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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jul 29, 2020 16:10:15 GMT -5
Clementine listened through Naida’s rant, channeling their inner ability to reflect and help. Now wasn’t the time to be snippy. Softly, they looked up at the stars, black hair falling in soft cascades over their head, ”As much as it hurts, we are not going to be missed. That’s why we’re here, because out there?” they didn’t gesture, they just inhaled to remain steady, ”Out there, we’re replaceable. Here, even though I don’t agree with it, we can be something. The best thing you can do with pain is get your mind off of it. If you continue to work, the pain will get worse and never better, if you focus on it, it’ll never go away. You truly forget by thinking about other things.”
They flickered their gaze to watch the people in the camp, fighting off a smile, ”And honestly, I think we need to train, but for tonight, we can at least live the childhoods we never got, right?” They questioned, ever-so-softly.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jul 29, 2020 16:14:10 GMT -5
Guinevere looked up when Jason prompted it. She was almost knocked back in the following moments, the sugary feeling of love was almost suffocating in it’s intensity. Even when the two left, she felt it warming her heart, radiating in a caccoon, pure and gentle and sweet.
She smiled ever so softly, glancing in the direction of the two boys and winking. She doubt they would catch it, but it was still there. However, her gaze flickered nearby, searching out other conduits thathad sparks of affection building.
Echo grinned at River, nodding, and waving to him, as she turned her atttention to Sanna. She went back to sketching, but this time, it wasn’t a scene nearby, it was two boys, hand in hand, looking out over a lake, with stars in the sky, but the boys had no eyes for the water or sky, only for one another.
The atmosphere was sweet, and she went to work on the sketch.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jul 29, 2020 16:22:43 GMT -5
Lorenzo had decided to quite moping, and instead set out to find more firewood.
At the camp, Luka fought off an internal panic. Naida’s outburst was understandable, in all reality. Luka caused so many issues, it was a painful fact. The crash, the runaways, this fire.
She didn’t realize how tense she was until she felt something warm drip down her back, and she patted her own back using her right arm, eyes narrowing at the small amount of scarlet that her fingers picked up. Of course her playing around would open up the cuts.
Wiping it off on her pants, she grinned at Kaz and Lucien, “So...while the loverboys go and have some fun, what do you suggest we do?” She liked the two boys rather well, Lucien was her age, and obviously did have a sense of humor, and Kaz was just as dramatic as Luka was. She had a few ideas on what to do, but she decided she caused enough ruckus already.
Pulling the collar of her sweater up, she played with the hem of a sleeve, thankful for the cloak of darkness, as she silently willed the flames to dull in their intensity, closing her eyes and concentrating on that thought. When she opened them, all that was left was a soft glow from the fire, and an intense sting from her shoulder, a reminder.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 29, 2020 17:56:05 GMT -5
Dionysus had been fairly quiet after muttering something about the bad weather and how he needed to find Ares so they could go talk to their father. Something which seemed strangely to coincide with the clearing sky. That was nice; not having someone in his head all the time helped him feel more like he and River were actually alone together.
When River leaned so close to him, Laurie could just feel his heart racing, and he was glad for the darkness and the cool starlight which was probably concealing at least a little of the blush on his cheeks.
He was so used to people being interested in him just because he looked cute and liked to party. Just a one-night stand kind of thing. He’d never had anybody interested in stuff like talking a walk around a lake with him, or sitting with him and looking at the stars
Talking of which, River had asked him a question, which Laurie should probably answer.
”Oh, well, my sister is really into science,” he explained ”now it’s biology and medicine, but when we were younger it was astronomy. She taught me a few constellations.” he explained
He still looked at River, but his eyes flicked down to the ground for a moment.
”There’s a word in my language that doesn’t have any English translation; dépaysement. It describes the fish-out-of-water feeling of being in a strange country you don’t know. I really thought being here was going to feel like that, but I really don’t. And quite a lot of that is because of you.”
River had been so friendly with him. So has everyone else, of course, but that wasn’t the point. River had joked around with him when they played Truth or Dare, and they’d talked plenty since they’d met. And he just felt so comfortable around River, like he could be himself and he wouldn’t judge him. He valued that feeling so much.
And Laurie couldn’t help but keep thinking about how close they were, and how much he couldn’t concentrate because he wanted to map every freckle on River’s face.
But then, his eyes flicked to River’s lips, and before Laurie even knew it he’d leaned in for a kiss. River still smelled of woodsmoke from the fire, and the cool night air, and holy shit what was he doing?
He pulled away from the kiss, an apologetic expression coming over his face. He didn’t even know for sure that River liked him, it was dumb of him to assume he did. And you didn’t just go kissing people if you didn’t know for sure that they felt the same way.
”I’m sorry, merde. I shouldn’t have done that.” he apologised
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Jul 29, 2020 19:47:01 GMT -5
He didn't know what to say to that. He'd been nothing but horrible since arriving at the Pantheon with the other kids. He had yelled at them, cursed at them, almost got into a fight with Lucien more than once, even threatened to leave. He thought he was a burden, especially as a leader.
But, then there was Echo, who looked to him for protection and was one of the few people that calmed him down. And then Laurie...
He wasn't expecting the kiss. He stilled when he felt Laurie's lips on his own and sat there wide-eyed. And when the other boy pulled away mumbling something about how he shouldn't have done that, River sat there blinking in shock. His heart beat against his chest in an uproarious fashion as he tried to gather his thoughts. And only one managed to get through.
Cupping Laurie's face in his hands, River pulled him back in a kiss. A soft kiss, but a longer than the first had been. Just to get his point across. Finally, when he pulled back, River sucked in a small breath and looked directly into those warm eyes.
"I like you," He said curtly. He didn't drop his hands from the other boy's face, he instead just sat there looking at him with a joyful look on his features. "I feel like that's obvious now but," He paused and looked down laughing to himself and what he was saying. "Ares is right I'm bad at this. I-I don't know how to explain it but, you make me feel important and seen. I don't have to fight for your attention because you just... care."
River dropped his hands and shifted so that he was fully facing Laurie. "So... yeah. I like you a lot."
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jul 29, 2020 22:27:32 GMT -5
Cleo snorted at Naida’s comment, ”Mind if I join you then? I’m not exactly known for being-“ well, likeable, fun, Cleo’s presence wasn’t exactly one people tended to like or want around them, but they didn’t think Naida would mind too much. ”I know I’m not exactly the most fun or enjoyable person, but I don’t see any point in going out there and trying to control them, and I don’t want to waste my time trying.”
They simply looked at Chiara, deciding to pat the area near them, if Naida allowed company, it would do good to show her that Naida didn’t need to be an idiot to make friends. If Cleo couldn’t pinpoint Irene clearly, they’d invite her too, and Dillon. It was wrong to pick favorites, but Cleo was especially fond of the particular group, rational, smart, but still unique.
Glancing at their hands after that, they tugged slightly at their hair, fretting over if it was laying well on their head, and if their eyeliner had been applied fine, worries that helped take them out of the situation at hand.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 30, 2020 5:16:09 GMT -5
HUNGER GAMES AU SNIPPET
Laurie sat with Guinevere and their team at the dinner table in the Tribute Centre; mentors, stylists, and their Capitol escort too. It was a pretty quiet dinner, which was unusual for them because normally after a day's training he and Guinevere wanted nothing more than to gossip about the other tributes.
But that day, Laurie's normal optimism and jocular nature seemed to be getting on the nerves of their mentor and escort, who clearly wanted to start planning for the Games and step up training.
"You know," the mentor said "if you could just take this seriously - if you could take just one thing in your life seriously - you might actually have a chance of getting out of this alive."
"Not to mention the fact that if you win-" the Capitol escort was starting to say, but was interrupted as Laurie rose to his feet, his plate and cutlery clattering as he did.
"Stop acting like I have a chance of winning!" he snapped "you know what my father said to me before I got on the train? He said District 8 might end up having two victors in a row. But he wasn't talking about me."
He looked meaningfully at Guiney there for a moment before settling his eyes back on his mentor and the Capitol escort.
"Excuse me."
With that he stepped away from the table, striding out of the room with his hands in his pockets.
It was only later that Guinevere found him out on the balcony. He was standing looking out over the city, his hands on the wall of the balcony. He glanced to see Guiney move to stand beside him, also looking out at the view.
"I'm sorry," Guinevere said after a long silence "about what your dad said to you, about what they said to you. It isn't fair."
Laurie looked at her and opening his mouth to say something before sighing, unable to find the right words. It took a moment of two before he knew what he wanted to say.
"They already see me as 'the mayor's boy'" Laurie explained "the one with the tough, sensible older sister who would have been ten times better in the Games than him. The one who has an easy life and doesn't have to worry about stuff like where his next meal is coming from, but just what he wears for the next gala, or when the next Capitol lackey visits."
Laurie had heard things when Capitol people came to visit. Conversations he wasn't supposed to hear, things he hated that he knew. The president had even visited his house once a few years back, and again months ago after Burton's victory tour, when he was sure he heard the president and Laurie's father talking about tracking Burton's family so the Capitol could keep tabs on them, even transferring ownership of all files and documents about Burton and his family to the Capitol, no doubt so the Capitol could make them disappear if they had to. As if they never existed. Laurie had heard enough dirty Capitol secrets to get him killed a hundred times over, but he knew better than to say anything.
But he was just the party boy, popular and fun-loving. Totally different in personality and demeanour from his sister. In reality, who did he have at home apart from Denise? A drunk father, a mother who didn't care. And people who showered him with attention only because they wanted the status that came with Laurie's family, or even just because they were curious about how he lived. Because he was fun and they thought he enjoyed the attention.
"It's a little too late for me to be taken seriously," he muttered bitterly.
But Guinevere just shook her head and gave him a soft smile, one that seemed slightly mischevious.
"it doesn't have to be that way."
