Professors that clearly don't care about what they're doing are the worst. Why even bother to keep teaching if you're just going to waste everyone's time? I'm glad you don't have to deal with that nonsense anymore.
mmidnight Member
Mhm.
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The one where your class didn't understand what was going on, or was that a different professor?
That's true. I'll probably talk to them, I'll just panic my way through it and hope they don't get mad at me, haha.
That sounds interesting, though! At least it's a subject you seem to like, you know? It's so hard to do things with an era that bores you to death.
That sounds interesting, though! At least it's a subject you seem to like, you know? It's so hard to do things with an era that bores you to death.
Yeah, you're probably right. I'm always just really anxious that people are going to be mad at me? Like, if I say I'm losing interest or I'm getting bored, I don't want them to take it personally. I never want to hurt any feelings, so I usually just put up with things that bother me and hope they'll get better.
Ooh, what about? Some non-fiction can be really interesting, it just depends on the subject and how it's written. I hope your project goes well though :3
Ooh, what about? Some non-fiction can be really interesting, it just depends on the subject and how it's written. I hope your project goes well though :3
I always feel bad. Especially when it's not anything that's like, really horrendous, you know? And I hate to come to someone and be like, bye because I'm bored. These threads started off fine but now it's just...ehhh. I leave them to the last minute all the time and that's just as bad.
Take your time, honestly! Three books? Ew ;c Good luck!
Take your time, honestly! Three books? Ew ;c Good luck!
No, probably not. It's just a few threads that I really wish would fizzle out? There's nothing really wrong with them but they just tend to go in a circle to matter what I try to do. Plus, I'm the one steering the story and the posts are just reactions to what happens instead of adding in anything new. And ofc, these would be active when the ones that I want to have activity have turned stagnant.
and I'm sure it will. Depending on when you post, I'll probably get you something tonight because at least replying to you is fun.
and I'm sure it will. Depending on when you post, I'll probably get you something tonight because at least replying to you is fun.
Awesome! I'm also here and trying to work on some stuff but I'm bored by all of it >__>
The last hour in the penthouse had gone by way too quickly for Prim's liking. Before she knew it, she found herself and the others being carted downstairs and to a large hovercraft. The interior was sterile-looking, mostly metal and intimidating but the blonde found a seat and did her best to remain calm. The Games were really happening, the Capitol was going to steal parts of her that she would never get back, innocent that she wasn't ready to give away. In the end, Prim hoped to be able to say that all of this was worth it, that rebellion had given everyone a new world to live in with a bright future free of pain and oppression. Happiness was just on the other side of seven days, inches out of reach and all Prim had to do was stay alive to get there.
“Your arm,” a woman dressed in white demanded, interrupting her thoughts.
Prim's expression was skeptical, but she gave the woman her arm anyway and remembered that Katniss had said something about this at breakfast. The needle was much different from the ones used at the Reaping, and the blonde winced as the hollow metal pierced through her forearm. The tracker that now sat a few centimeters beneath her skin was already glowing to life and the blonde reached out to touch a finger to it as the hovercraft lifted off into the sky. The sudden movement was jarring, and Prim reached for the gold jewelry that was tucked beneath her uniform—Effie had been kind enough to turn Gale's gift into something wearable. They all had something from home now and District 12 finally felt like a real team.
In no time at all the hovercraft touched down at its location, and the tributes inside were being herded away from one another. The next time that Haymitch would see anyone would be inside the arena, but he looked for Katniss first as Peacekeepers took them in opposite directions. “I'll see you in there,” he called to her before roughly being jerked away and lead forward, much deeper into the holding area. The former Victor remembered this all too well, the waiting game that was the real nightmare, solitary and cut off from anyone else for hours before the Games finally began.
The holding area was just as Haymitch had remembered it, and he wasn't surprised that the Capitol hadn't sprung for something more than a makeshift bed and blank walls. All of the nerves that he felt from the night before and into the morning were slowly turning to anger. Over the course of the last month, Haymitch had let his emotions get the better of him only a handful of times, but he hadn't been furious and vengeful since the announcement of the Quarter Quell all the way back at the end of winter. He wanted Snow to pay for this, he wanted everyone to see what a fragile system the Capitol kept and he wanted everyone back home and in each impoverished district he'd visited over the years to be brave enough to rebel. All he had to do was keep Katniss alive—it wouldn't be hard, and he'd already done it from a distance the year before.
