We Can Burn Brighter // [ALL 61st Tribs]

( P E N E L O P E C A L Y P S O L I B E R T I N E )

All along the western front
People line up to receive
She got the current in her hand
Just shock you
Like you won't believe

You are barefoot and wearing your nightgown, racing through the hallways hand-in-hand with Fitz Ripley and this is beginning to feel like always. Tugging him along as if you are a riptide within which he has abandoned efforts to fight against your persistent pull ("We're going!" The declaration came without hesitation. Come on, Fitz, I'm not sure sharing a room is enough; let's live together.) you almost go somersault-trip-fall-tumbling over your own feet each time you whip around a corner with a bubbling laugh that neglects apologies. Be careful, Penelope. If you fall, he will follow. By the time the two of you have arrived, the energy has gone bursting from your body and into the places where away lives. Suddenly, you are not as confident about the destination as you were the about the best way to get there.

Frozen in your own indecision, it's Fitz who takes the first step into the place that is surely beyond you somehow. You are destined for a great beyond, but tonight will not bring you there, although it certainly has a plan in mind for you. With a deep breath, as if you are leaping off a cliff into a sea of deep water and true faith, you gather up your electric impulses and fling yourself through the doorway into whatever may be awaiting you. Fearlessness is not so difficult, it seems. Skidding across the floor with flailing arms, an echo of your earlier laughter, and a mess of sun-stained hair flying as wild as a flock of seagulls, you forget the entire world for an instant and reach out for the nearest arm to help steady yourself. When you're short on time, you're supposed to hurry. "Sorry! You know when your heart gets ahead of your feet? I think I —" Pausing, you try to stop yourself from saying things even more ridiculous than you look and although the adrenaline swirling through your thoughts makes this difficult, you swallow your faraway words down before you can explain about how your sea legs don't work so well on land and settle instead for an awkward laugh and "Hello!"

Sun in the amazon
With the voltage
Running through her skin
Standing there with nothing on
She gonna teach me how to swim

Felix Valentine Trusdale
Avox ~ February

p a n d o r a + w o o d a r d s

_{Forget about the dirty looks
the photographs your boyfriend took
you said you read me like a book
but the pages are all torn and frayed}

<sub>People still converse, I notice that they're sticking to the groups formed in training. The alliances are in act even here. I grunt, not having a group to go to. I guess maybe my bold statement in my interview labels me as a lone wolf. They're avoiding me, I can feel it in their gaze. This should make me feel strong, but it makes me lonelier than ever. I don't want to die alone.

Then I get a tap on the shoulder. I spin quickly, but no one is there. A look of confusion brews on my face before I'm punched playfully on the arm. I spin again, my vision more blurred in the motion.
"Hey there," Says Destiny, and all of a sudden I don't feel quite so alone. Someone I can talk and relate to at least. I smile slowly.
"Oh, hello!" She looks down at the empty bottle from which I drank. I've been here five minutes and I've already downed an entire bottle of... Of whatever.

"Feeling tipsy?" She asks with a raise of an eyebrow. I nod slowly, looking around for another bottle. Destiny yanks the bottle from my numb hands and tips it upside down. Nothing comes out. She pouts, as if I've let her down.
"What gives? You didn't leave any for me!" She chimes and darts off, looking for some alcohol of her own. I too begin to rummage around for some liquid confidence and find it in a smaller bottle of Whiskey. I take a sip, it's good stuff, I've not had it before. The fiery substance practically makes my head buzz.

Destiny comes back with a bottle of her own, drinking it like it's water. I guess this is the moment that I realize that I'm going to die. Really and truly. This party is a final celebration of life, twenty three of us are going to die, I'm pretty sure I'm one of them. So celebrate, Pandora, celebrate this final night. 'Cause this is the last party you'll ever have.

"You didn't seem to have trouble locating more..." I grin, nodding at the already emptying bottle in her hands. The alcohol makes me upbeat, without it I'd struggle to cope. Whilst my sister Hope is crying herself to sleep, I'm out getting drunk and partying with the people I'll be killing tomorrow. This situation couldn't get any more ridiculous.

"You er-... You looked... Nice... In your dress..." I say, referring to her interview. I cuss under my breath, I'm usually good at complimenting a girl, but for some reason it's coming out shaky and nervous. Maybe it's the alcohol that's affecting my confidence, I've never had this issue before. Whilst I'm still wearing my interview suit, she's in her nightgown. I guess she was trying to sleep when the slip came through, as impossible as that seems. Who could sleep the night before their death sentence?

I'm annoyed I'm not as smooth as usual, this isn't the cocky, arrogant Pandora, this is withdrawn Pandora. I bite the inside of my cheek and try to drink as much Whiskey as humanly possible in one go, washing away these worries.</sub>