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 30, 2020 16:36:06 GMT -5
Chiara had mainly continued to mind her own business with her book; she wasn’t willing to get involved with the drama of the others, which really seemed unnecessary since they had bigger things to worry about. Like the people who’d tried to kill them.
But when Cleo patted the ground next to them and Naida, Chiara didn’t see any reason to refuse. She could get along with those two fairly well. Sure, they were still a little hotheaded for her liking, but at least they were willing to see reason. Which was more than could be said for some of their companions.
So the blonde rose to her feet and closed her book once again, heading over to sit next to the other two Ascendants.
”Mind if I join you?” she questioned
Not that she really waited for an answer, taking a seat next to Cleo. To be fair it was probably fine since Cleo had invited Chiara to sit. If Naida didn’t want Chiara there, she’d let her know and Chiara would be more than willing to leave and go back to her book.
Thanks to her advanced senses, though, there wasn’t any part of Cleo and Naida’s conversation that the girl had missed.
”They’re right,” she said to Naida, with a nod of her head to indicate that she was talking about Cleo, ”none of us will be missed. And yes, it’s confusing and scary and we’re all pretty overwhelmed and confused. But these gods are just voices in our heads, we can’t do anything to them but argue with them telepathically. What else is there to do but make the best of it? Sure, we don’t be missed, but maybe we have a chance to become people someone will miss.”
Chiara didn’t consider herself an idealist by any means. But the way she saw it, if anything seemed like an opportunity to make a genuine difference in the world, it was being chosen by a deity to perform missions on earth.
These gods were assholes for doing this to them, but they were smart assholes. Chiara didn’t see any other option than to assume they knew what they were doing and hope for the best.
”They’re also right about everyone else. Honestly it’s better to just let them do their own thing and ignore them. I know it’s hard when they’re being stupid but it’s honestly better for all of us.”
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 30, 2020 16:44:17 GMT -5
Lucien watched as Laurie and River headed off round the lake together, smiling to himself and rolling his eyes lightly when he saw the two of them kiss. He and the other two should totally take credit for that one.
Luka asked that the three of them should do, but the blood on her hand after she touched her back had not been lost on Lucien, and a hint of concern flashed across his eyes, his eyebrows pulling together slightly.
”You could let me heal you properly,” he suggested ”unless bleeding all over the place is the kind of fun you want to have.”
He had never considered himself a particularly protective person before, not unless it was the very closest people in his life (and even then, that was iffy), but this was different. With him being the only healer in the group, he felt a strange responsibility to help when they were hurt. He was the only one who could.
Luka likely wouldn’t trust him, he knew that, but he really felt as if he at least needed to offer to help.
”And then we can do something fun. Any ideas, Kaz?”
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 30, 2020 16:57:28 GMT -5
Lane listened to what Daniel had to say, shaking her head at his words about being dangerous and a loose cannon.
It was at that moment the chaos had started with Luka and the flames, and once that had all died down she turned her attention back to Daniel.
”Daniel, you’re not dangerous,” she said firmly ”as Luka so neatly just demonstrated, you’re not the only one who can’t control your powers. But what you did protected the others who were with you at the time. The control will come, but it won’t come by distancing yourself from us, and you won’t find control at the bottom of a vodka bottle either.”
She looked at him earnestly then, moving slightly closer so she could look him in the eyes as she put one hand on his knee in reassurance.
”Look at me,” she said with a smile ”do I look as if I’m scared of you? As if I think you’re some kind of terrifying out-of-control monster?”
With that, she broke eye contact with Daniel to lean around him and look to Eydan on the other side of the boy.
”Eydan, tell him he’s not a danger to the group.”
She really didn’t think he was. Sure, he didn’t have control, but that might not be the case after he’d had some experience training and using his power. Plus, they’d managed to handle him without too much difficulty in the Pantheon before.
Either way, she didn’t think he should be afraid to spend time with the group, or that he should separate himself from them.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 30, 2020 17:10:24 GMT -5
When River kissed Laurie back, the boy’s heart leaped and he felt a great pressure lift from his shoulders. The sheer relief of knowing that River did feel the same. That he hadn’t utterly embarrassed himself and made everything awkward.
That River liked him back.
When they broke from the kiss, Laurie’s cheeks were more flushed than ever, and as River spoke about Laurie making him feel seen, Laurie gave a small smile to the ground before he met River’s eyes again.
”Well, I don’t think it takes a genius to realise that I like you, too,” he smiled ”and you don’t need to explain it. I feel the same.”
This felt right. Or, at least Laurie knew it felt nothing like anything he’d been through before. Comparing how he’d felt when he kissed River compared to how he’d kissed anyone else was like comparing a firework to a candle.
But he needed to be honest, and so he turned more so he was facing River more directly.
”You should know that I’ve never really done this before - a relationship, I mean,” he explained
Not that he expected that to be a big problem, but he didn’t want River to think Laurie was experienced in romance or anything. Plus, if River was the same at least it would put him at ease to know they were both in the same boat.
He didn’t want to scare River away by talking about relationships, but with the conversation they’d just had he didn’t really assume that River was looking for a one-night stand or anything. You didn’t kiss a guy you happened to live with, told him you liked him and that he made you feel heard, if you didn’t want something more serious.
Or, at least, Laurie didn’t think you did that.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jul 31, 2020 0:41:44 GMT -5
Luka glared at him when he mentioned it, though she snorted at his comment, ”Look, no matter how pretty your voice is, I don’t what to hear you go on some bloody yabber about people getting injured again.” she commented, throwing a lazy finger gun at him. ”It’s my fault I got injured, right? So it’s my problem, I don’t need you to fix it.”
Ridiculously stubborn, she simply shrugged at him and turned back towards the fire, looking over to where Chiara, Naida, and Cleo were. Fire reflected in her eyes, from the flames, and she simply grinned, ”No need to worry ‘bout me, Luci, I’ve somehow survived this long without a magical bard,” some undertone of warning was there, though her Australian accent picked up tenfold as she realized Laurie’s was no loner standing guard over the alcohol, which she decided to pointedly glance at, before delivering another line, turning back to her friends(she hoped they were friends), ”You ought to be careful, Sunshine, people might actually start thinking you’re going soft if you keep it up.”
She raised her eyebrows in a teasing manner, looking at Kaz then, expectantly, as if imploring him, Hey, Dora, what’s it going to be?
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 31, 2020 1:52:26 GMT -5
HUNGER GAMES AU SNIPPET
It was the night before the Games; interview night.
Laurie has snuck away from the rest of the District 8 team, including Guiney. He was already dressed in his suit, but the interviews hadn’t started yet. Catullus Acton would still be getting ready in his dressing room, and the others would be fussing about Guiney’s makeup and dress. He had some time.
It took wandering down a few hallways to find one room relatively close to the stage, a gold plaque on the outside of the door reading ‘Master of Ceremonies’. Not even the guy’s name. But he supposed that made sense. Much like Head Gamemaker, it wasn’t a job that had the most security. A different person could be in the role every year, so it would be pointless to change the plaque with a new name so often.
He knocked on the door and stepped inside to see a blue-haired figure sitting in a chair with his back to Laurie and looking in a mirror. When the man saw in the reflection who it was that entered the room, Laurie saw the shock register on his face as he turned to look at Laurie.
He was wearing his suit, his signature blue and gold, but had no makeup on yet. Without the makeup he looked kind of like a kid playing dress-up, as if not having the makeup on made the suit too big for him. The person who looked at Laurie now had far more of the Burton about him than the Catullus. A young man only about a year older than him, but shorter, with a scar on his cheek and a kind of weariness in his eyes that told of a boy who’d had to grow up far too fast.
It was almost strange to see him in real life after only seeing him on camera in the Games.
“What the hell are you doing?” Burton asked urgently, his voice almost a hiss as he jumped to his feet “you’re not supposed to be in here.”
But Laurent was already searching the room, walking around and carefully taking everything in, every now and then carefully shifting items to have a closer look.
“Yeah, well I’m not supposed to be going into an arena to fight to the death so, one problem at a time.” Laurie replied
Satisfied that the room wasn’t bugged, no cameras, no anything, the District 8 boy moved to stand back in front of Burton. The boy who would have been his mentor this year had he not ended up the host for the Games. Burton’s brown eyes looked at him expectantly as the older boy folded his arm.
“I’m here to do you a favour,” Laurie explained “You, my friend, have a problem.”
Burton looked almost slightly amused then, if Laurie didn’t once again see that weariness behind it.
“I’m well aware,” Burton said simply “did you think I won my Games by being stupid?”
“Just listen to me,” Laurie insisted “a few months ago a Capitol official visited 8. I heard them talking to my father, about normal stuff like the Games and logistics for the reapings. Then they started talking about you and your family, and my dad ended up signing over all the records and documents 8 has on you and your family over to the Capitol. I’m sure you know what that means for you and your family. They could make them all disappear without a trace, and get rid of any record of you from before your Games so all you had left was this Catullus identity and the Capitol.”
Burton’s eyes had flickered with recognition when Laurie mentioned his father, obviously realising just who Laurie had been back in their home district. And then the surprise and the dawning horror when Laurie explained everything that had happened.
It was clear that Burton had expected his family to be in danger, but he hadn’t expected the Capitol to make these sort of moves so soon. Perhaps it was becoming clear to him that he wasn’t getting any warnings. One foot out of line would mean they were gone.
Finally, he held up his arm and gestured on his own arm to the location where Burton’s old tracker must have been put last year before he went into the Arena. Where Laurie would be getting his own tracker the next morning
“And I’d watch where you step if I were you,” he warned
Burton nodded in understanding, but both boys panicked at the sound of footsteps. Burton’s eyes widened before he hastily shoved Laurie behind a curtained area that was obviously for changing.
Laurie stayed behind the curtain, trying to slow and quiet his rapid breathing as he heard some stylists enter the room, chattering in that birdlike Capitol way, their clipped vowels bouncing around the room.
