Cloud Deverell's Story

(⊙_◎) (￣(エ)￣)ゞ ＼(-___________-;)／ ~(>_<~) (´Ａ｀。) (*´；ェ；`*) ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ


Nervousness. （；_・） That was only thing he felt ever since they had boarded the train. Smiling wryly as he thought about his family’s faces, he wondered how they were faring right now. If he knew better, his sisters along with his mother were currently at home, praying fervently and wishing for his safety as they cried rivers of tears. That was how they work -his little family that is; when his father died it had been the hardest. Cloud and his family had cried, almost accused everyone else, and begged the mayor to make an immediate and thorough investigation of the incident. They had pestered the rescue team, the authority and even the doctors all for the sake of bringing justice for his father. Ciel's death was heavily publicized (after all everyone had seen the explosion of the research laboratories) around the district. The laboratory was one of the many establishments dedicated for researching about nuclear-related items and was among the largest, which is why the mayor had made a fuss about it. o(╥﹏╥)o

It was only due to his grandparents that they had snapped out of the depression. A day after, his grandparents (and the current head of the clan) visited them. They ‘encouraged’ them to stop all nonsense and just accept Ciel’s death as peacefully and solemnly as they could. It was an accident and it was apparent that nobody wanted it. It would not do them good to be consumed by the loss. His grandparents had called them on their behavior, stating that they are causing the family name deliberate shame and utter humiliation.

It was hard to let go and to stop pestering anyone they can to ask for justice, but unusually enough after awhile, they succeeded. Cloud, while still grieving and angry… had learned to let go. Instead of wallowing in self-pity and his hatred for the perpetrators of his father’s death, he worked harder to strive better.

Staring at the four walls of his cabin, he then remembered the recent interviews. It was interesting… very interesting to say the least. He recalled the faces and personalities of the other tributes as they took a seat at the stage. There were some that scared him with the way how intimidating they appeared when Caeser Flickerman interviewed them: especially Diomache Rayne, she was… so terrifying (with how confident and ready she was for this game, subsequently too confident enough to kill them). Scipio Hardin, Yossarian Caulfield and Gavril Scynthe were also among the many others that intimidated him. They looked strong and as skillful as ever.

Sighing, he shook of thoughts about the interview and instead focused on his stylist. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Cloud remembered with great happiness, the details about his goodbye to Isabella. It was enlightening and very liberating. Once he heard that his mentor would not be coming with him any longer, he almost jumped for joy. He wasn’t a savvy about the Game or this Quarter Quell, seeing that he was more concerned with the archives and researches related to his district’s specialty but at least he is quite happy to see that this may be his last interaction with him. (￣ω￣;) Isabella… was one eccentric individual. (ﾉ´ｰ`)ﾉ According to his endless sharing about his personal background when they were prepping him up for the interview, CC learned that Isabella had undergone surgery thrice: twice of that was to get a female body and once to return back to his original male assets. Isa- as what he liked to be called had stated that he had been confused on what he wanted to be. He told Cloud that when he was a child, becoming a woman greatly fascinated him. Isa said that since he had won the game, he decided to take a surgery. Only to reroll back to a man when he wasn’t able to adopt as well as he could. After several years of living at the Victor’s village though, becoming a woman had captivated him again, causing Isabella to strive to get womanly assets for the second time.

With his mentor being a transgender, Cloud was totally terrified out of his wits. He followed all of Isa’s quirks and whims even going as far as dressing up as a girl for the interview in avoidance from his wrath. Because of that, he had totally regretted wearing that dress and presenting himself to the public. He didn’t know if people taking him as a girl would work to his advantage for the game, but he is quite sure that parading as such had great a definite blow to his masculinity. Even so despite this... CC was undeniably ecstatic. He was finally free from Isa’s clutches!

His happiness about his apparent freedom from the terror lasted for several moments before he actually grew tired of gloating about his mentor’s absence. φ(￣ー￣ )ノ Finally, with the boredom and his current situation sinking in, CC decided to watch the view outside and count the trees or whatever he can see from his position at the train. He was used to being active that sitting still in this place had bothered him. His planned activity however proved to be quite an impossible feat, since after staring for no less than five minutes Cloud had gotten cross-eyed. The train was just moving totally fast, hindering his eyes to register anything else clearly.

Feeling bummed by being unable to finish his challenge, he tried to stifle the boredom and concurrent drowsiness by counting the patterns on the wall of the cabin. ‘…That thing looked like a cloud, or a flower, or a leaf ⊙△⊙’, Cloud thought. His eyes concentrated to the design directly in front of him. After a few moments of getting confused with the drawings, he groaned loudly. He abruptly stood up, and turned to his small belongings. Searching for some ways to be entertained, Cloud opened the bag which Isabella gave him when they parted.

Upon finding a familiar package in his hand, he panicked. It was an experimental bomb! ( ꒪Д꒪)ノ “Why is this here?!” He squeaked, terribly frightened and still holding it. Σ(゜ロ゜;) He looked wide-eyed at the familiar shape of a time bomb in his hand, and jumped around his cabin as he tried of various ways to explain how the thing happened to get in his bag. ‘Is this one of Isabella’s cruel joke? For all those times that I have both mentally and physically shuddered about his ideas?’ It took him a moment or so of panicking, jumping and running comically, he almost stumbled face-down into the seat when the train made a turn as he frantically looked around for a way to dispose it.

