pyrite shore ϟ district one

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'Pyrite: this mineral has earned itself the nickname 'fool's gold' because of its resemblance to gold.'

"You two look so alike - are you sisters?" they query with big, bright eyes; as if they were actually intrigued by the relationships between the girl over there and yourself. You almost want to roll you eyes at their stupidity, and you're ever so infamous for doing that. You laugh a little brashly, a tone of self-worth high as it escapes your pink lips, tossing dark locks behind your head. "Twins" you answer, yet it's so sarcastic some might think you were joking. The fact that you are linked at all seems like a joke to you. For how could two so different - with your green eyes and hers a light hazel, brown hair tied up in a slick tail behind your head whilst hers hangs long and blonde with a sharp, angular face that screams intimidating whilst she looks softer, calmer, determined - have come from the same place?

You walk the walk and you talk the talk. Your stance is with confidence, with elegance, with grace - poised and ready to go, as if you were to uncoil like a spring and take off at any moment. A permanent frown seems to be plastered upon your face and etched into your porcelain skin. Furrowed eyebrows and a twisted scowl when you're annoyed, you cross your arms in a huff when things aren't perfect. The mirror screams sour, pale sheets of skin stretched across high cheekbones like the snow that falls on slanted rooftops in wintertime. You don't care about clothes or makeup, stupid things that have no purpose. You care about winning, perfection, power and control. And then the thought crosses your mind that perhaps you are like your twin, more than you really want to know - but you push it away for the time being and grit your teeth into a convinced pout.

You're not like Phena - who's all glitz and glamour, a prissy princess, with Aqua as a miniature version of herself right in tow. Phena, who thinks she's so prepared for the Games that she's stopped training almost altogether. Phena, who would rather rise to the top of her social circle than the top of the tribute list. Phena, who never really took this seriously to begin with. Phena, who expected her Victory handed to her on a plate, who never understood how much work she had to put in. Unlike you, who trained, and trained, and trained some more. You were never good enough (Not like Emerald, who was the favourite from the start and you so desperately want to be like) and probably never will be, because you can always improve. Always focused on training yourself and training your siblings, barking "Not good enough!" "Not fast enough!" "You wanna get killed on the first day? Keep that up!" Nothing is ever perfect for you, and others wonder if even a Victors Crown would be satisfactory for your pretty little head.

But perhaps, you are like Phena. Despite growing up in the same home, you thought that you were so different, such opposites of each-other. You liked blue and she liked pink. You were both put on the second-best shelf underneath precious, perfect Emmy. She liked to gossip behind people's backs, and you liked to direct your distaste towards others to their faces. You both hated being ignored, and still do. She cared about what people thought of her, and you didn't give a shit. Capitol beliefs fed to you both with your baby-food. For every one difference you can pluck from your head, another similarity comes to join it. Like twins, you think. One is automatically paired with another, no-matter how much you distaste your mind for it. Deceptive, perceptive, perhaps you're both more alike than you'd ever admit - because in the Shore household, there's only one victor, and you'd shove your own twin sister out of a window to wear the crown, right?

But all the sibling relationships in the Shore family aren't healthy, unless you classify screaming abuse, clawing to the top of the sibling podium and cutting off each-other's hair in the night as otherwise. You've always been near the top of the ladder, drumming skill after skill into your younger family members. You're hard-working, ruthless, and you don't give a damn if their legs feel like they're going to fall off. But training your siblings gives you a sense of authority, of righteousness. Ridicule them until they get it right. Nobody dares to question you, because one small hint at your faults and you're furious. Constructing obstacles and levels is almost fun, and you get a kick out of showing the younger kids how it's done. Sympathy is not an option - if you fall, you get back up. Gamemakers and tributes aren't going to feel sorry for them in the arena, so neither will you. You're just being honest, aren't you, Pyrite?

You're not all horrid though, are you? You're more than just a Career robot. You like the snow - it gives you an escape from the continuous cycle of your life that is eat, sleep, train. It's all you've ever really known - parents forcing you to train, train, train - and for what? For them to shower themselves in your glory? To live through you? You question if 'good' parenting is like this, if what they're doing is right. Of course, you're never having kids - you despise children - but if you were to, would you force this upon them for hours and hours a day? And for what - a chance at glory only to watch them die? Aren't parents supposed to love their kids, mourn their deaths - or were 'Career Parents' different? But you keep your thoughts to yourself, terrified of disappointing Mom and Dad. Not that they pay much attention to you, anyway.

You like to read, when you can - although since training took over your life, reading just hasn't been a priority. Your tall figure, long, lean limbs from training, hunched in a corner on a sofa, beanie on and book in hand as you hide away from the snow when it's too cold to train. You tell your parents it's a book from the Capitol, or school, or some other nonsense bullshit to keep them at bay - but more often than not, your nose is buried in history. Rebel history - and the different views on it. How the Districts came about, how the Capitol was formed, and they don't all shove pro-Capitol nonsense down your throat. And sure, because of your upbringing, you might not believe what the books have to tell you, but debates are intriguing. Phena would scoff if she found out, but you don't care what her prissy little head has to think. Soon enough, when Emmy finally leaves, you'll be the one rising to the top of the Shore children preference whilst Phena clings to her socialite status and her delusional dreams of life up top. And that's what really sets you two apart, isn't it, Py? You're a realist. She's a dreamer.

A human vulnerability
Doesn't mean that I am weak
Yeah, you may be good looking
But you're not a piece of art
I'm gonna make you fall

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