renaissance baby { arc & axel jb
Sept 25, 2021 23:06:10 GMT -5
Post by tick 12a / calla on Sept 25, 2021 23:06:10 GMT -5
A X E L
Once the reaping crowd breaks up, I try to slip away. Annisa ignores me. Anton casually asks where I'm going, kinda like he almost cares! Kinda like he isn't gonna report back to Dad the second I'm out of sight.
Not that Dad would even care. I could probably get on a train and go to Seven and he wouldn't even notice until I got back. I remember one year in the summer I spent a whole month sleeping at Annie's and the only time anyone paid attention to it was when Annisa caught me leaving with Anton's tank in my arms.
The goldfish - not my brother.
Much better company.
But it's not like you can keep a secret from Anton, so I let him watch me walk into the Justice Building and I make sure I turn around and stare at him through the crack of the door as it gets smaller and smaller. I wave as the door shuts and his face scrunches and then I can't seen him anymore. I'll get shit for that later, just like I'll get shit for being here, but I've got the spare key to Annie's place waiting in my back pocket.
The wait is short after that, and once a Keeper waves me in I scooch up onto the fancy table against the wall and try to at least kinda look like I belong there. I dunno what you're supposed to tell your cousin that just volunteered to go die. I really just don't want to go home yet.
"Dad's pissed." I tell them, 'cause maybe that'll help, maybe that'll break the ice, and I watch my sneakers swing back and forth over the ground, "There's probably reporters at the house already."
Dad'd been one of the ones swarmed after everything. Once the gossip columns found out that Anarchy was a Mer neé Morrison, that was it. It was like a shark feast. And Dad's always been one of those shadowy type workers. He sits in his study and calls meetings, and I guess sometimes I'll see him at dinner? I mean - he pulled Anton out of training just so he could do the same thing, writing notes, sitting behind a desk, I don't see what's so great about it. Dad shuts himself away and avoids crowds like he's got some kind of phobia, which is weird because he's probably one of the scariest guys I know.
"Annie's a good coach though, you'll be okay."
Twenty-four chances, one out of sixteen tributes, that's a thirteen percent success rate. Four's only had three victors in the past thirty-five years but if anyone can double their mentee victories I bet it'd be her. She's done it once, she can do it again, right?
"What kind of arena d'you think you'll get?" And I guess I know why we don't do family reunions now. The little clock on the wall ticks over, wipe my palms on my pants, "Maybe it'll be a beach."
Not that Dad would even care. I could probably get on a train and go to Seven and he wouldn't even notice until I got back. I remember one year in the summer I spent a whole month sleeping at Annie's and the only time anyone paid attention to it was when Annisa caught me leaving with Anton's tank in my arms.
The goldfish - not my brother.
Much better company.
But it's not like you can keep a secret from Anton, so I let him watch me walk into the Justice Building and I make sure I turn around and stare at him through the crack of the door as it gets smaller and smaller. I wave as the door shuts and his face scrunches and then I can't seen him anymore. I'll get shit for that later, just like I'll get shit for being here, but I've got the spare key to Annie's place waiting in my back pocket.
The wait is short after that, and once a Keeper waves me in I scooch up onto the fancy table against the wall and try to at least kinda look like I belong there. I dunno what you're supposed to tell your cousin that just volunteered to go die. I really just don't want to go home yet.
"Dad's pissed." I tell them, 'cause maybe that'll help, maybe that'll break the ice, and I watch my sneakers swing back and forth over the ground, "There's probably reporters at the house already."
Dad'd been one of the ones swarmed after everything. Once the gossip columns found out that Anarchy was a Mer neé Morrison, that was it. It was like a shark feast. And Dad's always been one of those shadowy type workers. He sits in his study and calls meetings, and I guess sometimes I'll see him at dinner? I mean - he pulled Anton out of training just so he could do the same thing, writing notes, sitting behind a desk, I don't see what's so great about it. Dad shuts himself away and avoids crowds like he's got some kind of phobia, which is weird because he's probably one of the scariest guys I know.
"Annie's a good coach though, you'll be okay."
Twenty-four chances, one out of sixteen tributes, that's a thirteen percent success rate. Four's only had three victors in the past thirty-five years but if anyone can double their mentee victories I bet it'd be her. She's done it once, she can do it again, right?
"What kind of arena d'you think you'll get?" And I guess I know why we don't do family reunions now. The little clock on the wall ticks over, wipe my palms on my pants, "Maybe it'll be a beach."
