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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Aug 14, 2018 13:15:16 GMT -5
yo anyone wanna do this plot with me?? we can brainstorm and come up with more ideas as we go along, all i ask is that you type around 700 words per post on average and aren't too picky about activity b/c i want this to be a long term thing and not a 'you have to post once a day or i get bored' kind of thing so if you're chill with all that, lemem know! <33
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It is the First Quarter Quell. The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games since the Dark Days. This is the untold story of the Failed Rebellion. Both Character A and Character B are over twenty years old; their names cannot be reaped, and they were lucky enough to escape in previous years. They are best friends, they both work with wood in some form in District Seven, they both have younger siblings to take care of. But you will not find two people so different from the other in all of Panem. Character A is a feisty, outspoken, pugnacious leader, while Character B is a quiet, uncertain, patient follower. Character A is a source of bravery for Character B, and B is source of calm for A. Much like the sun and the moon, they balance each other, until the time of the Reaping, when Character A gets word of a rebellion. They want to join immediately, they want to end the torture the Capitol is subjecting people to by making them watch their children fight to the death. Character A wants B to help them oppose the Peacekeepers, and ultimately be part of the larger plan set to stop the 25th Hunger Games from happening, especially when they hear that this time, the Games will be special in some way. However, Character B doesn't really believe the rumors of a rebellion until they stumble upon a meeting of rebels in the woods, and they both have to make a decision that may change the course of history.
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so obviously this is just the gist, the beginning of a plot, but i would love to come up with more detailed plans with someone! please note i only do mxf when it comes to romance, and i would prefer to roleplay character B as a male, but if you wanna change stuff, just ask, i don't bite
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Aug 18, 2018 16:48:43 GMT -5
guess i should bump this up huh
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 18, 2018 18:06:50 GMT -5
(Okay this sounds awesome...I’m reluctant to join yet another rp but this looks awesome I think I might have to make an exception.)
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Aug 18, 2018 19:37:06 GMT -5
yo i'm so glad you think so i know we've tried to roleplay together one on one and life always got in the way but i'm the chillest person you'll ever meet when it comes to activity b/c i'm so bad at responding unless it's summertime lol so no worries as long as you don't mind waiting a while for my posts at times, i know this year is supposed to be extremely study-heavy b/c i'm learning all the stuff about how to actually do my job when i graduate xD so i will be preoccupied with that much of the time i'm so glad you're making an exception i really like this plot but have never gotten anywhere with it so we can brainstorm or just kind of go for it and come up with stuff along the way, whatever you wanna do <33
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 19, 2018 1:42:31 GMT -5
(Awesome! Yeah next year is going to be study-heavy for me too, last year before university, so yeah. Okay awesome well is there anything you think definitely should get ironed out before we start or do you think everything can be done alone the way?)
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Aug 19, 2018 14:12:01 GMT -5
not much on my end, except to make sure you're okay with roleplaying Character A as female?? I think if something comes up we can deal with it along the way, but if you have any ideas right now, lemme know
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 19, 2018 14:34:33 GMT -5
Yeah I’m fine with it x I even have a girl in mind ![:)](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/lNtnPuxeCzkaKMNYVXVv.gif) )
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Aug 19, 2018 14:37:54 GMT -5
sweet! i've got to reply to someone else's thread before i do this starter, so don't wait for me lol i probably won't even finish it today, i've got packing to do
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 19, 2018 14:48:29 GMT -5
(Okay no problem x I’ve got replies on another rp to do x Oh are you going on holiday? Have fun!)
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Aug 28, 2018 8:45:04 GMT -5
so sorry it's been a long time, i've actually been moving into school and classes started yesterday so i'm kind of tired. not swamped with work yet tho so that's good. i do intend on doing this though as long as you don't mind waiting some time for a reply ;o;
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 1, 2018 9:11:44 GMT -5
Hi! Sorry it’s been a while on my part too I haven’t been overly active the last few days x I have no problem waiting)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 16, 2018 3:04:58 GMT -5
Oh gosh I forgot to actually ask did wou wanna do forms for our characters or anything? Just thought about that)
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Sept 16, 2018 9:28:49 GMT -5
nah i'm not really feeling up to doing anything like that but by all means pls feel free. if you do one i will probably do one too, but i'm not going to make it necessary. i will try to get a starter up this week rip
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 16, 2018 9:29:31 GMT -5
It’s no problem take your time! Well then I’ll not do that that’s okay I’m more than happy to describe though rp)
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Sept 30, 2018 22:13:30 GMT -5
[ imma just post the starter here that i finally finished cause i'm lazy lol maybe the mods will move the thread to 1x1 since idk how ]
The scent of damp fruitwood was potent, filling the air with a sweet, flowery aroma which reminded him of cherry-almond pastries. He could almost taste the buttery flakes of dough on his tongue. A speck of rain fell onto his cheek and made him look up. The canopy above his head was waning, scars of the cloudy sky slicing through the branches. Beneath his shoes, the earth was soft and supple, though he knew with this rain coming in, the forest floor would be nothing less than a muddy pond. It had been a week since the last rain, which in District Seven was something of a long time. Crystalline drops came in earnest, pelting the autumnal foliage above and dripping onto his head.
