{ as darkness falls } python

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cass
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{ as darkness falls } python Jul 2, 2013 18:47:43 GMT -5

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Post by cass on Jul 2, 2013 18:47:43 GMT -5

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Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,

Opal Shore was, to say the least, in love with the Capitol.

From the rich, tasteful foods, to the plush, unbelievably comfortable furniture, Opal was enjoying herself immensely. Maybe it was partly to do with the fact that she was trying to lose herself in this expensive lifestyle before she died. That was the reason why. But she preferred to think of it as fun instead. The death party before the funeral. Fun, right? Smirking she picked up another strawberry, clamping it between her two front teeth she hopped up and onto her feet. The training clothes were tight and they fit to her body, and seemed to be shaped to show every curve and every bump. She was pleased. The clothes reminded her a lot of the clothes she had at home, the few times she got dressed up it was in dresses, shirt and shorts as tight as these. Biting down on the strawberry she could feel the wonderful fresh taste spill across her mouth. She loved strawberries the most and over these past few days she had grown a fondness for them. They offered a surprising variety of taste from bitter to sickly sweet and she found herself enjoying the ones closer to the bitter side. Bitter and sweet, just like me. She smirked. Throwing the part of the strawberry she did not eat into the closest bin she basically skipped over to the elevator. She was late for today’s training. Xanthus had already scuttled down.

Opal did not much like Xanthus that much, but then that appeared to be the mutual decision between the two of them, as much as Opal wanted to change that she did not have the heart to throw herself at him and expect him to like her. She had disliked him form first look, especially faster he had basically moved away from her, as though he was allergic to her. That had been embarrassing, but she had shrugged it off, determined to get to know her district partner. Well, at least, to find out why he did not like her. She had admitted to herself, however, how much she would have loved to have gone into the arena with him. Xanthus seemed like a nice guy, and he was a career after all. Besides, having that little bit of home with her was a comforting thought. But nothing had happened between the two of them, hell they had hardly spoken two words since the train ride. Time was ticking and Opal was starting to gain the opinion that he did not want to talk, or perhaps he was just not interested.

The young tribute from district one had awoken slightly disheartened this morning. It had become a small fear of hers that people did not like her and it had grown into this blossoming panic when she had started getting bullied. At first she had been unable to understand why she was getting bullied. And then suddenly her claustrophobia would kick in and the names would blur into an angry growl and she’d slip to her knees trying to force in air that would not come. The panic would crash over her like a wave and the walls would slowly drag themselves closer to her, until she could only scream. But there was no air and screaming was impossible.

Then the taunts would grow stronger as she curled up in on herself, gasping for air that was going in, but she could not feel it. Eventually she’d stumble to her feet and she’d run, as fast as she could. She fell a few times and the laughs would only increase. Opal ran to the elevator, suddenly in need of a distraction. The familiar sensation that crept along her when she was about to panic was coming and she knew she needed to calm down. The elevator was a very small space, and she bit her tongue, forcing herself to breath, forcing that growing pressure of the walls sliding inwards, to crush her and kill her to destroy her and… and she slipped to her knees. Get it together. She hissed. The elevator chimed and she jumped out, her feet stumbling in her haste. The she breathed, her hands holding her throat, as though it would help the oxygen to go in. It didn’t. Sliding to the floor of the door, beside the training centre she drew her knees upwards; she placed her head on them and breathed, forcing that air into her as much as she could.

I’m a mess. She almost laughed at the thought. She was a mess, but then she always had been, just right now she was trying to hide that. Messed up kids didn’t do well in the games. And Opal wanted to go home, she really did. She just had to get her act together; she just needed to focus and whatever else she needed to do. She needed to breathe. Slowly and unsteadily she got to her feet. Setting her features in a look of determination she pushed open the training centre doors and walked in. I’m a mess, I’m a fucking mess, let’s just hope no one else can see it.

Cathedral, where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,

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Last Edit: Jul 7, 2013 0:10:22 GMT -5 by cass

Python
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{ as darkness falls } python Jul 7, 2013 12:50:05 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Jul 7, 2013 12:50:05 GMT -5

Evidently, The Capitol did not take kindly to mischief.

There was an elevator and a staircase, the only connections she had to the other floors of the building that was her temporary prison. She had made multiple attempts to sneak to separate floors and leave a trail of unwelcome chaos in her wake, for the sake of amusement in the midst of making her identity well-known and memorable to her enemies. During each trial, however, there was somebody there to catch her and force her back into the Training Center where she belonged, and each time it was a struggle not to roll her eyes at her prison guards. She wasn’t going to harm anyone, nor was she going to pay any unsuspected visits despite their beliefs, but nothing seemed to waver their decisions. So, with an entire day’s planning having been tossed brutally outside by unrelenting Capitol security, she was stranded in the training area with the other tributes. Her first instinct was to watch; search for weakness, learn her enemies’ movements and methods, try to predict their individual strategies, and most of all, spot the formed alliances. The divisions were already almost obvious; she could see who would support who in the arena, she just didn’t know for how long. That was always the surprise, and silently, as her eyes prowled the area she hoped the inevitable betrayals would work to her advantage.

She had every tribute’s name and district memorized. She knew who had potential and who would most likely plummet to their deaths during the bloodbath. It was sick enjoyment, predicting who would die first and would run triumph until the very end. It kept her occupied for the time being as she discreetly sulked over the capitol spoiling her fun. Then, the imminent sensation of boredom crept into her system and infected her bones with the ache of desire for a purpose. She occupied herself at the knife station for as fair amount of time - demolishing targets with blades thinner than her fingers whilst paying no mind to any audiences that happened to linger. Target practice, while helpful, was also relatively uneventful (she has been doing this for years, after all. Having an audience made only a small impact), and the ache for variety returned to her system. This time it was accompanied by a selfish desire for the capitol’s famous trays of delicious food. With the idea already deeply implanted in her mind, she wandered out of the training center and into the Dining Hall to help herself. She plucked a few fruits and chocolates from various trays and helped herself. She could not decide whether it was more cruel or generous of the capitol to bury them in luxurious foods before sending them off to death, but she decided she appreciated the treatment regardless.

Sighing contently with sugars pumping through her vessels, she abandoned the plates of temptation and headed back toward the sweat-laced atmosphere of the training area rather than making more efforts to explore foreign floors. It was just before she reached a corner that she heard the familiar hum of the elevator and the shifting of the doors. Deciding she did not want to be spotted by whomever would emerge through those doors, she halted her footsteps and peered cautiously around the corner, the sound of ragged breaths replacing the whispers of her own lungs. She noticed the familiar figure curled by the training center’s doors, and recognized her as Opal Shore - fellow career and reliable ally. Her head was buried in her kneecaps, but the heaving of her chest and the sounds of desperate breaths were enough to give Locust a partial story. There was something - or someone- causing panic, and depriving her of precious oxygen as a result. There was not another soul present nearby, so was it an anxiety attack? Or perhaps her strange but dangerously stealthy district partner, Xanthus, who had frightened her somehow? She could not come to a conclusion, even as Opal climbed to her feet with newfound determination and vanished behind closed doors. She thought it wise not to reveal her knowledge of this incident.

She waited another minute or so before returning to the room to eliminate possible suspicion on Opal’s end, then roamed silently through the area until she took the liberty of approaching her previously-distraught ally.

”What shall it be this time? Plants, again?” She asked, obviously referring to her choice in training stations. The girl certainly had an odd attraction to plants. ”You must own a garden.”[/justify][/blockquote]

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2013 12:52:20 GMT -5 by Python