After a couple of minutes he heard two strange thudding noises that sounded like Burton kicking something. Laurie peeked round the curtain to see Burton’s foot withdrawing from the dressing table in front of him. The two Capitol stylists who had come in were searching their bags for some kind of products, and weren’t looking at the mirror. In fact, Laurie could see something in Burton’s hand under the dressing table, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the boy was holding the product they were looking for. They wouldn’t see Laurie if he crept behind them and, even better, the door was ajar.
Taking the opportunity Burton must have been signalling to him, Laurie took the chance to get quietly out of the room, moving as quickly as he dared.
By some miracle, neither stylist looked up at the mirror before Laurie was able to escape to his freedom in the hallway, just in time to rush back to his district team and finish preparing for the interviews.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 31, 2020 14:09:48 GMT -5
HUNGER GAMES AU SNIPPETLane Sherwin lived in District 6, the district known for creating the trains and hovercrafts used by the Capitol, though ironically the residents of the district had little love for travel. Not that they could be blamed; anyone would dislike travelling if their entire lives centred around it.
The peacekeepers here were harsh, the district oppressed. Everyone wore dark clothes, and in general people here seemed to be pretty serious, which wasn't all that fun. Not that 'fun' was necessarily the thing on everybody's minds.
Lane was sixteen years old, and had lost her parents earlier that year. She'd always been known as kind of an unusual child, but it was at this point that she went off the rails. Pun intended.
She was known for being pretty fast and energetic. After losing the family home following the death of her parents, Lane had found her own ways to get by living in an old railyard, making an abandoned train her new home. Everyone knew she lived there, and she liked to think she'd made it pretty homely over the years with trinkets and odds and ends left in the railyard from the final cargo carried by the trains there. She'd made suncatchers from old colourful pieces of glass, reflecting rainbows of colour through the whole thing, and added fabric across the doorway as a curtain and entranceway to her home. She wasn't too badly off for food either; since she was on her own, she didn't need to take tesserae. Odds-and-ends jobs around the district supported her enough to get food and oil to burn for fuel. Plus the coal shipments from District 12 made themselves handy; there were always a few stray pieces when cargo like that was onloaded that fell on the ground and were easy to pick up without anyone noticing.
She'd even found an old broken-down train that had been headed to the Capitol and was still carrying much of its cargo. Which was how Lane had come to experiment with the dye, resulting in her signature blue-dyed hair with the yellow streak at her temple. Naturally she was a brunette.
The whole abandoned railway yard was her playground; Lane was full of energy and known to be a pretty fast runner, and she particularly enjoyed running across the tops of the abandoned railway cars, jumping from car to car nimbly as she did so.
Today was reaping day, a day that was always terrible for families, as it had been for Lane's own the past four years. Now, with her parents gone, it was almost more bearable. She missed having her parents there to help her get ready, but she was glad they weren't there to stress and worry anymore over whether she'd get reaped or not.
So, like any other reaping day, Lane prepared to present herself at the square. Even if she was the type to try and use her recent situation to try and avoid the reaping, it wouldn't work. Everybody knew she'd made that old train her home, and her technically being homeless did not exempt her from having to show herself.
With that in mind, Lane did what she'd always done every year; brushed out her colourful hair and put on her best dress. Normally her mother would have done some kind of complicated updo - she was good at that kind of thing - but she wasn't there this year and Lane was no good at doing hair in general, never mind her own hair. So she just brushed it out as neatly as possible. Her dress was a little wrinkled, because she never had figured out how her father had always been able to get every single wrinkle out.
At the square, having given her hand for them to take her blood and then followed the others to stand in front of the stage, shifting from foot to foot as she nervously waited. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could go back to her life and forget any of this had ever happened. Two more years after this, and then what? Get a job, maybe actually try to get a house again? Maybe she'd actually get hired once she was no longer eligible for the Games.
The droning speeches were over after what felt like an eternity, and she watched as with the usual proclamation of 'ladies first!' the Capitol escort moved to pick the name of the unlucky female tribute this year.
Last year's tributes flashed before her eyes for a moment. Ireena Pivy and Carlo Valentine. Carlo was only fourteen, hadn't even made it through the bloodbath. The losses of those two children still weighed as heavily on the district as if it hadn't been a year back. She could still remember Burton Acton standing in front of them at his Victory Tour, giving eulogies for tributes he'd never interacted with.
"Lane Sherwin!"
She stopped moving from foot to foot. All of the girls standing near Lane immediately took a step back, and the escort's eyes locked onto Lane. Goddamn this bright hair; she must have stood out in the crowd like a sore thumb. The Capitol escort beckoned her up to the stage with an artificially bright smile that was like staring directly into the sun.
She headed for the stage, passing through a crowd so silent one could hear a pin drop. She could feel the sympathy from them. The girl who'd lost her parents last year. Defiant and wanting to push away their pity, Lane made a point of holding her chin up proudly. She didn't want their pity, she didn't want anyone to volunteer, she didn't want any of that. Pity was the most useless thing to her; it couldn't feed her, it couldn't protect her, all it did was make people feel good about themselves.
She stepped up onto the stage, and watched as the boy was called up. A boy by the name of Cassius McDermont. Lane, who had been pacing and bouncing on her feet, more full of nervous energy than ever, had only been able to stop when Kaz cracked a joke, bringing a smile to her face and even eliciting a slight laugh as she shook his hand.
He was friendly, she noted, much like Carlo had been last year. Perhaps too friendly for the Hunger Games, but that wasn't for her to decide. She'd thought the very same thing about last year's victor.
The Hunger Games were something to take seriously, for sure, and Lane had to admit that she was a little scared. But at the heart of it she didn't care whether she came home or not. She didn't have people waiting for her, she didn't have anything to lose at all. She considered it much more important that she make this mean something, if she couldn't survive.
Maybe she had a chance, but she wasn't counting on it.
She turned back to face the crowd, seeing the looks in their eyes. They thought of her and Kaz much as she'd thought of every other pair of tributes these last few years. As if they weren't real, as if they were so distant it was like they couldn't be touched. The Hunger Games was something that always happened to other people, not her. At least that's how it had always felt before now.
That had all changed.
In a moment all of this would be over and she'd sit for a while in the Justice Building before they went on the train. And from there, she would have very little control over what happened to her next. Indeed, she wasnt even sure if winning was what she would want, if the haunted look in Burton Acton's eyes after his victory was anything to go by.
Death wasn't something that scared her anymore, but there was far more about the Games that could scare a person than just death.
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Post by 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓿 on Jul 31, 2020 18:14:46 GMT -5
Eydan listened to Lane as she reassured Daniel. She was good at that, he’d have to remember those things later. As he listened a small laugh came up from him again and he nodded in understanding. “It’s been weird for all of us to get used to these powers and things the gods decided to slam on us” he commented simply before looking to meet Daniel’s eyes. Sincere and honest, Eydan reached and put a hand lightly on Daniel’s shoulder, that smile still sitting on his lips. “I can absolutely promise you, Daniel, you are not a danger to the rest of us here.” He paused for a moment then, “Honestly from what I’ve seen you’re the most powerful. You've got a wicked sense of right and wrong as well as protective nature. Really man, you fit right in here and I wouldn’t have it any other way” he shook Daniel’s shoulder lightly, making sure to drill in the sincerity of his words before looking back out at the lake and taking a sip of his drink. “I’m really glad you’re all here. It makes me feel.....purposeful again” he commented gently.
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Post by 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓿 on Jul 31, 2020 18:18:35 GMT -5
Kita watched everything unfold. The singing. The flames. The arguments. The joking. It was a whirlwind to say the least. When the fire had exploded she’d ducked herself a bit over to Guinevere’s side, the taller girl provided the smallest bit of protection from the flames. Then as everything died down, Kita settled back in on the ground at Guinevere’s side, her eyes snapping up as Jason called their attention to what was happening further with River and Laurie. Kita’s smile grew and she giggled gently. “They like each other so much.” She cooed in delight as she held her face in her hands, watching their figures disappear towards the water. She then giggled again at Guinevere’s reaction to them and sighed gently. “Isn’t strange that through all of this there are still some who have found a bit of love and comfort.” She smiled quietly down at the nail polish, she felt contentment with these people. People who truly seemed to care about her and were interested in getting to know her and joy just her talents. It felt good for Kita.
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Post by 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓿 on Jul 31, 2020 18:23:37 GMT -5
Kaz let our a giant sigh as Luka calmed and Sanna came out unscathed. He then finally burst into laughter again as Luka threatened him with her finger guns, “Oh please I have so much more to Explore-a though!” He pleaded with a fake look of concern on his face to his friend. Then Naida appeared in all her wrath and Kaz froze. Straightening up and listening to her rant and chastise then all. Finally things died back down and Kaz looked to Luka. “Well....” he muttered feeling like a dog who’d been scolded. “That wasn’t that fun.” He huffed lightly then. His eyes flicked to Sanna and he arched his brow once more, “So did you know about that or....were we just really f*cking lucky?”
Sanna, who’s fallen silent and who’s smile had fallen to a scowl from Naida’s words huffed too as Naida left. Then she looked to Kaz as he addressed her and gave another small laugh before smirking. “Had no clue.” She assured Kaz and Luka as she pushed her hands into the pockets of her slightly charred and burned pants. “But, I supposed if I’m gonna be around you it’s a good thing, huh?” She added. Like Laurie a French accent moved through her words, but hers was a bit more gruff and had toned out from years of learning English in schools.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 1, 2020 4:36:04 GMT -5
HUNGER GAMES AU SNIPPETLucien Fairfax was fourteen years old. He'd grown up in District 4 with his mother and older sister Elara, who was seventeen. They had a kind of complicated relationship, it had to be said. Elara was calm where he was hotheaded, Elara cared very much about how she was perceived, where Lucien didn't care about what people thought of him. People had thought the worst of him ever since their father left four years ago, from which point he'd started letting his anger get the better of him and had ended up getting in all kinds of trouble. Elara didn't particularly appreciate that, especially since she'd taken so much more responsibility looking after the house and even their mother, who was depressed. Lucien did what he could to take care of their mother too, but it was never really enough.
