terrifying tranquility ☀ (t/a) 93rd vt
Apr 22, 2023 23:51:58 GMT -5
Post by marcellus rhodes 11b arc on Apr 22, 2023 23:51:58 GMT -5
It is too fuckin’ hot in Four for me to be wearing three layers of Capitol garments. Sure, they want me to look nice. Impress the people. But god - you motherfuckers throw me on a beach and expect me to be layered up like an eskimo. It doesn’t make sense dude. Raul says I look great, and I do. But the pink theme they’ve strung across the districts is getting a bit bland. It’s all about branding me with the arena. The cherry blossoms seem the only thing they can go for anymore. What great stylists, man.
Four was beautiful, which is expected. Their industry has remained with fishing. But what do they receive for their success in the Games? As the industries changed, their Games performance affected the higher-up districts. Unlike 1 and 2, the decade of the 80th, 4 brought home four victors. They have got to have a budget. So I have higher expectations for this. To celebrate the warmth and beauty of the district, they decided to hold it on the beach. Which, once again, why am I wearing three layers of clothes here? For the glamour, and the cameras, sure. But god. I’m not built for warm weather, ever.
In my hand rests a glass of some sort of fancy wine. I guess Four invested in a ton after Annie won. She had won in some vineyard-based games, so it felt natural for some stores to invest in it. We’re on the beach, allowing the soft tides to bring the tones of nature to the world. Something that I haven’t felt since being in that goddamned arena. The way the trees rustled, petals fluttered, and the stream trickled like a faucet is replicated in how the ocean folds onto the sand. The once vanilla-like scent of the blossoms is replaced by sea salt and lemon, which is used as some sort of garnish they put on seafood. It gets my heart to race for a moment, being placed back into such tranquility. I feel myself reach for a spear, or watch for a weapon pointed at my back.
I shouldn’t be on edge. So far, I haven’t been, but beauty is a very misleading face.
Raul told that me he wanted me to try and branch out here - I guess it gives him a reason to hop along with me to Four if I ever want to take a trip. But after meeting his weird ass friends in the Capitol, I don’t really blame him for wanting to. The biggest shock of the request is that he hasn’t fucking bothered to get on his knees for someone yet. He’s definitely not afraid to do it in the Capitol, that’s for sure. Maybe he doesn’t want to get “associated” with the other classes. I don’t know, some weird classist shit like that.
So, for that reason, I’m not doing his work for him. If I talk to someone, it is on my own goddamn terms.
It’s hard to find a detachment from this beach, though. This is the first time I’ve felt like I was in the Arena again, despite the slivers of flashes in my dreams that show a pierced eye. It’s so… peaceful here. And it’s so fucking terrifying after seeing the beauty of an arena get smothered to ashes on that final day. I know I should look away. But I’m entranced. I’m stuck, staring into the void where the parts of my brain fail after trying so hard to keep my fears out of my mind. I’m not there anymore and fuck me if I were ever to go back. They were right, though, when you never leave the arena.
”Mr. Horner?” A voice enters that repressed part of my mind and I immediately whip around. The wine that once filled my glass glides out with my movement. The glass is quickly held like a weapon, as if the softened rim would do much. ”Shit, what-” and my shirt soaks itself with the moscato that was in my glass. Fuck, dude, you can’t just sneak up on me like that. Who the fuck do they think they are? ”God fucking damn it, dude.” My nostrils flare as I accept the wetness on my skin, feeling embarrassed at my movement. It takes a few seconds for my arm to relax too, and damn, they really got my ass. ”What is it?” I raise my eyes to meet one of the Capitol people on my team. Not Raul, he’s off doing god knows what (and I think he’d rather not). Behind them stands Annie, the first to start the 80s party train. I was only four then.
”This is Anatalia Morrisen.” No shit. ”Feel free to acquaintance yourself.” Moments later, the short blue man scurries away, leaving us in a few beats of silence.
