[open] Take A Breath

“Okay, the District Four tribs, did you get a good look at them? They have some Careers down there…”
“The boy volunteered, Toss or Throw or something.”
She made a sort of [color=FF9933hurr[/color] at the back of her throat. “That doesn’t tell me much.” The girl intoned dismissively. “The Twelves were their normal lot, but the Eight boy didn’t look too bad this year. Tall, with some muscles. Dante, though, I bet he’ll make it far…”

Royce gave a noncommittal shrug as he continued to whittle away at the lump of unpolished wood, leaning back in the sagging armchair while Sylis rattled on. It amazed him, really, what details she remembered about the Hunger Games and yet how she could still be oblivious to everything else. The considerably smaller girl was sitting across from him on a stepstool dragged from the kitchen, leaning forward slightly and tapping her carefully-manicured nails against the table.
“Can we at least wait until after Cornucopia?” He said tiredly, carefully carving legs into the lopsided wooden tortoise.
His sister scowled, tugging at a loose strand of gold-brown hair. “ Royce, that’s forever from now.” Sylis complained, turning her attention to a button on the end of her long sleeve. She paushed, voice adopting a wheedling tone that made her brother know she wasn’t going to win this argument. “What about after the training scores are posted? Then we’ll have a good idea of who will and who won’t.”

He was vaguely amazed at how casually she could talk about twenty-three lives. Royce lightly dropped the knife on the table and, in the same quick motion, tossed the turtle at her. Sylis caught it without even looking up, pulling it into her line of vision. She glanced up at him severely. “A tortoise?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you get the wood?”
“Refuse.”
The little figure actually looked more like a fish, but she decided not to bring that up. Just as she began to offer it to him, Royce stood, subconsciously straightening his shirt. “I’m going out.”
Sylis made the hurr at the back of her throat again. Presumably, that meant ‘where?’
“Just out.”
“Fine.”
That was about as close to a ‘bye’ he was going to get.
[/size]


Royce watched the last streaks of sunset retreat behind him, their colors dull and muted from winter’s breath. A chill began settling on the area, but not enough to convince him to hurry. The teenager had signed up for extra, temporary shifts; no one was eager to work during the Hunger Games, and it would give Sylis more money to burn on whatever meager sponsorships she wanted to make.
He tilted his head upward to watch as the pale golds and pinks were replaced by a more complete grey, the dusk before the night; he barely noticed as he passed into the residential streets of District One. Although he had seen only a handful of straggling strangers on his walk, none had attempted to converse with him, and he began settling back into his thoughts. He wouldn’t be able to think over Sylis’ rants, anyway. How many colors would he have to mix to recreate such a complicated thing as a sunset? Royce already knew it had took over twenty for something as simple as a hibiscus…




ooc: Just feeling a little rambly, as this is the first post with these characters. ^-^;; Sorry.