Done with my Graceless Heart // [Mace+Lowes]

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
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cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

Done with my Graceless Heart // [Mace+Lowes] Aug 28, 2015 16:45:51 GMT -5

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Aug 28, 2015 16:45:51 GMT -5

a note from the desk of

Mace Emberstatt

of District Ten

when you never thought that it could ever get this tough,
that's when you feel my kind of love

The summer fled from District Ten, autumn staggering into its place. It was barely after six and the light had turned to oranges and pinks in the broad windows of the victor mansion's kitchen. Regalia stood on a booster at the counter, her arms too short to reach the length of the sink. Mace paced behind her, sometimes picking up a cloth to dry a dish, sometimes not. He walked with his hands tucked behind his back, his fingertips twitching incessantly. He did not hear the drone of his sister's words, or the pleasant hum of the water running.

He only heard her voice, buried in a decade of silence. It seemed to him that every day he spent without Julian, he drew closer to her. He was undoubtedly going crazy but he lacked the will to care. He couldn't forget her any more than he could forget his husband. And if he wanted to try? Fuck that, she reminded him.

"Hello? Can you be any help at all?"

Mace scowled at her as he took the plate - a miniature one, just the right size for Mason and - he wrapped the towel around the dish, pressing his jumping fingers against the softened porcelain. "I'm tryin'."

"No, Mace. No, you aren't." She sighed, lifting her hands from the soapy water. A few bubbles clung as she turned on the wooden step. "We all understand you're grieving. If you'd look around once in awhile, you'd see that all of us are. I miss him, so does Sew and Oscar and for ripred's sake, so do your children."

His brow furrowed. He heard her - more clearly than he heard Alexander, for once - but he couldn't make any sense of her words.

Reggie threw up her hands, flicking him with soap. "Have you always been this impossible?"

"My marriage is fucking over, Reggie. You don't get it." The anger sliced through him, cold as an icepick. His hands shook so violently that Reggie snatched the plate and towel out of his hands. She steadied them, instead of steadying him.

"That's so convenient. I can't understand what you've been through, because I'm not a victor married to another victor. Well, brother, I have news for you: neither are you."

Her words cut beneath the river of ice in his veins and the pick in his spine. It was not flaming rage that made him step towards her. It was cold and cruel, a hardening as his resolve as he towered over his petite sister.

"Get out," she said, even as her lower lip trembled. He looked down into her eyes, ready to end the conversation by whatever means necessary, and slowly came back to himself. Regalia, who was afraid of no one and nothing, locked her gaze with his. In her eyes he saw himself, the belt of knives at his waist, the Longsword of Charas in his hand, raised, ready to take the coin from her belly.

He dropped his arms. "This is my home."

"No. It's the home of Mace Emberstatt. When you find my brother, send him home. I don't ever want to see you again."

"Kieran, Mason, Coralee?"

She kept her gaze even as tears caught the corners of her eyes. "They don't need you."

She didn't have to tell him to leave again. He grabbed a wool jacket from the foyer and stumbled into the silhouette of twilight. He walked the length of the victor's village until inky darkness blanketed the District. Only then, as the chill of an autumn evening settled in his bones, did he realize his predicament: he was too far from the community home to walk and he had nowhere else to spend the night.

He hiked the collar of the jacket against his cheeks as he thudded against the Lowe's door. "It's Mace," he announced himself, feeling foolish as the sound of Coralee's shrill laughter rolled over him.

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credit ✨ zozo.

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eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris
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Done with my Graceless Heart // [Mace+Lowes] Aug 28, 2015 20:25:01 GMT -5

Post by eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris on Aug 28, 2015 20:25:01 GMT -5

PAIGE LOWE;

I don't have the drive to drag myself to a party & attempt drinking myself into a numb state, so I instead find myself lying in bed for the majority of the day -- curled up in the position of someone desperate for rest, but with eyes strained on the particles of dust that show through the rays of light that stream through my curtains. When I count them -- one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten -- I don't have to think, and I don't have to ponder what exactly my existence means. It's always better to preoccupy myself; when the fire in my chest can't ignite itself, and I can't laugh & smoke away the veil of fatigue on my shoulders, it's easier to just shut down.

