Illumination {Open}

Edward "The Grin" Terrill

Coniferous. Conference. Continuous. Isn't word association bland?

Edward mused silently to himself at great lengths about this particular subject while he rolled about his bed in pure, unadulterated boredom. He didn't have many associates among these his fellow peacekeepers and therefore, didn't really know what to do with himself. He wouldn't even have bothered to come to the conference if not for the chance to submit another transfer request in person and a couple of days respite from district seven. Thankfully, at this time of year, the foliage was not in the business of irritating his allergies and so his nose had started to heal from the abuse of constantly blowing it; Although it was still red and cracked around the sides, it had stopped dripping, and that was counted as a win in his book. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he groaned. Middle of the night and he still hadn't managed to fall asleep.

Grumbling quietly, he rolled over again and thought about the events of the past two days. The train ride had been uneventful enough. It had been years since he had watched the scenery roll by; or done anything other than sleep for that matter. Some time had been spent polishing the inside of his helmet as well; his allergies had painted it with an abstract grossness that he knew was considered quite sloppy. But who was going to look at it in his assigned district? The answer was less people than would in the Capitol, which is why he had neglected it until he couldn't put it off any longer. The first day of the conference had been similar to the way it had started off the previous year. Tack was a fairly predictable head when it came to business, and the order of the agenda rarely differed. As always, the first discussion concerned the latest hunger games victor, this year, a boy from one.

Ed did not have a strong opinion on Peridot Myler one way or the other; A week's pay had been lost betting on the career from two, and he had kicked himself when the girl from nine had landed a lucky shot and taken Atlas out of the running first. Losing that much money meant that he had stopped caring about who won the games after the end of the bloodbath; though he enjoyed the operatic drama to its fullest. The Dempsey girl and Wednesdae had put up the best show in his opinion and both of their deaths had been spectacular compared to some of the others. And then of course there was the drama between the sibling tributes. District eight certainly knew how to pick them. The Wolfe tributes travels he had followed with rapt interest. There hadn't been as good a crop of tributes as the sixty second had had in years.

The games were enjoyable to talk about and he missed being able to discuss it thoroughly with people. Before being assigned out of the Capitol, he had made it a point to go to as many viewing parties as he could; but out in seven? There, people had an unfortunate tendency to be sticks in the mud. Ah, the carelessness of youth. The rest of that day, he had spent milling about the hall in boredom. The air itself was a tad oppressive and he didn't feel like cracking jokes in front of a bunch of stiff shirts. Every year it seemed like more and more of his fellows lost even more of their sense of humors, and the reason why was something that escaped him, suspecting that they just didn't know how to find the funny in their jobs. But how hard could that be? As the protectors of Panem they often made things a lot worse. That should have been funny enough for anyone.

The second morning had brought with it his least favorite part of the conference; that being the subject of crime in their respective districts and how well they dealt with them. As he wasn't seven's head peacekeeper, he didn't have to explain much but he still had to say his piece. Personally, he hadn't collared any criminals recently, though he knew of a few crimes that had been stopped. Seven had just been kind of boring of late since woodcutters and bookbinders were not usually among troublemakers. Then again, Edward made it a point to avoid the fences(and therefore a majority of the trees) when he made his rounds, but he wasn't about to tell the rest of them about that little fact. Retiring to his room had been an easy decision after that and he had spent much of the day blissfully doing nothing important. But now, at this late hour it was starting to get to him. Surely he could have found more entertaining things to do by now? There were past games to watch and Avox's to order around, and yet he couldn't find the motivation to anything other than lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

A muffled scream somewhere startled him, and he sat straight up in bed with rapt attention. It wasn't followed by a second one, but with some strained listening, he could hear someone talking in the corridor. It sounded to him like a few of his fellows were having a little late night get together. Ed sighed and pulled on his pants, followed by his boots. Leaving his shirt hanging on the helmet on the table, he threw open the door dramatically and spoke rather loudly. "Keep it down will ya? Some of us are trying to sleep!" Looking up and down in both directions the hallway ran, he was surprised to see several other peacekeepers groggily opening their doors or standing in the misty hallway. Misty? Was an air conditioning unit on the fritz? Was that the cause of the scream? Perhaps he wasn't the only one whose ruminations had been disturbed. He stood there in the doorway flashing one of his wide smiles and wondered if anyone was going to give him an answer, apology, reply or explanation.