until your lungs give out. {topaz standalone}
Sept 24, 2011 13:22:37 GMT -5
Post by Lulu on Sept 24, 2011 13:22:37 GMT -5
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i wrote the gospel on giving up
you look pretty sinking
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Waking up that morning had been horrendous. Topaz had been deep within what was probably the most beautiful dream she'd had since leaving the arena, a dream that felt so incredibly real that the victor was sure that it was actually happening, that somehow the beautiful girl in her arms had come back to her just for this blissful moment of peace. She and Nash clung to each other tightly, saying nothing, just enjoying the other's presence as if they'd never been separated by awful, inevitable death. Occasionally they kissed, soft and sweet, a taste sweeter than anything Tope had ever experienced. It just felt so real, so perfect, so Nash...
"Tope! Get up!" What the fuck, Sapphire, I'm sleeping, go away! Topaz groaned inwardly as she was unceremoniously interrupted from dreamland - right when her lips were nearing Nash's once again, mind you - by her little sister, standing over her bed and kicking her mattress. Why was Saph waking her so early in the morning? It couldn't be later than eight, and she rarely got up before ten. Especially not at home, when there was nothing to get up for, anyway. "The Reaping's in an hour. You have to be there in half. So get up." Oh, wonderful. Reaping day again? It seemed like only yesterday she'd been in the Capitol for the 58th Games, and now here they were, ready to start the 59th.
Well, she wasn't going to wake up. They could hold the damn Reaping without her for all she cared. She was done pretending to mentor tributes and sending them to their deaths. Anastasia, York, Soyala, Allen. All her responsibility. All dead. Clearly there was a problem here, and Topaz was more than happy to blame it on her mentoring skill, if it meant that she wouldn't have to do it anymore. But no. Because apparently One's tributes needed a young, fresh victor to guide them to "success", and the only recent champion from the district was Topaz. So therefore, the responsibility fell on her shoulders. But she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't get out of bed this morning. Let them come drag her out. Mumbling "Not going," to her sister, she buried her face father into her pillow and ignored the world. "You have to stop this, Topaz! This wallowing in self-pity, over a girl!"
It had been clear right from their first conversation after Tope had returned home that Sapphire had hated Nash. Or at least disliked her, disliked the fact that her sister had fallen in love with her. That she'd screwed with her chances of winning, maybe - distracted her from the prospect of coming home, even though she ultimately had anyway. That she'd become more important to her than her own sister ever had been. Or maybe - and Saph's latest unforgivable comment seemed to support this theory - the problem she had was with Nash's gender. Well, she could shut her stupid fucking homophobic yap. "Screw you. Screw you!" Topaz pulled the covers over her head and screamed into her pillow, drowning out the sound of her sibling's footsteps as she left the room. It took a good ten minutes of tearless sobbing before Tope decided she was ready to face the world - utterly Nashless - like she knew she had to today. Like she had to every day.
The rest of the morning passed by in a blur. Though she showered, dressed, and freshened up at top speed, she still only arrived at the district square in the nick of time, hurriedly climbing the stairs to the stage in her high-heeled feet behind the district officials as if she'd been there with them all along. Carmel, the generally cheerful escort who seemed to grow more and more irritated with her as time went on, shot her a dirty look. "You're late!" she scolded. "Where were you?" This was accompanied by the accusatory foot-tap that was so characteristic of the woman that Topaz had known for three years now. "Sleeping," the victor answered honestly, before turning away to survey the crowed gathered around the stage, including her sister, standing in the roped-off area designated for her age group. She averted her gaze elsewhere quickly, though; she wouldn't let Saph catch her eye, because no way was she going to forgive her after that last jibe. Three years of her idiotic ignorance was long enough.
There was the usual dull crap about Panem, the rebellion, the Hunger Games, the district. Carmel made her usual repetitive speech. The massive glass balls were, as usual, stuffed with little slips of paper. Topaz took this time to compare perspectives; she'd watched the Reaping five times from down on the ground, roped off with her age group, not thinking much about being Reaped because she trained, anyway, and she could handle it if she went in. And then three times from up here, as a victor, watching names get chosen and people cheering and children she'd never seen before that she would be in charge of mentoring taking their places on the stage. It was always the same, always. This year would be no different - look, Carmel was already reaching into the girl's ball to call out the name of some random girl..."Sapphire Ross!"
What? No. Huh? No, this had happened already. She was imagining this, remembering the year of the 56th Games, in which Saph's name had been pulled out of the ball just like that. She was in, like...a daydream, or something. In a second, she'd find herself getting up and walking onto the stage herself, after shouting, "Oh, screw it. I volunteer!" Yes, that was what would happen. Except...why was she already on the stage? Why was everyone staring at her, waiting for her to react to whatever had just happened? Why was Carmel shouting something about how amazing this was, how the odds were really in favor of the Ross family, sending two daughters off to the Games? What the hell was going on here?