Waiting felt like years, but eventually, another pair of Peacekeepers had come for him. Walking between them, Haymitch was lead to another, smaller room and he knew the drill from years ago. Stepping onto the platform, he steeled himself for the upcoming bloodbath and didn't flinch away from the watchful eyes of the men in front of him as a crystal clear descended around him. In less than ten seconds, he was pushed to the surface and squinted into the slightly overcast sky. Craning his neck, Haymitch quickly looked around—there were dilapidated buildings, some in better conditions than others and a large tower that sat stretched on top of the cornucopia. Its mouth was wide and full of deadly weapons, their blades and blunt edges sharp and waiting to be put into the frightened hands of those around him. Both tributes new and old wore the same look, total fear underneath a crumbling mask of determination.
Just as Haymitch suspected, the order was random but he found Katniss easily enough. They were six people apart, but Haymitch made sure to catch her eye even as Gloss gave him a sickening smirk. With Peeta's words in mind, he looked around for Gale and Prim as well, but the two were nearly at opposite ends of the circle, while both Finnick and Johanna were closer. Up ahead, the timer began to count down and Haymitch crouched on the platform, feet behind him and ready to push himself into a sprint for one of the axes that were just barely inside the cornucopia. His nerves were alive and shaking, but the former Victor knew better than to start early. Almost every year, some overeager tribute got themselves blown up, and Haymitch was better than a premature death.
The clock had reached zero, and the 75th Hunger Games began with a bang, and the sound of forty-eight scrambling feet hitting the rocky surface as they sprinted toward backpacks and weapons. Prim ran as fast as she could, her mind on the knives she had been told not to go for. The thought of not having a weapon was still terrifying, and the blonde was willing to brave the bloodbath if it meant making the next seven days easier. All around her, people were flailing, constant movement and thick sprays of blood as the careers began to mow down the less fortunate, weaker tributes who hadn't made a run for it. Turning back would have been a death sentence.
Somehow, after nearly tripping over the body of the girl from 8, Prim made it into the cornucopia. Her hands were trembling with adrenaline as she reached for a set of familiar throwing knives and then frantically looked for someone familiar. The only person she saw, however, was a small redhead, the girl that Peeta hadn't saw as worthy of saving and the person she had spent half of training with during her first day. “Iva!” she called out, and attempted to grab the girl from the sword of Golden, the new male from 1. The blade sliced through the young girl's back and popped out of her chest with enough force to splatter the side of Prim's face with warm blood. Iva's eyes were wide with surprise; she'd never seen it coming.
Prim thought that she was going to be sick and for a moment too long, she was frozen in place. Her hesitation earned her a hard shove to the ground from the boy from 2, followed by a tight hand around her throat. The blonde struggled, coughing as she kicked her legs and struggled to find a way up. Her fingers grappled over the ground, hands reaching for a nearby rock and her actions seemed to be on autopilot, an instinct to survive as she swung the rock in her hand. The stone connected with the boy's temple and Prim's fingers came away covered with a viscous warmth. She didn't even take the time to look at him before she raced to her feet and spotted Gale just outside the shadow of the cornucopia with a backpack and a sword, fighting off a girl with a javelin.
Haymitch was in the thick of things, exactly where he hadn't wanted to be twenty-five years ago, but this time, the stakes were much higher. He managed to meet up with Katniss faster than he thought he would, and he appreciated how fast she could run when she got to the only bow first. Somewhere in the fray, Johanna tossed him one of several axes, and it was just in time for Brutus to come for him with a heavy sword. Haymitch used the handle to block the blade from slicing through the top of his head as bodies fell around him to the left and the right. The sound of metal clashing against itself was loud enough to drown out everything else and with one final kick, Haymitch had the upper hand over his enemy from the second district. He wasted no time burying the blade of his ax into Brutus' chest and gave the handle a hard tug to dislodge it from the man's blood-covered chest.
