District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
None
Occupation:
Thrift Shop Employee
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Wallflower
Last Online:
Apr 19, 2018 13:46:05 GMT -7
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Post by Stitch Mitten on Nov 1, 2017 11:44:48 GMT -7
Stitch had allowed himself time to think and most importantly he cried. He had been crying a lot when the sadness arise. It wasn't all the time that he allowed the tears show. Stitch felt emotions strongly. It was hard for him when he saw Denim in those passing days. When he wasn't in the presence of the ginger headed jerk then Stitch found it a little easier to fake it. In front of others like Jeanie and his family all seemed fine on the surface. Meanwhile a storm began to rage inside Stitch and tonight their would be lighting. Stitch had done a lot of crazy things in his life. This would be somewhere in the top ten at the very least. It wasn't hard to find Denim's house. He had been their many times years ago. The layout of it wasn't all their but Stitch remembered where his old friend slept. He brought the ladder his father used when fixing the roof and managed to get past peacekeepers unscathed. The half a glass of homemade hooch he drank was just the encouragement he needed. Setting up the ladder outside Denim's window wasn't the hard part. The hard part was each step going up the damned thing to reach the window. Every step he took it felt like he had weights pulling his ankles. Finally he was at the top of the ladder, dark brown eyes looked through the window at Denim's room. Stitch had gone to far to leave now. "Denim! Denim! O-" Be began to say in a hushed tone before his torso pushed the window door open. Why didn't Denim keep his windows locked? Maybe it was broken. Stitch cursed softly under his breath as he entered Denim room through the now open window. Denim R. Wolfe
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
Occupation:
Warehouse Manager in Training
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Loner
Last Online:
Jul 9, 2018 20:24:11 GMT -7
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Post by Denim R. Wolfe on Nov 1, 2017 20:06:22 GMT -7
Den wished his mother goodnight. Thankfully, his father was working late so he didn't have to be yelled at for once. He walked to his room, turning off all the lights as he went. It had begun to rain slightly outside and he hoped that the rain would turn into a storm. He always slept better when it stormed outside. To many people, storms were chaotic and destructive, but to Den, they were peaceful. He opened the door to his room, the room still dark, and heard a clatter from the window. He grabbed the bat that stood behind the door and reared it back, "who are you!?" He flipped the light switch on and saw Stitch standing in his room. Den's eyes widened with shock, how did he get up here!? But then horror struck him. Den quickly flipped off the lights. Even though his room was at the back of the house, there were other houses and buildings that faced his window. What if someone saw Stitch in his room? He put down the bat and closed the door, locking it. And then quickly made his way to Stitch. "Are you out of your mind!?" he hissed in the darkness. Den couldn't risk anyone seeing Stitch through the window, but he couldn't stand not being able to see either. He walked to his night stand and turned on the lamp, then closed sheer curtains wishing he had something that was thicker. WC: 244 TAG: Stitch Mitten
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
None
Occupation:
Thrift Shop Employee
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Wallflower
Last Online:
Apr 19, 2018 13:46:05 GMT -7
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Post by Stitch Mitten on Nov 2, 2017 4:55:17 GMT -7
Stitch's body stiffened up at the sound. He looked up forward his dark brown eyes adjusting to the rooms lack of light. A smile slowly crept over the young mans face as a ginger silhouette was armed. "Your best friend.. or at least I used to be" His voice sounded more snarkier then he expected. Then the lights were flicked on and Stitch's world became a little brighter. A smile could be seen on his face as he had his hands up like he was under arrest but one hand began a little friendly wave. Then the lights turned off again and Stitch was in the dark again. Stitch opened his mouth to say something anything but nothing came out. Instead he watched Denim go and close the window with curtains. Stitch was quiet as he moved toward the bed and sat down on the side. "I specifically remember you doing something similar to me when you were younger" his voice was serious on the memory of the night Denim came to him. His friends back had been bruised and it was all scary for Stitch. He felt helpless and unable to help Denim.. similar to how he felt with this disintegrating friendship. "This is just as comfortable as I remember Deni." It had been a long time since Stitch had uttered those playful words. A friendly nickname from Stitch much like the way he called Jean Jeanie Beanie when the time arises. The teen leaned back on the bed exhaling a sigh of relief allowing his muscles to relax. "We need to talk.. I don't believe you about not careing" He bit his lower lip. Denim R. Wolfe
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
Occupation:
Warehouse Manager in Training
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Loner
Last Online:
Jul 9, 2018 20:24:11 GMT -7
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Post by Denim R. Wolfe on Nov 2, 2017 11:12:13 GMT -7