”Uh, shit, sorry about-” I wave my hands around, trying to gesture to whatever the fuck posessed my mind in that moment, ”that.” Fuck, dude, you’re really not doing a good job of impressing the people. Why are they having me talk to her anyway? It’s not like Eight can bring home any more victors soon. We don’t have the facilities that these guys have. It takes a moment for me to find my footing, unsure where to take the frazzled state that she just saw me in. Where do I go from there? ”Good to meet you.”
Four was beautiful, which is expected. Their industry has remained with fishing. But what do they receive for their success in the Games? As the industries changed, their Games performance affected the higher-up districts. Unlike 1 and 2, the decade of the 80th, 4 brought home four victors. They have got to have a budget. So I have higher expectations for this. To celebrate the warmth and beauty of the district, they decided to hold it on the beach. Which, once again, why am I wearing three layers of clothes here? For the glamour, and the cameras, sure. But god. I’m not built for warm weather, ever.
In my hand rests a glass of some sort of fancy wine. I guess Four invested in a ton after Annie won. She had won in some vineyard-based games, so it felt natural for some stores to invest in it. We’re on the beach, allowing the soft tides to bring the tones of nature to the world. Something that I haven’t felt since being in that goddamned arena. The way the trees rustled, petals fluttered, and the stream trickled like a faucet is replicated in how the ocean folds onto the sand. The once vanilla-like scent of the blossoms is replaced by sea salt and lemon, which is used as some sort of garnish they put on seafood. It gets my heart to race for a moment, being placed back into such tranquility. I feel myself reach for a spear, or watch for a weapon pointed at my back.
I shouldn’t be on edge. So far, I haven’t been, but beauty is a very misleading face.
Raul told that me he wanted me to try and branch out here - I guess it gives him a reason to hop along with me to Four if I ever want to take a trip. But after meeting his weird ass friends in the Capitol, I don’t really blame him for wanting to. The biggest shock of the request is that he hasn’t fucking bothered to get on his knees for someone yet. He’s definitely not afraid to do it in the Capitol, that’s for sure. Maybe he doesn’t want to get “associated” with the other classes. I don’t know, some weird classist shit like that.
So, for that reason, I’m not doing his work for him. If I talk to someone, it is on my own goddamn terms.
It’s hard to find a detachment from this beach, though. This is the first time I’ve felt like I was in the Arena again, despite the slivers of flashes in my dreams that show a pierced eye. It’s so… peaceful here. And it’s so fucking terrifying after seeing the beauty of an arena get smothered to ashes on that final day. I know I should look away. But I’m entranced. I’m stuck, staring into the void where the parts of my brain fail after trying so hard to keep my fears out of my mind. I’m not there anymore and fuck me if I were ever to go back. They were right, though, when you never leave the arena.
”Mr. Horner?” A voice enters that repressed part of my mind and I immediately whip around. The wine that once filled my glass glides out with my movement. The glass is quickly held like a weapon, as if the softened rim would do much. ”Shit, what-” and my shirt soaks itself with the moscato that was in my glass. Fuck, dude, you can’t just sneak up on me like that. Who the fuck do they think they are? ”God fucking damn it, dude.” My nostrils flare as I accept the wetness on my skin, feeling embarrassed at my movement. It takes a few seconds for my arm to relax too, and damn, they really got my ass. ”What is it?” I raise my eyes to meet one of the Capitol people on my team. Not Raul, he’s off doing god knows what (and I think he’d rather not). Behind them stands Annie, the first to start the 80s party train. I was only four then.
”This is Anatalia Morrisen.” No shit. ”Feel free to acquaintance yourself.” Moments later, the short blue man scurries away, leaving us in a few beats of silence.
”Uh, shit, sorry about-” I wave my hands around, trying to gesture to whatever the fuck posessed my mind in that moment, ”that.” Fuck, dude, you’re really not doing a good job of impressing the people. Why are they having me talk to her anyway? It’s not like Eight can bring home any more victors soon. We don’t have the facilities that these guys have. It takes a moment for me to find my footing, unsure where to take the frazzled state that she just saw me in. Where do I go from there? ”Good to meet you.”