Weapons in-hand, Haymitch knew that it was time to hide. He saw Gale and Prim running toward a thicket of trees and tall grass beyond the line of buildings that surrounded the radio tower and staying together was still a priority. “Come on!” he called to Katniss, reaching for her hand to pull her away from the fray. He let go so that they could run, and on the way, Haymitch grabbed the last forgotten and trampled-over backpack. Whatever was in there, he just hoped that it wasn't crushed.
The terrain was uneven and soft beyond the buildings, and it got more muddy the further they went. Soon enough, the sound of death and destruction could no longer be heard, and the wheat-colored grass was a tall enough cover. Breathing heavy, Haymitch pushed the weeds aside and was glad to see Katniss's pretty face. In a place so void of happiness, she was a breath of fresh air. “Worst's over,” he said, shifting his feet around so that he didn't sink deeper into the damp ground. “Let's find a dry spot and check out what's in the backpack.” Gale and Prim couldn't have been far off.
Although there were forty-six other people somewhere in the arena, the area was expansive and it was easy to feel completely alone after breaking away from the cornucopia. With the radio tower now a dot in the distance behind them, Prim had been running toward a small clump of trees on the other side of a narrow stretch of water. The boots on her feet kept her skin dry as she and Gale tromped through the muddy wetlands, their progress slow but eventually worth it. After being choked, Prim's windpipe felt sore and nearly crushed, and she rubbed at her neck as she braced her back against the thin but sturdy trunk of a tree. In that moment, she was just happy to be alive and unable to think of much else besides where Katniss had ended up—the blonde could only hope that she was with Haymitch, or Finnick. Despite what Peeta said, she still didn't trust Johanna.
“You got one,” Prim breathed her praise, nodding toward the backpack slung over Gale's shoulder. Water in a canteen would have been a nice surprise after such a long and terrifying run. Straightening up, the blonde looked around the expansive area, seeing that it stretched on for miles. From what she could see, there was no hill around to get a better look, but the tree looked stable enough for her to climb. After all, she was much lighter than Gale. “We need to find Katniss.”
“Your arm,” a woman dressed in white demanded, interrupting her thoughts.
Prim's expression was skeptical, but she gave the woman her arm anyway and remembered that Katniss had said something about this at breakfast. The needle was much different from the ones used at the Reaping, and the blonde winced as the hollow metal pierced through her forearm. The tracker that now sat a few centimeters beneath her skin was already glowing to life and the blonde reached out to touch a finger to it as the hovercraft lifted off into the sky. The sudden movement was jarring, and Prim reached for the gold jewelry that was tucked beneath her uniform—Effie had been kind enough to turn Gale's gift into something wearable. They all had something from home now and District 12 finally felt like a real team.
In no time at all the hovercraft touched down at its location, and the tributes inside were being herded away from one another. The next time that Haymitch would see anyone would be inside the arena, but he looked for Katniss first as Peacekeepers took them in opposite directions. “I'll see you in there,” he called to her before roughly being jerked away and lead forward, much deeper into the holding area. The former Victor remembered this all too well, the waiting game that was the real nightmare, solitary and cut off from anyone else for hours before the Games finally began.
The holding area was just as Haymitch had remembered it, and he wasn't surprised that the Capitol hadn't sprung for something more than a makeshift bed and blank walls. All of the nerves that he felt from the night before and into the morning were slowly turning to anger. Over the course of the last month, Haymitch had let his emotions get the better of him only a handful of times, but he hadn't been furious and vengeful since the announcement of the Quarter Quell all the way back at the end of winter. He wanted Snow to pay for this, he wanted everyone to see what a fragile system the Capitol kept and he wanted everyone back home and in each impoverished district he'd visited over the years to be brave enough to rebel. All he had to do was keep Katniss alive—it wouldn't be hard, and he'd already done it from a distance the year before.
Waiting felt like years, but eventually, another pair of Peacekeepers had come for him. Walking between them, Haymitch was lead to another, smaller room and he knew the drill from years ago. Stepping onto the platform, he steeled himself for the upcoming bloodbath and didn't flinch away from the watchful eyes of the men in front of him as a crystal clear descended around him. In less than ten seconds, he was pushed to the surface and squinted into the slightly overcast sky. Craning his neck, Haymitch quickly looked around—there were dilapidated buildings, some in better conditions than others and a large tower that sat stretched on top of the cornucopia. Its mouth was wide and full of deadly weapons, their blades and blunt edges sharp and waiting to be put into the frightened hands of those around him. Both tributes new and old wore the same look, total fear underneath a crumbling mask of determination.
