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gm bourgeois decadence [aya]
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"GUNNERRRRR~"

{ s q u i r m } // geebs Jun 7, 2014 22:22:31 GMT -5

Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Jun 7, 2014 22:22:31 GMT -5

karen put me in a chair
fuck me and make me a drink
ive lost direction and im past my peak

Arbor Halt —

He was so hungover that the seasoned alcoholic had nearly puked from the effort of sitting up. Or from the way the room seemed to swoop and dive around him. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in an ill-conceived attempt to stop the spinning, but it was to no avail – rather, the lack of visual input made his dizziness even worse. The only thing Arbor could do to mitigate the feeling of being dive-bombed by gravity was to keep as still as possible – and that didn't even seem to help.

The fuck did I do? he mused, but the answer was never far from his mind. He collapsed back on the plush mattress, reaching a clumsy hand up to paw at his eyes. The thin white scar that crossed his palm in place of a lifeline caught his eye, his daily reminder to hate himself, just in case he hadn't given himself other reasons. On a morning (afternoon?) like this, however, a glimpse of his twelve-year-old sins did not hold a candle to whatever vice he'd partaken in the previous night.

Part of him didn't want to feel as guilty as he did — after all, the night after his last tribute's face played in the anthem, Arbor ritualistically went out to get shitfaced. It was fair, wasn't it? Year after year, it got no easier to send his pair of new charges off to the slaughter. And every time it felt like it did, every time he thought he might have settled into contentment, they'd go and throw a Brendon-shaped wrench into the works. People seriously wondered why he was an alcoholic?

As usual, his tributes were out of the running by early Day Two. It had actually been the first time that District Twelve was the first district entirely eliminated since before Arbor had won — if only because of District Eleven's tendency to implode during the actual bloodbath. Arbor had seen Eleven get wiped out first four times in the twelve years he'd been seeing anything at all. It was for the better that they were, he supposed — better to die early if you're going to die anyhow. (He grimaced, recalling the way his recent top-contender had dragged around a bloodied stump instead of a foot for three days before Saffron had caved her chest in with that flail of hers.) Besides, while Arbor didn't mind working to keep up with his tributes as long as they needed him, given the choice, he'd rather have the extra week to enjoy the Capitol before shipping back to Twelve.

The only problem was, it turned out to be a lot harder to find a babysitter when all of his friends were busy wrangling tributes and toddlers of their own. Cedar had been passed off onto the much-too-bubbly Gingerbread Krumms — just for the evening, he'd promised. The escort had protested at first; after all, she was more suited to wrangling sullen teenagers on the way to their deaths than she was at managing toddlers, but, being Arbor's son, Cedar was half a celebrity, and Gingerbread always loved showing off her famous connections. Somehow he didn't expect that the mild-mannered child minded being the district escort's show-and-tell for the evening any more than she would mind being the center of attention, yet neither would take kindly to how long Arbor had stayed out.

There was always something he needed to chastise himself for. Or someone.

With a great groan, he rolled out of the bed and began roaming around to hunt for his latest drunken conquest — or to collect his belongings and dash before he stirred. Seldom did the victor get so blackout drunk that he couldn't recall anything about whom he'd slept with the previous night, but there were exceptions to every rule. He recalled bits and pieces of a party, but no names or faces. The only distinguishing feature (which could hardly be considered distinguishing in the Capitol, the way current trends were) was a shock of vivid red hair. And a silver back tattoo, throwing reflections in the dim light. Other than that... well, he'd find out.

He stepped into his pants and out into the hallway and his jaw hit the floor. "I...?"

ooc - sorry i know it's a bad time with the reaping and all but i finished it and it's a thing? kind of? sorry sorry

{characters}

certified kindergartener
stranded in "beach" "city"
leader of the crystal gems

sbeeg
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{ s q u i r m } // geebs Jun 7, 2014 23:50:47 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jun 7, 2014 23:50:47 GMT -5

Poria Rain
Tributes and Tokens

Usually, Poria believes in making your own luck. Her special brand of luck includes detailed schedules of which days victors visit which bars, or where she might be able to snag a real life glance of a tribute. Poria's luck covers the inside of her office at Tributes and Tokens. In fact, her luck is color coded. However, sometimes the world cuts you a break and drops a gift right in front of you. That's what happened last night.

Seated in the bar a few streets over from her shop, Poria watched the Games footage. Most of it was just a recap of what happened during the day since most of the tributes were asleep by now. A drink in her hand, Poria closed her eyes as the anthem reverberated through the bar, blaring through the speakers and seeming to shake every bone in her body. In honor of these games, she had been wearing her special take on the games' uniform. It was very plain this year, but she managed it make something out of it and by out of it she means her tits were out. Well, not completely- partially. For the sake of fashion.

It had been a boring day, even with the Games on. She hadn't gotten into a single victor party at the start of the Games season and there wouldn't be anymore worth going to until the Victory tour. A whole week. A real drag. After downing her drink she started for the door, only to have it swing open and a man stumble inside. He reeked of liquor and who knows what else and could hardly stand on his own two feet. Pressing her lips together, Poria was about to throw some insult or another at the insolent drunk when he lifted his head up and the light hit his face.

It was a miracle. Like the Game Gods had seen her work and decided to reward her. For right in front of her (seriously like hardly a foot away) was the one, the only-

❤Arbor Halt❤

Poria sure was lucky last night. By morning she felt even luckier- first she had met a Victor who was too drunk to call her creepy, and by morning he was out cold! Who knows when he'd be able to get home! Luck is a precious thing, and Poria refused to squander it. So, while her sleep beauty was still drooling, Poria got up early and made breakfast for him. By make she means buy. No way in hell she made food herself. Opening the shop downstairs would have to wait until her precious conquest had awoken. She would have to show him the shop! Oh, and get an autographed photo to frame and put on the wall. Some of the bars had those and she had to snatch one up for her own collection. Just because she said she met Mace Emberstatt and got punched in the face by security didn't mean people believed her, she needed proof.

