Shades of Night || EmsxxSkitz

And what do I do if Harmonia is chosen next year, or the year after that? I'd volunteer, of course. But... What about when she's my age, and I'm too old to participate for her? Or Rhode? what would father do if Rhode were taken? At least, they know I could win. I've been training for so, so long. Her arms crossed before her, her forehead gently falling on her wrists. These very thoughts snaked their way through her skull, slithering out angrily. The wind kicked up again, sending spritz of water this way and that, dampening the bottoms of her blue jeans.

Her fists clenched, and she shifted at the sound of footsteps behind her, attempting to move from the bench. Though, it was awkward, and she found her form standing to face the new character with her knees pushing against the firm seat of the picnic table. She had been sitting smack dab in the middle of the bench, and regretted that choice now. She would have to step over the bench, closer to the male, or fling herself back onto the table to get away at this point. Her nervous expression cast in shadow from the hood, she shivered. His words sent uneasy waves down her spine, and the girl allowed her fingers to rise, gently flicking the fabric away from her face.

A ring of hair around her countenance seemed soaked along with most of her features, but the rest was relatively dry, and a spark of terror rested in her silvery eyes. She had never before met the male who now spoke so... So casually to her. He reminded her of a snake, a creature she'd never truly liked to begin with, but this man, this... Predator approached her at perhaps... Two in the morning. What else could he possibly want? No, she knew what it was he wanted. He probably had some violent object in his jacket, pressed into his fist.

Adrestria was never a good actress, and always got caught when she lied to her parents. Especially to her father- she recalled getting scolded for attempting to blame something on the new baby when she was only seven, and clenched her fists tighter. Why was she so afraid? Because he was violent looking, and emitted an air of danger? Of course. He loomed over her, much like a dangerous man would.

Her mind kicked into overdrive, and her games training took over. He was around... Six foot tall, she wanted to say. Taller than her by far, but his clothes hung limply from his skinny form. No help there- she'd seen kids skinnier than him down a boy who weighed nearly one and a half times her own weight. He was probably fast, far quicker than she could be, even when her muscles were warmed up and ready for a fight. But deep bags rested under his eyes. She could see that when the lightning flashed overhead, illuminating his pale flesh, and her own, tan skin.

Finally, slim lips parted, and a small cloud of warmth erupted from her mouth. "What do you want?" she questioned stiffly, not bothering to hide not only the bite, but the distrust from her voice. Adrestria did not want this boy getting the wrong impression of her. She was not one to trifle with, not one he could coerce into doing whatever it was he wanted. Slim fingers stretched and cracked at soaked sides, easily returning to their balled state.

She was Adrestria Jasper, daughter of a jewelsmith and a house wife, with two younger sisters, who looked to her for guidance. she had not yet had her first kiss, had not thought about what she would do after the age of eighteen. When people would ask her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she said 'A Victor' nearly until her fourteenth birthday. Now, she did not know, and that fear struck the girl's heart like the lightning overhead.

She did know for certain, however, she knew did not want to die here, and she did not want to die now. Hopefully, he might get the hint and leave the wrestler alone. The girl did not particularly want to fight the male standing before her. A rogue thought crossed her mind. Maybe I look just as violent to him too. With thick muscles, and an angry scrape over her forehead that trailed down nearly to her jaw, inflamed and angry from her practice earlier in the day. She probably looked just as dangerous to the man standing only a few feet away.

Fight, flight, freeze. Three types of reactions to dangerous situations. Normally, Adrestria was exceptionally well grounded and would have stayed and fought the demons away. She almost always did, in fact. under more normal circumstances, the old Adrestria would have screamed right back, something along the lines of What the fuck is your problem? I was only asking you something you little shit though things were different tonight. Her throat seemed to swell shut and her voicebox refused to work, only frightened gasps slipping through her parted lips. She found her mind wanting to beg, to plead for her life.

Finally, after struggling to allow the words to echo, she managed a faint "Yes." For good measure, she murmured a "Yes sir" after that. Her form slipped, her rear falling upon the top of the picnic table, wanting to sprint away from the figure before her- but she could not just run away. The only way to do that would be to swing her legs off the other side of the table, and his legs were long enough that he could follow her with ease. An escape plan, or time... One or the other she needed. The PKs liked to patrol here some nights, and faintly, she pondered if they ever came out during the storms.

Hands trembling violently, she raised them to be even with her face, fingers spread wide to show she meant no harm whatsoever. She would not say a word unless he ordered, unless he dictated it. Her eyes flicked to the left, her heart rising to her throat. Today was not the day Adrestria Jasper would call her end. She felt as though she had done nothing wrong- simply asking the question.

But he was probably addicted to the drugs he sold, and she knew he would not listen to reason. The darkness in his heart seemed too great to realize what he did. Adrestria wondered if he had siblings, brothers and sisters who relied heavily on him for support.

"P-P-Please" she whispered, her voice a quiet whisper, another flash of lightning dancing across the sky. "I-I-I have a family... S-S-sisters who need me..." Finally, she was thankful for the thick jacket she wore, an artifact from her father. The smell of fancy cigars rose from it, mixed with a cologne he applied on special occasions. Her mind wandered to her mother- what would she do if some random Peacekeeper found her daughter dead, in a park at two in the morning? What would her friends say? Would they shun her sisters, would her family be ostracized?

"W-Whatever you want. I don't have money, I don't have a wallet..." Oh gods above, what if he took her hands and face? What if he scarred her beyond all recognition, and the memory of her just... Faded into the darkness? What the hell hurt this man so badly he felt the need to-

She shivered away, halting her quickly racing mind.

Fuck, all she wanted was a quiet walk alone to help her sleep.