A Family Reunion {CC, closed}
Mar 2, 2010 22:32:10 GMT -5
Post by ja'mie on Mar 2, 2010 22:32:10 GMT -5
tristan briun . the muddled one
Tristan pulled on the stiff collar of the suit he was wearing. It used to be his father's reaping clothes, which disgusted him in his own right. Partly because it reminded him of the day everyone in the district feared, the day twenty-three children were chosen to die. Partly because it belonged to his father, his repulsive, cowardly, run-away father. And partly because of the mere fact that it was a suit in general and he was forced to wear it.
The rest of his family was in their reaping clothes as well, besides his older brother, who was at home in bed, sleeping. His mother had been biting her fingernails all morning while they were getting ready, worried about leaving Reece behind, but the fact was, the boy didn't want to go.
"He doesn't know what he wants..." She had whined, pulling out his old reaping suit as well, but then she had realized what her words were implying and she immediately dropped the subject. She was a good person, she really was, but it was hard. She babied Reece even more then his seven year old brother, Gabriel, ever since the accident. But they ended up leaving Reece behind, per his request.
Tristan unbuttoned his gray jacket and leaned against the punch table. Grabbing a cup, he drank it, slamming it back down onto the table. It didn't match the other cups exactly... all the families seemed to have contributed their silverware and table-cloths for the occasion.
Sighing, he surveyed the scene. Apparently the family was rather large, but why not? It's not like his relatives could move to a different part of Panem... so inevitably, they were all stuck in the crumbling remains of the last, poorest district. He still wasn't exactly sure why they were even having this reunion, or what exactly they were celebrating, but it seemed to mean a lot to his mother.
Speaking of his mother... he stood solemnly as she hurried over towards him, towing Gabriel behind her.
"Trist, darling, why don't you come meet the rest of the family?"
She inquired with a faint smile. Her expression wasn't genuine; he could hear the whisper of uncomfortableness in her quivering voice, but he hadn't seen her smile in ages. This must be important to her.
Yet, he was still reluctant. After a long moment, he grimaced, and forced himself to nod in agreement. His mother seemed happy, relieved almost. For a moment, Tristan stared at her silently. Why did she sound so much like that? For a split second, a sickly thought crossed his mind. Perhaps the quiver in her voice was directed at him? Had she been... scared of him? Of how he might react to her appeal?
Tristan downed another glass of punch, wishing vainly that it was not punch at all. The punch didn't accomodate him.
Bitterly, he turned to his mother, nodding once again. He didn't get to see her expression as she truned in the opposite direction, leading the family to a group of people. She seemed to be looking for someone in paticular.
Reluctantly, Tristan followed, slipping off his suit jacket all together. Did he mention how much he despised this suit?