Irving bit back a sigh, his shoulder and hands aching as he pressed against the bark of the tree they were currently felling. His assigned job today, admittedly one of the easiest, was ensuring the tree leaned the way they wanted it to. One tree took just four of them. One with the axe, two with a rope, and one with his bare hands, who was essentially there as the last resort for if the man with the axe became fatigued, or the tree tipped erroneously. They were nearly there when the horn’s cry reached their ears, signalling a stop to every lumberjack group in the forest. The work ceased with a sigh and a silence that was interrupted only by the rain for a moment, until they started to gather up their gear and the wood that had already been cut throughout the morning. And it was only about 11, Irving guessed, but with the rain today and the Reaping tomorrow, the man in charge of their sector had decided to call them back early.
Irving’s boss was, in particular, an unlucky man. Born without a right forearm, then lost his right foot in an accident. George didn’t make many excuses when it came to work, and what caused him to cut the workday short now, however, was the Hunger Games. He had lost his only daughter to the tragedy when she was ten. It would be his fourth year without her in a few weeks. Irving couldn’t pretend he hadn’t tried to imagine the pain the man was going through. He did, in fact, fear that he would soon know. It was a gut-wrenching feeling, more violent than some gentle butterflies in his stomach.
His mind was adrift as they packed up and began the trek back to the district. He knew that his sister’s name was only one of many that could be drawn tomorrow, but hers was the only one that mattered, and the only one he didn’t want to hear. If he heard any other name, he would be able to go on with his life like everyone else would. But if that pompous rat of a person said his sister’s name at the Reaping, Irving could imagine he would be a lot like George. Half-there. Living physically, but mentally, not so much.
His feet followed the trail they knew so well, walking in step with the others. As they plodded along with their wheelbarrows full of logs, the rain came on with more fervor. Puddles gathered quickly, rearing like a bear and spitting up at their legs when they were trod upon or cut through the middle. There was near no din of voices as they walked, eyes downcast until they cleared the forest. Muscle memory took them to the long shed-like building where they deposited their tools and took stock of the harvest. They checked back in with the warehouse manager, giving their fingerprints before he waved them off, and they headed for home. The sky was, as Irving stepped out into the open air again, a bluish gray like a heron’s feathers. The cobblestone streets were already dark and flooded with a thin layer of rainwater as he walked. He took the long way, through winding side streets and empty alleys between dirty white buildings. He walked alone for the most part, stalling for time, occasionally passing a woman or a wet dog scurrying for cover.
His chosen path took him through the heart of the district to the main square, where he could already see a crowd had gathered. For a moment, panic flared in his chest as his heart stumbled over itself. Today wasn’t the Reaping. What was going on?
Ving quickened his pace until he reached the edge of the crowd. Peering over the soaked heads, he saw the stage was set for a hanging. He swore under his breath and began pushing through as politely as he could to see who it was on the raised platform. At the same time, he was searching the sea of people around him in his periphery, knowing a commotion like this would draw in his best friend like a shard of metal to a magnet. She would want to know exactly what was going on and why, and if there was anything she could do to prevent someone from losing their life.
The atmosphere was charged, though whether it was from the black clouds above them or what was about to happen in the middle of the square, he didn’t know. As Ving approached, he saw with a shudder that he recognized the man in the middle with the noose around his neck, calmly waiting for his fate. Ving’s throat tightened and he had to look away, focusing on something else.
There she was. Ving shuffled his way over to her, placing a light hand on her forearm so she would know it was him. When she turned to meet his gaze, he asked his standard silent question, are you okay? It came with the territory. He had to know, even if she didn’t answer verbally. He was afraid if he stopped asking, she would be suddenly not okay. It was his job to make things okay.
