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shrimp
Retired Staff

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↑↓ [damen] Jul 4, 2011 18:02:28 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Jul 4, 2011 18:02:28 GMT -5

Forever is a long time
I'm not gonna lie, is that a promise you can make?
Are we at the right place at the wrong time?
Right now I really need some space
"Gage Cooper."

Those two words rang out through her mind endlessly as she stood outside of the waiting room, right foot impatiently tapping on the floor. Clearly, it bothered the Peacekeeper guarding the entrance, for his slate grey eyes narrowed and he almost seemed to snarl at the blond-haired girl, his fingers curling into an annoyed fist, as if each tap sounded like an explosion. It probably was though - Peacekeepers tended to enjoy their alcohol a bit too much; he was probably restraining himself from crying from a headache. But Dashica didn't care at this point. The peacekeeper was not important - nothing was important right now, save for Gage Cooper. For Gage Cooper was about to be whisked away from District 3, from his job, from Pilot, from her.

Those few weeks spent trying to survive in a wasteland had taught Dashica Starr a few things, and one of those things was that Gage Cooper was one of the few people that she actually cared about. When everyone save for the three of them had perished, he was there. And he cared about her, or at least he put on a façade of caring about her, for why else would she be here today if he hadn't done so? She probably would have stayed in District 3 while Gage and Pilot crawled towards the Capitol, would not have known what happened, would not have been here as soon as the Reaping had ended. No, she would have taken her time, felt sympathy towards the strange boy that she had first met in the woods, but that would have been it. She would have gone to see him, but she wouldn't be feeling this way.

Dashica Starr never liked her emotions - they always caused grief and misfortune and confusion whenever they came into play. But emotions were what drove the soul, drove the mind to think in certain ways and the body to commit certain actions. And emotions is what brought Dashica to that hallway, wondering what would happen, how she could help Gage, comfort him, support him - something, for she cared about Gage, maybe even a bit more than what she dared to think. Sure, at times he could be infuriating, difficult to take care of with his condition, overly dramatic - all of that. But everyone had their flaws, and oftentimes, Dash couldn't even see his flaws. All she could see was a kind, caring boy who was her friend. Although at this point, she wasn't quite sure about what they were.

Perhaps if Gage hadn't been reaped, the three of them would have tried to forget about the carnage, the sweltering hot days and the relationships that had been formed due to the accident - after all, sometimes it was better to forget. But there had been no time to do so, and Dash was left knowing that the atmosphere was different, that her relationship with Gage was different, as confusing as it had been due to Katie Morven's life and death. It had caused her to even make things with the leftover ingredients that had been left in the pantry since her job loss - she had made them to celebrate their second-to-last reaping. They had signified happiness, another year at life. She would have even invited Pilot, even though occasionally he infuriated her. It was rather strange, the effects that cookies could have on the morale of others, and that day it would have signified the possibility of life after eighteen, of years ahead full of friendship and a bit of mourning.

But that didn't happen, and now she was here still, the Peacekeeper still wincing at every tap that her foot made against the polished wood. She still panted slightly, a bit out of wind from running home and back again, ignoring cries from her family, shouting "Dash, where are you going?", as well as the tears that had welled up in the corners of her eyelids. Even now, she felt them forming, and wiped her sleeve against her eyes - there was no need to be careful of emotions now, mascara no longer was a part of her life, with money steadily dwindling every since she had lost her previous job. Working in a factory never made a large amount of income, and even with five members of the family working there, income was still low, and the needs of the Starrs was only rising.

"Can I go in now?" she asked the Peacekeeper, her voice echoing through the empty hallway. He winced again, a growl audible as he rubbed his temples. "No. You have to wait." Eyes narrowed as she glared at the man, arms crossed, and she could tell that he was a bit intimidated by her "boldness", which really was desperation. Still though, he would not let her into the room, which she was sure contained Gage and Gage alone. His parents weren't in District 3 - they were in the Capitol, living a life of ease while their son would be sent to their death. How would they react to seeing him fight for his life on the screens? Would they be sad that their flesh and blood was not immune from the carnage? Would they not care?

There was no more time to think about this however, for finally the door opened, and she walked in quickly, not giving another glance to the Peacekeeper. Dash closed the door herself. As she looked at him, her right hand pulled at her scarf, the other hand holding a bag, filled with the small treats that would have been representations of the future. They still were, only now the future was much bleaker and filled with more blood. Dashica could feel her eyes beginning to well up again, and she could barely muster the strength to prevent the tears from spilling. Crying wouldn't help Gage. Crying wouldn't help anybody. The only thing she could do now was be strong, so Gage wouldn't have to. So she softly smiled, and spoke, hoping that her voice wouldn't give away her fear.

"Hey."

