[shot in the dark] thundy, elegant

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing

She had never been on a train before. At first it had been a little bit daunting. The fastest she had ever gone was running pace, and suddenly she was flying along faster than she could take anything in. It gave her headaches, the speed, so she would close her eyes, and lean her forehead against the cool glass of the window, remembering every little detail of the justice building. The way the blood from Riley's torn arms had soaked the sleeves of her favourite dress, as he slipped her his lucky guitar pick. Her token. He would most likely never get it back, yet he was giving it to her. And then he was holding her to him, soaking her with warm crimson, crying, and all she could do was stand there in quiet surprise, nothing leaking out.

It was as if she had forgotten how to have a good cry, she couldn't remember the last time she had, and this didn't turn anything up either. She hadn't really processed it yet, the fact that she was going to die. But everything she thought about or looked at, reminded her of death. It was as if she were writing her own eulogy. One of the hardest goodbyes had been Chyba. Wrapping her arms around him, she had whispered comforting words into his ear, even though she was the one going to be taken away. She made Riley promise that he wouldn't let Chyba see the games. she didn't want him to watch her die. She didn't want any of them to watch her. To become less than the steady whole that she was sure to become with time in the games. Or maybe she'd die in the dreaded thing known as the bloodbath. Maybe she'd step off of her disk and some tribute would stab her through the heart because she was so unprepared.

She hadn't known what to say to her sisters, didn't know what might make it more bearable for them, or how she could protect them against this. So she simply pressed her forehead against their's, and let herself stand there for a moment, hearing their hearts beat. Maybe a bit girly and odd, but it had easily calmed Avon down, reminding her of a time when she shared a room with Riley and Nettie and they filled up the night with their sounds of sleep like unsettled dirt. She watched her home speed away out of the corner of her eye, wishing that she had the chance to say goodbye to Alphonse as well. But either he had not been able to come, just because he couldn't, or she had run out of time. She missed him already, normally she would have run to him first, telling him news. Now she hadn't even the chance to say goodbye.

On the train, she had gotten the chance to talk to the boy reaped with her. He had come into her designated room for goodbyes, and she hadn't minded. Only, she'd been a little bit curious as to why no one came to say goodbye to him. One would think that his little brother that he had rescued would be clamoring to say it. But no dice. She had warily watched him from the corner of her eye, just in case he decided to pick her off early. She was already beginning to feel a bit paranoid. But she had never seen this guy before, never even heard of him. Not that she knew many people in the Districts, she was such a recluse, unless you counted the ones she sometimes punched in the face. Fight Club. she would miss that, not that she wouldn't get enough emotional release in the games. But she would miss the fun of it, and the people. As well as the fact that there wasn't a very big chance of death.

Death. Was it something to fear? She ahd read somewhere that he was most often depicted as a skeleton in a cloak with a scythe. In a novel she had read, he had a horse named Binky, and he liked kittens. Of course, Death was not the same as Death. Death, she knew, could be very painful. Especially in the games. She wondered how she would die. It wasn't a morbid, oh poor me, thought. It was as if a five year old had just raised their hand in class and asked why the sky was blue. Avon knew it was coming one way or another, of course, she had always thought that it would be either in the ring, or when she turned a really old and big number and passed away in her sleep or something. Not torn apart in the games.

Before she really knew it, the train ride was over. District One isn't even that far from the Capitol. The buffeting sounds and smells of the new location had been glimpsed for a short moment before she and Reyes had been rushed off into a building where far too many people looked at her, and not enough knew about personal space. She had been poked and prodded, Her make-up people already gasping about her bone structure, and the fact that she had nice eyebrows, which had made her cheeks flame in embarrassment for her home. They acted as if District One was a place for homeless people or something, and not actually a thriving place. She had been wary of the room she was dropped in, finally, when the sun had gone down. the beds were too soft, and there was a person standing in the corner who wouldn't speak to her in the morning.

The word, 'Avox' had come to mind.

Of course Avon knew what an Avox was, who they were, but she knew that they came from the Districts, like herself. At this moment, she didn't really know if she would prefer being Avoxed, or death. Not long after, she had found herself sitting in the room she was in now, a little apart from Reyes, who she sometimes stole a glance at, but otherwise ignored, when a woman came into the room. The word 'slipped' couldn't be used to describe the lady. More like barged, really. something dinged in her mind, telling her it was the last Victor from District One, Topaz. She had lost her sister, and that's about all Avon really knew about her. She never watched the games, because in her household of no careers, she was the only one, and trying to keep it hidden. Besides, just because she liked punching people, didn't mean she loved the killing of innocents.

She was careful not to say anything too obvious in front of Reyes. there was no allying, and she didn't want him to know anything about her. "I know how to fight, and I know how to run." She settled back in her chair then, succesfully hiding, like she always could, the fear screaming away in the back of her skull. The animal she kept so carefully under lock and key, her actual feelings.