please, [u n d e r s t a n d] // {soap/magenta}

The train was cold.


At least to Magenta is was. But they could have been headed for the surface of the sun, (weren't they, though?) and still her bones would rattle against her skin, too terrified of what was to come and struggling to contain the emotions she kept swallowing back. Magenta did not cry. She didn't. She wouldn't let herself. She sat at the booth most opposite of a boy called Soap, who had apparently volunteered in place of another boy. She would have been scared of him if she hadn't been so out of it as soon as the name "Magenta Ryker" vibrated through the Square as if lightning had struck her core. He was a little dirty, with a slightly crooked nose and big pointed ears, but he wasn't entirely unfortunate. His dark hair complimented his eyes, which looked incredibly sensitive and perhaps still shocked that he had volunteered himself for slaughter.

"Can I ask you something?" The girl asked, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees, propping her chin up on her hands. She didn't wait for the boy with bravery in his eyes to answer. "Why did you volunteer?" It was incredibly personal, she knew it, but she guessed it wouldn't make much of a difference to him now. Surely he'd be asked the same question by Ceasar Flickerman in front of a live crowd and, of course, all of Panem. At least now he would have a little more practice pulling the words out, either from the bottom of his heart or his ass. She wondered if he actually would lie to her, or if he would open up. She tilted her head and tried to look friendly.

If she hadn't been so depressed, (how else would one that was just summoned for slaughter supposed to feel?) she might have smiled at him, or encouraged him to just talk to her. She might have used her charm, that look in the pits of her eyes that always made boys melt, to make him melt in to putty that was free for her to use, but visions of how she would die and when (the bloodbath, maybe?) kept clawing at the inside of her skull, and it was all she could do to hold back the tears.

She stood, walking over to his side of the train car where they waited. She didn't know why, but she wasn't just trying to fill in the silence of the train gliding along the tracks so quickly that seeing the world outside in a perfect view was difficult unless they practically focused on the horizon. Magenta was a social creature, and she was desperate to fill the void in her heart. She needed comfort.

Her father had tried to comfort her when he came. He said her mother had passed out and was being brought to the medical center as they spoke, and he promised she would be fine, that he was sure she would want him to hug her an extra time. She had almost started crying, (she wasn't supposed to cry, dammit.) but then the peacekeepers flew into the room and stole him away after allowing only a small hug. They took her father just as quickly as they had allowed him in, and she felt even more lonely than before. She blinked away the fresh memory and stared at Soap. She found his name ironic, since he obviously didn't use enough of the stuff he was named after. She took a seat next to him and nodded slightly, as if giving him a signal to start speaking. "Sorry, not trying to be rude. Just... curious."

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