Last Edit: Jul 4, 2011 18:05:08 GMT -5 by shrimp

∂αмєη
Capitol Resident

1,550 POSTS
last seen Feb 25, 2016 23:49:47 GMT -5

↑↓ [damen] Jul 4, 2011 21:15:53 GMT -5

Post by ∂αмєη on Jul 4, 2011 21:15:53 GMT -5

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G A G E x D E A N x C O O P E R

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Being reaped was never a possibility that I considered when trying to imagine and create my future in my head. The future seemed to be endless for me, kudos to the mind that I had been given. Whether I became a factory manager, a head inventor or even a District Three dignitary, being reaped was just out of the question. It never fit into the equation I had laid out. No such word existed in my vocabulary because I had completely ruled it out. There were others who weren't as lucky, their lives having been much harder. When the time came around for tesserae, they had no choice but to purchase as much as they could. It was that, or starve. I was blessed enough to have the things I need when I need them, without the added stress of wondering about the next day. That's why my odds in being reaped were always slim. I hadn't purchased tesserae once. Not when I was twelve and not now. Never. There was- what? Maybe twenty-one slips with my name on it. Compared to those who purchased tesserae, my odds were as slim as they could get.

Yet here I was, being pulled away by some bulky Peacekeeper by the name of Travis. At least, that's what his name tag said. I was surprised I could even read. The tears had welled up in my eyes as soon as I was taken out of the public eye. I felt my stomach twist and turn like a rollercoaster. However, this ride wouldn't stop until my cart crashed and burned. And suddenly, I'm remembering what had happened just weeks prior. The scorching sun had beat down upon us, our clothes damp from sweat. It had only been a few weeks ago that we finally set foot in District Three after having a 'trip of a lifetime', or so the mayor of Three had called it. Really, it was more like a trip of death. Then again, nobody would have been able to predict the tragic course of events. The violent train crash, the death of so many people, the treacherous journey back into the safety of a city. The starvation that had gripped me tight, as well as the exhaustion that carried on throughout the night. It was something I wanted to just get out of my head. Forever.

That's when the bile shot out of my mouth, splattering across the rocky ground and filling my nose with a rotten stench. I had had a simple breakfast really. The pile of muck that was now on the ground denied that. I was just glad that I was out of the eye of the crowd and the cameras. Tributes would see this. I couldn't be weak. I'm sure every tribute tells themselves that though. And they probably toughen up for their family while in the room. Their last moments before being sent out would be tough obviously. However, they'd have to accept it and keep a straight face so as to not worry their family. Lucky for me, my family didn't care. I never thought I'd be able to say that's a good thing. It would mean that I could sit in the room and compose myself to the best of my abilities before getting on the train.

The doors swing open, allowing a cool breeze from inside the Justice Building to rid my nose from the stench of vomit. The Peacekeeper, Travis, tightened his grip around my arm as we made our way through the building. I suppose he didn't trust me and believed that I would make a break for it down the slick halls of the main building in District Three. To be completely honest, I probably wouldn't have been able to stand had Travis not been beside me, his arm holding my body upright. They remind me of Jacks and Forrest, the peacekeepers who were on the train ride. They both died of thirst right in front of my eyes. In front of Dashica's eyes. And Pilot too.

I wonder what Pilot and Dashica would think of me being reaped. What about Katie? Had the teenage girl that stole my every thought last year still been alive, what would she have thought about me being reaped. Had she been alive, would Katie Morven have cared? Would she just get over it and accept that the guy she met during one shower project would surely be killed? I guess it was too late now. She was dead. She had killed herself. She was gone. I still had Pilot though. We had met just before the trip. He was an alright guy and he quickly became my best friend. I wasn't usually good with talking to guys and even worse at talking to girls. But I felt comfortable with Pilot. Except when he moved closer on the train ride home, took hold of my shoulders and pressed his mouth to mine before stepping off the train and into the station. I stood there, shocked. Until they ushered me off the train that is.

And Dashica. Well, she'd surely care, right? We had just been friends for the first year we knew each other. Even now, we aren't really anything more. But I could feel the tension throughout the whole train ride and the long walk. Was I starting to feel something for her? Just when my life was put on the line, I began to feel something for another girl. I didn't like it. Well, I did like that I could feel this way but I hated that it happened now. It happened at the worse time. Just before death. As always, I couldn't win in life. Which means I couldn't win these Games. Goodbye Dashica. Goodbye Pilot. Really, this must be the end, right?

