Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking // (Sundrop)

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When the storm comes, it doesn't feel like an accident — it doesn't even feel like weather. Rather, it feels like the manufactured wrath of a Gamemaker's realization as the violent wind transforms into something more akin to the boom of a voice: You have pushed too far, greedy children, we never said you could have so much. Not here. Homes aren't meant to be built in graveyards and honeymoon getaways are only for newlyweds with places to go. The only destination you have is one bleak snowscape after another. The forest fades to white as the incoming blizzard devours the trees and the sky and the ground and all those frail little lines I drew for us that felt fortress-strong until we watched them swept away so easily. This is what we think of your walls. I hold tight to her hand as our house is destroyed by the (un)natural disaster, because I can stand to lose anything else right now, but not her. I won't allow the snow to take her too. And this is what we think of your quaint little rebellion. Here, find warmth in this.

The howling gale sounds like a cackle of sadistic laughter as it shakes the surrounding tree branches until debris rains down like shrapnel, beating wicked rhythms that drown out the sounds of our footsteps as we attempt to flee from a fight that even the sharp edges of our weapons have no hope in winning. It is a long time before the storm calms enough that we can breathe without fear of asphyxiating on snowflakes. By then my limbs ache from trudging against the never ending whiteness, so when she stumbles to the ground, it's no surprise when I go tumbling after. Even though our limbs are tangled so awkwardly as to be not-quite-comfortable, we stay sprawled out the way we fell, because we used up all our movement in getting here and don't have any left. It's not until I see her tears that I realize where we are, that we haven't so much moved on as moved back. I'm still looking for something to say when the anthem ignites the sky, the snow pausing in time with my thoughts as two faces light up the arena.





WIP WIP WIP FOR SHRIMP

OHNOES. OUR HOUSE IS BEING BURIED IN SNOW. RUN AWAY. RUN AWAYYYY. Wait. That's not really what Aesop meant when he asked you to run away with him, Sundra. Gosh. Anywho. It's a frozen river! Deja vu much? Let's sit and cuddle and be happy about teh Azn babiez an— OHNOES. ANTHEM TIME. WUT DID YOU TWO DO WHILE THE OTHER WASN'T LOOKING?! D:< Aesop goes on a silent guilt trip about Denver and mentally begs Sundra not to ask him what happened, promising that he won't ask if the blood on her was from the District 9 boy if she won't ask about the blood on him. So they just sit all quiet and awkward. Meanwhile, in Aesop's mind, one angst leads to another and we go from Denver!angst to this rambling Poe!angst I was supposed to write a long time ago, but now seems like a good time, so:

"I always told myself I'd volunteer if Poe were reaped. I never even thought much about it, because it seemed obvious and Calliope was the one I had to worry about, because for her... I wouldn't be able to —" "But Poe, I could step up for him. A-a-and I always knew he'd volunteer for me too, natch. I wouldn't have let him, I mean, I really wouldn't have? I couldn't, I —" "The Games are different on a television screen, you don't think so much about how they feel when you're watching them that way, even when you see yourself reflected in the glass, but... I'd still take his place now. Even knowing that he wouldn't do the same for me, that I've seen the worst moments of my life here — I'd do it. Maybe I wouldn't have before, but" Bleghhhhh I really don't like how this is sounding, he's said it too many times in my head and now it sounds dumb. Something about how he's alive now and wasn't before and how even though this place is the worst experience of his life, it's also the best one, 'cause he was a different kind of dead before he got here. You know, all the stuff he's been mentally rambling about again and again, but this time he's actually gonna say things out loud, which seems important for him. Gonna rewrite all that nonsense up thurrrr. Hopefully it'll sound better/less cheesy once it's inter-cut with thoughts and actions and actual post stuffffff. I also need to use some fun hoodrat!Aesop words, fttttttt.

At some point here they were gonna stare at the stars and make up lulzy constellations and such, but the Anthem says it's supposed to be snowing heavily which would make it not possible to see stars so BAHHHHH... maybe we can just ignore the Anthem and write it anyway. XD IF WE DO, THAT PART IS PROLLY GONNA GO HURRR.

Otherwise, Aesop wants to braid Sundra's hair. Idk why. He was talking about braiding hair in a previous post so now he wants to do it fo' realz, so I'ma let him. Cause it'll be cute. He's gonna be kinda bad at it, which will make it better. Clumsy hair braiding ftw. XD Maybe he can do this as a fidgeting thing while he's rambling.

Um um ummm, idk how much I should be attempting to fit into this post, that's why I'm having trouble planning it out. I should check with Shrimp. I'll either end here or I'll make him say or think something SO ANGSTY IT HURTS, giving him no option but to stand up and do a silly kpop trot song/dance in Luna's honor can haz sparkle!jacket? 8D and/or he'll start juggling and proceed to teach Sundra and then they'll remember they're standing on ice and will end up accidentally ice skating which sounds really dangerous, since what he's juggling is prolly their weapons lolol. XD

OH YEAH OH YEAH. BEFORE I FORGET. At some point I was gonna mention how this is their "honeymoon period" since Aesop got himself some drugs yesterday, so he's not having withdrawal problems today. It's a quiet, happy, non-combat, non-vomiting, day for everyoneee. Except for that bit of angst there for a while, but shhhhhh.

Gah. What is this. Idek. Gotta go to work. I'll write stuff tonight. :P