neon nights [shy/nixie] 90th
Mar 14, 2022 20:03:29 GMT -5
Post by uwu on Mar 14, 2022 20:03:29 GMT -5
S H Y .
Everything was too much. The constantly bright and extravagant colors, the glaring stare of the lights shining on every crack and hole, the people. The people are the worst. They think I'm some sort of miracle, a celebrity. Everyone kept running up to me, asking me questions about how I was doing or what the games were like, or if they could have an autograph. Why? I shouldn't be alive. I'm a walking shell of who I was, a monster even. Do they have no clue of what the games are like? Coming here was a mistake. I don't know why I'm here.
After the first day, I refused to come out of my room. It wasn't worth it. Nobody interested me. The District 2 tributes seemed to know what they were doing. I'm good with not interacting with people. The catering straight to the door was a huge plus as well. People gave me a headache anyway. Or maybe it was the lack of painkillers and/or alcohol. That does it to a dude. Hangovers are as lit as being reaped a third time.
The only bad thing about not leaving my room is the god-awful perception of time. Staying sober was the worst because the seconds inched forward. Given, I didn't NEED to stay sober. I could request whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, but that meant dealing with an avox. Sadly, they're still people, even if they can't speak. Is that a rude thing to say? 'even if they can't speak'? Shit now I feel bad.
"Wait, where am I?"
The bottle of whatever I was holding drops to the ground as I look around. When did I leave my housing? Night took over the city, with a shade of dark laying over everything. If I could see straight, I would have described it as peaceful and beautiful. Is this still the Capitol? Can this place even get this quiet? I have to be dreaming. I stumble forward and my foot goes further down than expected onto the street with the rest of my body following.
I don't need to look down to realize that I fucked up and that I'm gonna have to deal with all this before I hop into clean sheets. That, and I'm gonna need some painkillers before every shower. And in general. I think I'm out again. Do I really need them for a scracth? Yeah, I think it's serious enough. Could get infected. But do they stop infections? Pain is an infection. Yeah, you're right.
The sound of footsteps comes from one side of the street, accompanied by its body. Whoever it is sends me a wave at me and I squint in the darkness. God DAMMINT. Why are people out at this time of night? Why am I out at this time of night? "Hey. I'm Nixie." She extends her hand. That name sounds familiar. I take the hand and shake. "Nice... to meet you... Sixie... I mean... Twixie... Nixie..." Why? I don't know what's going on anymore. Why is she giving me a handshake? Is this a prank?
"Something, in particular, you were hoping to do?" I give her a blank stare. This has to be a dream. When did I talk to her? I rub my temple with my hand. Was I drunk? Did I drink? Shit. I had to have been drunk. Black out drunk probably. Did I leave my room one night? And go to her room? When did I ask for help? Have I met her before? Everything is such a blur.
"Nothing, in particular, I guesh." goddamnit my speech is shit. I squint at her again. "You wouldn't happen to be down to..." I glance around and catch the bottle I had dropped earlier. I drop down to pick it up, which I should know by now that picking up broken glass isn't a good idea. "I do have a queshton." I clear my throat. "A question for you." I stand back up with the remains in my hand. "How're you holding up with... everything?" Did she ask a question? I think she did. Shit. What'd she say? Wait, which games is she from? How do I know she's not a Capitolite in disguise? Shit. I squint at her again. "You said you're Nixie, right? Which games are you from again? Must have missed it."