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umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]
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everyone wants to rule | [d1 train] Aug 27, 2023 16:00:09 GMT -5

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Post by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] on Aug 27, 2023 16:00:09 GMT -5

"Are either of 'em sick?"

She'd officially had it with the weak sauce. She wanted to root for the home team, and that was sort of difficult when the people who got reaped kept flitting about, calling themselves musicians, afraid to get their hands dirty. Yawn. She felt so unmarried to the life she once had these days that it was hard to believe she was the same person.

There was a time when Delia Blake had plans. Big plans. She was one of the smartest girls in her class and her grades reflected that, right up until the moment she got involved with Ramsey. Ugh, she thought, standing in the train's bathroom staring at her reflection. She pressed a hand to the space just below her bellybutton, to see if she was far enough along to be showing- she wasn't- and then she yanked her shirt back down Men. Good for nothing.

"Not that I saw or heard," Errol said from further inside, mid-shower. "Only one way for you to know, though!" When she looked over to stick her tongue out at him he was already returning the gesture.

"Whatever. Fine then. But either the train or-" she cleared her throat, "something's making me nauseous, so it'll have to be quick."

His eyes glanced down at her stomach for only a brief moment while he considered.

"Fair enough. You have the interview tomorrow anyway, you'll need your rest."

She closed the door behind her, freshened up in a hallway mirror, and then made her way all the way to the front, where the tributes had access.

"Sup?" she asked, begrudgingly reaching over a bottle of vodka to instead pour herself a cup of water. She kicked her boots off and then climbed onto a chair so that her feet were where her ass should've been, and she was seated at the top of the chair's back, where her shoulders should've been resting.

"Who is wearing all that cologne?" The scent of cologne gave her a headache to accompany the nausea. Not a bad smell at all, just overwhelming. Especially in the state she was already in. Her eyes settled on the boy. Definitely the source.

"You smell like... a unicorn named Chad. So that's what I'll call you!"

She took a sip of water and folded one leg over the other.

"Are ya good at anything murder-related, Chad?"

Not that it mattered. Even if he was the same way she used to be- even if he had plans, they never worked out.

Last Edit: Aug 29, 2023 14:22:21 GMT -5 by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel
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call me jaded

everyone wants to rule | [d1 train] Aug 28, 2023 7:15:37 GMT -5

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Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Aug 28, 2023 7:15:37 GMT -5

Aston Maybach.
To say this was all overwhelming for Aston is an understatement. As if worrying about the race tonight is a priority in his mind but it is. Zak will be so pissed. All that money down the drain and his prized possession is a non-runner. The gamblers will want their refunds and Zak the shark never lets down anyone, he will find a way to recoup, and Aston hopes it doesn’t mean him knocking on his family’s door.

If only he could just get a little message back home or just know, settle his somersaulting brain. Even a goodbye would have been nice, but the train is already rolling along the tracks. District One is behind him. His only instructions of the day are screwed up into a ball.

He is just sat in the carriage hopeless. Waiting. For what? A painful death. A little bit of hope that he has a way out of this. He wasn’t meant to still be wearing these clothes, he should be in a vest top, running shorts and his comfortable sneakers. At least that is what he wants to be wearing when the dirt gets piled on top of him.

There are bottles of alcohol and water around the carriage. The alcohol will dry him right up and the water is probably not loaded with electrolytes. He takes a full jug of water for himself, leaving behind the empty glasses. He can just drink it straight from the jug.

Aston is relieved to see Cordelia Blake show her face as he sits opposite the only person here that could write him up a plan. Though he sinks into the seat in a more proper fashion than the victor. His fragrance is the first thing that is noticed. Perfect, at least that was the whole idea when he shared the bottle with his brother this morning.

”It is err Aston.” He cradles the jug of water, confidence has blown out the carriage. He just wants orders. How to get out of this. How to avoid the other girl in the carriage.

”No. I have never needed to m-.” The closest he has gotten to hurting people is tripping the competitors that clip his heels, the races have no rules other than there is one winner. ”I can run though, for long distances and fast. But is that going to help me in the arena?”

Aston chugs the jug and wipes away the residue from his lips with the back of his hand. ”I only know how to win races and you are the only one here who knows how to win this. Can you tell me how to win the Hunger Games? I will listen and be quiet about it. ”

Last Edit: Aug 28, 2023 7:15:57 GMT -5 by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel

umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]
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everyone wants to rule | [d1 train] Aug 30, 2023 13:15:49 GMT -5

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Post by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] on Aug 30, 2023 13:15:49 GMT -5

"No. I have never needed to m-"

The boy seemed like he couldn't even bring himself to say the word yet. Poor kid, she thought, rough couple of days ahead for him. Really, the only thing that'd gotten her through her own Games was the fervent desire pulsing within her which demanded blood for penance after her shitty highschool boyfriend had died 2nd place the year before. She took her time looking between the boy, who sat in his seat too stiffly- made her feel like she was some bitchy middleschool science teacher who'd swat him with a ruler if she caught him slouching. The girl also sat with annoyingly straight posture, her legs tilted to the side and her ankles crossed.

Delia sighed.

Perhaps sensing how unimpressed she was, Chad the Unicorn spoke up again, more nervously than before: "I can run though, for long distances and fast. But is that going to help me in the arena?"

"Not if they can smell ya comin' first."

She giggled, always one to laugh at her own jokes.

Poor guy looked downright sad, a puppy begging to be let inside from the rain. One that smelled like it'd been skull-dragged across a perfume counter, but with the big pouty eyes and everything.

"I only know how to win races and you are the only one here who knows how to win this. Can you tell me how to win the Hunger Games? I will listen and be quiet about it."

Honestly, no. She couldn't! She had no way of predicting what the plan would be for those in charge, or if the tributes would go in and refuse to fight like that one time. Ramsey's Games had those pirate ships, her own was full of trains, and last year there was an entire hedge maze right there in the middle of the colosseum. "Maybe expect something transportation-centered? Either something to make it easier to go places or make it harder?"

She considered for a moment, her chin tipped up and her gaze fixed on the cabinets across the room.

"I won my Games by holding nothing back, and that meant playin' dirty when necessary. But I had a whole... y'know, situation at the time. Don't suppose either of you are scorned lovers of a dead person? No? Okay, well then you maybe should just try the running thing and see how that works out. As for you, er, Doll Girl, I'd maybe start by... uh, giving us a sign you're in there somewhere?" She held her hand into the air and snapped her fingers near the other tribute's eyes.

Suddenly Delia's stomach lurched and she had to force a swallow of water down to prevent anything from coming up. She'd thought her murdering days were behind her, but if this feeling was going to persist the next few months, she would definitely consider murdering Errol because of it.

"Definitely won't win if you slip into a state of shock before it even starts!"