fragilisms
the numbers on her hand had never been something she’d cared about. her mom had told her about it when she was alive ; but when she’d died ; annie had simply gone with her father and brothers & trained to become a warrior. she didn’t need anyone ; specially not some dumb numbers on her wrist to tell her who she was supposed to be with.
the patrol had found some guy out in the woods last night ; some boy from the skaikru. found him not far from the camp ; but never the less they’d taken him down to one of the many underground rooms. she walks down the stairs ; light on her feet & soundless until she opens the last door and gives a small nod to quint. she’d sit guard tonight ; until the morning when the commander came to see this situation out. annie sits down on the log that’d been pulled down here ; before finally letting her eyes wander to the boy who’s chained up to the wall. clearly they weren’t that old ; those who’d come falling from the sky. maybe her age ; not much younger at least. never the less ; they really shouldn’t have come down. they’d ruined so much ; scared the animals…made the mountain men more aware of the grounders close by.
she scoffs slightly while pulling a knife from the holder in her shoe ; before turning her attention to one of the half done arrows she’d been working on earlier. she was nearly done when her attention was drawn to the faint marks beaneath the dirt on her left hand. there is a small frown forming while she puts the knife on the log and lets the arrow fall to the ground. no freaking way. she rubs the dirt off of her pale skin & the numbers only gets clearer.
00:00:00
however she hadn’t met any new person since the last time she looked at the numbers on her hand. nobody new in the camp since…since…dark hues wander slowly up to the sky person ; a small sneer on her lips. it had to be a joke ; a trick…something. she couldn’t be meant to be with HIM. he was weak. he wasn’t a warrior ; he wasn’t even of her people ; nor a member of the twelve tribes. he was a sky person ; he was…her soulmate.
❝ skaikru ; no…no way. ❞
lost but not found - this was the sorrowful ballad of one john murphy. his life falling to pieces at such a young age, filled with flames && white hot heat. his destiny was one of pain && overwhelming agony, not that he believed in destiny to begin with. luck, chance && fate didn't mean ANYTHING - they didn't exist at all.
someone had to FIGHT, not to do everything they could just to survive && carry on. murphy knew this well && everything he was getting now was by his own means. he wasn't going to let anyone control him every again.
clearly, the numbers on his wrist were firmly i g n o r e d. he had little use for a SOULMATE.
growling to himself && covered in mud && blood, it wasn't too difficult for the grounders to snatch him up, the wound on his neck enough to make him pass out when it was squeezed onto.
he woke in P A I N, groaning pitifully but it would be the only noise to escape him at the moment. he wouldn't let them SEE him fall apart. he doesn't react much as a girl walks in, keeping his eyes from her but all it takes is one instant of their eyes catching for a beeping to go off.
fantastic! his soulmate was a savage barbarian. just what he always wanted in his life. in fact, it was what he was missing. "no, these things are faulty. look, i'm sure you've got a wonderful kill technique most of the guys would go wild for but i'm going to pass here. how about you unchain me && we can call this even."
