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No Sound but the Wind // [Mace+Saffron+Marlboro+Patricia]
Jan 4, 2015 14:58:44 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Jan 4, 2015 14:58:44 GMT -5
a note from the desk of
Mace Emberstatt
when you never thought that it could ever get this tough,of District Ten
that's when you feel my kind of love
It was always the same speech, crammed down the throat of the newest victor. Mace tried to stifle a yawn but didn't quite succeed. It came out as a heavy sigh as Patricia squeezed out the final word. He caught a sideways glance from Saffron and shrugged. Maybe he should care more about other people's sacrifices, but their own was a gaping wound. Esme and Kirk had been more than worthy, and now all that was left of them would be on display, just as soon as the Capitol entourage left for the next District.
That wasn't Patricia's fault, though. Or Stella Calloway's. Or Fionnbharr Stoddard's. He couldn't blame anyone else but himself.
He rose with Saffron and Marlboro, his hands firmly at his side while the rest of the District clapped and cheered. He'd tried walking off the stage early in past years, only to meet the blunted end of a Peacekeeper's baton. And while the rib bruising had never bothered him, now Regalia and Mason looked on, and Juliet would see the feeds with Julian back in Two. So he rolled his fingers into fists and waited until the escort from Five waved them into the Justice Building, as though it was her home and not theirs.
Peacekeepers formed a unwelcoming reception line. Mace took his place at the end, next to Marlboro. "She's taller than I thought," he whispered as Saffron joined them. "Damn near my height."
Patricia Valfierno was not what he expected from Five. But then, he only knew Lethe, petite, matronly Lethe. Patricia was none of those things. She was stick thin, severe, intimidating. He hiked his chin a little higher, as though to remind himself that he had a few scant inches on her. But you can't come with me echoed over and over in his mind. No, the other girl could not. And neither could Kirk or Esme or Elon or Denver or Aesop or Alexander. He swallowed down her name, keeping it for himself.
"Miss Valfierno," he greeted her with a nod. He didn't want to reach for her hand, her new hand, her old one. It was too intimate. Instead he reached for Saffron's, across her body, for the flesh he knew so well. "I'm Mace. Uh, before the tour, I thought maybe Saffron could show you the ladies room?" He leveled his gaze at the Peacekeepers first. No reaction. Then he looked over Saffron to the restroom, conveniently located near a side exit. They'd never absconded with a victor before. Ten was always an easy stop. But there were questions he had, they all had, and he missed Julian and Juliet and he wasn't at all feeling up for another tour, another distant greeting. Patricia was a Victor now, part of their forged family. And he wanted to know her, not a year from now, but this instant.
That wasn't Patricia's fault, though. Or Stella Calloway's. Or Fionnbharr Stoddard's. He couldn't blame anyone else but himself.
He rose with Saffron and Marlboro, his hands firmly at his side while the rest of the District clapped and cheered. He'd tried walking off the stage early in past years, only to meet the blunted end of a Peacekeeper's baton. And while the rib bruising had never bothered him, now Regalia and Mason looked on, and Juliet would see the feeds with Julian back in Two. So he rolled his fingers into fists and waited until the escort from Five waved them into the Justice Building, as though it was her home and not theirs.
Peacekeepers formed a unwelcoming reception line. Mace took his place at the end, next to Marlboro. "She's taller than I thought," he whispered as Saffron joined them. "Damn near my height."
Patricia Valfierno was not what he expected from Five. But then, he only knew Lethe, petite, matronly Lethe. Patricia was none of those things. She was stick thin, severe, intimidating. He hiked his chin a little higher, as though to remind himself that he had a few scant inches on her. But you can't come with me echoed over and over in his mind. No, the other girl could not. And neither could Kirk or Esme or Elon or Denver or Aesop or Alexander. He swallowed down her name, keeping it for himself.
"Miss Valfierno," he greeted her with a nod. He didn't want to reach for her hand, her new hand, her old one. It was too intimate. Instead he reached for Saffron's, across her body, for the flesh he knew so well. "I'm Mace. Uh, before the tour, I thought maybe Saffron could show you the ladies room?" He leveled his gaze at the Peacekeepers first. No reaction. Then he looked over Saffron to the restroom, conveniently located near a side exit. They'd never absconded with a victor before. Ten was always an easy stop. But there were questions he had, they all had, and he missed Julian and Juliet and he wasn't at all feeling up for another tour, another distant greeting. Patricia was a Victor now, part of their forged family. And he wanted to know her, not a year from now, but this instant.
