Open RP post

[queller]

OPEN RP POST



1) Leave a prompt or picture.
2) Mark if NSFW.
3) Wait for your character to be totally fucked with.

Comments

[queller]

[Replay after replay, comment after comment, laughter, smiles, quick little memorial photos and then nothing. That person is reduced to nothing but video and a lump of meat and bone that the Capitol will dispose of quickly enough. Johanna wants to feel sick, but instead she just feels numb. This is how it is. This is how it will always be. This whole world is fucked up, inside and out.]

You didn't let anybody down.

[The same couldn't be said for Johanna. She lost everything and everyone. Once they saw what an animal she was, people avoided her, snubbed her, faked any sort of niceties they were supposed to and forewent anything else. No hero's welcome. No family waiting to embrace her. Just death. Destruction. Loneliness. And after how the arena changed her--or did it show her true face?--she wasn't even remotely surprised.]

Must be nice.

[64th]

[ She pauses, and then shrugs noncommittally. Was it nice to go home a winner, to have her portrait hung on the wall at the academy? Of course it was. And then Snow offered his deal and she accepted without a second thought - so she still has her brother, her parents. Even when she's miserable she still thinks it was all worth it.

But what does Johanna have? Nothing, if the whispers are to be believed. Cashmere's never had nothing, never know what it was like to truly be lonely. She's feared it, and it was enough to volunteer despite already being guaranteed to have an easy life, and it was enough to drive her to win. And though Johanna knows best how to find her last nerve and shred it, she does earn some of Cashmere's empathy. In One they tell you that no one but a Victor really understands what it's like to live. If she lost everything the way Johanna has, Cashmere thinks she wouldn't have any reason to keep breathing. ]

It was a relief. [ She shrugs again. ] For a while. You know how the rest goes.

[queller]

Glitz and glamour.

[Her smile is more like a grimace, sarcastic as usual. Johanna honestly would have died on the inside even more if she'd had some kind of real celebration of her "victory". It's fine to be a killer, really. Fine to be feared. It's even fine to be alone.

Yeah, right. Being alone chips away at her. All she has is the other Victors, and goodness knows that ain't much when the Games come around. They sit here and mourn and talk and grind their teeth, waiting for the end, hoping they know the last one.]

We all know what happens, and we can't fucking tell them. This is a joke.

[64th]

Mine wouldn't believe me, even if I did tell them. [ She could, she supposes. But what good would it do? If they did believe her they'd only want to die. Dying at the Cornucopia isn't the way anyone from One wants to be remembered. It wouldn't be worth it. Cashmere didn't even believe her own brother. ]

But hey, look on the bright side. I look real good in this dress.

[queller]

It's better if they don't know. Selling yourself is a chore.

[Stupid fucking Capitol snobs and pieces of shit. But the last comment sends a little wave of cold through Johanna, cooling the passionate anger she felt only a moment ago.]

So do I. My stylist got over the tree thing for one whole day.

[64th]

[ The real chore is keeping the illusion that you like it, to pretend that the power in your own sexuality is yours to wield. Cashmere goes home covered in jewels, and lets everyone believe all of this has been her choice. ]

Did you send 'em off to the doctor? Sounds like somebody hit their head. [ Because seriously what is with the tree thing. It's odder now that the theme isn't followed - maybe they finally ran out of trees to copy? As awful as they are otherwise, Cashmere likes the One prep team. They've had the same stylist for ages and sometimes it even seems like she might have a sliver of human decency in her. She usually manages to disprove that theory almost immediately. ]

My eyelashes feel weird. [ she blinks heavily, and sure enough there are some massive false lashes glued to her face and tiny crystals topping them like gaudy snowflakes. ] You think they're gonna rip my real ones out?

[queller]

[And Johanna hates it, and she knows how much they all hate it, save for a select few freaks. Johanna doesn't go home triumphantly or glittering. She goes home with head defiantly held high and a dead look in her eyes to balance it out.]

I should have. I thought she was going to pass out from the lack of foliage. God forbid I look reasonable. Ever.

[There's a slight pause, followed by a chuckle that almost sounds sincere.]

Your eyelashes? Seriously?

[Johanna reaches out, uninvited, and tries to somewhat delicately run a finger over the very end of the false lashes.] What the hell. Not that I haven't had worse. I had giant feathers last year.

[64th]

Feathers? Lucky bitch. [ She blinks heavy again, and then snorts with laughter. ]

I wasn't the one who told you this, but you have to see Gloss. If you think this is bad... they love to dress him up, like he's a doll. Last night he had this insane feather head dress.

He doesn't even have a shirt tonight. I watch them bedazzle him for like, three hours.

[queller]

What are they trying to do? You're going to blind people.

[Johanna laughs, though, and toys with her own eyelashes, glancing over at Cashmere and batting her eyelashes in a fake seductive manner.]

It's his own fault for being named Gloss, anyway.

[64th]

I'm going to blind myself.

[ Johanna is rewarded with a theatrical swoon, the kind of audience reaction they like to show during the Games. She giggles at Johanna's swipe at Gloss. Normally she wouldn't stand for something like that, but the joke is in this case harmless. And Gloss looks like a disco ball. ]

Can you imagine having to pull those off at the end of the night? He'll be finding them for weeks.