Elara was the golden child, the well-behaved kid, while Lucien got very much tarred with a different brush. The 'just like his father' one.
Luckily Lucien had the Academy and his training. A good place to get all his anger out. Then he could volunteer when he got to eighteen. That way if he won, he could make his family proud of him, finally give his mother and sister a better house, and more money. If he lost, well at least he'd be out of Elara's hair and wouldn't be able to cause her so much stress anymore. Either way, a place in the Games was coveted in his District; if he managed to get that chance when he was eighteen he'd finally be able to prove to the district that he was one of them, that he'd fight for glory for his district like every other kid before him.
Not that he really thought that way. He wasn't so stupid to really think in that ridiculous 'glory for the district' kind of way. Death was death, there was nothing glorious about the Games. Then again, he'd seen far too many sarcastic cynics like him appear in the Games throughout the years, and very rarely was their sarcasm and wit helpful to them.
Today was the reaping for the 91st Hunger Games. Lucien's hope was that his year would be the 95th. He was lucky, in fact, that he wasn't five years younger, otherwise he would've been eligible for the 4th Quarter Quell. Sure, that would be more glory for the tributes in the district's eyes, but Lucien wasn't stupid. Even for a Career, a Quarter Quell could all too easily be a death sentence.
He had gotten dressed in his best clothes, as had Elara, and he and his older sister had set out for the square together. She had paused to smooth the final wrinkles out of her dress before they headed out, and had tried to adjust Lucien's collar a little only for the boy to bat her hands away.
He gave his hand to have his blood taken almost boredly, without a flinch. He'd been prepared for that even before his very first Games, having watched Elara do it in the years before. Besides, it didn't really hurt. The training in the Academy, that hurt.
It was at this point that he and Elara separated, the seventeen-year-old going to stand with the older girls, while Lucien went to stand with the boys. Being fourteen, he was much closer to the stage than Elara; he landed somewhere a little in front of the middle of the crowd.
It wasn't surprising to the blond to see that the female tribute was a volunteer, a girl who yelled almost instantly after the name was called. You have to be quick.
At first he only heard the voice, though soon the girl to whom the voice belonged ascended onto the stage. She was older than him, and very pretty. Smooth, glowing skin and shiny hair. She would have the Capitol's attention easily, that much was for sure. And judging by her stance, the look in her eyes, and the way she seemed as naturally made for water as anyone in District 4, it seemed like she'd be able to play any angle she wanted in interview. Flirty, tough, scary, noble. Whatever the hell she wanted. Her mentor and stylist would have an easy time, that much was obvious.
Her name was Naida Hollick.
Now it was time for the boys, the Capitol escort prattling the same speech as always. Lucien had only been in two reapings, and yet he could mouth the Capitol escort's words exactly.
"Lucien Fairfax!"
Well, that was a little unexpected to say the very least. But the boy didn't wait for the other boys around him to stare, or step back to create a clear path to the stage. He just moved past them, noting as he headed for the stage that there were no volunteers.
This was unsurprising. Last year's bloodshed had hit the district harder than normal. Halina Flynn and Jonas O'Dell had really seemed like they could have had a chance, but it wasn't to be for either of them. And now, history was repeating itself with another tribute that was on the younger side. This time, Lucien was even younger than Halina had been last year. The results hadn't inspired much confidence among this year's potential tributes.
He supposed he had a half-decent chance. He could use a weapon better than most kids his age what with his Academy training, and he was as skilled at swimming and tying knots as anyone from his district. Perhaps those skills would come in handy at some point or another. Unlike Naida, though, he didn't think he'd have an easy time getting the support of the Capitol or finding an angle to play to in interview - which was good, because the last thing he cared about was making the Capitol like him.
Once he stepped up onto the stage he caught sight of Elara in the crowd. She hadn't yelled or screamed as sometimes happened in other districts; that just wouldn't do in District 4. To do that would've implied that she thought Lucien wasn't going to make it. Plus, they thought of the Games as an honour in District 4, one they probably didn't feel Lucien was deserving of. No, Elara couldn't afford to make a fuss. They could talk about everything before he got on the train - that was the time to speak freely. She looked at him as he stood on that stage, and he could see the sadness in her eyes, her concern for him. They might not get on, but they were still brother and sister.
He shook hands with Naida, was congratulated by the Capitol escort, and that was it.
The 91st Hunger Games were beginning.
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Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
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Post by Leo on Aug 1, 2020 15:52:27 GMT -5
Jason nodded and glanced at the Athena Champion. "What about you, Kita?" He asked raising his eyebrows. "Is there anyone you like?" He asked innocently tilting his head to the side a bit.
Meanwhile, Griffin had put his jacket back on, since, Sanna wasn't burning anymore he'd taken to relaxing a bit. That was until he noticed Guinevere again. He felt his heart quicken for a moment and immediately looked away. He tried to find someone else he could talk to. River and Laurie were walking away, Naida was hiding in her tent with Cleo and Chiara nearby, Lane was with Daniel and Eydan, and Ariella was still talking to Theo. Any one of them would be a great option.
But, when Ariella caught his eye, she smiled and gestured with her head towards the trio of gossipers. 'Be brave' she seemed to say. And with a deep breath, he approached the trio. "Hey guys," he said calmly with a small lopsided smile.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 1, 2020 16:24:05 GMT -5
HUNGER GAMES SNIPPET
Even Burton's dreams allowed no escape.
The dreams changed night by night. Sometimes it was the District 2 female from his games, Macaria Slayte. A girl who still sent shivers down his spine with her cold manipulation and gleeful brutality. Memories of her cornering him, slicing her knife viciously down his thigh. The memories of her knife glinting in the low light, her taunting him in a sickly sweet voice, the laughter of the other Careers.
Other nights it was the boy from District 2, Everest Stonewell. The runner-up in Burton's Games, the boy he'd had to kill by his own hands. By the time it came for the two of them to fight Everest was to depressed, to devastated to want to fight after he'd murdered the girl he'd fallen in love with in the Arena, District 7's Amadrya Darrow. Those dreams always brought him back to their final confrontation in the Arena, neither boy wishing to hurt the other but Everest begging Burton to finish it, end the Games for the both of them. The light fading from Everest's eyes as Burton reluctantly gave in to the other boy's pleading.
But most nights it was Holly. He'd start his dreams waking up in the Arena, a pain in the back of his head telling him Holly had knocked him out. It was after an argument they'd had about Holly's plans to bait the Careers away from Burton. He'd tried to stop her but Holly had never been the type to let anyone tell her what do to. Next, he would always head outside of the ruined building they'd been using for shelter and head in the direction he knew Holly would go to lead the Careers away. Every single time, just like had happened in the Games, he was too late by the time he found her body. Covered with blood and grotesque, swirling cuts made by Macaria. A slow death ending only in the two deep gashes on Holly's wrists. In her hands she clasped a necklace, one Burton would take for safekeeping. That couldn't go into Holly's coffin with her, only for her to be buried by strangers who didn't know her. He had to keep something to remember her.
He remembered kneeling at her side the moment he saw her, shaking as tears fell down his cheeks and he grabbed her bloody hand in his, brushing some dark hair from her face before gently touching her forehead with his. Trying to wipe as much blood away as he could, even though he knew the Capitol would clean her up once they had her body.
This was the girl who'd sacrificed everything for his sake, even though she seemed so much more worthy to win the Games than him. The girl filled with life and the spark of rebellion, the girl who put her all into making the Games mean something.
The girl he had fallen in love with those past weeks.
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When he woke from his nightmare in District 8's Victor's Village, Burton had immediately left his house, careful not to wake his parents and siblings. Ever since he'd returned from the Games and his Victory Tour he hadn't been the same, but he didn't want to worry them too much. His sisters needed constancy.
He'd headed out for an early morning walk, the time he would normally have been heading to the factory if he still had to work. His family knew he'd taken to walking out on his own, so they wouldn't be worried when he wasn't there when they woke up.
The walk was uneventful; cold, brisk, but quiet. Away from the loud and sudden noises that often brought back painful memories for Burton; even the clatter of dishes being washed up at home reminded him too much of cannons. No, the real event was when he got back to find all his family lined in the hallway, a peacekeeper awaiting him.
"President Louden wishes to speak with you, Mr Acton," was all the peacekeeper had explained.
It turned out Louden had arrived while Burton had been out, and had in the short space of time made himself at home in the dining room of the house, sitting on one of the wooden seats. Upon seeing Burton he smiled and gestured to take a seat opposite him. Reluctantly, Burton obliged.
"I trust you had a pleasant walk," Louden smiled "a pleasure to see you again, Mr Acton."
Burton sat stiffly in his seat, arms in front of him with his fingers intertwined to stop him being tempted to drum them nervously on the table or anything of the sort.
"Likewise," Burton said, but there was a pregnant silence before he added, "with respect, Mr President, why are you here?"
Louden seemed to have been waiting for that question, as he leaned backwards in his seat, laying his arms on the armrest.
"I'm here because I have a problem, one that I think you can help me with."
The teenager knew better than to respond to that, just watching Louden warily as he waited for the president to continue to speak. In the pause, the President pulled out a device that revealed a screen, on which Burton could see clips from his Games; Holly mouthing rebellious words at her reaping, Amadrya and Everest kissing, clips from the interviews from many of the different tributes saying things that could certainly be perceived as defiant. Most of the clips were of Holly, the most rebellious of the tributes from the 90th Games. But then, Burton's own face filled the screen. Clip after clip after clip of Burton charming people during the interviews and in the Games. What he'd said had been rebellious, but more subtly so; he had a family to protect.
"My problem is rebellion. Your previous records, I could overlook; stealing from the factories has defiance about it, but it's a small infraction. But what Holly Alandria planted into Panem's heads before she martyred herself for you in the Games? The same ideas she put in your head? That concerns me, not least because now you will be in the public eye for the rest of your life."
