stars around our scars ｡°✩ flynn &. andal [95th]

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stars around our scars ｡°✩ flynn &. andal [95th] Oct 7, 2023 21:56:59 GMT -5

Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Oct 7, 2023 21:56:59 GMT -5

They reach the Capitol with a great deal of fanfare, the crowd already flocking to the train like pests to a flowering field at spring.

The suitcases get carried out first, all of them second. From the very beginning, he waves to the wonderfully deranged citizens of the City of Terror, the smile on his face perfectly perfect, and countless others wave back, some with their hands, others with their wolf merchandise.

It was a stupid idea from his “team” - the Searley wolf clothing brand, selling a range of products from wolf ear headbands to shaggy sweaters. If only a wolf could be skinned or tamed with such ease. Still, he sways his gloved hand and wears his rehearsed smile in a show of acknowledge, ten’s darling victor a la the wolf prince. His teeth has begun aching, his teeth close by.

But the smile slips from Andal’s face as his eyes land on someone. The crowd cries out in response - not at him, but at Flynn - and a few are even sobbing, reaching out their hands in a mock display of grief at the other.

His first instinct is to run. Run and take him into his arms, say he is sorry, say he does not know how it happened. The muscles of his left leg spasm and fight against control to move on its own volition. He draws in a quick yet fortifying breath to steady himself.

Don’t be stupid, Searley. Picture the chaos something even close to that would cause. And asking Flynn to deal with that on top of his family’s impending doom? No, he couldn’t. Instead he kept up his pretense, waved his best, but of course their two groups were soon mingling, pleasantries exchanged between the ten and six parties, and of course, Flynn and him were being physically cornered into a friendly greet.

“Er,” he says, mouth suddenly dry, heart picking up pace, “Mr. Garner, I–” I am sorry I could not be there. I am sorry that the world is unfair. “My sincerest sorries,” are the words he settles on.

He extends a gloved hand as a camera turns on them, bracing himself for the shock of recognition. “You and your family have Ten’s full support.” Camera flash. “How are you holding up?” he asks in a low tone, words simple enough to be masked as ordinary if not for the way he cannot seem to pull his eyes off Flynn’s.

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d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel
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stars around our scars ｡°✩ flynn &. andal [95th] Oct 8, 2023 7:32:38 GMT -5

Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Oct 8, 2023 7:32:38 GMT -5

FLYNN GARNER

”You have many appointments scheduled.” District Six’s Capitol entourage secretary tells Flynn, as they flick through the holographic device in their hand. There are flashes of the different appointments, images of Capitolites he has never met before and bolded names, he just catches a Mania Rogue whoever that is.

”Already? I haven’t even stepped off of the train…” Quite literally, the secretary flagged him down just as he was about to depart. ”There were a lot of requests for your company during the journey here. Given the reaping, you’re a popular name this year.” And so his name has been permanently sewn into the hell, there will be no escaping it. No time to breathe. But he will do whatever he must to help Nessa and Jimmy. He can’t be that same boy two years. ”Great, I look forward to it…”

Flynn rubs his eyes before stepping out into the wilds of the Capitol. Dried tears are exactly what they want to see, District Six’s fan club lines the platform and their actions are a dish served with mockery. Women wailing offering out their mournful gifts, cries of we’re so sorry Flynn, and are you feeling the same as you did when Johnny was reaped? are handed to him. They know how to rub dirt into his wounds. Flynn bares his teeth, putting on the rehearsed fake PR smile as he waves his broken bandaged hand. A result of meeting up with a mirror when he boarded the train after hearing about District Ten…

Seeking out Andal Searley in the crowd is not hard, he sees the pack of fake wolf ears first and there he is. He is where Flynn’s eyes remain when he moves down the platform, he is not even sure what he is answering with the yeses and thank yous to those wanting to shake his hand. ”What happened to your hand?” One asks. ”Just an accident.” He answers.

He wants to part the crowd, lay out a free passage for him to reach Andal. But what can he say exactly? In front of all these eyes? He promised the District Six entourage to not make a scene, to not breakdown and cuss out this entire situation out in public.

Flynn also promised Andal to always be there for him, not matter who he joined on the train but the thought of ever having them on it with him, it was just never a thought.

A gloved hand is extended out to Flynn and a mask of words that he is sure Andal truly does not want to say. It will be hard for Flynn to take that hand, not just because it is broken one that must take it but there is just something else, he would rather do. There is a camera slowly zooming its focus onto the pair of them.

He will regret this, but it may well just be another level that will help him in this game. It may help Andal too, but it will be a promise broken.

Please understand why I am about to do this.

It has been a year he will cherish.

“If they find out, they’ll take control of it. They’ll claim it as theirs to own.”

Flynn doesn’t take Andal Searley’s hand, instead he grabs the other victor by his waist and pulls him in for a hug. There is a gasp from the crowd as Flynn carefully wraps his arms around Andal’s back. ”Forgive me please,” Flynn whispers in Andal’s ear ”but this will help us, I promise.” Regret is always a quick symptom to infest Flynn but it is too late now. He has been carrying an overflowing basket of promises for so many people, one was always going to spill. The idea of a romance to add to this drama, there will be plenty of opportunities to fill their sponsorship coffers together now. ”And no, I am not holding up.”

