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Post by Deleted on Nov 21, 2014 5:24:23 GMT
Thirty-three, what an age. He'd seen so much in his aging days. At three, the departure of his father from his life. Eight, he had created his first tinker which later aided most of the District's production. Twelve, he was a master of technology, creating and destroying daily. Fifteen, girls began to distract him from his creativity. Eighteen, he managed to level love and thought, having a new girl every other day and a fresh invention to fill the gaps. By nineteen the President had caught on to his genius and scooped him up, adding the man to his growing army of men. Twenty-one, he discovered the wonders of liquor, in which one time while he was wasted he'd came up with the idea of injecting humans with a gene that'd mutate their genetic order- case number one being Trigger Mason at his ripe age of three. Twenty-five, he'd gotten married and then divorced in a matter of months because he couldn't be parted from his toys. Twenty-eight, he was building a range of suits for battle, iron cast outfits with devices that acted as knowledge and hostility. Thirty, his brain hadn't stopped, only expanded in creativity, which was around the time of him advancing medical supplies and devices that aided in healing- things only the Capitol had access to. Then now, thirty-three, a breathing moment. A break. Ronin somehow managed to tear himself away from his pounds of technology and ventured to Four, the neighboring District to his home. It was decent enough, he supposed. The sand was sticky and irritating, the sun far too bright, and the brittle cold of winter made the place gloomy and not nearly worth his while. Yet, he was here, parading around as if he was the biggest deal, and boy was he. Head held high and shades in place, his perfectly trimmed beard highlighted his chiseled jaw, lips in a pout as he dusted sand off of his prim suit. The man didn't belong here, he stuck out like a sore thumb among the other citizens prancing about. See, Ronin wasn't quite normal. He never could grasp the idea of silence and was horribly blunt. Sarcasm pumped through his veins and every move he made was one done dramatically. Attention had to be on him, so it really was no surprise when he ripped the glasses off his face and stared down a blonde woman marching his way. Leaning forward and squinting his eyes, his lack of personal space and overwhelming charisma set in. "You," he called, tone nothing more than demanding, "Do you live here?" He had no sense of communication, having been locked away with computers all day he'd grown to just get to the point. Usually.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 22, 2014 20:16:28 GMT
A baby... She was going to have a baby... She wasn't sure if she was ready for something like this. She had no family. She had few friends. She had even less money and even less responsibility. She'd lived her life this far moving from beach to bed, usually not her own, and then back to the beach. She didn't know what she was going to do, how she was going to raise a respectable human being when she was a disgusting one. She knew she wasn't a good person. She was under no illusions there.
Ah, and the father of the baby... Well, she'd managed to track the man down. He was the only person she'd slept with that month. Thanks to the war she'd hit a dry spell after him. So she knew it was his, there was no other way it could be anyone else's. She tracked him down and knocked on his door. He was surprised to see her, she could tell. At least he remembered her, that made it easier.
I'm pregnant, with your baby."
She'd remembered the way the blood has drained from his face, his skin turning pale and his eyes getting wider. Well, so much for hoping for a happy reaction. Well, who would be happy about having a baby with the tramp of Four. He'd shaken his head and stammered something about being gay before shutting the door in her face.
So that's where she was at. Marching down the beach of Four with watery eyes, filled with tears, a baby growing in her flat stomach which was just starting to show in a little bump that no one could see. She was actually wearing clothes for once. She'd remembered reading a few years ago that direct sunlight was bad for babies. So she'd slipped into a shirt and a pair of shorts, just in case.
A friend, not someone she'd considered close before but the only person she had now, had suggested aborting the baby. She'd immediately baulked at the suggestion and then she didn't really have anymore friends after that either. She'd slapped the shit out of the idiot woman and walked away.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed the dramatic and attractive man until he'd barked at her. She jerked to a stop and looked up at him, blinking back the tears that were welling in her blue eyes.
"I do. Can I help you? Are you lost?" She asked softly, head tilting. A person who hadn't spent so much time on their back as her might have recognized the man, but not Gray.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 26, 2014 5:33:49 GMT
If it was even possible, the man's eyes squinted even further, the lids of his eyes brushing each other as he took in the clearly upset woman. Emotions were an idea that he never truly grasped, and he was often insensitive to people who were struggling simply because he couldn't be bothered to delve into the subject. Whipping his index finger, he commanded, "Don't cry," following that up with tilting his limb towards the distance, stating, "It's cold, and I'm starving." Arching his brows, he waited for her to act on his aide as if it was expected. As if, no, it was totally expected. Ronin was pampered, and on top of that just didn't quite understand the standards of communication. He got to the point to never waste time. This isn't saying he had absolutely no level of humanity and walked around like a droid, because he every once in a while did have that realization of 'oh my god, this hurts'.
He just wasn't capable of acting to anything how a normal subject would, it was always over done and over analyzed.
Lips in a stern pout, he glanced the girl up and down, not getting how someone with the looks she had could be so upset. That was another thing about the aging man, he was terribly blunt, but luckily now he didn't have anything to say on the matter. He just wanted to get inside of some diner and relax. This break wasn't turning out the way he wanted it to.
Eyebrows arched as she reminded silent, he was slowly losing what little patience he had. Ronin didn't have all day, threw were things to be done. Information to be learned.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2014 1:58:27 GMT
Gray tilted her head at the unexpected and blunt words from the man. Don't cry. She wanted to say it wasn't that easy but she realized that it was. She wasn't going to mope around because she had no family, no real friends despite being so popular on the party scene, and no money. She'd decided to keep her baby and she was going to live with those consequences. She smiled up at the man, nodding her head.
"Alright, no tears." She said back simply and then watched as he pointed into the gray haze over the ocean and the district. It was the season of storms and they were rolling in on gray fog every morning and every night. Soon the beach would be flooded by raindrops and the sky would be ablaze with lightning. It wasn't the best of times to be visiting the tourist spot. Most people came in the summer when the weather was temperate and more pleasant. People usually tried to keep away from the frighteningly intense storms that raged over the district this time of year. Gray though felt like there was a certain dangerous beauty in the storms.
She nodded and tucked her arms through his, always a fan of touch. She tugged him towards the district, planning to take him to a cozy little cafe that she loved. She lead him away from the cold, darkness, of the beach.
"Well let's go then. I'm Gray Upton."
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