Burton knew that, had been told that by his mentor right after he won the Games; he might have survived, but he would never leave that Arena. Not really.
"Perhaps you should have killed me in the Arena," Burton challenged calmly
Louden smiled then, as if enjoying that response. It was rare for Burton to show any of his fire. But any comment on Holly or his family had the potential to bring it out in him.
"Perhaps. I would have liked better to have a victor who was a little easier to control. But alas, you're alive, and we must adjust accordingly. My big problem, Mr Acton, can be solved by getting rid of the threat you pose. I had wanted to cut out your tongue, make you an Avox. After all, you would be nothing without it, would you? It was your charming words that got you through the Games, not your non-existent fighting prowess. As long as you can speak, you're a threat to me."
Burton tried to hide the way he nervously swallowed at those words. Louden had been right; Burton's charm and personality had won him his Games, and removing his ability to speak would render him virtually powerless. It wouldn't have done so for Holly, who could find a way to fight until there was nothing left of her.
"Why didn't you?" was Burton's next question
"You're too well-liked in the Capitol. Besides, there is a much simpler way for us to resolve my issue. You don't want a real war, Burton. They are nothing like the Games, of that I can assure you. You certainly don't want your sisters killed because of a few misplaced words, now do you? And I know you don't want your quant little district burned to the ground. No, I think none of that has to happen if the two of us are friends."
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. A strategy that worked in the real world but never in the Games.
Burton knew Louden had him in a corner now. The threats against his sisters were obvious, and Burton could do nothing but agree to the President's demands if he wanted no harm to come to his family. And after losing Holly because of her desire to protect him, he could not afford to lose his family either.
"Tell me what to do and I'll do it," Burton said with a sigh
"We need to show Panem you're on our side, destroy any association of your image - and that of Holly's by extension - with these new rebellious sentiments. That'll nip this in the bud, or so you had better hope - for your own sake. You will come to the Capitol and be the host for next year's Hunger Games. You'll do what you're told, say the right things, and nobody back here in District 8 has to get hurt. I think I've made myself clear enough, yes?"
Burton nodded, and Louden rose to his feet, obviously satisfied.
"We'll send you more information, and the appropriate contracts to sign, shortly," Louden explained
And with that, as if he had never been there at all, President Louden stepped out into the hallway and vanished.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Aug 1, 2020 16:58:34 GMT -5
Chapter Four: The Judge Clementine didn’t exactly find meetings fun at all. Social conversation was frankly a waste of time, and that’s all it was. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
They found themselves sticking to their own. It was annoying, to say the least, how everyone referred to them as girl. Girl this, girl that. Not at all accepted for who they were. Their parents raffled them in as a female, because in their eyes, Clementine was too much of a wimp, too much of a disappointment to be a boy, and being accepted as neither was absolutely not acceptable.
However, since they were going to die anyways, they decided that they could be whatever the hell they wanted to be. No one was going to strip that away from them now.
They could die being themself, and that was good enough for them.
Glaring around the room, they allowed their gaze to follow Pascal, their District partner. The boy was doing everything he could to avoid their Stylist, a new one, a young capitolite, who had dark hair that seemed to have some effect of neon sheen when light hit at different angles, and eyes that almost looked obsidian. Esmeray was a unique case, she grew up in the Capitol, Cleo presumed, but she didn’t act like other Capitolites.
Esmeray and Pascal didn’t seem to see eye to eye, and Cleo had no idea why and kind of didn’t care. Chances were, at least one half of the duo would be dead before the end of the month, with that being Pascal. Not that Cleo didn’t think he could win, just that the chances were unlikely.
So that was that. Cleo gave exactly zero shits about any of this. The whole preparation? Stupid. The parade? A waste of perfectly good material? The arena? Too much money spent on murder, too much electricity wasted on a job that could easily be done by choosing 24 kids and playing a game of Russian Roulette with a gun.
To suffice, Cleo had no idea why the whole debacle had to go down, and if they were going to die, well, that was old news. People lived, people died, and strangely they were quite fine with that fact.
That didn’t mean Clementine was giving up, just that they weren’t bent out of shape. They didn’t cry like the girl from 12, laugh like the girl from 2, or fume like the boy from 12. They just accepted the reality.
Stepping away from two tall kids who were talking, Cleo found their way near the boy from 12, who had just walked in the door with his District partner. The girl ducked her head, avoiding all eye contact, and the boy loomed over her like the guardian he obviously was.
The boy from 4, Lucien, had made the mistake of giving the freckled-boy a dubious, curious look. The telltale judgemental look crossed the boy’s eyes, and District 12’s male immediately caught sight of it.
“What are you looking at, Four?” He snapped, pushing his way through other tributes, leaving the young girl from 12 alone, and she seemed to run off, to hide, Cleo had to assume.
Lucien didn’t seem phased in the slightest, instead just glared at the ginger, “Well, I was looking around. Now it appears I’m looking at an imbecile.”
Clementine facepalmed, because now both boys were yelling at one another, fists raised and ready to rumble. Spitting back insults back and forth like children.
“Who are you calling Imbecile, sunshine?” The boy from 12 snapped, lunging at Lucien. Lucien, for his part, side-stepped. He looks so annoyed, not backing down any at all despite being younger than the other boy.
“Obviously I’m talking about you, Mister High and Mighty asshole,” Lucien snarled right back, though his smirk was short lived as a fist collided with his face. Rubbing at the blooming bruises the boy lunged right back at Twelve, and Clementine rolled their eyes.
Of course, other tributes were now stopping to watch the two boys throw punches at one another, though no one seemed to be making any moves to stop it. Everyone was too busy glancing between both boys, and looking concerned but unsure. Grunting in annoyance, Clementine pushed themselves right before the two, though they were interrupted in their attempt to stop the fight.
“What do you two think your doing!?” Everyone seemed to look at the girl who said it, shorter than many with dark hair, dark skin, and piercing blue eyes. Even Cleo was intimidated at the sight of her, and slunk back into the crowd a bit. Everyone went silent at her outburst, as she pushed herself between both Lucien and Twelve, feet firmly pressed into the ground.
“He started it!” Lucien yelled, pointing at Twelve, and the girl - Naida - slapped his hand down harshly, one look from her silencing the boy.
“You said I was an imbecile, I was shutting you up,” River pointed out helpfully, though he too took a step back at Naida’s withering gaze when she pointed her ire in his direction.
“If you get so upset over simple words, you’re going to get yourself killed long before you step foot in the arena.” Naida pointed out, no trace of a smile on her face, just a glare, “Even if that means less competition, I’d like to save it all for the arena.”
Cleo nodded along, it was only reasonable. The boys would bring too much attention to themselves, and while it made theirnchance better if they appeared like total idiots, they really didn’t want to listen to two teens bicker back and forth over insults.
Grunting, Twelve practically dropped Lucien, who he had picked up by his collar. Both boys spit out more insults, but Naida ended up tugging Lucien away and whacking him on the headmfor good measure, lightly, with a stern glare. Twelve himself turned to glare sharply at Clementine themself, “What are you looking at?”
“Cut the crap, Twelve, I haven’t had enough sleep to deal with your shit.” They snapped back, and held their ground as the boy stepped closer to them. “And I’m not fighting you either. Unlike you, I’d like to have good prospects going into the games, if you really want to protect Echo, you should start acting like it.” They pointed out.
Twelve stopped, the name of his District partner had him looking around, eyes slowly becoming panicked, so Cleo held up their hands, “She went that way,” they pointed in the direction, “I suspect she doesn’t like fighting. She’s under enough stress as it is, stop putting her under more.”
The boy actually nodded, looking a bit guilty and backed away, ducking back into the crowds to look for Echo. Cleo really had to find out what his name was, between him yelling it at the reaping, and his inability to get along with anyone other than Echo, Cleo could never properly ever hear anything other than a loud distorted name.
“Surprised he even listened to you,” A voice piped up from nearby, and Cleo growled in annoyance. They didn’t suck this all up and come to the Capitol just to become a socialite. Turning, ready to tell the person off, they stopped, recognizing a girl from 3, who blond hair with the lighter streak was pulled out of her face. She had intelligent eyes, a book in hand.
Three looked annoyed too, as Theodore had finally let her go, and Cleo took notice that for some reason both kids from Three constantly had books in hand. “Not going to lie. I’m surprised too.” They responded, not wasting words on any form of greeting.
“Name’s Chiara, you’re Clementine, right?” Chiara questioned, nodding at Cleo and closing the book that she ad been reading, before tucking it gracefully under an arm.
“Clementine, but Cleo would suffice. District three, right?” They returned, deciding that Chiara was better company than literally anyone and everyone else.
“Yep,” Chiara responded, popping the ‘p’ and glancing around with a disinterested look, “District 5, right?”
“Yep,” Clementine mimicked the girl’s answer, glancing back at the crowd. The girl from 2 was standing beside the mentor from 2. Two’s eyes flickered between the Mentor, Juliet, and the crowd. It was odd, the girl looked young, ribbon in hair. Confident, but with a dampened mood. Though they glanced back at Chiara, quickly, when the girl began to talk.
“Have you met Naida?” Chiara questioned, and when Cleo nodded their head, she nodded, continuing, “She’s the girl from 4, Lucien’s District partner. She’s a reasonable girl, much like I presume you are.”
“Not a girl,” was all they responded with, swishing the liquid of the juice they had, gaze flickering to Chiara. Chiara only nodded, so Cleo continued, “I’m rational, perhaps not reasonable. I was about to intervene, but Naida beat me to it.”
“I almost feel bad for her,” Chiara continued, “The career pack is young this year, and most of them are reckless fools.”
Cleo knew exactly what she meant, The boy from 1 was cocky, The girl from 2 was pretty obedient so far, but was reckless as shown by her reaping, and Lucien was acting like a testosterone-driven fool. Even if the girl from 2 was any good, that still left one-third of the career pack as idiots, and Two still seemed undecided.