The hall seems to go on forever and ever until they finally stop me in front of a door. The officer's grip loosens suddenly, his hands letting go of my arms. The floor rushes towards me as I topple down, landing in a lump. "Get up." Officer Travis said calmly, poking me with his shoe. I let out a quiet moan, not wanting to stand back up on my feet. But the grip around my arms returns and I'm yanked up to a standing position. All the motivation has left me. I feel empty, broken, weak. The door opens and I'm pushed into the room. It's a small white room, maybe large enough to be a regular sized bathroom. There's a soft, white velvet couch against one wall with a smooth table beside. A vase sits on it, two white roses poking out the top of it. My legs start to hurt again, threatening to bring me back down to the ground. However, I let my body fall into the couch.

That's when I notice Travis is still in the room. He clears his throat, nods sternly and mutters quietly. "You have a guest." Those were his only words. He left the room and never came back. I have a guest? Who would come to see me? Is it Pilot? Dash? The thoughts blaze around in my mind as the minutes drag on. We are only allowed an hour, so we have to wait for a certain time to begin. I take the alone time to calm myself, trying to get rid of all the fear I once had. Until I hear a knock at the door. However, it was the one I came in from and the door frame was soon filled by a frail man carrying a tray of glasses. He took one of the plate and handed it to me. The cold water felt good on my hand seeing as they had been so damp from all the perspiration thanks to my fear. I downed the cool liquid quickly, glad to have the taste of vomit out of my mouth.

Then the door opened. This time, it was the other one. The visitor moved in to the room, shutting the door behind her. Her. I thought quietly. If there was anybody that I would want to see, it was her. Dashica Starr was the one person I would want to spend my last moments with. Because no matter what would happen in the next few weeks, I cared about her. I was sure of that much. She held in her hand a brown bag and the smell of cooking filled the air. Her eyes were pointed at me, the surface of them appearing so smooth and shiny. Had she been crying? I asked myself but quickly dismissed the thought. Many people were crying today out of fear. That could've been the a reason why.

Her lips seem to move slowly, the corners moving up to form a soft smile which seems to calm me down immediately. "Hey." She said, her voice seeming to be calm. I could see the pain in her eyes though. Your eyes are the one thing that can never lie. They tell everything you feel whether you like it or not. And hers tell me that she is sad. "Hey." My voice comes out smooth too, surprisingly. I know I don't look the same way though. Surely, I look like a mess. I don't want to move. Just being in the same room is all I could ask for right now, really. But everything inside me is just begging me to move. I push myself off the couch, wrapping my arms around Dash carefully but glad to be close. "I can't. I c-can't do this Dash." My voice quivers and I can feel the tears threatening to come back.

I break out of the hug after a few seconds, looking her right in the eye. "I can't."

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credit to shrimp

Last Edit: Jul 5, 2011 15:53:03 GMT -5 by ∂αмєη

all I need's a whisper in a world that only shouts

shrimp
Retired Staff

1,953 POSTS
Pronouns: he/his
last seen Oct 19, 2020 18:16:41 GMT -5

↑↓ [damen] Jul 16, 2011 15:02:25 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Jul 16, 2011 15:02:25 GMT -5

I just wanna start again
And maybe you could show me how to try
Maybe you could take me in
Somewhere underneath your skin
The two seemed to be in a movie of sorts, their voices smooth and flowing easily, just like one could do in a film that required you to hide your emotions, to hide your feelings and wishes and longings and all of the things that made you you. And perhaps this is the reason that the two spoke like this for this little bit. Maybe both of them had been hurt so badly that they weren't quite sure how to go with it anymore. Life had become confusing, and the best thing to do would possibly to be to pretend to act as if this was a simple meeting, like they'd see each other the next day, face to face, laughing and talking and knowing that the day after that and the day after that would be filled with endless possibilities, rather than a simple goodbye that was limited to a few minutes. To Dashica Starr, this would be easiest. She would never be able to say the same for Gage Cooper, but if she were to play it safe, to try not to get hurt, then this was the way to go.

But she had enough of playing it safe.

And just as she realized this, the façade between them seemed to break. And a simple hug was what it took to break the ever-fragile barrier between stability and what she really wanted. And honestly, she wanted Gage. She first had an inkling of this during their trip through the wasteland towards the Capitol, but she had dismissed it as some symptom of possible death. But ever since she had gotten back it had seemed stronger than ever. And now there was only a few more minutes before Gage Cooper would be dragged away from her forever, and she didn't want that - no. She needed him to be here, not thrown into an arena where he'd be dead in a few days. How many days would he have left to live now? A week? Maybe two? If only they had more time, if only she had been more forward, if only he had been more confident. Maybe something would have blossomed over the little tidbits of a possible relationship. But instead the two were overly-cautious, keeping it within the friend zone. And now, perhaps both of them had realized that it had been the incorrect option - Dashica had, at least.

