Heating Up {Frell//Morgana} District Five
Jul 22, 2011 0:46:42 GMT -5
Post by Tribute!{Meranda<3}Quell Botch on Jul 22, 2011 0:46:42 GMT -5
How fickle my heart and woozy my eyes.
Wyatt Ryan Geiszler[/center][/size]
Heat. It was the only thing prevent Wyatt from thinking clearly. The day wore on, sweltering heat pressing him farther to his limits. Growing up in District Five's oil rig permitted one to be able to withstand heat. If you couldn't take the heat for the day, you wouldn't be paid. Heat stroke was the least of one's worries if a paycheck was in the midst. Being paid, when growing up in a lesser than fortunate area, meant life or death. One missed buck. Equaled one missed payment. That one payment was the water bill. Try lasting an entire month without a shower. Granted the shower itself was shoddy at best, but it was still a shower.
His day started with the heat and ended with it. The minute Wyatt awoke from his creaky ole' bed, his sweat was pouring. Droplets of sweat collected quickly forming an amateur waterfall down his back. Logically one can deduct that this day was very much unlike the other "hot ones" in District Five. A heat wave was on the move. It was only going to get hotter. Once gathering enough courage to face the heat of the day, Wyatt tumbled out of bed replacing his soaked night clothes with a simple cotton t-shirt and jean pants. He shoveled his feet into his deceased brother's weathered leather boots and pushed onward. Dilly dallying wasn't on the agenda.
Easily he aroused his brother awake only to usher the small boy to the table. The best breakfast option Wyatt could throw together was a measly few pieces of bread and a glass of goat's milk. It would have to get the family through the day. Today was payday. Most important day of the week. Which led to the most important hour. Right down to the most important minute.
Curtly he nodded toward his father. The family wasn't very talkative. After the whole "boisterous-fun-loving-older-son-died" ideal, the household was silent. Wyatt fit himself comfortably, perfectly, inside the dynamic. Relatively all his life Wyatt was the quiet reserved child leaving the loud, jokester roll to his older brother. Thoughts of Aziz drifted Wyatt's focus downward at his boot. The very boots Aziz had his accident in. And the same ones Wyatt trekked around his life in, leaving footprints of memories. Both of his own and his brother's.
There was no way to leave his brother's death in the past. But for now Wyatt shoved his feelings aside and nodded towards his father. School was out. Maybe it was due to the game's endless deaths or the heat. Either way production on the rig didn't stop. That'd be precisely why Wyatt's mute father woke his wife and gave Wyatt the same nod back. Code for "let's go to work," he followed his father out the front door giving his little brother a sweet smile. Breaking the cold aura around himself his little brother gave a toothy grin and wave right back. I love that child.
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Both Geiszler men finished their work drenched in sweat with becoming sunburn on their faces. Tomato red, they walked their path home. The route was always the same. Winding around houses until they ended up back home. Today Wyatt felt, different. He wasn't one to step out of the ordinary. In the past few minutes he was quite a few bucks richer and in the need for a tiny bit of adventure in his life. The market. Uniformly he nodded to his father, whom Wyatt believed wouldn't care either way. Mr. Geiszler was in his own world and Wyatt didn't believe he'd return. Not that it'd make much difference.
Breaking off his practiced pattern he felt a rush of excitement. Maybe he'd find a... acquaintance. He hadn't spoken in ages. It'd be nice to know if he could still speak properly.
In these bodies we live.
In these bodies we die.
Song: Awake My Soul ; Mumford and Sons[/center]
