fairly local; aya [blitz]

The quell twist had been to some a curse, and to others, a blessing. To a district whose main industry seemed to be rising beyond the average quota of hard headed and hearted tributes, the latter stood true. For this, Elya Johnwayne, along with her district partners (none of who seemed to differentiate much at all), were obviously holding the family flag high, a living representation of that which did not matter to anyone who actually feared death like the sane.

Then again, sanity was to be seen and with only one eye I can imagine that Elya Johnwayne wasn’t seeing much. But then again, with a name like Johnwayne and a brother like Dan, I doubted sanity was at the top of her priority list. She knew as well as anyone that now a world was watching to see if she would carve a path that fluctuated from her brother's, but then again, she didn’t seem like the type to hide in a shadow of any kind.

Then again, darkness and the dead go hand in hand.

Lost behind a conversation I could not previously carry and a burden I could not toss, I drifted from the group I had previously been standing in the shadows of—a presence that wouldn’t be missed regardless. Striding towards a passing shoulder I count the steps it takes to reach her, twenty-two paces and I’m fumbling over the words in my mind until they straighten into strands of letters woven around a center of glass. Never able to make eye-contact I keep my eyes trained on the wall as we stand shoulder to shoulder, focus shifted in opposite directions.

My gaze does not waver, not with the passing faces and flickering light, for I am determined to be the voice in her ear if it ends me—one step from death but I’m already gone, “What’s the chance I get your attention by shouting ‘land ho’?”