I turn eighteen in a matter of weeks, and though it marks the day that I can finally escape & continue wrecking myself in isolation -- it also makes six years that Saffron and I stopped being sisters, and instead I became a girl made up of electrical wires and gunpowder, and Saffron's shaking hands can't seem to find the strength to defuse me. Tick, tick, tick -- and I'm sure she's saying her prayers that soon I'll be away from her and Mama, and then everyone will finally be safe. 'Cause Saffron went through Hell in that arena, and I'm not denouncing that, but when a little girl convinces himself that the best thing in her life is about to leave her, and spends days on end watching said thing cheat death over and over, you can't expect her to come out particularly sane. (Ripred knows I didn't.)

I've spent nearly six years convincing myself that the only person I need is me, and urging myself to break off ties with everyone -- because I had loved Saffron Lowe, and from that, I had nearly destroyed myself; and maybe I'm just eternally trapped in the mindset of a scared child, or possibly I'm just a reckless fool who got too caught up in the goal and stopped loving herself, too, but-... (Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.)

... It's easier to just be empty & blank, and as such I find my form curling up tighter, the sunlight in my room diminishing faster and faster, until it's nearly at the point that I should actually attempt to sleep. I go to turn, but a knock at the door sounds through the house, and my head perks up for a short second. I blink, pressing my head back down against the pillow, sure that Saffron or Mama will eventually go to answer it. A near minute passes, and a voice calls out. "It's Mace," it says, and I roll onto my back. I count the ripples and cracks in the paint above me, ears waiting to hear feet descending the stairs to greet the only other victor of our district. No noises come from the hall, however, and either Saffron or Mama went to do something without telling me as usual, or I'm suddenly the only one that cares -- and that's a terrifying thought.

I pull my torso up off the bed with a groan, tired bones creaking as I do so. I rise on wobbly legs, catching myself from almost tripping before making my way down the stairs to the door. I brush a few fiery strands of hair that hang from my loose bun away from my face, pulling open the thick wooden door with a shiver at the sudden rush of cold air, almost regretting having not grabbed a jacket to pull over my tank top. (Almost.) Mace Emberstatt stands before me, just as he had announced, and I find my eyebrows furrowing as I search for words. I've not been one for holding a conversation the past few years, usually allowing the alcohol to take control of my tongue -- Hell, I don't think I've ever had a legitimate chat with the man; nothing more than short words as a child.

"I don't think anyone else is home," I say, not taking the time to address my confusion. I stare at him for a short moment, and I shake my head at the noticing of faint similarities between him and Saffron. He went through the same Hell that she had conquered, and I'm sure that he's wrecked someone just as bad as Saffron wrecked me, but I can't help but to feel a sudden urge to speak to him. I inhale, clenching my jaw. Eighteen years -- and I've spent six eating myself alive, blaming my self-destruction on others; six years of biting my tongue around Saffron, and six fucking years of hiding the emotions that no one should have to keep inside. Mace Emberstatt is not family, and he's not a friend, but he's not a stranger -- and he's the closest thing there is to ~~my sister~~ Saffron, and maybe if I can't find the words to say to her, Mace Emberstatt can be the savior I've convinced myself I don't need.

"It's cold. I don't know what you're needin', but you can come inside," I say --

and I pray he won't be terrified of the storm of a girl that I've made myself to be.

TABLE: CHELSEY

all my girls got their lace and their crimes.

✨ zozo.
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bloomtodeath

Done with my Graceless Heart // [Mace+Lowes] Aug 30, 2015 5:42:52 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Aug 30, 2015 5:42:52 GMT -5

White walls are both constricting and endless, a contradiction - just like me. It's as if they haven't quite decided whether or not to suck the life out of my lungs and suffocate me or let me reign free without barriers of pattern and colourful distractions. Regardless of its endless argument, my mind begins to fall past shallow thoughts of wallpaper and into another world I thought I'd never find again. I am becoming my old self again - the tiny little girl they loved who barely spoke a word. These days I am tired and worn, no longer their first desire of interest. Whether or not that's a blessing or a curse is something I have the rest of my life to mull over, but for now I am trapped in my world of white - and my hand snaps back up in the snow to collide with Lucy's ribcage-

SNAP! and I am pulled back into reality for a second. I breathe in-

SNAP! and I am plunged into the horrors again.

