{{bio.}} But I still wake up, I still see your ghost. Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for. What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Genesis Mikkelsen
District Six Mentor
Winner of the 68th. Most nights, I don't know...
{{main roleplay.}}
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.
Alone with Everybody by Charles Bukowski (via thechocolatebrigade)
Genesis was almost out the door when his words reached her ears. She stopped, her body tensed up and she grabbed at the door frame. Chandler just looked down and away.
“If you don’t want to –“ His stopped mid-sentence when he saw her turn around with a smirk on her face. That brought one to him once again. She wanted to stay with him and that made him happy.
He usually smiled when she touched his hair, but this time, he grimaced. The touch felt a little forced, like she was trying to avoid something, or reinforce something with that touch. It didn’t feel as intimate as they usually did. It was like she totally forgot about the kiss. It made him feel more like a little brother then anything.
He fixed the bed sheets that he had thrown around and climbed into bed, leaving room for Genesis. Once she did, he could feel the coolness of her body. He turned over on his side and dug his face into her cool neck, soothing his flushed face. A small smile played on his lips. He loved this more then anything. To be this close to Genesis. He thought he’d never see her again, now there he was, curled up to her in bed, just like he dreamt of in the arena.
His eyes fluttered shut and he burred his face deeper into the crook of her neck. He slowly drifted off to sleep. The darkness of dreamlessness didn’t scare him because he knew he was alive and it was alright now. He could relax next to Genesis. He was safe.
As he settled in the bed and begun to close his eyes, Genesis pushed off more clothing, pulling away her shirt and only leaving her undershirt, finally peeling away the heavy dark pants she wore with all the sharp metal things-- standing in her underwear and her shirt, slipping in before him, trying to get comfortable.
His arms wrapped around her and she felt as if she melted slightly, feeling perfect, feeling like everything was right. The sheets were wrapped around them both and a soft smile settled on her lips, "Don't get any ideas," she joked, closing her eyes and settling against him, liking the way his arms felt around her, and feeling completely guilty for it.
It was wrong. It was wrong and, just for a moment, she let herself think that it meant more than it actually did. She could pretend. For a night, she could pretend, and-- who could stop her? Chandler's face dug deeper into her back and she let out a soft gasp at the feel of his cold nose, cursing a little, and then finally getting to sleep.
Fingers once again found his scalp and Chandler leaned up into the touch as much as he could, like a kitten being pet. He felt pathetic being that scared and that dependent on Genesis touched to comfort him, but if there was any time to be weak it was now. In front of Genesis, it was okay for him to be weak. If everyone was okay, just like she said, he’d have to pull himself together, take care of Cybil and be there for Calpurnia. He would have to snap out of this quickly and turn his defense system on – which seemed to need time to reboot – and get to work. He wanted to be useful and he couldn’t if he was a mess like he was at the moment.
Genesis sat beside him and looked up into his eyes with a soft, almost unnoticeable smile. It made Chandler smirk too. It was rare that someone could coax a smile from her, so when he did, he enjoyed it. She winked at him and said “So as long as you’re alive Fuckass.” Which turned his smirk into a full smile. That little nickname grew on him faster than the thought it would. It made him know everything was okay, and that Genesis was okay.
They stared at each other for a bit before Genesis spoke again, once again taking his hands. “Been asleep. Wanna know?”
Of course he wanted to know. He had a million questions and only a few answers. He wanted to know where they were exactly, what happened to the games, how long he had been out. But, the fact that he was alive and sitting next to Genesis was too much information to process as it was. The cogs in his head grinded hard as if they hadn’t been moved in years, and it gave him a headache. He was sure if she told him anything else he’d malfunction.
He shook his head in response. “No… not now…” Although he had been resting for God knows how long, the little ordeal they just had had taken a lot of energy from him. “I just want to rest.” He looked down at her with hopeful eyes. Ever since the launch off, he didn’t want anything more then just cuddle up to Genesis. Feel that secure warmth he did every time they where together like that. “Stay?” he half asked, half begged.
She nodded. Alright. So, he didn't want to know. She'd have done the same. She'd have wanted to learn later, to take time to process that she was alive, not dead, and breathing. Genesis stood up, ready to leave, "Rest. Yeah." She said firmly, nodding once more and clearing her throat, teetering and tottering back and forth from her heels to her toes, hands buried deep in her pockets, "I'll-- quarters," she shrugged, backing away, and beginning towards the door.
Genesis was safe. So close to leaving. The farther she was, the better things between them would be. Confusing the boy more would only make things more difficult-- and things were already so fucking difficult.
'Stay?'
The way his voice sounded pulled at her heartstrings (miracle really, she hadn't realised she had any left-- she half laughed at that,) making her hesitated at the door for a moment. She stood there, hand gripping the frame, breathing deeply, trying to get her head wrapped around it all. Stay. He wanted her to stay. A final request, she thought of it as, a final request. For old times' sake. Genesis took a breath and put a small smirk on her face, turning around and heading back to him, putting her hand in his hair and ruffling it, trying to infuse that brother-sister feel that they used to have. "'Course, fuckass," she said, shrugging off her jacket and sitting beside him again. "I'll stay," Genesis murmured, nodding towards the bed and blankets, "Go on, then,"
Chandler was grabbed by the arm and turned around to face Genesis. He tried to look anywhere else but in her eyes because the guilt was overbearing. He had lost the necklace. He lost the most precious possession he had. His gaze was faced down and he saw Genesis pull something out of her pocket and his body relaxed when he saw that razor blade pendent. She reached up and clipped it on his neck. Once in was secure he sat down on the bed and let out a sigh.