“You have that right. I wouldn’t be surprised if allegiances this year got all switched about. I couldn’t imagine being a career and being stuck with Theodore or Lucien,” Clementine spat out, rolling their eyes.
“I don’t think their the only causes of concern. Both kids from 2 seem off,” Somewhat surprising, Eydan didn’t seem like a trouble maker, but they decided not to push it, instead offering a shrug.
“I think Irene will join the Career Pack,” Clementine says, deciding they need to apply something to the conversation. Irene, the brave girl from 11 who had that Career energy to her. The confused look Chiara gives them only causes them to throw their hands up slightly, “I could be wrong, but the Career pack will be lacking, right? So they’ll need to make up for that.” They point out.
Chiara regards them a small, fake smile, though their seems to be something polite and astonished in it. Clementine was observant, that much was obvious. Observant on personality and mannerisms, a good judge of character, if they had to be honest.
“I could see that,” Chiara comments, “I think the Career Pack may find help in unlikely places.”
“I think we will.” A voice commented, and Clementine turns, meeting the eyes of Sanna from District 1, who easily is one of the most intimidating people in the games. Sanna doesn’t smile, she only looked at them in calm regard, “And I think we need to talk.”
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Aug 2, 2020 14:30:42 GMT -5
Chapter Five: Foreboding In District 10, things had never been easy. As years evolved, the Hunger Games changed. More coverage, more preparation. Anything to get the best thing out of the games as possible.
However little sparks of rebellion popped up. Often silent, often too soft to notice, to question. A comment that sounded off, a hesitance in a kill, letting someone live longer, taking longer to win.
None of it escaped Lorenzo. Not the passing glances, or the way that that people seemed to get closer with each game. It was understandable, the Hunger Games had went on for 90 years before, so much so that it sunk in. They would never end, and thus that meant everyone but one died. Why worry about your actions when you would die soon?
People went and fell in love, people went and killed, people went insane. The boy from 2 killed his lover, the girl from 2 and the boy from 1 flirted back and forth and their hands would linger for too long, pinkies curled together. The boy from 8 died to give his District partner a chance, a District partner who would die by from her lover in 2.
The cycle would repeat, in a different manner, but it didn’t matter. It was understandable. With no hope, you found solace in what’s was near. You formed friendships even when you knew it was pointless.
He remember when his younger brother died, it was a sickness that spread fast and deadly. An illness that originated from some place a while ago. His brother had been one of the unlucky ones, a trip to District 2, training to be a medic, and never returned. Even so, Lorenzo had hope for his family.
Family crumbled, so he hoped for love.
She left him for his best friend, and so nothing was left.
In the Hunger Games, there was a passing hope. That maybe, with enough pity from the Capitol, more than one victor could be crowned. That lovers could live, siblings could remain, friends could laugh. It was a stupid, futile hope. But Lorenzo could see the belief. The slim chance, that many tributes hoped for. A delusional thing. Or maybe, deep down, they didn’t hope, but they dreamed.
A girl from District 8 was a spark. She was more than just passing glance, an off comment. She radiated with Fire. She didn’t seem to hope, because he could see it.
Before Burton Acton, Holly Alandria had nothing left to lose. And that’s why silence mattered.
Losing, no one wanted to lose what they had. Sure, losing a life was horrible, but being the reason family or friends died? Nothing about that could feel could, and the costs had been shown before.
It wasn’t secret that the Capitol would do whatever it took to keep secrecy. That’s why the Hunger Games existed.
But all it took was one spark to fan a flame. Peacekeepers were everywhere and it was obvious.
Something was going to have to give.
Something.
“Lorenzo?” His district partner, Kita questioned. She was dressed for the parade, everyone was, and their chariot was decorated. They were from the Livestock District, which was sad for Enzo. He didn’t particularly like being from the district known for killing creatures. He didn’t work a job of being a killer of the cattle or chicken, instead, he worked in a rescue center, where sick animals were treated.
He liked that much more than killing. Shaking his head though, he offered Kita a dazzling smile. Their Chariot was designed with spots similar to cattle, and two long horns on the front, meant to mimic a bull. It was silly, perhaps, but that was what they chose to do for District 10.
“Yes, Kita?” He questioned softly. He particularly liked her, she was nice, kind, though very soft-spoken. She didn’t seem to be a traitor at all. The soft quiet ones never fared well, but he didn’t let it bother him. Just because she didn’t like to talk much didn’t mean she didn’t stand a chance, it just meant she was smart. It was the loudmouths who tended to make the most enemies, the ones who thought they had something to prove.
They would do just fine together. He had already decided on that. It wasn’t unusual for district partners to stick together in the games. He didn’t see any reason it should be odd now. The eventual issue of killing or dying wasn’t one he had to face for a while, so he wouldn’t.
“You look sad, are you alright?” Kita questioned, taking a step forward. She was almost like a dainty wolf, calm in her steps, with wide, inquisitive eyes. She was far more smart and observant than Lorenzo was. It showed, she was poised, more well-kept. She was nervous, it was obvious, but at least her emotions held somewhat hidden. She was an open book, but she stayed together.
Lorenzo felt ripped at the spine, pages tattered. He offered his sad smile in reply, and fell into a silence. She seemed to understand. Nothing about the situation was alright, they were about to be sent into a pin until one came out alive and everyone else was dead. The losers would die, the winner would face the horrors of their actions for life. There was no winning in the Hunger Games. The two remained in that silence, looking around and enjoying the company they did have.
That was, until he jumped. Nathan seemed to sneak up onto people. He clapped a hand over Lorenzo’s back, grinning as he approached the two tributes, “How are my favorite two tributes doing?”
Lorenzo offered a sheepish grin, ducking his head slightly and pulling his mentor and partner into a hug. Nathan was quite nice, and didn’t talk like he expected them to die. His words offered to both tributes were friendly, upbeat, and kind. He seemed more tortured by his games, like he seen too much death, in comparison to his friends. Though Enzo didn’t really fault Ripley, Gwen, and Atticus. All three were Capitol favorites, and the Capitol didn’t tend to like victors who seemed to be weighed down and tortured by what they had done.
“Nervous,” Kita responded sheepishly, ducking her head in embarrassment. Lorenzo only nodded along to her answer. It was an understatement, really. Lorenzo was terrified, but he was afraid to speak and sound like a complete fool.
Nathan nudged them both toward the chariot, offering his telltale grin, like he could read right through the charade, “You’ll knock ‘em all dead. You’re both stunning, you’ve convinced me! All you have to do is just smile and wave, all of Panem will love you!” He encouraged.
“You think so?” Enzo questioned, looping his arm into Kita’s offering her another grin, and pulling them along to their chariot with newfound confidence. Nathan’s words were probably out of sheer pity, but Enzo didn’t particularly like to believe Nathan was like that.
“I know so!” Nathan called back. And Enzo decided that Nathan really did believe in them, or the boy was one of the best liars he had ever met.
— Lorenzo was surprised that he hadn’t stained his clothes with sweat, or that his trembling wasn’t glaringly obvious. His gaze locked on the large screen that sat on the Training Building, which displayed him and Kita. Stealing his gaze away, he offered a charming grin and waved at the crowd. With his other hand, one locked firmly with Kita’s he offered a reassuring squeeze.
The thrill of the crowd was electric. The applause loud. Busying himself with waving and smiling, though he couldn’t face the crowd properly with feeling like he was being ran over. Instead, he let his eyes roam over the other chariots, taking time to appreciate the stylists handpicked outfits and craftsmanship.
District 1’s chariot was turning the corner, both Theodore and Sanna dressed in fabric that had shatter-like metal designs, like those of crystals. District 2 had a gladiator theme, with Luka and Eydan in blue Roman attire. District 3 of course had technology, though neither tributes was allowed to carry a book with them. In District 4, Naida quite literally looked like a water goddess, and Lucien was out in a similar blue outfit, the fabrics almost like mesmerizing waves.
So on and on, Lorenzo couldn’t pick up all the details of every outfit, he could only listen as District 11 was introduced his gaze lingering back. Irene and Dillon were dressed in floral attire, with a large flower crown on both tributes heads. Looking back to the front, Lorenzo took notice of some more outfits, notably the grain-themed ones for District 9. Both tributes wore material that resembles the skirts of corn and grain, with matching crowns placed on their heads.
Ahead, Lorenzo spotted a few more chariots round the circle. District 5 had a glowing chariot, with changing colored LEDs on the outfit, juxtaposed to the dark and broody tributes form 5. District 6 stuck out, with Lane in bright green with rainbow makeup, and Kaz in a matching darker green. District 7 went with an autumn leaf theme, both in warm tones of the Fall, looking almost like freshly fallen leave sthemselves. District 8 we’re dresses in capes and rich textiles, Laurie’s left little to the imagination, and Guinevere dresses in a regal dress that had a skirt made of thousands of threads, with a large sewing needle weaved into her hair.
When 12 was announced, Lorenzo had to look at the screen to see them. Both were breathtaking, almost themed like Phoenixes. River had a cape of red and orange feathers, while Echo’s smaller dress was made up of feathers, with the sleeves long, draped over her back like feathers too, with her feet covered in a smoky black, like that of coals and embers. Even her makeup had little wings, while River’s was darkened, making his fiery eyes stick out.
They were all breathtaking, even he and Kita had horns, matching those of rams, places upon their heads, with their hair decorated around it, to make it seem to fit. The outfits were spotted, white, brown, and black, and almost resembled a faux fur. Though, it was heavy on his head, and for that he didn’t care much for it. Still, Kita looked stunning, her hair pulled into buns to resemble the shape of horns, curled around the actual head-piece, with a long gown with some feathers that seemed to resemble the golden of chickens.
Every district received welcome applause, and Kita, form beside Lorenzo, offered a genuine smile, seeming to calm ever-so-slightly. Even the applause put him at ease a bit, feeling a bit less out of place. Offering a real smile of his own, he blew a kiss towards the crowd, charming personality strong. He noticed some people swoon, and chuckled softly, pointing it out to Kita with a grin. She too mimicked his actions and got similar results, and the two laughed merrily in shared content.
