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thompson harvard - d2b - arc
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0 for 3 - district 8 train Jan 29, 2024 17:55:39 GMT -5

Post by thompson harvard - d2b - arc on Jan 29, 2024 17:55:39 GMT -5

I guess my house is just a fuckin' hostel now, huh? Ma' pulls me by my ear every fuckin' look I give the kid, saying that "he's family and you better fuck'n watch it you son of a bitch." You know what? "Son of a bitch" was correct. Spoken from that goddamn bitch herself. Who does she think she is, trying to tell me who's allowed in my home? Maybe if she weren't such a terrible mother, her son wouldn't have volunteered for the trauma that somehow feels more distant than her own.

So, last week, right. Here's some context. The Eyma side is always on the bad sides of a lot of people's radars. They just are - constantly getting in fights, bruised knuckles, wounds. It was never a shock growing up to hear that one of the Eyma's died. Mostly because there was a lot of them, too, it was like the rate of tributes dyin in a way. Anyway. Carter - some kid to one of Ma's closer cousins showed up at the victors village. His parents were killed and I guess they always told him Morriah was the best place to go to. We don't live at home anymore, so I guess the kid decided to show up.

Ma didn't give me a choice, so he's been staying in one of the many empty guest rooms. It's been nicer to have a third body, but I am in no spot to raise a child. I can't even keep one alive, based on my past four years. Speaking of which, it's time to fail again.

The Reapign wasn't exactly... exciting, but there were a few pushes and shoves which made it interesting to see. Neither of them keep a strong impression, but the name Garnet rang a bell. He must have been the boy that sent me a letter a few weeks ago - somethin' about how me winning helped him. It was cute, but I never thought much about it. But now he's here, in my very fate four years ago.

Something tells me he doesn't have it in him, though.

I exit my personal carriage to enter the central cart, which neither have entered. Being able to get to the Capitol is a nice excuse to avoid what is my own damn mothers' mansion. The door opens as a small splash of alcohol enters my glass, which permits me to turn around and raise it toward the tribute. "Theo." Making the purple hued leather seat my spot, I took a sat. "How are you feeling?"

Last Edit: Jan 29, 2024 17:56:19 GMT -5 by thompson harvard - d2b - arc

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
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cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

0 for 3 - district 8 train Jan 31, 2024 0:00:09 GMT -5

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Jan 31, 2024 0:00:09 GMT -5

GARNET BEAUFORD

There's something disarming about being debuted in front of all of Panem, told sternly to say your goodbyes, and then ushered into the most opulent space he's ever occupied. For a time Garnet is completely overcome by the train - an actual locomotive - that huffs and puffs and threatens to roar all while rumbling beneath his worn shoes.

Garnet follows every instructions leveraged at him, whether its given by a uniformed Peacekeeper or a flamboyant Capitol escort. He sits as primly as he can manage; in his mind's eyes he echoes those who have come before him, the more civilized tributes. Knee together, hands clasped loosely in his lap. What he does not account for is roving gaze which cannot settle on any one object. Truly the whole vehicle should be in a museum.

Admiring the wallpaper and sconces keeps Garnet from making eye contact with Victor Horner as he's yet again led onward. This time he's compelled into the caboose with Theo and Marceline.

Oh, if only he had lsot his courage on the way to the post. The stamp alone had cost him a day's wages.

Garnet is flushed even before Theo kindly introduces himself (as though they could possibly not know who he is). "Fine," he says, his voice strangled. Garnet clears his throat and tries again, "it's... just us then? We aren't expecting Victor Leviane?"

credit umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

credit ✨ zozo.

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andromache s. ⚔️ [d1b] sucy
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am i not the loving kind?

0 for 3 - district 8 train Jan 31, 2024 18:00:31 GMT -5

Post by andromache s. ⚔️ [d1b] sucy on Jan 31, 2024 18:00:31 GMT -5

marceline jeon .

"thought i was the only one,
turned out i was everyone"

My mind is beyond clouded; as they shuffle me to the train, big gloved hands clasping my arms, I take my last looks at District Eight. Even on a day off like the Reaping, smog crowds the skyline overhead and makes it near impossible to see anything real. The roofs and chimneys of factories cut through the grey, allowing me to situate myself. Home still, just for a few seconds more. My filthy, ugly home, responsible for so much beauty. Its products, its people: beautiful, even if they grate on me. Seeing the factory silhouettes is as close as I'll ever get to seeing my family again, I wager.

Thinking of them, of their faces and of all the half finished gifts I'll never finish, is too difficult, and I want to stop crying by the time I reach the train. Although my eyes are red, and my makeup has seen better days, I'm mostly presentable looking, judging by my reflection in passing surfaces. Just some mascara smudges around my eyes, something I'm sure nobody would begrudge me on a day like today, something I won't allow anyone to begrudge me.

The Peacekeepers loosen their grip on me, and pass me off to the Capitol escort. I wonder what makes me seem like such a flight risk. Maybe I look unsteady on my feet. That wouldn't be completely untrue. I follow along obediently, as I've always done. The boy is here now too. Or has he been here the whole time? I've been so lost in my own head. He's not unfamiliar, but that's about as much as he registers with me.

The door opens, and there sits Theo Horner. Physically, he's young, because of course he's young, but there's an aura about him I'm not used to reading off someone his age; off someone so close to my age. Him being a victor feels nearly irrelevant. How is this man supposed to lead either of us to so-called victory? Still, I nod in response to his introduction to be polite.

"Marceline," I supply, though I know he knows already. "I've had better mornings."

I delicately lower myself into a seat, suddenly aware of the fact that I'm on a train, a proper, Capitol-bound, moving train. That realization shakes me more than anything. For the time being, I'm happy to let Garnet take the lead on questions.

ELEGANT

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thompson harvard - d2b - arc
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0 for 3 - district 8 train Feb 1, 2024 9:14:33 GMT -5

Post by thompson harvard - d2b - arc on Feb 1, 2024 9:14:33 GMT -5

"It's... just us then? We aren't expecting Victor Leviane?" Unfortunately, I laughed at the concept of Shelby. I haven’t really forged a relationship with her, when I was her tribute, when I was her fellow. It’s really unfortunate. But what the fuck can I do? She’s a whole ass eighteen years more experienced than me. She also won with the most tributes in an arena ever.

Sometimes I wish she would help. It’s hard to feel useful. But this is probably how she felt by the time I won. Guess it’s my turn to watch the world burn. ”Yeah, she’s not coming.” Sip. It burns like it first did when I lost one of them. But like most alcohol, it goes away, soon enough. As more children die under my watch, more kids I could’ve had classes with, the less it hurts.

So much for being born to do this. For being a natural. The door opens again, offering the next tribute with little energy to be attributed to the room. She introduced herself, which wasn’t needed, and stated "I've had better mornings."

Great thanks for sharing, Mar. Because I was excited to volunteer as much as she is excited to be reaped. Nobody sane wants to fucking do this shit. ”Right, most have.” My morning is going just fine. Better now that I don’t have to live with the fact my house has turned into a fucking hostel for distant relatives. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to Carter. He wasn’t at an age that I’d ever talk with the guy - not many are. The only cousin I’ve ever been close with is Kaya or Court, and even then, I don’t talk to them.

”What can y’all do?” Looking between the two, clearly nothing of muscle was available. ”Run?” That would get them out of the bloodbath quickly, which would be good. My speed saved my ass back in the 93rd. I was dead fuckin’ meat if I wasn’t. ”Ever touched a knife?” They’re probably the easiest weapon to grasp, so that’d be a nice start. There’s no way they have - in a capacity that’s useful.