Slowly it dawned on her. Sapphire had been Reaped. Again. And this time, there was no Topaz to volunteer for her. She would be heading into the arena, the place where Topaz belonged, not Saph. The place where Topaz had experienced so many life changing events, the hellhole that Topaz had come to feel a connection to, come to consider as the only place she truly belonged. "Sorry, Saph. Can't follow me everywhere, you know." Yet here she was, following her again. Beside herself with anger, Topaz caught Saph trying to lock eyes with her and turned away immediately. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't.
Topaz hadn't wanted to go with their parents to bid Saph farewell in the justice building. She'd be seeing plenty of her little sister in the week of Capitol prep to come; plenty of opportunities to say goodbye, if she ever found it in her. But they had insisted, so here she was, following a good distance behind them into the room where tributes said their final goodbyes. She hadn't been in here since the tables had been turned, and she was the tribute, the one her parents and her sister were coming to say goodbye to. That goodbye was probably the last time Tope and Saph had ever acted like siblings, close siblings; Sapphire had even given Tope her district token that afternoon, the owl brooch she'd received as a gift from their grandmother. Since then, the two had ignored each other at best, got into shouting matches at worst.
It was different this time, that much was plainly obvious. When Topaz had been Reaped, their parents had been confident in her ability to win; they'd been excited to send their eldest daughter into the Games, thrilled by the notion that she would win and bring the highest honor to their family. They appeared to have no hope whatsoever for Saph, though; their mother alternated between tearfully clutching the seventeen-year-old's hand and scolding her for not listening to them when they told her to train, while their father, who had never really been close to his children, stood silently off to the side. Saph herself didn't look particularly upset; Tope, who was still livid, was prepared to bet that she was loving all the attention, considering their parents had all but ignored their younger child for the past couple of years in favor of Topaz, the champion. Well, good. Let her have it. Tope didn't want it.
"Can I talk to Topaz alone, mom? Dad?" Sapphire's words surprised Topaz, who had been standing by the door with her arms crossed, refusing to acknowledge the exchange. Their mother, who was completely oblivious to the tension between the two siblings, apparently believed they needed an emotional sisterly farewell; she nodded her consent and ushered her husband out of the room, leaving the two alone in the room. Tope waited; Saph looked down at her hands. "I'm gonna miss you, Tope," she mumbled. Topaz said nothing; instead she grunted. Saph seemed to finally decide to quit pretending to disregard her sister's anger - "Why are you mad at me?"
At this, Tope exploded. "Why am I mad at you?" she repeated. "Because you're...you're a little bitch, that's why!" Sapphire's eyes widened and she opened her mouth again, probably to make an angry retort, but Topaz cut her off. "You never even tried to understand why I loved Nash; you judged me from the moment I got home, asking questions that I obviously didn't want to answer and sitting there acting all superior like you always do! You wonder why I'm never home since my Games? Why I always stay in the Capitol? It's because I can't stand to be around you!" That wasn't entirely true; there were a million reasons why Topaz preferred the Capitol to District One, and lack of Sapphire was probably the most insignificant one. But anger had taken over, and she wasn't about to force it to go away now. Part of her knew she was being irrational, that she should be the better person and make amends with her sister before she was sent to her death. But Topaz Ross wasn't the better person.
"I'm going to die, Tope!" Sapphire spat, her voice quivering a bit. "I'm going to die! And you're standing there yelling at me!" She choked on the last couple of words; clearly yelling wasn't something she could do when she was practically in tears. "I'm sorry. About everything. I've been stupid. Jealous." Her voice was a lot softer now, and to anyone else, her apology would've sounded utterly sincere. But Topaz knew her sister, knew her better than anyone else. And though they were completely different in many ways, pride was one very prominent quality that both Ross daughters shared. Sapphire wasn't admitting she was wrong; she still fully believed she had been in the right all along. Her words meant nothing; Topaz was fully prepared to continue punishing her until she decided that she really was sorry. "Do you really want me to die, Tope? Your only sister?" Tears spilled over onto Saph's cheeks. "Please help me. You survived. Maybe with your help, I can too."
"Sapphire, all the help I could possibly give you wouldn't keep you from dying in there," Tope said coldly. "You aren't strong, you're weak. You can't do it. You can't make it in there like I did!" Stop it! Stop saying those things! She's your sister! She doesn't deserve this! "Even mom and dad know it! Couldn't you tell?" Saph was sobbing now, silent tears pouring down her face that she clearly couldn't control. "Maybe this'll teach you to quit following me everywhere. I'm done with you, Saph! Done!" Knowing she'd been ridiculously out of line, but not caring one bit, Topaz stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her and ignoring her parents who were standing just outside. The redhead climbed into the elevator at the back of the building, jammed the button for the roof, and rode it up. From the top of the justice building, you could see the entire district. Downtown One, with its shiny buildings. The factory belt. The suburbs. Victor's village. Tope took one look at it all and screamed at the top of her lungs.
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at night we're painting your trash gold while you sleep
crashing not like hips or cars but more like parties
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[/color]at night we're painting your trash gold while you sleep
crashing not like hips or cars but more like parties
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[/size][/center] [/justify]