mismatched mirrors :: {cass/opal}

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,

Finally temptation took control. And within moments Opal had danced all the way over to the plants station. Hands clenching and unclenching at her sides she stared greedily at the dozens of plants and berries laid out before her. She had been desperately trying to stay away from them, knowing no good would come out of her obsessing over them. But after three days it was getting to her and passing by them every day, over and over again was just driving her insane. With a slightly shaky hand she picked up a delicate red flower. It was a completely harmless flower and in the ways of food and healing it was useless. Opal loved it because of its colour, it was a very deep ruby red, and it reminded her of the roses she grew at home. This plant, however, had a special deal to it. At night it closed up real tight as though trying to stop the darkness from getting in, and if you watched it all night you could see that slowly at first, but then faster and faster the outside would begin to glow. It was only a faint touch, but it did.

Opal had watched it a number of times, a laugh pulling from her lips every time she witnessed it. Gently she touched each petal, bringing her face closer to the beautiful flower, it smelled amazing. A sad little smile graced her face as she turned her gloomy eyes away, to her surprise she found herself staring at the odd, but adorable girl from district twelve. "Your sister- she died in the Games last year, too, didn't she?" The question was so abrupt and unexpected that all Opal could do was stare for a few minutes, mouth fumbling over the correct response. ”Erm… Yes, yeah-yeah, she did. Emerald, was her name. I miss her… sometimes. Do you miss your sister?” She wanted to take that back, of course she did, of course the girl missed her sister. What kind of normal person wouldn’t? Clasping a hand to her mouth she tried to think of something to say to redirect the conversation.

”Why are you so short?” The words tumbled from her lips and she stared in horror at the tiny girl before her.

Cathedral, where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,

She watches Opal stutter a few more words and Opal just stares, the words having left her mouth without her say so. She knew that it was rude and maybe even a bit cruel to say what she had said. She wouldn’t have liked it if someone had of said that, asking her why she was so small, but then Opal was often the girl that spoke before thinking. It had gotten her into a fair amount of trouble, trouble that she had always managed to wriggle her way out of, of course. For a moment she stares at the girl, curiosity gaining the better of her as her first reaction of horror fades. Why was she that short? Any twelve year old could be that short, but there was a certain age, kind of like wisdom in the girls eyes that spoke more than the supple young age of a twelve year old. "I was born with a condition that means my bones don't work like everyone elses," Nodding her head Opal looks intently at this strange little girl before her. There was something oddly intriguing about her and to Opal the fact that she had a disease did not make her appear any weaker or less strong.

"They break... really easily. I'm seventeen, actually," At first it shocks her, she was seventeen, she’d never have guessed that! That made Sierra older then Opal, which was a surprise. Sierra laughs and I find myself smiling at the sweet little sound. "I've kind of gotten used to it - when I was younger, I was the absolute best at hide and seek."

”That is fascinating!” She exclaims. “Well, it is awful, but yeah, fascinating. Erm… So do you like plants?” Again she tries to change the subject before she says something awful, with a flick of her hand she indicates the numerous amounts of plants beside them.

A certain strength seemed to cling to her, and Opal appreciated that. The short girl reminded Opal of her plants and the fact that it was some kind of medical condition just made her think of the few plants she had that just simply could not grow. They’d reach a certain height and then… they’d just stop! Only a few weeks before the reaping had she begun to pick out the little tell-tale signs of which ones would be like that. More often than not she’d protect them more, finding that little issue to make her natural need to protect and care for them grow. Right now she was faced with the same situation. Seeing Sierra and making that relation was doing nothing to prevent Opal from keeping her distance. If anything she wanted to care for the girl and help protect her. It wasn’t as much as seeing the weak and wanting to defend them, but more seeing something she liked and not wanting anyone to take that away from her.

Cathedral, where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,

She isn’t sure why, but Opal is worried that whatever she ends up saying will offend the girl. Seeing as she is seventeen she was most likely use to the comments, queries and questions. But then there were those people who would always be sour or rude to others that were simply interested. Sometimes it comes from people who had terrorised them and teased them just because they were different. And that hate turned into resentment and so they treated people the way they were treated. From the look of it Opal could draw the conclusion that maybe Sierra Birdbrook had had a decent life. Maybe there wasn’t only the disease and the countless problems that come with it, had it had a spark of warmth? A little bit of light? Her giggle snaps Opal out of her thoughts and Opal can’t help, but smile at the beautiful little sound.

"Plants?" She responds with a shake of her head, then as though realising that we were standing beside the plants station she exclaims, "Oh! I kind of wasn't brave enough to have a shot at picking up one of those weapons," again she lets out another laugh, but this one is tainted by a bit more nerves. Opal nods her head, having already expected that. She was rather small, and she looked, sadly, like she would break very easily. However, that did not mean she should go into the games without some sort of training. Grinning widely she points over to the weapons, specifically at the table with the knives. ”Come on! Not all weapons are massive, and besides the smaller ones are the best to use.” Winking she skipped over the the table with the range of knives, spinning around she indicates for Sierra to follow, ”I’ll teach you how to use one!”

Cathedral, where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,

When Sierra Birdbrook mentions the justice building, and the fact that no one turned up to visit her in the justice building is a sight that Opal would never have pictured. It was also an awful sight to picture at that, the tiny, fragile little girl sitting in that plush room all by herself. Had Opal expected something different? Yes she had. She sure had believed that there would have been at least one person to go in there, her mother, at least. She could not tell you why, but she had assumed that the girl would have had someone go for her. She was after all not your average child; there should be some kind of family out there looking after her.

Opal did not, however, agree with the misery that came with the idea of having no one come and see you. In all honesty Opal would have loved to have traded spots with the tiny female from district twelve. Having no one there to see her after she was reaped was a blessing. The vivid memory or Pyrite’s vicious rant, hair pulling and all in all loathing. The words had stung, and bitten deep into Opal, she hadn’t known whether to scream or sob and so in the end she had done both before throwing item after item at the walls and door, her hoarse screams filling the room. She flinches, the memory vanishing before her eyes. “Lucky, I would have done anything to have my family not turn up.” She mutters, turning her attention to the small knives in front of her.

Cathedral, where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,