“Hey,” he said quietly. A few heads turned their way, shushing them with their stares. “What’s going on?” They both knew the man about to be hung was the most gentle spirit in the district; Johone was about 55, lived by himself, fed stray animals and children. For him to have broken a law was uncharacteristic and disconcerting. Ving glanced over at the white-clad soldier on the platform beside Johone, reading from a sodden piece of paper in a low voice that the crowd was straining to hear, muttering that they couldn’t hear the charges, which was even more nerve-wracking.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 1, 2018 0:52:21 GMT -5
Hey! I’ll get a reply up sometime today ![:)](//storage.proboards.com/6575102/images/lNtnPuxeCzkaKMNYVXVv.gif) )
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 1, 2018 2:41:26 GMT -5
(I hope this is long enough, I’m on mobile and I can’t tell how many words this is. I hope I got this right for you, if not just ignore the parts that aren’t right. Like what Jahone’s being executed for, I didn’t know how you’d like them to hear about the rebellion)
It was the year where they should almost be safe. The last year before Celosia and her family could finally relax. It was the last year that her little brother’s name could be drawn, and Celosia had always done everything she could to stop that from happening.
He was, for instance, not allowed to get tesserae by having his name entered more often. That had been Celosia’s job and, before that, her older sister’s. It had been hard in the few years since Celosia had stopped bringing in the extra food, but it was worth it that she was less likely to see his name pulled. She would not be able to watch that happen. She’d burn down every building in the Capitol before her brother competed in the Hunger Games.
The girl had spent the morning, much like Irving, working. Chopping some of the wood down into firewood had been her duties that morning, though they tended to vary. There weren’t many jobs the young woman couldn’t do in the forest, and she tended to switch roles often. But it seemed that the day before a reaping, everybody had sympathy for those with family members young enough to be drawn. Celosia and many others who had family had been able to leave from their shift early. It was a time for kindness when it grew close to the reapings. Kindness and understanding.
And there was a rumour going around that the reapings that would be taking place the next day were going to be somehow different. Celosia supposed it made sense; what better time than the 25 year anniversary of the rebellion to up the ante?
Celosia didn’t remember the rebellion, of course. She wasn’t born. Her older sister was born but still far too young to remember it. But Celosia had heard stories. From her parents, from almost any of the adults in the district. They all had stories to tell about the rebellion. Of course they didn’t always feel safe to tell some of them, what with peacekeepers roaming around.
Nobody seemed safe from anything anymore..
And so she was waking down cobblestone paths towards the centre of the district, past closely-placed houses, some of which were starting to fall apart. The houses here weren’t as bad as in some of the other districts, but not many had the money to actually repair their homes if they were damaged. The sky had been threatening rain all morning, but it had held off until about half an hour ago. The rain was still light yet, but the sky showed every sign that it was going to get heavier soon. She hoped to get home again before that happened.
But by the time she was approaching the square, the rain had begun to grow heavier as she had predicted. But it wasn’t the rain that had caught the woman’s attention.
A crowd was beginning to form around a podium or stage of some description and Celosia was desperate to get a closer look. Surely this wasn’t anything to do with the reaping? That wasn’t until tomorrow. They could be announcing something to do with the first Quarter Quell, but Celosia figured they wouldn’t do that until the next day, or at least wait until that evening. Something wasn’t right here.
That was when she caught sight of it. It was a scaffold; there was going to be a hanging. And as they brought the man out, Celosia’s eyes widened. She recognised him. A generally quiet, shy man.
Though Celosia had heard otherwise. If what she had heard was right, it seemed as if his activities had caught up with him.
The woman made a point of knowing everything that was happening in the district, keeping tabs on what was happening. It was the only way to stay in control these days. And Celosia needed to feel like she was in control even if she wasn’t. And she wasn’t really in control of anything.
She was relatively distinctive, she supposed. She was leanly muscled, not that that made her distinctive in District 7, and tall with brown eyes. But what made her most distinctive was her red hair, which she generally kept in a braid so it was out of her face. It wasn’t overly long either. Having long hair didn’t really serve anyone well who was working around axes.
She was aware suddenly of a hand on her shoulder and turned, smiling a little when she saw it was Irving, her best friend. Nobody really smiled much this close to the reaping.
She knew that look he was giving her, asking if she was alright. They gave that look to one another almost every time they talked. It was second nature now.
She gave him a little nod in answer to his question, and then looked at him with the same expression. She had to ask him now.
“I don’t know for sure,” she admitted, “but from what I heard, Jahone has been involved with some sort of underground group planning a rebellion.”
