bare minimum || panda / ulysses

U L Y S S E S.

Everything on my body, save the black undergarments I'd demanded as a comforting consolation, has begun tearing off. By the clever design of our stylists, of course. Fast fashion tearing apart at the seams in some sort of Capitol commentary on capitalistic productions– I don't know, I stopped listening halfway through the whole spiel.

We're all born naked. That's how I'd like to think about this "commentary." Nothing but skin, blood, and bones. It's up to us to make who we want to be a reality, and it's on us to fulfill our desires. I wear what was a formerly well-put-together suit like a cape, sleeves latched together by the cufflinks. I step off the chariots, fluttering the array of colors to avoid cracking my head open with a trip.

"You two looked gorgeous! What a wonderful smile you have!"

I wave to the Capitol citizen shouting our way. Thanks, I guess. This sugar-free gum must be doing wonders for my teeth… or they were talking to Elise. Either way, I'll take it as a point for myself. I bunch the circles of my clothes up around my waist. Perfect amount of cushion to just drop onto the floor without breaking a bone. Arms stretched behind me, I lean up against the cold colosseum walls. "Damn, you guys… all that fashion really takes the life out of ya! Go ahead, I'll catch up."

I'm not sure how long it'll take to get my "breath" back, but the stars look nice up there with the flashing Capitol skylights. I don't know, I could stay here for a while!