Just as Haymitch suspected, the order was random but he found Katniss easily enough. They were six people apart, but Haymitch made sure to catch her eye even as Gloss gave him a sickening smirk. With Peeta's words in mind, he looked around for Gale and Prim as well, but the two were nearly at opposite ends of the circle, while both Finnick and Johanna were closer. Up ahead, the timer began to count down and Haymitch crouched on the platform, feet behind him and ready to push himself into a sprint for one of the axes that were just barely inside the cornucopia. His nerves were alive and shaking, but the former Victor knew better than to start early. Almost every year, some overeager tribute got themselves blown up, and Haymitch was better than a premature death.
The clock had reached zero, and the 75th Hunger Games began with a bang, and the sound of forty-eight scrambling feet hitting the rocky surface as they sprinted toward backpacks and weapons. Prim ran as fast as she could, her mind on the knives she had been told not to go for. The thought of not having a weapon was still terrifying, and the blonde was willing to brave the bloodbath if it meant making the next seven days easier. All around her, people were flailing, constant movement and thick sprays of blood as the careers began to mow down the less fortunate, weaker tributes who hadn't made a run for it. Turning back would have been a death sentence.
Somehow, after nearly tripping over the body of the girl from 8, Prim made it into the cornucopia. Her hands were trembling with adrenaline as she reached for a set of familiar throwing knives and then frantically looked for someone familiar. The only person she saw, however, was a small redhead, the girl that Peeta hadn't saw as worthy of saving and the person she had spent half of training with during her first day. “Iva!” she called out, and attempted to grab the girl from the sword of Golden, the new male from 1. The blade sliced through the young girl's back and popped out of her chest with enough force to splatter the side of Prim's face with warm blood. Iva's eyes were wide with surprise; she'd never seen it coming.
Prim thought that she was going to be sick and for a moment too long, she was frozen in place. Her hesitation earned her a hard shove to the ground from the boy from 2, followed by a tight hand around her throat. The blonde struggled, coughing as she kicked her legs and struggled to find a way up. Her fingers grappled over the ground, hands reaching for a nearby rock and her actions seemed to be on autopilot, an instinct to survive as she swung the rock in her hand. The stone connected with the boy's temple and Prim's fingers came away covered with a viscous warmth. She didn't even take the time to look at him before she raced to her feet and spotted Gale just outside the shadow of the cornucopia with a backpack and a sword, fighting off a girl with a javelin.
Haymitch was in the thick of things, exactly where he hadn't wanted to be twenty-five years ago, but this time, the stakes were much higher. He managed to meet up with Katniss faster than he thought he would, and he appreciated how fast she could run when she got to the only bow first. Somewhere in the fray, Johanna tossed him one of several axes, and it was just in time for Brutus to come for him with a heavy sword. Haymitch used the handle to block the blade from slicing through the top of his head as bodies fell around him to the left and the right. The sound of metal clashing against itself was loud enough to drown out everything else and with one final kick, Haymitch had the upper hand over his enemy from the second district. He wasted no time burying the blade of his ax into Brutus' chest and gave the handle a hard tug to dislodge it from the man's blood-covered chest.
Weapons in-hand, Haymitch knew that it was time to hide. He saw Gale and Prim running toward a thicket of trees and tall grass beyond the line of buildings that surrounded the radio tower and staying together was still a priority. “Come on!” he called to Katniss, reaching for her hand to pull her away from the fray. He let go so that they could run, and on the way, Haymitch grabbed the last forgotten and trampled-over backpack. Whatever was in there, he just hoped that it wasn't crushed.
The terrain was uneven and soft beyond the buildings, and it got more muddy the further they went. Soon enough, the sound of death and destruction could no longer be heard, and the wheat-colored grass was a tall enough cover. Breathing heavy, Haymitch pushed the weeds aside and was glad to see Katniss's pretty face. In a place so void of happiness, she was a breath of fresh air. “Worst's over,” he said, shifting his feet around so that he didn't sink deeper into the damp ground. “Let's find a dry spot and check out what's in the backpack.” Gale and Prim couldn't have been far off.