He had only stopped when he noticed the small note attached to it: “Cloud, take care, little brother! We had to beg Bella to give this to you. I hope that you always remember us. Do not worry, this wouldn’t possibly explode, it's not a bomb. Laugh and live well, CC! We love you so much. Take care <3, ---your family.” (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

After awhile of staring dubiously in silence, he laughed out loud. Glancing at the "bomb" in his hand, he took a seat and continued laughing. He pouted awhile after, knowing how ridiculous he looked as he was jumping around, and smiled fondly. “Gah!” was the only thing he was able to say before one of the staffs knocked on his door and informed him about the dinner. Shaking his head in amusement, Cloud shouted back in affirmative and safely kept the bomb back to the bag. Standing, he tried to straighten the creases on his shirt that were caused by his recent antics and opened the door as he walked towards the dining area. With the bright smile still present in his face, Cloud cheerfully greeted anyone he might come across with a "Hello". ((*^▽^*))o

The Train Ride to 'Home'

As I sit here, and I think about how everyone in this place must feel - the tensions rising, the fear, the submission, the lust, and even hatred from some... We are twenty-four souls being placed in to fish bowl without a promise for food. It's basically like we've been told it's coming, and we all gather in a pack, optimism winning us over until we find out one day that... Food isn't coming. Then your mind wanders off in the distance, and it comes to the conclusion that everyone around you is coming to: you're going to have to kill them, to survive.

Is that my coping mechanism this time? Thinking about it as survivalism to cope with the idea that I may actually have to kill someone? That's really what I'm going for? Fucking. Stupid. Shit. But it makes sense, I mean, I hadn't anticipated being reaped. No one does. And I hadn't thought about it much other than mourning the others who went off to their doom. Honestly, I didn't give a second thought until it was Kaylianna's turn.

Kaylianna... I miss you. Is this how you felt when it was your time? Did you ever get a second to meet the people you were destined to end lives next to? I wonder if you'd meant to kill your two victims. It all looked so mistaken, so accidental. Before then, all I had known was the gentle fawn that you always were - always would be - to me, but in the Games, you were completely different. Your attitude, your looks - though now I can lend over most of that blame to your stylist now that I realize what a huge part they are in appearances of the tributes.

It's like this whole thing was planned. You, Kaylianna, were the spark inside of me that ignited as soon as you were killed and I realized at that instance... You'd become a memory. And this whole year that's gone by, I should have been tending to the fire, letting it shine and making a difference to light up this world.

I've let you down, but I promise to make it up to you. I won't let them take me without a fight.

Not without a good memory.

-Marvel

Marvelos hadn't been a writer originally. Sure, he'd written a few diaries because memories were a big deal to him. Did anyone gather that yet? But still, with diaries, he wasn't a huge fan of the pencil and paper, and creating something of an art. Really, his passion was to get his feelings out on paper, because it was easier to unleash them on something that wouldn't spin them into it's own problems and hurt you. He could just open the wound, spill the blood, and apply a bandage as necessary. She was always going to be a tough subject for him, even if they weren't in true love. It was the idea, the theory behind it all. He'd never know what she was to him. They weren't permitted that time to find out.

Despite his mood, Marvel let out a smile. He'd chosen to chill out in the lounging area next to the dining car, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he sat back, his journal laying flat on his stomach, hand over it, and another leaning back behind his head to catch it from hiding the back of the couch. He appeared to be completely relaxed and at ease. He let his gaze scan the area before he'd realized he completely forgot that Tyke was here the whole time, drawing or something. It was Mildred that had brought him out to Marvel, her smile and the way the atmosphere in the room just brightened up with her presence.

This was the kind of girl that needed to be around... All day, every day.

Marvel nodded to her, waving with his free hand with a, "Hey there," and then a respective nod to Tyke, though he didn't want to interrupt the artist at his 'desk'. It wouldn't be too much longer that the car would be filled, and that didn't bother Marvel, but he wasn't sure what he expected out of the other tributes when they would enter through and find the dining car. He let out a laugh to himself at the thought of that one.. Cloud, meeting up with Stiletto at the same end of the table. Sharing elbow room. He laughed again, and that's when he noticed the slight pain in his lower stomach. Signal! Warning! Nature's calling!

With that, he folded his journal under his arm and winked at the others entering through, kindly waiting for each one to pass him and allow entry in the opposite direction. He hadn't quite figured out the way this outline of this machine worked, but he knew somewhere, hopefully some place very near, would provide him the necessary... well, you know. When a man's got to go, it's a timer waiting to go off.

I should really just go to my room. That's the only way I know for certain - But he couldn't remember where it was. Annoyed, he started banging through doors, trying to see if they'd open. His strength was present as he grew more and more frustrated with the idea of not finding an applicable location. Out the window is starting to sound fascinating, but I wonder how that would look at this speed? It would definitely come back at me.

Finally, he slammed hard enough in to one door that he heard a few startled noises and shuffling of bodies - like one being flung from next to the door he'd just barged in. Had he smashed a nose? Run over a toe? He regretted it, but he was worried about the cameras thinking he was attacking someone - and he'd be damned if it was for the world to see. He slipped inside, slammed the door shut with a lock and then turned around to meet his current dilemma in the face.

"I am -SO- sorry, I swear, and this is going to sound like a dick move, but if I don't... Well, I've got to piss like a race horse, so if you guys don't mind having this discussion until after I'm done, that'd be great. Two seconds." He blurted out, wincing at his choice of words before he noted the two were undoubtedly two of the males he'd been staring at during the interview. Both attractive, both definitely on different sides of the world as far as personalities... Both undeniably out for each other before he intruded.

I'm a c*** block. Fantastic.