Words to live by// Yoya (Train thread)
Oct 1, 2016 19:41:48 GMT -5
Post by charade on Oct 1, 2016 19:41:48 GMT -5
Maye
The train was silent like a grave, which was a terrible comparison, so Maye settled for silent as the district outside her window at night. That was slightly better. What was really better was all the food laid out in front of them. It was more than she’d ever seen in the group home, and tasted pretty damn good to boot. She’d figured that out on her own, as their escort had left the room. Their escort was a woman named Star, and her outfit was definitely bejeweled enough to turn her into one. It was hard on the eyes actually. Maye had told her accordingly and the escort had gone off to the bathroom in a huff.
The utensils were nice too, and she tried to fit a couple into her pocket.
They wouldn’t.
Seeing no other option, she slipped one of the forks down the front of her shirt when she thought that Jackson wasn’t looking and resolved to ask Star for a bag. If I had known the insides of these things were so nice, I would have worn pants.
…
Actually, If I had known I was getting fucking reaped today, I definitely would have worn pants.This skirt is way too short for being around celebrities. Well, I mean, if they even bother talking to me. They all have tributes and I’m just a girl from a district that’s never managed to be relevant. God this sucks, I have so much to say and no one to talk to except for tall dark and limping over here.
Then again…
Maye munched on a double chocolate chip cookie and flashed him a dazzling smile. “Hello. I’m Maye. You’re Jackson. That’s the introductions out of the way. Hooray!” she crowed, throwing her arms into the air and accidently launching what was left of the cookie into the ceiling. The crumbs rained down and she giggled before grabbing another one. “So, a couple ground rules,” she continued, holding up her free hand in a fist and ticking things off as she raised her fingers. “I have a tendency to talk when I’m bored or have nothing else to do. Or when I'm on the edge of panic. She added silently.
“So deal with it, uhm, what else?” she murmured, looking up in thought. “Right. Banging guys I just met just because we’re going to die isn’t my idea of romance, it’s actually like depressing? So don’t get any ideas.” She winked and then started laughing. “I’m gonna try to avoid you in the arena as long as I can because well, you’re from home, so killing you would suck and not in the turning tricks for lonely peacekeepers in a back alley kind of way, more in the, oh my god this is soul-crushing because I didn’t have anyone else to talk to for the weeks leading up to the arena and now he’s dead so sad face."
She paused, and gave him a pointed look. "Not that I have any firsthand experience with that first example. Just so you know. I’m a lady. But you’d let me know if you were planning to kill me right?” Without even waiting for him to reply she stuffed the pastry into her face and grabbed another one. “Anyway, I don’t know about you, but I plan on eating chocolate until I make myself sick. Cookie?” she finished with wide eyes, holding one out to him.
The utensils were nice too, and she tried to fit a couple into her pocket.
They wouldn’t.
Seeing no other option, she slipped one of the forks down the front of her shirt when she thought that Jackson wasn’t looking and resolved to ask Star for a bag. If I had known the insides of these things were so nice, I would have worn pants.
…
Actually, If I had known I was getting fucking reaped today, I definitely would have worn pants.This skirt is way too short for being around celebrities. Well, I mean, if they even bother talking to me. They all have tributes and I’m just a girl from a district that’s never managed to be relevant. God this sucks, I have so much to say and no one to talk to except for tall dark and limping over here.
Then again…
Maye munched on a double chocolate chip cookie and flashed him a dazzling smile. “Hello. I’m Maye. You’re Jackson. That’s the introductions out of the way. Hooray!” she crowed, throwing her arms into the air and accidently launching what was left of the cookie into the ceiling. The crumbs rained down and she giggled before grabbing another one. “So, a couple ground rules,” she continued, holding up her free hand in a fist and ticking things off as she raised her fingers. “I have a tendency to talk when I’m bored or have nothing else to do. Or when I'm on the edge of panic. She added silently.
“So deal with it, uhm, what else?” she murmured, looking up in thought. “Right. Banging guys I just met just because we’re going to die isn’t my idea of romance, it’s actually like depressing? So don’t get any ideas.” She winked and then started laughing. “I’m gonna try to avoid you in the arena as long as I can because well, you’re from home, so killing you would suck and not in the turning tricks for lonely peacekeepers in a back alley kind of way, more in the, oh my god this is soul-crushing because I didn’t have anyone else to talk to for the weeks leading up to the arena and now he’s dead so sad face."
She paused, and gave him a pointed look. "Not that I have any firsthand experience with that first example. Just so you know. I’m a lady. But you’d let me know if you were planning to kill me right?” Without even waiting for him to reply she stuffed the pastry into her face and grabbed another one. “Anyway, I don’t know about you, but I plan on eating chocolate until I make myself sick. Cookie?” she finished with wide eyes, holding one out to him.
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