She was sad for the man, of course, because they knew him and he seemed kind, but there was a part of her that was excited by the idea of a rebellion. She had always wanted to get back at the Capitol, the peacekeepers. Make them pay for the children’s blood they had spilled.
If there was someone getting into trouble around the district, it was generally Celosia. The peacekeepers knew her well. But the people in the district liked her no less because of it, and some even liked her more. It was her own little form of rebellion, she supposed. Especially when she’d been younger and angrier and less drained by work. In recent years she had, admittedly, settled down a little. Lost her spark. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like it was back.
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Oct 1, 2018 11:09:50 GMT -5
[ yikes tat was fast omg i'm so sorry my responses aren't going to come the same but i will try my hardest to do once a week or once every two weeks ughh ]
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 1, 2018 11:13:57 GMT -5
It's okay this is a busy year for me at school so my responses might not be like this every time so don't worry)
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Oct 18, 2018 19:17:34 GMT -5
[ it's short but i didn't want to make you wait any longer and i've got a busy weekend so i'm not sure when i'll be able to reply next ]
The crowd was straining to listen, leaning forward, pushing Ving and Celosia closer to the edge of the ring of people around the scaffold. Even through rush of rain on the cobblestones, it soon became apparent that the peacekeeper was speaking in a low voice on purpose. He didn’t want them to hear what Johone had been convicted of, probably because it was nothing legitimate. Ving was squinting now to even see the platform through the veil of rain, let alone the two people a-top it. He wiped a hand over his eyes to clear his vision, but the cloud above the district had been squeezed like a sponge and was dousing the crowd, filling eyes and noses. Not for the first time, he wondered if it were possible to drown standing on solid ground. He wouldn’t be surprised if so.
Celosia looked up at him, mirroring his expression before she answered him. Her words sent a shiver up his spine more so than the storm around them. Of course she had heard something like that. She never failed to be informed. Ving, however, was always worried when there was talk of a rebellion. It seemed to him that these people were hoping for something to happen, and it never did. Celosia put her faith in those people, people who were complete strangers and she would believe anything they said if it meant something about the district would change. His fear was that she would always be disappointed, and this sounded no different from any other rumor, perhaps a little more far-fetched. Johone wasn’t the type of person to go waltzing around with a group that sounded devious to Ving.
He looked back at his best friend, setting his jaw and opening his mouth to warn her off of following this lead. It was just static like on the radio, it wouldn’t get her anywhere but into trouble. A twinge of doubt in his gut. There is no such group. Johone did something wrong. No rebellion. Ving was cut off when a man came from behind them and shouldered his way past Celosia, nearly running her over. Ving steadied her with a hand on her shoulder blade, frowning at the man.
“Careful where you’re going,” he told him, and the man glanced back at them for a moment, without stopping. Ving didn’t recognize the man, a hulking fellow who was almost shoving his way to the center of the crowd. Most voices dropped off as he drew everyone’s attention, and within seconds, he’d reached the platform. Above the rain, they could hear the man yell something along the lines of, “pick on someone your own size!” The peacekeeper had dropped his paper and was pointing a gun at the man, who kept walking, up the stairs to the scaffold. There was a commotion along the outer rim of the crowd as other peacekeepers began making their way to the middle to help their comrade.
It was difficult to say what made their approach so hazardous. The slick pavement, the sheer number of people in their way, or the fact that the people of District 7 were jostling about, purposefully slowing down the men in white. Ultimately, it wouldn’t matter. The peacekeeper on the platform needed no help pulling a trigger. The handgun went off with a vicious popping sound and the man who might have been Johone’s savior stumbled to his knees and keeled over, falling off the raised wooden platform to the cold, wet stone. The smoke from the gun dissipated as quickly as the peacekeeper could holster it in his belt once again. Ving felt more than saw the others’ reactions. It was like being stung by a bee. They were stunned.
A child began to cry. Ving turned to look for the source, but it was as if the sound of tears were another trigger itself. The frozen crowd was moved to action. The shining white suits of the peacekeepers disappeared beneath the soaked dark clothes of those that had decided to retaliate. Everyone else ran from the square, leaving only a handful of defensive citizens. Ving kept waiting for more gunshots, but surprisingly, none came. As the majority of the crowd cleared, it became apparent that the peacekeepers had been disarmed, pride bruised but bodies untouched. Except for the one man who had been shot, lying near the platform. Even from where he stood, Ving saw blood mixing with rainwater. Heroic last words, he thought, the callousness in his own mind making him wince. More like stupid last words.