There are goosebumps on my arms caused by tremors in my system. It's freezing in here but the snow has long gone and my windows are sealed tight in fear of my thoughts floating from the room and into the open air. Things are getting bad again. Except this time they are so much worse than before.

After a forever in my old life I resurface to the current and expect to find a child looking back at me in my reflection. She's still there, held together by fraying knots and loose screws half-heartedly attached by the Capitol. There aren't any ghosts beside her anymore. She has no sister to hold her hand, no brother to stand beside, no best friend to forgive her for the terrible tragedy she has become. Alone is a word I am not used to. I always had Mace. He was always there. And now I can barely look him in the eyes for we are not the same people we were six years ago and for the second time we are strangers passing by, never taking a second glance. I, a girl too small for her body yet too big for an image nailed into my skull and he, a man broken one too many times and his heart was the last of him left.

(I have not seen him for weeks and learn to thaw without his heart.)

SNAP! and I find comfort in longer days, the box beneath my bed, and the infinite horrors in my head. Forever lasts a minute, an hour, weeks at a time.

(Sometimes I think he was the one who froze mine in the first place.)

Summer fades away and I am still shivering.

Autumn arrives and I am still.

BANG BANG BANG! and my heart jumps in my throat and numbs my ability to speak. The wooden box cradled between my arms like a child is set down underneath my bed and silently I creep through the halls of my empty house and settle at the top of the stairs. A child again: I don't make a sound, stealing words from the mouths of the ones I love.

"It's Mace."

" I don't know what you're needin'..."

Not me. Not anymore.

An adult once more: my heart starts to crack.

leave a girl to face the sleet,
and she’ll adapt to the chill of the snow.

-♔-

Last Edit: Aug 31, 2015 7:24:56 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]
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9,638 POSTS
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cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3

Done with my Graceless Heart // [Mace+Lowes] Sept 3, 2015 19:37:31 GMT -5

Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Sept 3, 2015 19:37:31 GMT -5

a note from the desk of

Mace Emberstatt

of District Ten

when you never thought that it could ever get this tough,
that's when you feel my kind of love

It's cold, she says, as though the world is ever anything but cold. Mace brushed his chin against the flipped collar of the wool jacket. A few days worth of stubble, and his chin is nearly as rough as the material, whiskers raking against fibers. It's just enough to jar him, to distract him from the shards of ice in his bloodstream.

"Thank you, Paige," he says, the etiquette ground into him much more deeply than the remnants of the Fifty-Ninth. He angles his body so that he can step by Paige into the Lowe house hold while maintaining a maximum distance between them. He doesn't offer to take off his jacket; he's been over enough times that no one will be offended. If there's anyone to even offend. Their home has always been quieter than his, but today it borders on silent.

He turns to her, the question he shouldn't ask on his lips. He almost does anyhow because it has just been so damn long since he's held Saffron's hand. But one look from Paige and he swallows the words. As he can't ask about her sister, it doesn't feel right to ask about her mother, and suddenly he realizes that he has nothing to offer Paige. No point of connection, no useful bit of news. He hovers awkwardly for a moment, trying to think of something to say, stalling.

"You really suck at brooding," Regalia had said, some hours or days or weeks ago.

"Grieving," he'd corrected her.

"Whatever. You suck at it."

"At least I'm not out lighting up or drowning myself in moonshine."

She had fixed him with those bright eyes of hers. "Sometimes I really wish you would."

"I, uh," he clears his throat. "I could use a beer, or somethin'. Whatever you'd recommend since I ain't really got much experience drinkin'. Reckon now ain't the best time to start but..." He shrugs, the wool jacket accenting the movement.

At the top of the stairs, a shadow shifts. He centers his grey gaze on Paige, but the rest of him floods with awareness. He's never had more than a tiny sip of champagne in front of Saffron. He doesn't know if she'd approve, but then it's possible she's written him off entirely, the moment he decided to leave Julian and Juliet. He wants so badly to sort her slender outline from the shadows, but even more than that, he just wants to forget.

credit umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

credit ✨ zozo.

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