the Gamemakers* So, this all happened because of private training? Tell us, what are your thoughts on your score?

Genesis: My main thoughts are why didn't I receive a twelve? Like I honestly cannot even fathom why I was awarded a measly six, considering what I did in private training. Maybe the Gamemakers were embarrassed in their trash security system? I really don't know. Oh well, I'll let them sort out their little problems.

Karina: What could have been so bad that you deserved a punishment?

Genesis: Clearly, my level of perfection and intelligence was just too much for them to accept. Instead, they had to try to tear me down, lower my confidence. It's sad that they thought altering my eye color would work. But if I've learned anything here in the Capitol, it's that nothing is permanent. Especially not the highly coveted position of Gamemaker. *smirks*

Karina: You may want to calm down a bit if you actually want to make it to the arena! The Gamema-

Genesis: Yeah, no hun. That won't be happening. I'm tired of acting civil. That's just not cute or fun, or my personality at all.

Karina: Well, okay then, Mr. Roux! *rolls eyes in annoyance* As you know, sponsor Valour Delarosa is very interested in you! Do you have anything to say to her in hopes that she'll choose you to sponsor?

Genesis: At this point, I'm 8000000% sure that Valour will not be sponsoring me. We just don't fit together well, at all. She values beauty, and I'm beautiful, but she also values kindness, and that's just not a trait I possess, thankfully. So she can look elsewhere, because I don't need to be receiving gifts from someone who I'm nothing like. If you had seen my private training session, then you know I can handle myself without being showered by pity gifts. You'll see in the bloodbath.

Karina: Well, that's a mighty promise!

Genesis: I know. I'm the one who promised it. Just because I'm gorgeous does't mean I forget everything ten seconds after I say it. Everything about me is beautiful, including my mind.

Karina: It seems that we're out of time! Mr. Roux, if you'd kindly exit stage left! I think it's safe to say that Panem learned who you really are tonight!

Genesis: A manipulative bitch? Because honestly, I agree.