Finally the bedroom door creaked open and he- Arbor Halt, Victor of the 54th Hunger Games- stepped into her hallway looking like total shit. It was magical.

"Good morning!" she giggling, unable to control her excitement. Running over to the man, she threw her arms around him and hugged him a little too tightly. "You slept well, yes?"

The situation might have been slightly more comfortable if Poria had thought to put on shirt, but she was just so proud of her victor tattoo trailing down her spine that she couldn't bear to cover it up, especially an owner of ones of the names was present.

Ending the hug but still holding her arms around the man's neck, Poria examined his face smiling like a lunatic. "You know Mr. Halt, I'm your number one fan."

gm bourgeois decadence [aya]
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last seen May 27, 2024 11:51:49 GMT -5

"GUNNERRRRR~"

{ s q u i r m } // geebs Jun 8, 2014 23:21:30 GMT -5

Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Jun 8, 2014 23:21:30 GMT -5

im telling you
this isnt me no this isnt me
karen believe me
you just havent seen my good side yet

Arbor Halt —

The shrill "Good morning!" jarred him awake — or deeper asleep, if this was really and truly the nightmare that Arbor Halt genuinely wished it was. His eyebrows flew upward in shock so fast that Arbor was half afraid he pulled a muscle in his face. The startled victor had no time to recover before the woman — yes, woman — charged at him, chest exposed, all perk. His expression changed to one of horror as he was entrapped in a true death grip: one quite reminiscent of wrestling Rocko Hopkins to the ground to silence him for good. Except then there had been two heavily padded jackets between Arbor's bare chest and the other's nipples. His face flushed, his skin crawled. Needless to say, that was a hug he did not return.

He only managed to squeak out a meager "Uhuh" in response to the "You slept well, yes?" that came in too loud and too close, a knife in his hangover-hindered eardrums. The dreamless sleep had been far and away better than what he'd woken up to. Focusing on his breathing provided him a temporary calm, but the unending stream of the fuck the fuck the fuck the fuck sliced through the semblance of serenity in mere seconds.

After a literal eternity, she slackened her grip on his torso, only ensnaring him by the neck. "You know, Mr. Halt, I'm your number one fan." I don't fucking doubt it but I wish this would stop happening to me. Irritation settled on his face, winning out over terror and discomfort. He ducked under her arms and took a step backwards, reflexively crossing his arms over his chest in defense. One came to rest on the thick scar that traced his sternum, an old courtesy of Anastasia Estrange.

"I'm sure you are," he murmured, staring her down for a moment, genuinely concerned for what she might do next. But he'd had his guard up now, and it's surprisingly difficult to ambush ~~a blind kid in the snow~~ any attentive person. Arbor took stock of his surroundings: what he could grab for a weapon, the door that appeared to lead out and away from her, windows he could use in case that didn't pan out. He already considered the clothes he wore out the night before to be a total loss, save for the pants; it wasn't worth it to go back for him, regardless of the reaming he'd receive from the ever-exasperated Lithias upon his return.

"Look, I don't know what happened last night, but don't get the wrong idea..." Perhaps that was dangerous territory to wade into. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I need to go," he asserted. "I have to get back home, my son —" has been waiting all night and all morning for me and I'm horrible for leaving him for so long. "I need to go," he repeated.

{characters}

certified kindergartener
stranded in "beach" "city"
leader of the crystal gems

sbeeg
Retired Staff

3,503 POSTS
Pronouns: she/they
last seen Nov 1, 2023 5:54:37 GMT -5

{ s q u i r m } // geebs Jun 24, 2014 11:26:39 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jun 24, 2014 11:26:39 GMT -5

Poria Rain
Tributes and Tokens

There was a brief moment when Poria started to doubt that Arbor Halt was anything less than thrilled to be in his current situation. Of course she realized that a night with a Victor was no big deal for the Victor themselves. He slipped out of her embrace and Poria tried to make sense of his choppy, desperate sentences. Was... was Arbor displeased with her in some way? She had done everything to make sure he was comfortable. Poria would never forgive herself if she did not meet his every and any need while under her care. Considering the man for a moment, Poria threw her hands in the air as she realized the problem.

"Oh Arbor!" she giggled. "You don't have to act coy around me! I mean after what we did last night there's no need to treat me like a stranger."

She skipped around the man, pressing her palms against his back to usher him down the hallway. "Besides I made breakfast for us! I'm sure Cedar won't mind if you're gone just a little while longer."

Poria made a mental note to show Arbor the entirety of the Victor Offspring line she started selling in her store. Buy an Eden turner doll and get a free Camilia plushy free! She wondered what Arbor would think of the Halt Brand Whiskey that was downstairs on display as well. Hopefully he wouldn't take offense, maybe he's even sponsor it!

"Oh I almost forgot!" she shrieked, abandoning her post behind Arbor and hopping in front of him. "You wanted to see my tattoo in the light!" Her fingers skimmed her back trying to pin point where the man's name was on her spine. There was a mole beside Julian Bryze so a few inches above that was Arbor's name. "What do you think?"

The woman tried twisting over her shoulder to see his face. After all it wasn't very often she was able to get a Victor's opinion of her tattoo, and anything that came out of a Victor's mouth was worth writing down, publishing, and worshiping as demonstrated in the "From The Mouths of Babes: Victor Speeches and Quotes" line of books sold downstairs.