Crowned Blood [Iden/Liza D2 Train Blitz]
Oct 8, 2021 0:48:08 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Oct 8, 2021 0:48:08 GMT -5
A bruise grins along his eye, spreading like a fire across the ashes of a promise.
Step after step echoing along the floor of his own movements, a smile on his lips from the moment when his father had stepped in the room with surprise, but a smirk of his own. The devil laughing at the sight where his blood burns. The legacy of the Averill's no longer being at jeopardy due to his sacrifice. The taste of iron on his lips as they talked about everything; the impurity of his blood meant to perish in a field of blood and steel. Except, Iden's got better ideas than to just die without a crown to stand above the man who put a knife through his mother. The man who smiled during his pain for years, only to see failure in his own blood. Iden Averill would ruin the entirety of his own father's life. A crown, a betrayal so deep, and the fall of a rich man.
Eat the rich as his mother would say.
Stepping forward with peacekeepers flanking him, their words whispers in his ears. Trouble. He's always been trouble for someone. An annoyance in the eyes of many, but he could only smile with blood dripping down from a cut along his cheek. The swelling of his eye throbbing in a righteous pain of tearing down what he can. Pascal would be fine from here on out. Iden didn't need to worry about his brother. His own life was next on his list of worries. Stepping on the train with a heavy shove from a Keeper who's most likely getting fired for letting him get injured before the games. A smile on his lips as he tastes the iron and speaking out to them.
"Not my fault none of you can do your jobs."
Heading up into the train, he doesn't shy away from displaying his wounds. A calmness to him as he takes in the room. A carpeted floor, running worn from years of use, softer than he expected, but not as soft as the Averill's manor. The windows streaked with sunlight as he stares out for a moment until a lurching of the car begins. The room is stacked with gourmet dishes he's seen many times before. Avoxes line the room waiting to help, but he doesn't care about the help. Not anymore. He's spent years surrounded by avoxes as if he were one himself, but now he's no longer a servant. Iden's broken free from his metaphorical shackles. A crown is all that he needed.
Reaching forward, he grabs a fancy panini filled with assortments of meats and cheeses and greens. A small bite of it before he looks up to try and see anyone else in the room. For a second, he feels caught red handed, the memories of wanting to eat the best food in the manor. His father screaming at him that bastards deserve no kindness. Iden wasn't meant to be born, but all he does now is mentally tell his father to fuck off for good. His words slip out after he swallows the bite, taking in his district partner.
"Don't mind the shiner, had some unfinished business, y'know how it is."
Waving his hand with a lack of care as he puts down the fancy panini and reaches for a glass of champagne, smelling the alcohol coming off it. A smirk on his lips as he brings it to his lips, letting the cool and floaty feeling wash over him. His words continue as he looks to Elizabeth Manford. "What's your plan, Ms. Manford?" A smirk on his lips as he can feel himself wanting to figure his partner out. Find out if she's useful to him or not. "I plan on winning as I'm sure you are too." For a moment, he swirls the champagne in the glass he carries, relaxing against a seat, letting his eyes read the room around him until he continues.
"I'm just curious. What are you willing to do to get the crown, Ms. Manford?"
Step after step echoing along the floor of his own movements, a smile on his lips from the moment when his father had stepped in the room with surprise, but a smirk of his own. The devil laughing at the sight where his blood burns. The legacy of the Averill's no longer being at jeopardy due to his sacrifice. The taste of iron on his lips as they talked about everything; the impurity of his blood meant to perish in a field of blood and steel. Except, Iden's got better ideas than to just die without a crown to stand above the man who put a knife through his mother. The man who smiled during his pain for years, only to see failure in his own blood. Iden Averill would ruin the entirety of his own father's life. A crown, a betrayal so deep, and the fall of a rich man.
Eat the rich as his mother would say.
Stepping forward with peacekeepers flanking him, their words whispers in his ears. Trouble. He's always been trouble for someone. An annoyance in the eyes of many, but he could only smile with blood dripping down from a cut along his cheek. The swelling of his eye throbbing in a righteous pain of tearing down what he can. Pascal would be fine from here on out. Iden didn't need to worry about his brother. His own life was next on his list of worries. Stepping on the train with a heavy shove from a Keeper who's most likely getting fired for letting him get injured before the games. A smile on his lips as he tastes the iron and speaking out to them.
"Not my fault none of you can do your jobs."
Heading up into the train, he doesn't shy away from displaying his wounds. A calmness to him as he takes in the room. A carpeted floor, running worn from years of use, softer than he expected, but not as soft as the Averill's manor. The windows streaked with sunlight as he stares out for a moment until a lurching of the car begins. The room is stacked with gourmet dishes he's seen many times before. Avoxes line the room waiting to help, but he doesn't care about the help. Not anymore. He's spent years surrounded by avoxes as if he were one himself, but now he's no longer a servant. Iden's broken free from his metaphorical shackles. A crown is all that he needed.
Reaching forward, he grabs a fancy panini filled with assortments of meats and cheeses and greens. A small bite of it before he looks up to try and see anyone else in the room. For a second, he feels caught red handed, the memories of wanting to eat the best food in the manor. His father screaming at him that bastards deserve no kindness. Iden wasn't meant to be born, but all he does now is mentally tell his father to fuck off for good. His words slip out after he swallows the bite, taking in his district partner.
"Don't mind the shiner, had some unfinished business, y'know how it is."
Waving his hand with a lack of care as he puts down the fancy panini and reaches for a glass of champagne, smelling the alcohol coming off it. A smirk on his lips as he brings it to his lips, letting the cool and floaty feeling wash over him. His words continue as he looks to Elizabeth Manford. "What's your plan, Ms. Manford?" A smirk on his lips as he can feel himself wanting to figure his partner out. Find out if she's useful to him or not. "I plan on winning as I'm sure you are too." For a moment, he swirls the champagne in the glass he carries, relaxing against a seat, letting his eyes read the room around him until he continues.
"I'm just curious. What are you willing to do to get the crown, Ms. Manford?"