It was surprising how quickly things could go downhill. The screams of cheering melted in panic, something loud and haunting sounded. From nearby, Lorenzo spotted a flash, something too fast to be seen flew from the crowd.
Ducking, Lorenzo pulled on Kita’s arm as she froze, and he could spot other tributes doing the same. Another gunshot fired, and Lorenzo watched in horror as the bright green dress Lane was wearing started to stain with blood as she crumpled, Kaz catching her before he ran out of the chariot himself. His heart rate picked up immediately, adrenaline spiking into his veins, almost dizzying the boy from the sudden spike.
Unable to worry over the other girl, he tugged Kita’s arm and began to follow suit with other tributes as Capitolites surrounding the parade started to scatter in fear. Screams and shouts filled the square, voices undetectable to Lorenzo as he did his best to run as fast as he could without tripping.
Even President Louden was ushered from the scene, a fact Lorenzo spotted as he looked up frantically at his balcony, only to realize the man was gone. Peacekeepers were rushing into the area, and tributes in fanciful dresses were scattering like mad, peacekeepers and stylists alike frantically ushering them towards the training building.
Another flash, something hitting the ground and causing a collection of smoke. Lorenzo tugged Kita through it, letting off a few coughs as he did so. Another gunshot, and Lorenzo watched in astonishment as Theodore barely missed the bullet, though Sanna wasn’t as lucky, the bullet skimming her left arm. Luckily(or, well, unluckily if you wanted to be an asshole) both tributes were still able to move, though Theodore scampered off with a yell of panic and Sanna seemed to be in obvious pain.
From the corner of his eye, Lorenzo spotted peacekeeper, whose gun was facing the tributes, a dangerous glint in his eyes, with his helment thrown to the side. A peacekeeper whose body crumpled as another gunshot sounded, a blooming red overtaking the white of his uniform, right above his pelvis.
Though, his view of the scene became distorted, as soon as the man began to sink, more peacekeepers encircled him, batons up, and Lorenzo forced himself to look away, tugging a terrified Kita behind him as he ran up the steps to the Training Center.
Once his foot collided with the top step, he sunk to the ground, not realizing the terrified tears in his eyes as he looking back at the smoky scene. Chariots looking pristine, while medics rushed to injured tributes. Lane stood out starkly in her neon green, a medic already tending to the bullet wound in her shoulder. Another medic was helping an angry looking Sanna, whose arm was gushing blood. Another had went to help Theodore, before realizing that said boy was experiencing a bit of shock and was acting a bit melodramatic, though from how he was acting, it was like the whole event was a personal attack on Theodore.
Lorenzo couldn’t blame him, something like this had never happened before. It was unheard of.
He was shaken from his reverie as Kita’s presence was torn away, a fact that immediately caused him to panic, though he paused in his fear, ready to tackle whoever the oppressor was, noticing that it was Nathan, who was helping out Kita. The mentor looked terrified as he hugged Kita, checking her over for cuts, though his gaze wavered on Lorenzo.
“What happened?” Lorenzo choked out, his voice sounding strained, distressed, as he glanced back over his shoulder. It seemed another person had retaliated, one of the chariots, the one from 10, the chariot he was in only minutes ago, alight in a burst of flames. Though, to be honest, between all the smoke and peacekeepers, it was becoming hard to see. The sound of gunshots and shouts wasn’t though. He paced back and forth, nervously wiping sweat off onto his suit pants, before fumbling with a piece of cloth, anxious and nervous.
Nathan only glanced back at the scene, letting go of Kita in exchanged for tugging both of his tributes into the building, “Its too early to tell, but I can only assume it’s some form of...” he cut himself off, glancing to the side, like he knew he shouldn’t say it.
Lorenzo only pressed on, stepping closer to his mentor and District partner, watching as other tributes clung to their groups, fear in their eyes. Kaz himself ran up to his mentor and stylist, blood coating his green suit, as he frantically explained the situation. Everyone looked scared, even the Careers. He couldn’t blame him, things like this didn’t happen.
“Some form of what?” Lorenzo pushed, eager to hear whatever his mentor had thought. It wasn’t like Nathan to hold his tongue, but for some reason, in his fear, that slipped Lorenzo’s mind.
“I think some people are retaliating after 90 years of this, all it takes is a spark.” Nathan said, turning away, looking ghostly white, like he expected to be shot for simply uttering the words.
He didn’t need to finish that train of thought, it was obvious what the reference was.
All it takes for rebellion is one voice to stand up, for one too many dominoes to fall. One thing, happening out of order, and the whole system could crash.
For once, Lorenzo felt something budding, but he didn’t dare to call it hope. It was too dark and suffocating to be hope.
No, it was foreboding. Nothing about rebellion or revolution ever ended up good. No, nothing about these things ever ended as intended or wanted. Things always went horribly wrong. And in retaliation, maybe the Capitol would reap 4 from each district, maybe they would kill everyone to prove a point, maybe they’d move the games up. A worry, which buried itself in his mind, though he paused, glancing back at Sanna, Theodore, and Lane as they were ushered into the building, Lane only barely conscious, whatever point was trying to be proven was futile. The man who had done it was shot and then beat with the batons, and surely nothing was worth it.
Then again, he thought, oddly calm as he resumed his pacing, and followed behind Kita and Nathan, Something has to give.
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Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Aug 2, 2020 14:46:33 GMT -5
While grinning at Kita, Guinevere gestured towards some makeup she brought along with her, and materials for sewing. ”You’re a much prettier girl then the models at the firm I worked at. Much more natural, and very endearing,” she commented, before looking at Jason, ”And you, young man, could knock half of them dead in the water. I bet you get all kinds of girls and guys asking for your number,” she gushed. There was a motherly care to her, though it seemed she stiffened. Someone had anxiety, some degree of nervousness, and she turned her head slightly.
She grinned then, waving at Griffin, ”Come join us! Did you see that with River and Laurie? My goodness I’m going to have to give River the Shovel talk,” she commented, seeming genuinely excited, though her eyebrows furrowed, concern apparent on her face, ”Is something wrong though, Griffin?” she added, an almost bad sinking feeling in her chest.
Covering up the small scar she received in the fight against Penny with another hand, she looked over her nail polishes, picking out a pretty natural rose-gold color, holding it up as an offering to Griffin. She had no qualms about painting any person’s nails, it seemed.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 2, 2020 14:58:18 GMT -5
HUNGER GAMES AU SNIPPET Life in District 3 was about as one would expect, really. Full of factories and technology, but technology was something the district didn't really get to see much of for itself, despite having more access to electronics than most other districts. Value was placed on intelligence and innovation, but not too much. Being smart was a good thing, as long as you stayed within the lines. Being innovative and inventive was good, as long as what you created was for the good of the Capitol.
The district was filled with factories, in one of which fifteen-year-old Chiara Belcher was a worker. She was known as bright among the residents of the district, with a great aptitude for science. Her work was generally more theoretical, but living in District 3 with the kind of access she had to information and electronic parts, she couldn't help but dabble in some engineering too. She had hopes that once she aged out of eligibility for the Games she could begin climbing the ranks in the factories, maybe even get to the point of pitching her ideas for new technology. But for now, nobody wanted to take the risk of promoting her, giving her a higher salary and even paying for training, if she was at risk of being reaped.
Today was the reaping of the 91st Games, which meant a day off from her work at the factory. It was one of the rare days she'd gotten to sleep in, something she had taken advantage of before getting ready for the reaping. Presenting oneself in the square was mandatory unless one was on the brink of death, and Chiara was decidedly not so. They'd send peacekeepers to check if she didn't show on time, and her father was very averse to any kind of trouble with the peacekeepers. If they ended up knocking on the door he'd have a fit.
So, she'd gotten ready, taking great care in her appearance. Her hair was brushed smoothly and tied back carefully so that not even a single hair was out of place, pins carefully concealing any stray hairs and arranging the pure white lock of hair on her head carefully. If she got reaped, might as well have something visual to catch people's attention so they'd remember her. The girl with the pure white streak in her hair was as good as any for the moment. She'd even put a little water on a comb (she didn't have any of the expensive Capitol hair products) to tame any flyaways. Then she'd gotten dressed in her best clothes; a clean, loose-fitting white blouse with a navy blue skirt. She didn't look particularly special, but she looked neat and respectable, which was all one could hope for in District 3. They didn't have the kind of things the career districts did.
With this done, she'd bid her father goodbye with their usual icy distance before heading out to the square. It was a simple matter then of giving her hand for them to take her blood, before she joined the crowd on the girls' side of the square. She, being fifteen, was halfway through her period of eligibility for the Games. She'd been doing it long enough that she was used to it by now, but not yet long enough that she could see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Still, she'd listened to these same speeches year after year, so she tuned out the video and the Capitol escort's words, instead using the time to try to figure out her chances of being reaped.
The population of District 3 was 200,000 or thereabouts, of which roughly 23% were eighteen and under - roughly 46,000 children. Of these, about 66% would be under 12 and not eligible for the Games. That meant about 36,360 people too young for the Games, which left 15,640 children who could possibly be reaped for the Games. The number of times one's name was in the pot depended on their age and whether they'd taken tesserae, so Chiara decided it was easier to take the average and assume everyone's name was in 4 times like her, since the age groups were roughly the same size and four lay exactly halfway between the number of times a 12-year old tribute would have their name in and a 18-year-old, meaning it would hopefully balance out - which meant the chance of her name being chosen was 4 in 62,560, or still 1 in 15,640. And that wasn't including the people who chose tesserae; the odds were small.
But not nothing, as anyone familiar with science and mathematics would know.
Which was why when Chiara heard her name she was unprepared, but not surprised.
"Chiara Belcher!"