The peacekeeper tasked with Johone’s execution had retrieved his paper, which he folded and tucked into his pocket. Even as Ving watched, the peacekeeper activated the lever that released the swinging door beneath the old man’s feet, and Johone fell just a few feet to his death with a sound that reminded Ving of a broken neck, though he knew it was just the rope stretching taut.
Ving took hold of Celosia’s arm gently, though she could feel his sense of urgency.
“We should get out of here,” he whispered to her. The small pockets of people that had disarmed the peacekeepers were gone with the weapons, and the peacekeepers were now on their feet, looking at stragglers to blame.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 19, 2018 16:02:51 GMT -5
(Okay so I replied cos I’m on break from school and it might be busy with revision and stuff so I don’t know if I’ll be able to reply so...
Also I made an rp profile for celosia hope you like her)
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 19, 2018 16:08:33 GMT -5
Celosia’s dark red hair was soaked with the rain, the tendrils that had come out of her braid limply hanging by her jaw. But she was far too focussed on everything else that was happening to even notice. She was looking at the crowd forming around the scaffold, pushing and shoving to be able to hear better, to the peacekeeper reading out the charges, to Jahone on the scaffold, to Ving. There was so much happening that she wasn’t even aware that she was sodden.
She could see in her friend’s eyes that he was worried about Celosia. And she supposed he was right to be. Celosia had only ever wanted another rebellion, a successful one this time. Injustice had always infuriated her ever since she had been a kid and she’d noticed how the governor of the district was so much richer than everyone else, ever since she’d seen Capitol fashion, ever since she was eleven and had been forced to take part in her first reaping. Since she’d watched her sister and brother go through reapings. And she pinned her hopes on something changing one day. She had since learned that the only way for this to happen was to make change happen herself, and she had been waiting for an opportunity to seize. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d convinced herself that just such an opportunity had come along.
As the man shoved past her and Ving, the girl was more than a little tempted to yell at him herself and tensed up, opening her mouth to angrily shout something when Ving beat her to it. It was probably better he had, anyway. She would have said something along the same lines only with a lot more swearing, probably. Celosia was not one for manners, after all.
But it didn’t matter because suddenly there was commotion and then a gunshot and crying from a little girl and yet more commotion. Everything had been fast and chaotic until time seemed to slow as her eyes followed Ving’s to the scaffold as she saw Jahone’s body drop and heard the sickening sound. The girl was jostled around in the chaos, in shock and furious at the injustice of what she was seeing, but also a little bit thrilled to see the people finally fighting back. It was finally happening.
But then she looked at the body on the ground. At what cost had this come? A man — two men — were dead.
This was not okay.
And suddenly Ving had her arm, and in her shock, her eyes had turned to him. Irving. The source of calm when she needed it. Whenever she felt lost or scared or angry he was always there like this. Whenever she needed him.
He was whispering something, telling her that they should leave. She bit her lip, reluctant to leave. She was fed to be part of this, she needed to be part of this. This could be the part of something. The opportunity she had been waiting so long for, to make real change, to take revenge. To do something about all of those years of suffering. To protect her little brother on the final year he could be reaped.
But then she looked over her shoulder at the peacekeepers, desperate to find somebody to blame for this whole thing. They could be arrested or worse. A whole lot worse. If they got blamed for this the consequences weren’t even worth thinking about. Just being here was tantamount to insurrection now. And while she was angry and wanted to take action, she knew Ving was right. Now wasn’t the time.
Not yet.
So she nodded, taking his hand and just starting to run, running as fast as her legs would carry her and knowing Ving would be keeping up. They had to get out of here and they had to do it fast.
She could hear a faint shout from one of the peacekeepers behind them and footsteps following and just ran harder. They had to keep going. Luckily, she’d grown up in this district and knew it better than most of the keepers, which meant she led Ving in zigzags, dodging through sidestreets in an effort to lose their pursuers.
Finally, though, when the sound of footsteps no longer rang on the cobbled streets behind them as they ran, she felt able to stop, leaning against a house and catching her breath. She was still soaking. Her mother would be furious with her coming home and tracking water into the house.
She was finally able to look at Ving, putting her head in her hands for a moment before she did so in order to process everything.
“This could be the start of something, Ving. Really it could. Something is happening, somehow big.”
She looked at him for a moment, pausing before she tilted her head inquisitively.
“Don’t you feel it? Something’s changed. We have to be part of whatever this is. We have to find out more”
He probably wouldn’t agree, but she just felt something. A pull. A magnetism that she couldn’t explain but she knew it was pointless trying to fight it. This was the real thing, the thing she’d been waiting for. She just knew.
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