He was tired and scared, but relieved about the necklace. He didn’t lose it and he didn’t fuck up as bad as he thought. His body was relaxed again, the little stomach pain that had flared up during his panic had begun to subside.
He looked up at Genesis and cracked a tiny smile back at her.
“Home…” he echoed mindlessly. The amount of money he’d give to see that disgusting slum of a place. He would gladly crawl into his over-firm bed and hear the trains go over head at three in the morning.
But District Six was far way, and the chances of him seeing it again were slim. Genesis was all he had now, the closest thing to a family and a home. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close for a hug, his face nuzzled into her stomach, regaining the closeness he lost when he jumped up to look for the necklace.
All of a sudden, all his mistakes began to flood his mind. He remembered how he spent what he thought was his last few seconds on the floor crying out to Genesis.
“I’m sorry.” He knew he said it a million times before, but he finally had the chance to say it in person, and maybe she would forgive him his failures.
He sat on the bed before her and Genesis silently ran her fingers through the curls, gentle fingers being careful of the knots that had formed in his time asleep-- it didn't occur to her to brush his hair, she was too busy trying to will for him to wake up. Her blunt nails scratched softly at his scalp and the corner of her lips tilted upwards, a tiny hint of a smile on her face. Just a hint.
'I'm sorry,' Chandler said, only resulting in a shake of the head on Genesis' part. Her lips parted to speak, but nothing came, her brain chalking it up to the gesture of her head being enough. She tutted softly and sat beside him, head tilted up at her ex-tribute, looking into his blue eyes. Again, her lips returned into the somewhat smile, the amused tiny smirk that didn't exactly constitute a full smirk of any kind, and she winked, "So long as you're alive, fuckass," Genesis whispered, pushing his hair away and making a face, tilting her head to the side, taking him in slowly.
In the year he had slept, he had lost so much. War had begun and war was still going on. A birthday had passed and he had no idea. A whole year, an entire year, and things were going to be so hard to explain fully. A year he had slept, a year Genesis had been by his bedside, a year of his life gone, literally, in the blink of an eye. Hours ago, minutes ago, he was in the Games. For him, it was moments prior that Brianna had killed him.
But. A year. It was a year. And things changed in a year. Things changed entirely. Genesis knew, she knew that it was wrong. The feelings that she had had she buried. They weren't suitable. There was an age difference, a large difference between them, and-- she was his mentor. She was his mentor-- and-- maybe-- Genesis sighed and shook her head before taking his larger hands in hers, "Been asleep. Wanna know?"
“Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?”
So, her only hope was to make it through the entire scrapyard and lose herself in the centre square-- where she was sure there had to be a crowd of something, right? Hopefully get lost in there, then dash to Trina’s house (her new, and very first friend,) and lay low until the Peacekeepers gave up on their search, and returned to whatever headquarters they had.
Genesis made it to the District's centre and stopped in her tracks, eyes darting about, the sudden realisation of it being Reaping Day settling in her brain, followed by the thought of fuck me, I'm screwed.
Looking behind her and seeing the Peacekeepers nearing her, Genesis turned again and bolted into the crowds of children and adolescents going through check in and hiding herself in the bunch of girls, fixing her long hair and making it seem like she totally didn't just finish running away from five Peacekeepers-- Genesis Mikkelsen? A scoundrel? Never.
The video and traditional speech dragged on and all Genesis could think of was how the fuck was she going to escape when the ceremony finished. The sixteen year old snapped her head about at the sound of her name, brows knitting together in confusion. "Genesis Mikkelsen," the name was repeated, and an absolute chill ran through her body, every part of her feeling as if it had frozen. Her jaw was slack and her eyes were wide and her friend's hand found hers, gripping it as tightly as she could-- 'Go,' came her friend's weak voice, cracking in the air and shocking Genesis, forcing her to step forwards and stumble towards the stage in her dark garb, multiple chains, and heavy backpack-- quickly pulled off of her as she climbed the steps onto the stage that seemed so penultimate in her mind.
Her breath was taken from her as she saw the crowd of people before her, girls like her, each bewildered and each of them relieved that it wasn't them on the stage. Of course-- a sixteen year old? Why the hell would someone volunteer? Why would someone care if it was Genesis Mikkelsen, resident spitfuck, going into the games?
They wouldn't. That's the thing. And for that, Genesis wasn't angry with them.
"Finis Lyons."
The words shook through the air and Genesis felt a cold chill go down her back. Though she didn't know the boy too well, she knew who he was. He was twelve. He was a young boy, twelve-- just barely twelve.
Genesis' green eyes searched the crowd of boys and there-- she saw him. Timidly walking through the hoard, all skin and bones and everything that represented District Six. He was scrawny, dark hair sticking to his forehead and arms scratching-- he took the stage and all Genesis could do was watch him from where she stood as the escort's voice reverberated out in the air, finishing up the speech and--
The female tribute of District Six pushed herself over towards Finis, falling onto her knees and pulling the boy into her arms, "I won't let you lose," she muttered into his ear as she heard the stomp of the Peacekeepers' boots come onto the stage, "You will win--" with that, she was ripped away from him, and the last thing she remembered of that day was her kicking and screaming, biting a hand-- and finally, a sharp pain to the back of her head... And finally, darkness.
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
amandla
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
