when i was alone { arc!train }

When they came, he didn’t cry.

Daniel didn’t cry because he needed to show them that he was strong and that he could handle living without them for a while. The tribute -an odd name for him- didn’t cry because he wanted to show he was strong, that they didn’t need to worry about him and god damn it hurt to do so. It hurt to let go of the idea of emotion. It hurt to see his siblings so upset to see his leaving- it hurt to see the betrayed look that played in Blanche’s eyes.

It felt like it’d take ages before that image would ever leave his mind. It felt like ages had passed by before being released from the Justice Building and his brain seemed to be a blur- he met another sibling that he had never known before and he was going to probably end up dying the same way as Sue- cold blood battle. And there would not be one sign of happiness, one clue of sadness in Daniel’s expression. Nobody could afford to show emotion in such a case. Emotion shows weakness, and weaknesses are never a thing to show your scars with.

It was a quick arrival to the train and he assumed that the escort would keep talking gibberish about what was to be expected in the capitol and how ‘lucky’ he and Iris were (yeah, like we’re lucky to be getting sent to our death’s). Apparently, it was lucky to be volunteering for death.

A sigh and a shake of his head soon followed the idea, soon resulting in Daniel walking off to grab an apple- a simple item. He took a bite out of it and soon stepped over to the female who had volunteered just like he and sat across from her. He swallowed the bite and gave a nod at her. The male from seven didn’t bother speaking, so he looked out of the window as the train started and started to chug away from his home.

The home where Sue Tate once roamed, a home where he used to be able to be happy and not worry about his entire life and questioning what was a truth and what was a lie of it.

The home where he met Blanche, and broke the promise he once gave her. He has another promise, though this one must be hard to keep. Staying alive, which is the hardest thing to do where he's going.

Taking another bite of the apple, it was the first luxury he was able to find.

table inspired by rook

He senses her eyes upon him, as if it were to be a look of questioning. A look that made her seem like she wanted something, however he ignored it- people normally stared at him due to the inheritance of a beard from his father (because his father obviously has the best genes).

His mind was in a different world at that time. It was surrounded by the life he once lived that he didn’t have to worry about people lying to him. Where life could slide past easily and he wouldn’t have to remember watching his brother lose his life in a battle designated for vengeance in rebellion. Where he didn’t have to know that the life he had once lived as a truth was all a big lie. He thought that he was the only male child in his family. He assumed it- and god, when he found out he was wrong it hurt.

On the day he figured out that he was not alone, that he figured out he had a brother and the day that brother died he had one promise to himself. And that promise was to never to lie to someone again. Sometimes, promises are meant to be broken.

Today was the day he met another brother, and it was an odd meeting to have, but in all reality it didn’t surprise him. His father wasn’t the most committed person of all people to a single relationship. It was like a cult of sin he held, though each woman was unaware of the sin he was dancing with. Or, at least, unaware at the time.

His mind had been awoken by the sudden interruption of the district partner that he would have to see in the sky in order to return home to the family he once knew.

Iris spoke to him, a greeting that practically described the adjective of nervous as her voice seemed to show confusion. It gave a sign of worry, that she wasn’t sure what was going to happen with the conversation she was starting. ”Uh… hi.” Was all she said. She tried to sound confident, brave in her next coming question. ”You ready to murder viciously?” She soon tried to keep that confidence, but it faltered into a cringe.

Who the fuck does she think she is, asking that right off of the bat? Who is she to even think that? He gulped down his protests, bit his tongue on the words he wanted to speak. (”Of course! Why else would I have volunteered?”) Enemies were not a thing he wanted at this time.

Daniel grunted, looking out of the window with a sigh that seemed a bit unenthusiastic. ”Just as ready as any other normal person is.”

If anyone was normal, it wasn’t him.

table inspired by rook