The girl paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as the crowd in front of her parted. She was terrified about the Games, of course, but this was not the time to show that. The cameras were on her, and this was her first impression to sponsors and to the other tributes. She wasn't stupid enough to look weak in front of the camera.
So she tried to stand talk and relax so she didn't shake or anything in front of the camera. She lifted her chin and looked carefully up at the stage in front of her. The steps she took up to the stage were deliberate and careful, but not slow; dragging her feet on the way to the stage would give as bad an impression as scurrying up to it.
Following this, the escort headed over to pick the male tribute, choosing Jason Bates. The boy, who had a comfortingly intelligent look in his eyes, stepped up onto the stage and shook her hand when instructed by the Capitol escort.
Jason seemed intelligent, which if she didn't team up with him in the Arena made him a viable threat in Chiara's eyes. Brains were dangerous in the Games. He brought back memories of last year's tributes; Destiny Ghere and Elliot Sawyer. Both had seemed like such nice kids, Elliot even allying himself with the youngest tribute in the Games in an attempt to protect her. Neither of them survived, of course. Nice people rarely did.
She turned back to the crowd then as the anthem blared behind her, waiting for this stupid spectacle to be over so she could have time to think and plan. Chiara was normally a nice person, but the way she saw it there would be no room for niceness now. Only applying the knowledge she knew in the hopes of finding some way of winning - or if not willing, doing something that might help stop this pageantry from going on any longer.
This was the Hunger Games, after all.
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Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Aug 2, 2020 15:46:16 GMT -5
Theo stared intently ahead, not moving his gaze in the slightest, even when the fire was put out and everyone else seemed to be calming down. However, once he noticed Ariella looking back at him, he quickly blinked his eyes to focus back at her. She seemed to be wondering if he was okay.
For a moment, he wasn’t able to get his words out as he looked at her. His thoughts continued to bounce around his head, but any sort of coherent idea seemed to be suppressed by a growing haze. He squinted as he looked down at his can of beer. Was he drunk? No, it couldn’t be. He felt fine either way. Pushing all his doubts to the side, he finished the can he was holding before tossing it aside and grabbing another one.
When it dawned on him that he didn’t give Ariella any sort of response, he looked back at her.
“...Do I look okay?” Theo muttered under his breath, only loud enough for the two of them to hear. His tone didn’t have a hint of sarcasm, it sounded more dejected than anything.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 2, 2020 15:59:23 GMT -5
HUNGER GAMES SNIPPET
After the introductory interviews with Gamemakers and stylists and the commentary of the reapings, one of Burton's first jobs as Master of Ceremonies was to help commentate on the tribute parades along with the Announcer of the Games, who had been responsible for announcing Burton as the Master of Ceremonies in his first appearance, and would be responsible for all announcements in the Arena.
"Good evening, Panem!" he announced with a big smile "I'm Catullus Acton, and you join me here tonight live from the Capitol to watch the moment we’ve all being waiting for; the tribute parade, as this year’s 24 brave tributes travel down the Avenue of the Tributes before officially entering the Training Centre to begin their training. Joining me here tonight is Perses Silverway, the Announcer for this year’s Games. Welcome, Perses.”
Burton turned with a smile to the man sitting beside him, who greeted Burton with a nod.
”It’s a pleasure to be here, Catullus,” Perses beamed ”I always look forward to this night every year; its importance for the tributes and the Capitol cannot be overstated.”
Perses had been the announcer last year, and his voice still made Burton’s blood run cold sometimes. His voice was still the one Burton heard in his dreams, announcing that the 90th Hunger Games had begun, ‘and may the odds be ever in your favour’. The familiar voice was so uncomfortable to Burton that it was difficult to keep the fake smile on his face.
”Yes, tell us more about that,” Burton invited ”Talk us through why this parade is so important.”
At least if Perses was talking, Burton didn’t have to.
”Well, it’s not just a chance for the stylists to show off their work. This is the moment we all first get a glimpse of the tributes all together, and that means the stylists have to work as hard as possible to both capture the essence of the district from which the tributes hail and also to reflect the image they want of their tributes. These outfits set the tone for how these tributes are to be presented to and perceived by the Capitol both before, during and – for the victor – after the Games. You’re the perfect example of this, Catullus, in fact,”
Perses waved his hand to bring up on the screen a clip from the last year’s Games of the tribute parade. A chariot with horses painstakingly painted blue and gold headed down the Alleyway of the Tributes. A boy with golden-brown hair and warm brown eyes waves and smiled to the crowd as he stood alongside a girl with pale skin, black hair and green eyes with a fiery gaze, who looked at the crowd with general disdain. Both were wearing blue and gold clothing.
Even seeing Holly there, that rebellious fire in her eyes, shattered Burton’s heart for a moment. His gaze even flickered away from the screen, choosing to focus on SIlverway instead, as if he were just very attentive to his guest rather than trying to avoid seeing Holly or clips from his Games.
”Besides the incredible work of Livia, your stylist, here we see how an image is cultivated; the way you’re smiling to the crowd perfectly encapsulates the friendly, cheerful and charming attitude you became known for during your Games. Not to mention that at this early stage you were already wearing the signature blue and gold that you still wear to this day.” Perses explained
”Exactly right,” Burton agreed, gesturing to his outfit with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, before letting a more serious expression fall on his face ”And that isn’t even the most important aspect of this parade. This is also the first true chance for the sponsors to evaluate their tribute options. The importance of this first impression cannot be overstated.”
Perses was agreeing with him when both men fell silent as music began to play. It was not long before the first chariot appeared on the runway, Burton oohing and aahing along with Perses about the inspired, crystal-like design of their clothing. Livia, who had shot to fame after Burton’s victory to become stylist for District 1, had outdone herself here.
They continued to talk about the theme of each district; the gladiator themes of 2, the technology themes of 3. The shimmering water-like effects of the District 4 costimes.
The two had just finished commenting on the beauty of District 12’s smoky, feathered outfits (and how sweet it was that they matched so clearly) and moved on to how amazing the stylists were at reflecting the character of each district – though Burton knew for a fact they were terrible at it – when something happened.
A loud sound, as the cheering turned to screaming. That was when Lane crumpled in her chariot, green dress stained with blood.
The gunshot sound was enough to bring back horrible memories for Burton, whose eyes widened in shock at what seemed to be happening. Under his makeup, the colour was draining from his cheeks. Tucked strategically under the desk, his hands were shaking and his leg jogging.
Luckily Perses seemed to be as shocked and panicked as he was.
”There’s been some sort of incident, Lane Sherwin appears to be injured,” Burton was saying frantically once he had regained his ability to speak.
He knew with dread in his heart what was happening; the commotion in the crowd as peacekeepers tried to converge on one man. Theodore and Sanna were hit soon afterwards, at which point a downright panicked Burton made a motion across his throat with his hand to cut the cameras.
He was lucky he did so before the cameras caught either the peacekeepers being shot or President Louden being escorted from the balcony.
Peacekeepers rushed in to escort Burton and Perses Silverway out of the room, and Burton cooperated numbly, his eyes staring ahead of him as they marched him down the corridor, the horrible echoing of cannons ringing in his ears
The dread filled him more and more as he thought through what had happened. Clearly, after 90 years, people had snapped. They wanted the Games to end. The seed of rebellion had been planted by Holly, both in the people of Panem and in Burton himself. It was just like the president had warned him all those months ago; rebellion.
And worst of all, the attack hadn’t happened in the Districts, but in the very heart of the Capitol.
Burton knew he would be getting a visit from Louden later that night, full of anger and threats. Telling Burton he hadn’t done a good enough job convincing the Districts he was on the Capitol’s side, that there was no rebellion to support. That he and Holly could not be the images of any rebellion. Telling Burton he hadn’t smiled wide enough, hadn’t made them laugh enough, hadn’t done enough to make the Games palatable to the masses.
Hadn’t condemned violence and rebellion enough, hadn’t praised the Capitol enough.
It likely wouldn’t result in the deaths of his family, not yet, but he had to assume he would suffer for what had happened that night. Louden didn’t let this kind of thing happen without making somebody pay for it.
He’d been through pain before, he could weather it, but he was scared.
What did any of this mean for him? Louden would punish him for tonight anyway if he could, but if there truly was a rebellion starting? Burton was not Capitol enough to convince the loyalists he was on their side, too rebellious to be one of them. For the rebels, he was too much of a Capitol lapdog, a fake puppet for Louden. Oh, if rebels marched on the Capitol he couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t kill him as a traitor.
All he could hope was that they contacted him as an ally instead, even if that would put him in more danger from Louden than ever before. Even if he had his family to lose.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Aug 2, 2020 17:18:35 GMT -5
When River took Laurie’s hand, it was like electricity spreading across his skin. So distracting that he almost didn’t catch what River said, but he did.
Laurie was his first kiss.
That in itself was kind of endearing, but Laurie knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell River so, because it might make him feel like Laurie was somehow making fun of him for it, which he wasn’t.
At his next words though, the boy smiled, a far softer smile than his usual one. His normal smile was wide, full of excitement and fun. But this one was gentle, warmer. A more vulnerable smile.
”Deal,” Laurie agreed, squeezing River’s hand, ”ensemble, together.”
That was as important to him as he could tell it was to River. They were in this together, that was vital. They needed to know the other had their backs.
Laurie cast a glance back towards the camp, before his eyes flitted back to the diamond-like moon and stars above them.
”we have a choice,” he offered quietly ”we can go back to the others, or we can spend a little more time out here alone together.”
He would be fine with either. The others wouldn’t start getting worried or anything, so they could stay there a while if they wanted. But it would probably also be good to check on Echo and make sure nobody underage had stolen any of Laurie’s alcohol. That was very important to him. Plus, the others were probably gossiping about them right at that very moment.
Personally, he could stay out there forever; the night wasn’t cold yet, the sky was clear, and he had River with him. But he wanted to leave that choice up to his companion.
The moment was sweet, and he didn’t want to ruin it by its ending.
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