.:Hope:. {is just a distraction} //Cass
May 23, 2012 20:51:36 GMT -5
Post by Rosetta on May 23, 2012 20:51:36 GMT -5
[/center]Lethe Turner
Training was the worst part. For her at least. The fire was still there, a spark, really. A slowly dying one. The one that they'd all watched diminish on the train as they raced farther and farther away from their home. But, it was still there, warming their hands to shake those of another and pick up some vile weapon. That spark formed friendly words in their mouth. It generated adrenaline and soothed sore limbs, reassuring them that meant they were doing well. Lethe knew. She'd had had the same spark herself.
Hope.
It was hope. All twenty four of them still had it even if they didn't know it. In the Training Center, with the possibility of making alliances and learning presumably life-saving skills, there was also the possibility of survival. And it was pitiable. Hadn't they all grasped the fact that there was a twenty three in twenty four chances that they'd soon be bled-white, cold and in some dank wooden box?
As she rode the elevator down, crowded amongst the jittering tributes, Lethe felt it, buzzing all around them. Their faces, some with eyebrows knit, others with seemingly confident chins, raised high, all had it brewing in their eyes. The way they stared at one place rather than flicker along. It radiated from their skin, attempting to sink into her's, but Lethe wouldn't allow it.
You couldn't say that Lethe Turner rejected hope. She'd felt its spark once too.
She was lying under the stars, listening to the hum of bugs, and stroking Camalia's head. The ground was hard against her bruised back, but her aching head was elevated on her backpack. The river gurgled near her, water rushing over slippery rocks, washing away today's blood. Bloodshot eyes wide up, staring at the endless white, glowing pinpricks in the sky, Lethe Turner felt it stirring deep within her.[/i]
She'd always been a late bloomer and even here she was. Unlike the others, she hadn't felt it in that suffocating gymnasium, the thuds of falling dummies and clang of clashing swords mimicking that of what they'd soon hear keeping her from hoping anything more than that her death would be swift and painless.
She might've had a sliver of it with Anya after making it out of the Bloodbath mostly unscathed. But, any inkling she might've possessed shattered the next morning when she saw that same, beautiful blond girl perish in one blow.
It hadn't come until that last night.
Despite the prickling on her skin, the tension in her back and the horrible churning in her stomach, Lethe felt it. A warm spark, spreading over her shivery flesh. Camalia skittered up her arm to rest in the crook of her elbow, perhaps sensing the warmth. It soothed her tired limbs, it relaxed her racing heart and wetted her dry tongue. She could feel it. There was that chance. That tiny one, a sliver of it, that she might go home. That she might make it. She might be able to win this.[/i]
It was with that spark, sputtering, but surviving inside of her that she was able to drift off, her breath even and her eyes gently closed shut...that was her hope.
It was a foolish thing to possess though. She might've won, but she didn't feel it. She felt the burden of twenty three dead bodies on her back. She didn't feel sweet glory. Her head had been numb when the crown had been placed there. Still, she felt the blood, dripping over hands, and could sense their lifeless eyes boring into her back. Hope did nothing for her. Like smoke and mirrors, it was some sort of sick illusion.
The elevator came smoothly to a stop and for the first time since entering the elevator, Lethe noticed him. It was a shock even into her. She hadn't noticed her own tribute to mentor. They stayed on the same floor. Hadn't she seen him get on with her? Was she so absorbed in herself that she hadn't noticed the boy she was supposed to be keeping alive?
The morning had been hectic. The escort that accompanied District Five had informed Lethe that if need be, Eden would be watched over by the Avoxes.
"You have certain duties to perform as mentor," they reminded her, a reprimanding tone in their voice. "It's been felt that Eden, until she is old enough to remain home," the way he said it suggested that he felt Eden should've stayed home this time around, "shouldn't be getting in the way of those duties." And without further ado, Eden was whisked away from her by a pale-faced Avox. There was no time for objection. Seeming pleased by this, the escort had smiled. "Now, Mel would like you to look at some designs she has and I've some information for sponsoring that I'd like to go through with you..."
And so on it went, Lethe doing her best to keep silent and listen as they went on and on about this and that. Finally, she was able to tear herself away to head downstairs, saying she needed some fresh air. It was only partly true. She needed some air, but not fresh air. Thick, humid air mingled in with the smell of hay, droppings and a wet hide. The stables.
Staring at Haff, Lethe felt his sister's words strike her.
"All he knows is the horses."
And suddenly, Lethe didn't want him to go into the big, stuffy gymnasium with the judging eyes, the tryings of potential murderers and most of all, that foolish inkling of hope. She didn't want to see it stirring in him, him of all people.
And she hardly knew him. All she knew were those words, the words that jolted her heart into understand.
"All he knows is the horses."
Lethe felt herself lurching forward, separating the murmuring crowd of tributes, who quickly fell silent at the sight of her. She was a Victor, she was to be treated with respect, so her nudging elbows were soon forgotten as she reached- “Haff!"
Her hand reached out to touch his arm, but just inches away from it, she pulled back, sensing the electricity bounding off of his skin. He wasn't "right." She had to remember that. And he might not appreciate her touching him. She might get shocked. And so, she put herself directly in front of him, mind filled with the images of galloping horses, bent low backs and flying hair.
"Haff," she said again anxiously just to make sure he was entirely with her. Sweat was making her hands sticky as they reached for each other to fidget with. She didn't want to upset him or make him nervous or anything, but she was being just as bad. But, didn't she know what it was like?
The mornings were always the worst. The same blank face peering down at her. "Sweetheart, it's me." The same racing heart, gasping mouth, widening eyes, hands clutching at her sheets. Who are you? Tell me![/i]
"Your sister," Lethe began, swallowing hard, "she told me to look..." she trailed off, chewing on her lower lip. Perhaps she shouldn't share. Did his sister want him to know what she'd said? Lethe knew from experience that people often spoke and acted differently around other people regarding one person than with that one person.
"All he knows is the horses."
She was soaring along on the back of a beautiful mare. The methodic clip-clop of her hooves lulled and exhilarated Lethe all at once. Her hair, frayed ends and all, flew alongside behind her and her eyes were watering. But, she was smiling, scarred cheeks full with joy. Underneath her, the pure white mare whinnied, muscles standing out tensely on her back and the sun beat down on them, extending its golden rays across the baby blue sky powdered with a few clouds. She never felt more alive. This was what she loved. This is what she knew best.[/i]
"Haff," Lethe took a deep breath to steady herself on level ground, ""I have something to show you. I think you might like it. Come with me." Cautiously, she reached out and took his hand. When he didn't pull away, Lethe let out her breath, smiled at him, and began to walk away from that hope she despised so much.
Soft whinnies and nickering emitted from behind the unguarded, closed doors and Lethe could already feel the pinpricks of excitement needling her skin, sending chills down her spine. "You'll really like it, Haff," she promised, the jittery air in her voice genuine. And without further ado, she pushed open the door.[/color]
{OOC: Basically, I’ll let you decide what the stables look like! I’d suggest spacious with a lot of horses though! Also, with an area for them to ride around.}[/size][/blockquote]