Den didn't turn around when Stitch spoke. He did remember going to his room that night after his father had beaten him so bad. He remembered how it felt to be bruised, beaten, broken. He would never forget that night and how Stitch had been there for him. And that was why he did what he had to do. Den's life was chaos and the secret of the family weighed him down. He couldn't allow Stitch to be a part of that. His brother had died and he moved on. Going back to all of that, it would just open the wounds back up again. Den looked down at his feet, at the plush carpet that he stood on. Then he turned around and faced Stitch. Den had everything and nothing at the same time. He winced when Stitch called him Deni. He hadn't been called that in such a long time. Den remembered the first time Stitch called him that when they were kids. He hated it so much, it made him feel like a little kid even though they were both the same age. Deni was a little kid's nickname, something like his aunts would call him when they pinched his cheeks. Instead of sitting on the bed, Den remained standing. "You can't just sneak into my room. That's called breaking and entering," he said, crossing his arms. He hadn't been in his room all day so the room felt cold and slightly drafty. WC: 247 TAG: Stitch Mitten
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
None
Occupation:
Thrift Shop Employee
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Wallflower
Last Online:
Apr 19, 2018 13:46:05 GMT -7
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Post by Stitch Mitten on Nov 2, 2017 11:43:48 GMT -7
Stitch had slipped off his shoes allowing his feet to touch the plush carpet. If he wasn't wearing socks then he would have felt the carpet on his toes but alas he was. Denim hasn't answered Stitch's question but that was alright for him because they had all nights. Lazily his dark brown eyes scanned the walls and the furniture getting a weird sense of nostalgia from it all. "Yes I can. Unless you get the peacekeepers involved.." The words felt heavy almost like a threat but in reverse. Stitch shook his head slowly before the faintest of smiles showed. "No you wouldn't do that. You would if you didn't truely care.." Stitch said looking Denim in the eyes with each word. Looking for any sign of emotion or feeling. It was frustrating hoping for something that might be their or wasn't. "I don't think you could bare seeing me like that.. bruised and bleeding.. it bring back bad memories." The young man sighed at his final point before he got up from his seat. Stitch reached out touching everything like a kid in a candy store. Allowing his finger tips to graze over the random things. It all was vaguely nostalgic and felt rather nice to do. "How do I get my old pal back huh?" He asked softly like it was a secret. Stitch even looked around as if checking for anyone else. "Denim please we should at least talk about it" Stitch offered as his hands reached out touching the others arms. Stitch wasn't aware of the effect a simple touch could.. to him he was simply taking Denims hands out of a crossed position and into one where his hand touched the others. "I have noticed a pattern that you run away and I cling on. Ironic isn't it?" He tried to cut the tension with a small joke even giving Denims arms a squeeze. Denim R. Wolfe
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
Occupation:
Warehouse Manager in Training
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Loner
Last Online:
Jul 9, 2018 20:24:11 GMT -7
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Post by Denim R. Wolfe on Nov 2, 2017 16:46:04 GMT -7
Den glared at him, Stitch was right. He had him cornered. He wouldn't call the Peacekeepers. He could, he could really do it right now. And then all of this, this dance they'd been doing, it would all be over once and for all. Maybe that was best. Just have a clean cut. But Den wouldn't do it because he knew what the Peacekeepers would do, he knew what his father would do. And after all of it was over and done with, Stitch would be better off dead. Because his father a secret to keep and a legacy to ensure. "Yeah, that's our pattern. But it has to stop, Stitch," he said. He wasn't sure how much longer he could do this because Stitch made things worse and he kept coming and he wouldn't stop until he got his answer, until he got the truth out of him. But Den couldn't tell him the truth without telling him the secret. The secret that buried him in his own grave six feet deep into the earth. "There's nothing to talk about. Okay? We're not friends, not anymore. So can you just stop now?" He said, almost begging him. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the way Stitch looked at him, like a sad puppy that he'd kicked away. Den hated doing this to him. But it was for the best. WC: 232 TAG: Stitch Mitten
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
None
Occupation:
Thrift Shop Employee
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Wallflower
Last Online:
Apr 19, 2018 13:46:05 GMT -7
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Post by Stitch Mitten on Nov 2, 2017 18:56:18 GMT -7
Stitch didn't like this dancing. It was the same push and pull between them and the music never stopped. Stitch would never give up on Denim at least not for now and it appeared Denim was equally as stubborn. So the dance continued on the tempo unchanged. "No. I don't believe we do" He looked at Stitch briefly before changing his gaze to another part of the room avoiding Denim's glare.
