Above the lights (Deja/Bolts)
Oct 4, 2016 19:28:10 GMT -5
Post by Chevi on Oct 4, 2016 19:28:10 GMT -5
BOLTS SPARK
DISTRICT THREE
Deja did not come down for dinner.
It had been a long ride from District Three to the Capitol - made even longer by the company. The three of them, Atticus, Bolts, and Deja, were three very different people, three very different lives. Add that to the shock of the Reaping and the looming Games, and it was more explosive than anything Bolts had ever worked with. It was debatable how much mentoring their mentor had actually done, even though he'd tried his best - and Bolts already knew that Deja would not need him, his advice, or his alliance, going into the arena.
But they were not in the arena yet.
Nobody really seemed to care in the Training Center what the tributes did with their time. They couldn't leave, and couldn't fight, but other than that, they were left to their own devices - once they managed to frustrate the escorts to the point when they were allowed some quiet time. Bolts piled food onto the largest tray he could find in the dining hall, and carried it up to the floor designated to him and Deja.
He was too tired to socialize anyway. That would happen tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. In fact, it dawned on him that unless he survived the Games, he would never be truly alone again for the rest of his life.
Deja was sitting by the window when he entered. That was where he had left her; she seemed drawn to the scenery, the illuminated landscape beyond the unbreakable glass. The Capitol was a breathtaking sight from above, especially at night.
"Brought you some food" he said a little awkwardly, setting the tray on a coffee table and pulling it up to the window. Deja had the right idea; one felt less trapped there. "The food here is ridiculous. I can't tell if they want us to be strong, or fat..."
It had been a long ride from District Three to the Capitol - made even longer by the company. The three of them, Atticus, Bolts, and Deja, were three very different people, three very different lives. Add that to the shock of the Reaping and the looming Games, and it was more explosive than anything Bolts had ever worked with. It was debatable how much mentoring their mentor had actually done, even though he'd tried his best - and Bolts already knew that Deja would not need him, his advice, or his alliance, going into the arena.
But they were not in the arena yet.
Nobody really seemed to care in the Training Center what the tributes did with their time. They couldn't leave, and couldn't fight, but other than that, they were left to their own devices - once they managed to frustrate the escorts to the point when they were allowed some quiet time. Bolts piled food onto the largest tray he could find in the dining hall, and carried it up to the floor designated to him and Deja.
He was too tired to socialize anyway. That would happen tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. In fact, it dawned on him that unless he survived the Games, he would never be truly alone again for the rest of his life.
Deja was sitting by the window when he entered. That was where he had left her; she seemed drawn to the scenery, the illuminated landscape beyond the unbreakable glass. The Capitol was a breathtaking sight from above, especially at night.
"Brought you some food" he said a little awkwardly, setting the tray on a coffee table and pulling it up to the window. Deja had the right idea; one felt less trapped there. "The food here is ridiculous. I can't tell if they want us to be strong, or fat..."
