Atticus Lombrary | District 6 | FIN
Aug 10, 2015 5:46:33 GMT -5
Post by ali on Aug 10, 2015 5:46:33 GMT -5
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Atticus Lombrary | ||
| Atticus stands, quietly, mournfully, looking down at her grave. The wind is chilly but the older man, aged 52 and counting, seemingly ignores the cold which wracks through his aging bones. It is oddly peaceful, stood in the graveyard overlooking his wife and daughter. Cara. Alikia. The names are almost foreign to him now, their faces are blured and he can't quite remember their voices, their laughs however come to him in a heart beat. Cara's, soft as summer rain and a song birds song for Alikia. He sighs again, kicking at the snow. It'd been 15 years, 15 years since they had shipped his daughter home in a box. He remembered it well, just like he rememebred watching her take her last breaths so far from home. It had been agonising, seeing Alikia in that coffin so peaceful and still beautiful, as if she had been sleeping, and the wound was still there but time had healed it slightly. His wifes death, however, had left a much deeper scar. He wished Cara had lived through that winter. Winter had been his favourite season, up until his wifes death when Alikia was 8. She had been too young, she had been so gentle; she did not deserve Ripred iron grasp, tugging her from life and into the unknown. He rarely thought of Cara these days- the pain, though aged, was still fresh in his mind most mornings when he woke with tears in the corners of his grey eyes. When he did think of her, he thought of her as she were when they first met in High Schoo; highschool sweethearts they'd been dubbed. It had been true. Growing up in the care of the state, with no mother or father, had been tricky and had stripped Atticus of most emotions that seemed to make the world turn. He had thought that he had been washed, cleansed of emotion at least. The carers at the home were not kind woman, and did not take kindly to most things, Atticus had been beaten often with a riding crop over the back fo the legs several times during his childhood because he simply stepped out of line, smiled, laughed at the wrong time. He thought he would never feel things like love or happiness; then he had met Cara. Then she died, when he was 34 and she was 33. He'd been a loss without her and somehow, stupidly, ended up in some womans bed; now he had another child in the games. A child he had only become aware of the year after Alikia's death. Irony he'd called it, scoffing to himself when he had read the letter in the post that morning from a woman named Rachelle, telling him he had a daughter; but she didn't want him seeing her. Atticus wanted to be there for his children, unlike his own father had been for him when his mother had passed away giving birth to him. With the girl named Gabrielle, he did not get that chance. Now he never would. I wonder where she will be buried thought Atticus as he looked up from Alikia and Cara's grave to the several hundred that lay around him. She wasn't dead yet, he had to remind himself that but he didn't have much hope these days. The world looked bleak to him,vague and ending. He was not happy here, he had not been a happy man much these 15 years. Except when he looked at Sairose. His lips twitched into a slight smile. Sairose was his anchor. She'd been born to some woman he'd met shortly after Alika had died, little under a year after her death; her mother had passed away due to complications from the birth and because he was still in a relationship with her at the time, he became Sairose's legal guardian. Not that he woulld have pushed for anything but that; the last thing he wanted was a child of his to receive the care he had when he was a boy. Sairose scarily looked like him, rather than her mother. With grey eyes, ashen hair and square face; the rare pictures of him when he were a child could be hung up beside pictures of Sairose and they looked almost like twins rather than father and daughter. Though the two could be no different, Sairose was a little ball on energy, bouncing off the walls and screaming instead of talking. She was adorable, but, a lot to handle. She was brave. And that frightens me. She'd only just turned 12, there was an age until the reaping came around again but that didn't stop him feeling absolutely mortified at the thought of losing another girl. While at work in the factories, he heard talk of rebelion and riots. He never spoke up about them, he was a good man, but hell he would never join in. He'd learnt to keep his opinions to himself- not that he often had opinions. He never questioned the way Panem ran, the way it worked, the way children in the Capitol bathed in gold while kids in 6 starved. He never questioned it because he was afraid. He wasn't afraid of what they would do to him if they found out, he was afraid that Sairose- the only thing he had left in this world- would wither away and die without him there to look after her. Atticus took a deep breath and shook the thought from his mind. He didn't want to consider that, not now and not ever again. In the distance he heard the clock bell chime and he froze, momentarily, before looking off in that direction. He knew the clock bell ringing meant that a District 6 tribute was dead. | ||
| FC: Sean Bean | Odair | Played by Ali |
