Black & Blue //Kay
Sept 24, 2014 7:56:07 GMT -5
Post by charade on Sept 24, 2014 7:56:07 GMT -5
Kirk Marshall
district ten male
When I'm down in a grave, and you've put me to rest
Everything that I say won't mean anything less
Everything that I say won't mean anything less
Stars. That's all Kirk could see in his head even though he had left the last car at least an hour ago if not more. After deciding that he had had enough stargazing, Kirk had made his way to the food car, thinking that it was probably about time he ate something. There weren’t any clocks that he could see in the train, and the moon outside didn’t tell him much other than that it was sometime in the evening. When he got to the table, he found that he couldn’t identify more than half of the things on the spread. Not wanting to eat something foreign, he kept searching through it until he had found a corn on the cob, some baked beans, cole slaw and a slice or two of brisket.
And it tasted good.
Once his stomach was full, Kirk set about emptying his head, and he knew he could only do that if he found where Mace was staying at. As he wandered throughout the train, he wondered why they bothered making it so big when only five people were aboard it. Six, if the driver counted. There was a lot of space that went unused which Kirk found wasteful. Soon enough, he found who he was looking for and corrected his tally to seven people, because a young boy that had to be Mace’s son was with the victor. Not for the first time, Kirk tipped his hat.
“Sorry if ah'm disturbing ya. I just had some things ah wanted to say before ah don’t get a chance to.” Kirk cleared his throat and hoped that he wasn’t making a fool of himself. “Ah’m grateful for what ya and Miss Lowe have said an’ done so far but, ya ain’t gotta sugarcoat it for me. One in twenty-fo ain't good odds for no one but careers." And just like that, thinking about the six tributes that probably lived for this, Kirk's bravado deflated. He leaned forward, dropping his head and staring at the floor. "Shoot, ah ain’t a killah Mistah Emberstatt. Ah make things with my hands, not break ‘em. Ah got no right being here." For a moment, he thought he was going to lose it, but like so many times before, he pushed the feelings back and bottled them.
"Anyways,ah saw the look ya gave my answer earlier and ah wanted t'give it to ya straight. My folks, they ain't who they used to be. I got no reason to come back. Ain't nobody I care for or that cares for me." He lapsed into silence, waiting to let Mace talk if he wanted to. After a few moments had passed, Kirk spoke up again. "But that little lady in the car back there? Ah bet she does. It dun breaks ma heart to see a young 'un have to go through this." Kirk stopped again. Raising his head, he found it hard to look at Mace, so he turned to the window instead, drumming his fingers on his leg in agitation. "Y'see, ah wanna put it awl on the line an git that young 'un home. Ah ain't gonna lie, ah'm scared. But ah'm more scared about the kind of person ah'd be if ah let her die." It took a moment to get the next words out., they felt stuck in his throat the way a piece of gristle would be.
"So I guess ah came t'see ya because if ah'm helping her get home well..."
The drumming stopped. Kirk blew out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. "Ya know what ah'm saying. Dun make me say it out loud. Just...Ya know where the forge is. Ya know what ah do every games. Well, one o' the plates ah made, ah made a couple years ago and it's on the side o the doorframe." Finding some courage, if it could be called that, Kirk fixed the victor in front of him with an earnest look and stuck a hand out. “Kin ya promise me that you'll git it where it needs to go when the games are ovah?"
And it tasted good.
Once his stomach was full, Kirk set about emptying his head, and he knew he could only do that if he found where Mace was staying at. As he wandered throughout the train, he wondered why they bothered making it so big when only five people were aboard it. Six, if the driver counted. There was a lot of space that went unused which Kirk found wasteful. Soon enough, he found who he was looking for and corrected his tally to seven people, because a young boy that had to be Mace’s son was with the victor. Not for the first time, Kirk tipped his hat.
“Sorry if ah'm disturbing ya. I just had some things ah wanted to say before ah don’t get a chance to.” Kirk cleared his throat and hoped that he wasn’t making a fool of himself. “Ah’m grateful for what ya and Miss Lowe have said an’ done so far but, ya ain’t gotta sugarcoat it for me. One in twenty-fo ain't good odds for no one but careers." And just like that, thinking about the six tributes that probably lived for this, Kirk's bravado deflated. He leaned forward, dropping his head and staring at the floor. "Shoot, ah ain’t a killah Mistah Emberstatt. Ah make things with my hands, not break ‘em. Ah got no right being here." For a moment, he thought he was going to lose it, but like so many times before, he pushed the feelings back and bottled them.
"Anyways,ah saw the look ya gave my answer earlier and ah wanted t'give it to ya straight. My folks, they ain't who they used to be. I got no reason to come back. Ain't nobody I care for or that cares for me." He lapsed into silence, waiting to let Mace talk if he wanted to. After a few moments had passed, Kirk spoke up again. "But that little lady in the car back there? Ah bet she does. It dun breaks ma heart to see a young 'un have to go through this." Kirk stopped again. Raising his head, he found it hard to look at Mace, so he turned to the window instead, drumming his fingers on his leg in agitation. "Y'see, ah wanna put it awl on the line an git that young 'un home. Ah ain't gonna lie, ah'm scared. But ah'm more scared about the kind of person ah'd be if ah let her die." It took a moment to get the next words out., they felt stuck in his throat the way a piece of gristle would be.
"So I guess ah came t'see ya because if ah'm helping her get home well..."
The drumming stopped. Kirk blew out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. "Ya know what ah'm saying. Dun make me say it out loud. Just...Ya know where the forge is. Ya know what ah do every games. Well, one o' the plates ah made, ah made a couple years ago and it's on the side o the doorframe." Finding some courage, if it could be called that, Kirk fixed the victor in front of him with an earnest look and stuck a hand out. “Kin ya promise me that you'll git it where it needs to go when the games are ovah?"
