A Parade for the World to See | Axel, please!
Jan 8, 2013 22:54:02 GMT -5
Post by carnistea on Jan 8, 2013 22:54:02 GMT -5
"Reever!"
I know that yell, the brunette thought with a wrinkled nose as she sat up from her bed - which she had been hiding in for most of the days because her foot had just been a little twisted and she wasn't about to brave even an only slight injury on the sharp, wave-beaten rocks that usually served as her hunting grounds this close to the Reaping. Fourteen years of age. That was all she was. She wasn't ready to die just yet; so there. Right now she was more determined to stay alive than ever, and even though apprehension haunted her mind every passing day...she was not paralyzed by it. That was her strength. Her only strength, one might say.
Hopping out of bed, Reever immediately reached for and pulled out the pair of boots from under said piece of furniture before shoving her feet into them, ignoring the twinge of pain in her left ankle. Her hair was in its usual braid, but it was messy and she could not care less. She'd grabbed a jacket lying on top of her bed and was in the process of pulling it on when the door to her room swung open and there was her wide-set, scowling mother standing in its way.
Mella Song did not look happy. Then again, she never did. "Going somewhere?" she asked triumphantly.
"Out for the markets, Mother." Reever's response was respectful and immediate. She got up from her bed, tested her weight on both legs, before turning to Mella. "Sheld mentioned we didn't have enough spices."
Her mother's frown deepened, but she did not contest her youngest child's words. Good thing I checked the pantries just now, Reever thought to herself. "Fine," Mella said sharply and tossed her daughter a bag of gold, which Reever snatched out of the air with the help of sheer instinct. "Go quick! Be back here as soon as possible; I have dinner to make. Your father and brothers had been working hard today."
There was an emphasis behind her words, as though to remind Reever that she on the other hand did not work at all. Reever bowed her head and murmured a "Yes, Mother" before pushing past the stout woman and heading for the front door of their residence. Sheld and Callen were no longer eligible for the Reaping, the girl thought furiously as she tried not to slam it behind her and hobbled her way to the market. Sheld and Callen were nineteen. She was fourteen. Did that make no difference to her mother?
Apparently not. Reever paused for a moment in the street and closed her eyes. And breathed. Then she smiled just a little before picking up the pace again, the expression a little rueful. It's always been this way, Reever told herself in defeat. It wouldn't change. Not just 'cos she was fourteen now and not five or nine or ten.
Still, the thoughts that shrouded her head as she continued to make her way to the market were dark. And so absorbed was she in it, too, that Reever suddenly found her nose hitting the solidness of something less than a wall and more than air, and with a cry the slim girl stumbled back. She landed on her backside in an ungraceful heap, and fingers worked furiously to pull her skirt back down over her legs - not that it was necessary; they reached past her knees - while at the same time Reever looked up at the...man she had bumped into.
"I'm so sorry!" she blurted out, struggling to her feet. "I'm so sorry. I didn't watch where I was going are you okay did I spill something?"
[Permission to play out bumping into Zhe Panama is obtained from Axel! ]
I know that yell, the brunette thought with a wrinkled nose as she sat up from her bed - which she had been hiding in for most of the days because her foot had just been a little twisted and she wasn't about to brave even an only slight injury on the sharp, wave-beaten rocks that usually served as her hunting grounds this close to the Reaping. Fourteen years of age. That was all she was. She wasn't ready to die just yet; so there. Right now she was more determined to stay alive than ever, and even though apprehension haunted her mind every passing day...she was not paralyzed by it. That was her strength. Her only strength, one might say.
Hopping out of bed, Reever immediately reached for and pulled out the pair of boots from under said piece of furniture before shoving her feet into them, ignoring the twinge of pain in her left ankle. Her hair was in its usual braid, but it was messy and she could not care less. She'd grabbed a jacket lying on top of her bed and was in the process of pulling it on when the door to her room swung open and there was her wide-set, scowling mother standing in its way.
Mella Song did not look happy. Then again, she never did. "Going somewhere?" she asked triumphantly.
"Out for the markets, Mother." Reever's response was respectful and immediate. She got up from her bed, tested her weight on both legs, before turning to Mella. "Sheld mentioned we didn't have enough spices."
Her mother's frown deepened, but she did not contest her youngest child's words. Good thing I checked the pantries just now, Reever thought to herself. "Fine," Mella said sharply and tossed her daughter a bag of gold, which Reever snatched out of the air with the help of sheer instinct. "Go quick! Be back here as soon as possible; I have dinner to make. Your father and brothers had been working hard today."
There was an emphasis behind her words, as though to remind Reever that she on the other hand did not work at all. Reever bowed her head and murmured a "Yes, Mother" before pushing past the stout woman and heading for the front door of their residence. Sheld and Callen were no longer eligible for the Reaping, the girl thought furiously as she tried not to slam it behind her and hobbled her way to the market. Sheld and Callen were nineteen. She was fourteen. Did that make no difference to her mother?
Apparently not. Reever paused for a moment in the street and closed her eyes. And breathed. Then she smiled just a little before picking up the pace again, the expression a little rueful. It's always been this way, Reever told herself in defeat. It wouldn't change. Not just 'cos she was fourteen now and not five or nine or ten.
Still, the thoughts that shrouded her head as she continued to make her way to the market were dark. And so absorbed was she in it, too, that Reever suddenly found her nose hitting the solidness of something less than a wall and more than air, and with a cry the slim girl stumbled back. She landed on her backside in an ungraceful heap, and fingers worked furiously to pull her skirt back down over her legs - not that it was necessary; they reached past her knees - while at the same time Reever looked up at the...man she had bumped into.
"I'm so sorry!" she blurted out, struggling to her feet. "I'm so sorry. I didn't watch where I was going are you okay did I spill something?"
[Permission to play out bumping into Zhe Panama is obtained from Axel! ]