"I can't. I c-can't do this Dash." The hug broke and he looked at her. And she could sense all of the emotions that were so overwhelming, the tears forming in the corners. Oh, how she wanted to tell him that everything would be fine, that all of this was some practical joke that would soon be over soon, that Gage Cooper couldn't possibly have been reaped after the Katie-fiasco, after his parents left him for the Capitol, after he had been thrown into a wasteland with little hope of ever finding civilization again. It shouldn't have been possible for Gage Cooper to be forced to face even more turmoil and danger than what he had already gone through, yet here he was. Trapped in this all-too-white room with no chance of escape. There was almost no possibility of him coming back - she had already decided on this. District 3 was never known for adept tributes, and even though brave Aénor Kembry had volunteered in Ms. Matheson's place, tributes had to have a strong body or a quick mind - not just a strong conscience.

The destined-to-die boy looked at her once more, hopelessness strewn across his face in an expression that Dashica wouldn't wish upon anybody, not even her enemies. This was the face of a boy who seemed lost, confused, terrified of what was to come. And it wasn't like Dashica could help him much. The only thing she could do would be to give him a smaller sense of comfort than what she would have liked, to give him advice that she wasn't even quite sure that he'd be able to follow. And Dashica wasn't a mentor; District 3 hadn't had a victor in a number of years, so would Gage even have any good advice? Would the mentors know what they would be doing? Would Dashica's little bit of advice be helpful in the least? If only it was. Dashcia didn't have the least bit of knowledge about the Games - such things always made her avert her eyes from the screen, retreating to her bedroom or to the kitchen to make dinner.

"I can't." And she knew that it'd be difficult for him. Gage was never a particularly violent person. In fact, he normally was the person who ended up getting hurt. Fighting to kill never really was a trait that Dashica would be able to pin on Gage Cooper, and now he'd have to do so. So yes, it would be dangerously hard, at the very least. Maybe if he got into a good alliance that had strong people to back him up, he'd be able to come back. But Gage was Gage - Dash didn't know how he acted around others that weren't like her. What if he avoided them like the plague? Then he'd die for sure, and the prospect of a dead Gage was not even remotely close to enjoyable in Dashica's mind. Her hands immediately gripped his, rougher skin grazing delicate ones. His hands were slightly sweaty, and fingernails were rough but she didn't really care. She was going to help Gage, to make sure that he got as far as humanly possible, even if she had to make herself believe that it was possible. And although she couldn't do much, she was going to do all that she could to help him get through this as intact as possible.

"No, you can. You're strong, you're smart, you think quickly. People like you can win the games, Gage." She paused for a moment, sniffing and moving a hair out of her face. Eyes watered, but she made no move to remove them. It was obvious now, she reasoned, that his reaping had affected her in a way that he might not have even realized. But she was tired of hiding her emotions now. It was time to face facts, and the facts were that Gage Cooper meant more to her than she would have thought in the prior months. "Get... Get allies - all of the past few victors had a few allies to help them. Go with Aénor if possible; she seems to be competent enough. If possible, pick a Career, but only if they're trustworthy. You know how desperate they can be to win." She was speaking frantically now, desperate to get across his needs. Maybe she didn't like the bloody parts, but she did watch the alliances, the tributes themselves when there was nothing bloody involved [which was rare, but her observations proved that allies were good and that losing yourself was bad - and that was hopefully obvious]

"You're going to need supplies - whoever your mentor is will probably tell you this, but it's still important. I don't want you do die of starvation or dehydration or any... Any thing like that." A tear rolled down her cheek as she spontaneously removed her scarf, ripping off a piece from the end. The rather fragile fabric tore easily, and soon there was a square piece of white cloth. It was useless enough to get past the Gamemakers [she hoped, at least] as a token, but it would only be significant if Gage were to accept it. And maybe if he did, he wouldn't forget her in the arena. And if he didn't forget her, maybe he'd regain his senses when he needed it. Many tributes went mad, became bloodthirsty - she didn't want Gage to become like that, as selfish as that wish might be. Perhaps forgetting about his morals would be able to help him win, but if he came back and wasn't Gage... If he was some empty shell or raging beast... Then she didn't know what she'd do.

"Please, take this. You don't have to use it as your token, but if you do... Well it's something, at the very least." Unspoken words hung in the air, words that she was sure that she didn't have the guts to say right now, or ever even. But she hoped that he would understand what she didn't say just as much as what she said. Another tear spilled down her face as her voice became even shakier. "Be safe," she whispered, and then something seemed to compel her to inch closer and closer to the boy until their noses touched, and then their lips. Perhaps they kept this position for a long time, or as short as a second, but it was over before she could even fathom what she had done. Cheeks turned slightly pink, and she smiled gently as the tears slowed and ebbed.

"I'll see you soon, kay?"

Just like that, he was gone, with one last hug and one lingering gaze. Then the door shut behind her, and Dashica Starr felt more alone than ever.