Another sigh escaped through his lips. This time more frustrated then cheerful. Stitch looked at Denim once he said those words again. Why did he have to say it? Saying it out loud only made it more believably sounding. "I.. can't... I refuse to give up on you Deni." A spat of emotion came up in the form of soft tears forming in his eyes. This was the curse that Stitch carried by being so touchy feely about things.
Stitch turned to face Denim. He paused finding the correct words for the actions to follow. If it was one thing to be the death of Stitch it would be either his impulsive nature or his persistence. "Fine. One thing though... I.." Stitch bit his lower lip before suddenly stepping closer to Denim closing the comfort zone and killing it. Before Stitch could stop himself their lips had met for what was a quick peck. Stitch felt like he had stuck in time for that brief moment. Unsurprisingly it was just as his twelve year old self had predicted more or less without cooties. "Have always wanted to do that." Stitch didn't smile or speak instead he tried to move himself past Denim toward the window again. Stitch felt embarrassed by his actions. They were uncalled for.. so uncontrolled and yet it felt so nice? This all was so complicated
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
Occupation:
Warehouse Manager in Training
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Loner
Last Online:
Jul 9, 2018 20:24:11 GMT -7
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Post by Denim R. Wolfe on Nov 2, 2017 19:54:32 GMT -7
Den didn't miss the way his eyes glistened, the tears forming. He looked away, he didn't like to see Stitch cry or be so hurt. And he was doing this. He cared about him, and if he couldn't let himself break down the walls that prevented him from truly living his life, he could love him in that special way that he'd always wanted to. That he'd always felt was the right thing to feel when he was around Stitch. He shook his head, "There's nothing to give up on. I'm fine, I just don't want to be your friend, Stitch. I know it's hard to understand, but I just don't." He hoped his coldness would make Stitch leave. That it would be enough to get through to him. When he got up and sounded like he had given up and was going to leave, Den sighed. Good. Stitch had gotten the message. He would leave. This time at least. He looked up at him, "what..." Then the gap between them was completely smothered out when Den felt Stitch kiss him, their lips meeting for the first time ever. Den didn't move, he was frozen by shock. He'd imagine this happening numerous time before and in many different ways. One of those ways was sometime in the future, when this was all over and Den finally allowed himself to confess. Stitch forgave him and they kissed as the snow fell around them. Den was back in his room, Stitch's lips pulling away before he could stop him. His breath caught inside his throat, he wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. Then all too soon, Stitch was leaving. Should he stop him. Should he let him go? A part of him wanted to call out. A part of him wished that Stitch wasn't here, that he never came. His head swirled with so many thoughts, but one voice was clear inside his head. It screamed and yelled and kicked, needing to be heard. It yelled over and over and over. Wait. But nothing came out. Den stood there in the middle of his room, watching his once best friend, his still love, leave once more. WC: 369 TAG: Stitch Mitten
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District 8
Bisexual
16 Years Old
Relationship:
None
Occupation:
Thrift Shop Employee
HG Status:
Not Signed Up
Wallflower
Last Online:
Apr 19, 2018 13:46:05 GMT -7
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Post by Stitch Mitten on Nov 4, 2017 9:34:28 GMT -7
It wasn't uncommon to see Mitten or two in the Underground Market. Quilter, Stitch's father hated the idea of his children in the company of undesirables. Unfortunately for him it was the reality of their world. Their mother had given the list of items to look for to Sew and she brought Stitch with her. Perhaps it was the best choice between her options. Stitch was charismatic like his twin but in different ways and together surely no one could deny their tongues of steel.
He was at a binder trying to sell him some peacekeeper uniform. The sale was useless to Stitch unless he wanted to follow in his brothers footsteps. "The war is over. We need to mend the bond with the capitol." One of the same old mottos of his fathers. Obviously the salesmen didn't like it because his face scrunched up and the next words were unsavory. "You Mittens are all the same. Kiss asses" Stitch had moved away from this mans little stand. He wouldn't stand there and let his family name be downtrodden.. even if it was kind of true.
Stitch hadn't looked at where he was going. Before he knew what happen his shoulder made contact with something solid. "My pardon" That all too familiar imitation of a capitolites laugh expelled from the teens throats as his head turned to see who he had bumped it. "Oh.." He smiled a little as he usually did when he saw his ginger headed dance partner. "How are you doing?" He asked sincerely.. why make things more awkward after his burst of impulse.
Denim R. Wolfe
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