ELEGANT

Last Edit: Oct 8, 2023 7:41:58 GMT -5 by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel

napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.
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stars around our scars ｡°✩ flynn &. andal [95th] Oct 8, 2023 12:21:08 GMT -5

Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Oct 8, 2023 12:21:08 GMT -5

Seeing Flynn up close makes his heart pang with a deeper ache.

The bags under his eyes, the smile wiped clean from those lips, the way his brokenness had faded away his once-vibrant features … It makes a wave of anger blaze so suddenly through Andal’s insides, like a lamp being knocked over and landing on kindling out of all things. It makes his jaw tense and his shoulders stiff, awakening something dark and primal within him. He burns.

It makes him want to seek out every damned soul who has done this to the other and make them pay. It makes him crave violence like a thing to satiate a hunger, to feed a need. He needs Flynn to be fine.

Hand in violent hand, his fingers anchor themselves on the other’s the instant they touch and god, he was stupid to ever fathom that they could hide this. The thrum of desire, the need to comfort, the forever stretch of time they had spent apart, it all comes together to wreck him and he can’t.

He can’t.

But it isn’t him who surrenders first.

No, it’s Flynn’s arms that engulf his larger frame with enough force to break bones, drawing a sound from both him and the onlookers. Camera flash, exclamations, a fire catches through the platform and yet the warmth he craves the most is pressed flush against his own body.

His arms rise on their accords, dragging the other closer so suddenly it almost sweeps Flynn off his feet completely. He buries his nose in that beautiful shoulder.

He inhales deeply.

Something like butterflies and terror churn his stomach, every namable and unnamable form of guilt washing over him. This is nothing but an echo of the first time he looked at a boy in the locker room and the first time he ever touched a boy amongst the pews of a church. This is half-awe and half-fear, a confrontation with the so-called sins his mother warned him about, a reckoning of his outward self and his innermost secrets.

Andal never hid the fact that he liked boys.

He simply never spoke about it.

But here he is, bodies interlocked with Flynn Garner in front of the whole country, and he knows a promise was broken here, a vow shattered, and yet he cannot pull away.

Forgive me please, the other had said and he already had. There is no mask to hide how he wants to be there for Flynn right now. There is no disguise to put over his need for comfort.

And what if this is a trick, suggested to the other by a wizened public relations agent for a spectacle to draw in more sponsorship opportunities? What if this is not actually Flynn reaching out? Andal’s heart would break then, but for now it beats between them, steadfast and true. He presses their foreheads together and nods with his hand on Flynn’s as the other answers his question.

“I am here, baby,” he breathes the words out, both sealing and dooming their fates.

That is when the two entourages of Six and Ten crowd in, shielding them instantly as the onlookers roar and surge forth in a clamor desperately for a closer look. That is when Andal’s fears rise up. They have been found. They have been discovered. It was only a matter of time before they were taken control of, bent to the Capitol's will.

And yet he doesn’t let go of Flynn's hand.

Last Edit: Oct 8, 2023 12:24:40 GMT -5 by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.

堕落天使

d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel
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stars around our scars ｡°✩ flynn &. andal [95th] Oct 8, 2023 14:44:29 GMT -5

Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Oct 8, 2023 14:44:29 GMT -5

FLYNN GARNER

Most of Flynn’s regret is swept away when Andal returns the squeeze. Being held by the other is a remedy to all his ailments, even the pain of the freshly injured knuckles is alleviated. Andal Searley is the only treatment, therapy and surgery that Flynn needs. Just Flynn and Andal. But now the whole world is involved in their little secret.

“I am here, baby,”

Foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. How has he possibly gone so many weeks without that touch that sends every fibre that makes Flynn Garner into a frenzy? Just a gloved and bandaged hand. Just their torsos pressed together. All of this out in the public and he forgets the horror story that derailed this year. They can’t. But he wishes they could both just take each other’s hand and run away from all of this, back to Andal’s candlelit studio.

But he has derailed that too. It is not just Flynn and Andal anymore. It is Flynn, Andal and the Capitol. And he used that little (big) secret they had; it is only himself to blame.

There can’t be any threat of losing this too, even if he is using it to his own advantage. If the unimaginable were to happen in the arena, it is all he will have left. But it is his sister who is involved in the story now and if exposing them can do even a little to help save her, he will take that chance.

Flynn is writing is own story from now on. Before whoever is writing his ends it.

Rapid clicks and seizure inducing flashes from cameras suck Flynn right back into reality. His clambering hands across Andal’s body stop as the pair of them are engulfed by each other’s teams. Both parties have fallen into a complete hysteria, but Flynn doesn’t let go of Andal. ”I know you’ll always be here, you’re my man.” Flynn says to Andal, completely ignoring the heckling from the teams and giving more material to the cameras as they stay standing, holding each other’s hand.

”I am sorry I broke our secret, but I can’t be without you…” Flynn tries hard to stuff more words down Andal’s ear, there is too much to say but not in front of all these other prying ears. A hand grips onto Flynn’s shoulder and it isn’t Andal. The Capitol have had enough of this episode, with its twists and turns, it is their turn to roll out the script. ”We’ll find time together, just you and I.”

The escort’s do their job, pulling interlocked hands apart and fumble to switch the spotlight back to the tributes of 10 and 6 rather than their victors. But Flynn holds out his bandaged hand, wanting so badly to touch even the gloved hand before they’re dragged from the platform. Even a kiss goodbye.