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last seen Nov 22, 2024 16:18:39 GMT -5

{ r a t h e r b e } ✺ finn/cha, train blitz Sept 23, 2014 21:51:13 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Sept 23, 2014 21:51:13 GMT -5

fionnbharr stoddard.

Despite the fact that my fate rests in her and her fate rests in me, I've never said a word to Cha.

When I volunteered I looked over a lot, too much in all honesty, but I guess making up for my mistakes is what growing is all about; I overlooked the fact of the justice building, I overlooked all of the district's eyes on me, I overlooked the fact that I wouldn't be alone. I overlooked the fact that I would leave Jael behind, and out of all I've learned in the past couple of hours, that's what scares me the most. In fifteen years, I've always had him by my side and he's always had me - donk, even the three years before me, he always had me. I swear to swear.

Leaving him there in that Justice Building - err, him leaving me there - made me realize a couple things: first off, he's not gonna be here to hold my hand through that arena. I wouldn't want him to either, at least not with those hairy hands. But as I take my step onto that train behind Cha, I miss his wet-dog smell a little more. Secondly, anything gone unsaid will remain exactly how is, unsaid. Now, I've never been exactly untalkative, my mother pointed that out often, but with only a couple weeks with these tributes I'll never get everything off my chest.

So, as I take my seat near the back window with one leg folded between the other and the red cushions, that I'll try my hardest to become the first person avoxed because they wouldn't shut up. Except with Cha, I don't even have a clue on where to start, so my voice jumps itself to stop myself hoping to the best of my abilities of vernacular that she'll catch something worth while out of my rambling. What do I even know about this girl?

Her name is "Cha," and she's from "district eight," and "she's at least older than me," and she's a "a volunteer." And at this point I realized the words floating from under my breath as I checked them off, "like me." She's a volunteer, like me and like Owen Bowers-Fox and Hope Woodards.

And without a doubt, one of us will make the train ride home; my paper airplane heart fell heavy in my district overalls.

How heavy is your heart, miss.

Last Edit: Sept 25, 2014 21:08:11 GMT -5 by Deleted

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{ r a t h e r b e } ✺ finn/cha, train blitz Sept 26, 2014 22:11:49 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2014 22:11:49 GMT -5

cha {♔} leviane

She knows nothing of what Fionnbhar Stoddard stands for, other than he stood in place of another boy.

Her conversation with Shelby lingers in her mind like a mosquito- looming, shadowing, haunting her. And it is not a memory she can push to the back of her mind like she's trained herself to do, because her sister's voice rang through her head like a bell in the night sky, crisp and clear, and could not be silenced by the other memories she so desperately clung to, because those were gone.

And so was she. And so was Shelby.

Mother and Father never made their way into the Justice Building, either too caught up in the fact that their eldest daughter had wrapped herself in the bony arms of Death or just driven away by the ghosts of past tributes that haunted the Justice Building, or so they believed. She never had believed those stories. No, she believed in ghosts, but she refused to accept that, if she were ever reaped {or, like she had, volunteered}, that she would end up tied to the Justice Building for all of eternity, floating like a balloon and watching new tributes come and go, and come back as a photo and a frame.

She was already tied down enough, she needed to be free.

And, she guesses, that's part of why she had said those two simple words, but truly not the full truth. That was the trick, there was no full truth, because not even she knew the truth.

She can hardly pronounce Fionnbhar's name, much less find the energy to raise her stardust sculpted eyes to his face when he gets on the train. Besides, she'd rather stare at the tray set in front of her, colorful fruit spilling over the sides, and try to count how many scratches there were on it than look at the boy in front of her. He's a volunteer, just like her, and she guesses that if she were forced to describe him in one word she'd say brave.

She'd describe herself as desperate.

Two very different things, and she assumes that, judging by his look of age Fionnbharr hardly had a grasp of either, nor does he have a grasp of life itself.

But then again, neither does she.

And his next words change her whole view of him, and raise her eyes from the scratched up plate in front of her to his hands resting in his lap.

"How heavy is your heart, miss?"

She shifts uncomfortably.

"Simple, it isn't.-

The only weight i'm worried about is the one I hold on my shoulders."

She returns to counting the scratches.

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{ r a t h e r b e } ✺ finn/cha, train blitz Sept 27, 2014 20:26:03 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Sept 27, 2014 20:26:03 GMT -5

fionnbharr stoddard.

"Simple, it isn't. The only weight I'm worried about is the one I hold on my shoulders."

"Oh, uh."

It was an odd question in the first place, asking somebody how heavy their heart is, and for a second I felt a little rude; maybe she could be conscience about the weight of her heart or something. But I wasn't really expecting an answer, logical nor metaphorical, I kinda just wanted to start conversation to cover up the silence, instead of an uncomfortable topic shift. Besides, I probably wouldn't have an answer either, if somebody ever asked me how heavy mine was I'd have to ask Jael, he'd probably know. Except he isn't here now, not him or Sunny or Matilda or Zac or-

Mother.

I'd never thought that I wouldn't see her again once I stepped on that stage, and I didn't think when Jael handed me the airplane or when Matilda handed me the bruise on my arm that she wouldn't be there to kiss the wound. For Jael, I had been expecting the fall, the jump off the cliff of home as soon as I left that Justice Building, ever since I stepped out of the crowd, but I never thought of mother just not being there. Man, besides Jael she was the only person there for me exactly all the time.

"I ain't too sure how I feel about this, Cha-" my voice chokes on my try at a fake accent while I say her name, I've never actually talked to her and usually I don't have great boundaries in conversation, and usually I don't mind if people dislike me. But see, this is my life, and she's the one chance I got at this. It's hard talking, talking to her, talking at all anymore, and I remind myself that there's twenty two others I got a chance with as I look into my hands folded over my lap.

But at the same time, I remind myself of my morals, the last thing my mother left me with and the last thing I held to me as I took my place on that stage next to her- Cha. I remind myself that we have no mentor, and that we are what we have, that we are family of district eight. And you don't give up on family.

"So, uh, better question," I say getting up, in all honesty I had nothing to say, nothing on my mind but JaelMatildaSunnyZachariahMotherMarshelChatter Cha. I wasn't worried about the weight of my head, I wasn't worried about the weight on my shoulders, I was still centered on my heart. On my family (it was still ridiculous to think about, my family, all there is now is Cha, and I'm not sure if I'm not scared).

"Got any family?"