Although there were forty-six other people somewhere in the arena, the area was expansive and it was easy to feel completely alone after breaking away from the cornucopia. With the radio tower now a dot in the distance behind them, Prim had been running toward a small clump of trees on the other side of a narrow stretch of water. The boots on her feet kept her skin dry as she and Gale tromped through the muddy wetlands, their progress slow but eventually worth it. After being choked, Prim's windpipe felt sore and nearly crushed, and she rubbed at her neck as she braced her back against the thin but sturdy trunk of a tree. In that moment, she was just happy to be alive and unable to think of much else besides where Katniss had ended up—the blonde could only hope that she was with Haymitch, or Finnick. Despite what Peeta said, she still didn't trust Johanna.
“You got one,” Prim breathed her praise, nodding toward the backpack slung over Gale's shoulder. Water in a canteen would have been a nice surprise after such a long and terrifying run. Straightening up, the blonde looked around the expansive area, seeing that it stretched on for miles. From what she could see, there was no hill around to get a better look, but the tree looked stable enough for her to climb. After all, she was much lighter than Gale. “We need to find Katniss.”
That's a good way to describe it, haha. I agree, though. I think when all is said and done (and man, is it going to take a while), they'll be fine and probably closer than ever. I actually think Prim and Gale's first major disagreement will be whether or not to go back to 12 after the rebellion is over. And although Haymitch already said he was never attached to the place, he'd be willing to be wherever Katniss wanted.
I know. I really liked those reruns. I like Kelsey's Essentials (I think it's called, with the little blonde girl?) and The Real Girl's Kitchen wiiith Hilary Duff's sister. And I also used to watch Chuck's cooking show all the time, but I don't think it's on anymore. If it is, I can never find it. I wish more people cooked too :c It's a shame they don't, but some people just aren't interested in it.
and I totally fell asleep on you last night before I could text back. I suck ;n; but I have one thing to do before ours. In all of the progress I made yesterday, I totally missed one of my threads because I'm apparently blind.
I know. I really liked those reruns. I like Kelsey's Essentials (I think it's called, with the little blonde girl?) and The Real Girl's Kitchen wiiith Hilary Duff's sister. And I also used to watch Chuck's cooking show all the time, but I don't think it's on anymore. If it is, I can never find it. I wish more people cooked too :c It's a shame they don't, but some people just aren't interested in it.
and I totally fell asleep on you last night before I could text back. I suck ;n; but I have one thing to do before ours. In all of the progress I made yesterday, I totally missed one of my threads because I'm apparently blind.
I think they're close-ish now, but the lie is definitely going to cause some lasting friction, imo. Although 12 getting bombed is sure to bring them back together, I don't think their relationship is going to be the same afterward. I think they'd be more scared of losing each other after losing their mother like that. Especially Prim who was a lot closer with her than Katniss was. But (typing out loud) maybe never getting closure with her mom will also hurt Katniss a bit as well.
Right? It's all competition shows and it's just so bad. I can't tell you the last thing that I watched on there. Sometimes I'll watch The Cooking Channel, though. It's a lot better than TFN still. I'm a shitty baker, tbh. I don't have the patience for it and the most I do is a pie for Thanksgiving and cheesecake for Christmas. Sometimes I'll do a birthday cake for a friend, but it's only if they ask me. Too much measuring. I used to want to be a chef, but I think if I made a career of it, I would hate it. I'd rather keep it a hobby.
and I'm about to go to bed too. You can text me if you want to, ofc <3
Right? It's all competition shows and it's just so bad. I can't tell you the last thing that I watched on there. Sometimes I'll watch The Cooking Channel, though. It's a lot better than TFN still. I'm a shitty baker, tbh. I don't have the patience for it and the most I do is a pie for Thanksgiving and cheesecake for Christmas. Sometimes I'll do a birthday cake for a friend, but it's only if they ask me. Too much measuring. I used to want to be a chef, but I think if I made a career of it, I would hate it. I'd rather keep it a hobby.
and I'm about to go to bed too. You can text me if you want to, ofc <3
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