a royal encounter | {dee/dars} | Hunger Games: The RPG

a royal encounter | {dee/dars} Mar 29, 2015 17:06:51 GMT -5

Post by hesper hart 🐺 d9f on Mar 29, 2015 17:06:51 GMT -5

KIERAN

He had always been a bit too bitter for the likes of a small child's mind. While regular children worried about things like how long they were going to continue playing with their friends before it got dark, what would be for dinner that day, or how much trouble they would be in for breaking something, Kieran thought about how happy his father probably was with his family. (His real family.) He thought about how sad his mother was, how unfair it was for her to have to raise him alone. It was true, he was completely aware of the realities of his life, and whether that should have been treated with respect or sadness he did not know. Frankly, he didn't care.

In his little nine-year-old mind, he didn't bother to consider the feelings of the others in District twelve. His mother had warned him time and time again that not everyone had been as blessed as he, to have been born as the spawn of not one but two victors. She had scolded him for complaining about how dirty everything always was outside the home, how the way everyone dressed made him uncomfortable, how their scents always made him gag. It was offensive to a very high degree, but he didn't care. Through the pretty blue eyes he had inherited from his father, he believed if he was unhappy, everyone else should have been as well.

He was just old enough that his mother let him go off and play on his own, so long as he never strayed too far from the Victor's Village. Sometimes he would knock on Arbor's door and ask if Cedar could play, but the boy was quite a few years younger than Kieran, so most of their playtime involved Kieran instructing him to do things because he was too lazy to carry them out himself. That day, he did not feel like playing with Cedar, so instead, he did what he was not supposed to do. He sneaked out of the large, wrought-iron gates that marked the entrance of his home neighborhood, and into the gross, dusty old paths of the less fortunate.

People walked by, all of them stealing tiny glimpses at the Victor's Village, eyes jaded with envy, and one girl in particular lingered for far too long. She seemed a bit more clean than most, Kieran realized, and her hair looked a bit like his mother's, so the small boy placed his hands on his hips and addressed the girl. "My name is Kieran Emberstatt, what's yours?"

fall head first
like paper planes
and playground games

a royal encounter | {dee/dars} Mar 29, 2015 18:40:51 GMT -5

Post by ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ on Mar 29, 2015 18:40:51 GMT -5

She never took this pathway. The ever present reminder of the Games would always linger on that road that many took out of convenience, but some used as a way to let out the envy heavy in their hearts. Her father always told her to stay away from the area, that the last thing she needed for her sanity was to see something she could not attain. He was right; she knew herself and her mind and body enough to take as many cautions as necessary. She was fragile—just like glass, her brother would say—and she never knew what or who could provoke her.

But with each passing year, her curiosity grew until finally, she just had to know why so many customers in her father’s tanning shop would keep talking about it. Chloë could not recount the many times she had heard the other people talk about the inhabited Victor’s Village, not since District 12 had their first inhabitant after the 54th Games. Soon, more tributes from District 12 came home and soon after that, the voices of children would ring through the courtyard as life continued for the tributes.

At least that was what the customers would say. She would feel so far removed from their discussion that she took it upon herself to take the more convenient road for the first time in a while, and see what everyone else was talking about. She had told her father that she would be out running errands, a basket in her hand. It was not a complete lie—the full basket in her hand was evidence of that—but she knew better than to tell him which route she would take. He was always far more protective over her than her brothers and for years, she did not mind. Not today, though. Today will be different.

The day was just like any other day but for the first time, her foot stepped on that pathway and another one followed. She could see the gated area growing the closer she got to it, and her arm instinctively clenched her abdomen in preparation for the waves of pain she knew she would feel. But they never did catch up to her and soon her feet were planted just a little off the path, staring at the area that she would never know and perhaps never envy. When she was younger, she always preferred to be alone, closed off, because she never knew who would be the one to set her off. However, she also could not imagine living in a place where she was essentially separate from the rest of the district. No one ever spoke about it in that way, but there was always that divide between the Victors and their families and the rest of the citizens in District 12.

Perhaps she should have told her feet to continue moving one after the other to reach home. Perhaps she should have kept her eyes averted and instead focused on something else. But she had done neither and she was confronted by a young boy, he couldn’t have been any older than 10, with more confidence than she could ever have. His name reminded her that this was one of the children of the Victors—the child of the two Victors, rather. Kieran Emberstatt, the son of the male Victor of the 59th Hunger Games who resided in District 10 and the female Victor of the 56th Hunger Games who resided in District 12. Despite his foreign last name, the young boy was as District 12 as he could possibly be.

Chloë could not understand but she felt so intimidated by the boy, by the way he stood and the way he spoke. She was not accustomed to this, but then again, she had the feeling that most of the people weren’t. “Chloë,” she managed to spit out softly, her voice timid as her mind tried to prevent her body from shaking. “My name is Chloë.” Why is he talking to me? What does he want from me? The questions swirled her mind as she could feel the hand holding the basket start to shake. Oh no, Father was right. I never should have taken this path. But I was doing alright, alright until… “Is there…something I can help you with?” she asked, hoping the release of words would calm her.