I Followed Fires {Charlotte/Owen}

charlotte {♔} brownings

Not stepping down quickly became one of the biggest regrets on an even larger list, the entire situation was more than a bore and the pure fuckery that was the only two people she met thus far left her ribs bitter with disgustful chuckles. Jem had been a lame ass ever since she first met him (literally two days ago), while that Sonja lass was as much of a damned thick skull as they seemed to come; at least district one had its fair share of egotistical assholes that were fun to watch in their own right, here everything reeked of sticky desperation. Everything lacked a sense of warmth as well, and not just in some metaphorical, cheesy sense, the air felt cold, stuffy and metal like her lungs were licking fucking chrome every time they had to fulfill their damn job.

Watching the influx of tributes try their hands at weapon stations (swords, knives, blunts, they all blurred into the same taste of what-the-fuck-are-they-even-doing) grew to be more tiresome than entertaining, with each passing fleet of screw ups and fuck ups increasing as the day went on. The urge to school a bitch tugged at her stomach, to jump up and behead something, smash handfuls, break a thing, just show how not to fuck up literally the easiest things, ripred bless if they manage to hold a pole sword with some damned confidence. If this was the competition then she was close to Julian Bryze-ing this arena.

Hallow belonging was the only thing around the weapon booths after long, each of the other insolent children moving on to a different area leaving on Charlotte and her lonesome; unlike the wondering tributes rotating around the room like clockwork, the cool stone floor glued her feet in place, coated there to her head in a torpid angst. Tangled heap of black hair caught in her pale fingers, a slight fuck escaping her mouth from either the jerk of her hair or the jerk making over to the wall she found herself against. Against the other tributes, she was nothing but a backdrop, yet this asshole decided to take at her instead.

Gracefully, like a beached whale, his chin meet with the ground parallel, exhale sputtering from his mouth like an untied balloon before elbowing his way back onto eye level with her knee, temptation of prodding his face with it rising and passing. The phrase "Owen, and you are?" blurting out into the air towards her like he was unsure of his own damn name, confidence obviously lost somewhere on the ground. Between the itch that was watching others flop around during training to what the hell this Owen is, pounding began against her forehead and furred brow.

"Somebody with more than one eyebrow," she mumbled out, more into her own hand rather to the boy on the ground, sizing him up past the fact that he was on the ground and not eye level. Tall and well-built, at least worth something. But damn, if she could find just one tribute worth fucking something. Her arm shot out like the words she spat out, mostly meant as an one-sided welcome rather an offer of help.

charlotte {♔} brownings

In between them sat nothing but silence, his cocky chin eye level with her eyes forcing her to look up figuratively at him, some stupid expression smeared across his face from either falling on his ass or Charlotte's snide remarks. Thin fingers fumble back into her pockets waiting for an excuse to dismiss this bloodbath fodder; why the hell was he still here anyways? His balance wavered before spitting out some reiteration of his earlier questions, red painting his cheeks like overcast while his voice shook and then dropping his line onto the floor, obviously begging for a name to put to her pretty little face. Anxiety blurring onto his face in the evident eye motions peering for an answer and waiting in a sea of nope, perched onto the idea that she owed him an answer, until blurting out an estranged "I swear, I’m not usually this clumsy, as hard as it is to believe.”

Anonymously existing seemed like an okay idea at the time, fondling between people noticing her but not caring enough to show and being able to, furthermore, ignore everybody ten percent more; a life full of disinterest twenty-four seven, or in other words, her past relationship. However, this 'Owen' kid literally would not take a hint right now, apathy soothing out of Charlotte's pores in the place of nervous sweat while she amassed a properly improper response to give him a calm greetings to fuckoffville. Eventually she just let go a "Charlotte, from who the hell cares," in between an exasperated sigh and an eye twitch, taking the time to size him up before tucking her arms together. "Because really kid," her voice lingering on the up as if to catch her own attention, "who the hell cares."

charlotte {♔} brownings

"Charlotte, that's a pretty name."

The words came out mocking her mother's (rarely did she even remember the existence of that asshole, even with the memories far from being vague) raspy, a mix of a whisper and yelling unable to make up its mind; when she still had her mother around the statement rehashed itself like a bruise every time her matriarch saw the red marker etches across the wall attempting to claim. Lingering around it was a scent of stupidity, like she was just writing her name to remember it, but she wasn't; that sprawl was her acknowledging what her name was, Charlotte, not Charlie. Charlie was her father- robust, unruly, stuck in an eternal stupid guffaw- Charlie meant ignorance, useless, dead, and she was not. She was not fucking stupid, she was Charlotte, plain and simple.

Aggravation perched onto her brow as the boy droned on about her name as if it would kill to call her by the right name, her thought running into one another attempting to ignore the topic at hand while a grin tugged into the right corner of his lip forming some half assed, ill forsaken grin. His tongue fit uncomfortably in his mouth as he talked, like it was swollen from over use, the words sliding off of it mixing into a blur until the "alright if I call you Charlie," slipped off. Falling open, the words "literally no, you can't," escaping from her mouth in place of exhale, blowing onto his face nearly instantaneously in assault to his words.

"My name isn't fucking Charlie,"