the risk i took was calculated || storm + av, 91st train
Jun 9, 2022 15:29:22 GMT -5
Post by lance on Jun 9, 2022 15:29:22 GMT -5
s t o r m .
There's a disconnect, sorta, in the Justice Building. Ma, Pa, each and every one of his siblings - why were their faces so somber? Why did they not trust him when he said he could do this? That he was doing this for a reason? He supposed that was the drawback of keeping secrets - it was impossible to expect the rest of his family to stay caught up on the same story if he read fifty pages ahead all on his own.
And for a moment there, the seeds of doubt had taken root deep in his psyche, the anxieties and fears that had very nearly led him to avoid volunteering entirely once again sinking their claws into his confidence. Even as he said goodbye to his family, one by one ("Why are you so sad? I'll be back in a few weeks anyway!"), he didn't quite get it. Was it because Fleur had volunteered, and had failed to come back? Was it because Nowles had been thrust into an arena practically made for her, and had died anyway? Storm was more prepared than that. More eager, more willing, and as sad as the loss of his cousins were, they'd shown him what to expect, too.
Besides. Each of his elder siblings had already gone through similar trials. What made him so different? Why couldn't he prove himself too, in his own way?
For a moment there, it seemed that the seeds of doubt would bloom and he'd second-guess and self-sabotage himself all the way to the Capitol.
And then? Well, and then, he found the dessert buffet.
He's not sure how long it takes, really, for Avriel to find him, only that he's on his fourth slice of an absolutely delicious chocolate cake that would have given his mother fits if she saw him so much as look at by the time the Victor makes his presence known. In a different situation, perhaps, Storm would no doubt find himself mollified at being in the mere presence of the boy who had come home in place of his cousin, but at this point, there's already chocolate smearing his lips and the sugar rush has already hit him and well, fears and worries are kind of the last thing on his mind at the moment.
"DUDE!" he all but shouts at Avriel in his excitement, and not even the unexpected volume nor the voice crack can do much more than bring a pink tinge to his cheeks, so heavily has his sheer delight overwhelmed the possibility for other emotions to surface. "Is this seriously what you get to eat every day as a Victor? That's so wicked!" He shoves what remains of slice number four into his mouth without waiting for a response. "No wndrmph-" he attempts, cheeks bulging, before common sense and fourteen years worth of table manners reemerge and force him to chew and swallow before speaking again. "No wonder so many kids volunteer if this is what they get to indulge on!"
Back home, Storm would have waited patiently, albeit reluctantly, for each of his family members to finish their first servings before asking for seconds. But this wasn't home. Storm was days away from his own version of Night and Eve's trial, and, well, he was going to fucking enjoy it.
So, shoving the last gasp of his table manners back down into the void where it belonged, he barely spared a glance in Avriel's direction before moving to cut himself a fifth slice.
