sandwich two point zero. {frankel}

sandwich two point zero. {frankel} Feb 7, 2017 17:08:01 GMT -5

Post by [GM] EKRAM NOVARA | mattio on Feb 7, 2017 17:08:01 GMT -5

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Atticus Manor

”Fifty and more?” he said in pure disbelief. Fifty-something was more than the number of tributes Atticus had seen go into the arena since he had won. All but two had died, and now he’d have to witness double that within a few weeks.

Atticus had two tributes under his and Klaus’s watch, Wylla and Ave. He didn’t know how likely they were to survive, but like he had with Deja and Bolts, he wouldn’t give up on them. There were fifty others, however, that Atticus knew would suffer the same fate if Ave or Wylla were to survive.

Other than his two mentees, he knew three other tributes by relation. There was a girl Shaw, Astrid’s relative. There was Sol’s younger brother, and then a Cheyne. He had positive encounters with two, but the other, the blood-loving Cheyne’s family member, wasn’t so positive. It had confused him that after District Four’s hurricane devastated the family and district as a whole, that they could still have anger toward Atticus for doing no direct damage to Hettie.

Atticus sat in the lobby of the Training Center, contemplating the past year. His group of friends remained close and his constant ‘What ifs’ continued to linger within him. What if my spear hadn’t killed Eryn? What if I was the target of a mass-hunt. What if..

Deja’s heart-filled and opening letters about her horrifying past continued to raise question in his mind. To tell someone and expose these people or not.. that was the question. Fear was the only thing to hold him back, the fear that if he did something about it, what would become of him. After all, he may have been lucky during the games, but real life allowed no room for luck.

Looking up from his twiddling fingers, he saw groups of people making their way around the center. Each person he saw brought a new beat in his heart, their life breathing into him like plant absorbing water. There were people like him who shared his fears and fate, but the people who didn’t understand made him the happiest. They didn’t need to, and it made them lucky.

It was then that a brown haired boy approached him. A familiar one at most, but nothing more. He let his breathing soften as he looked up at the teen that came up to him. Atticus smiled, ”Can I help you?”

~~You don’t want help Atticus.. you should have walked away.~~

made by ghosty

sandwich two point zero. {frankel} Feb 8, 2017 7:33:04 GMT -5

Post by d1b portia maybach 🏆 frankel on Feb 8, 2017 7:33:04 GMT -5

So many names, famous names. Names that accompanied Henrietta into the swamp, but they were just names to Ronnie, nothing special about a name. A reputation had built around Ronnie’s name, since Henrietta perished three years ago, blood-loving family, not everyone in the family is as insane as she was. Well that is what Ronnie thinks anyway. A thirst for blood? Surely it cannot taste very nice. There are other fluids which are much more too his taste on offer anyway and he doesn’t have to kill to retrieve it.

Seven others accompanied him on the train; such a handful for the poor Leon Krigel, hopefully Ronnie gave him enough comfort on the journey.

It only came to his mind just ten minutes before stepping off the train that he would be there. District Three victor, Atticus Manor, a male he had already acquainted himself with. Since his parents took in Jaime after his family was taken in the tsunami and his sister died in the swamp before then, he has had to endure his cousin’s rants about the particular victor. ”He didn’t kill her, shut up.” Atticus is a pretty face on the screen and in real life too and oh boy, he will be able to see him again.

Oh so many sad faces, why is nobody smiling. The atmosphere in the centre felt exhausting, they are all volunteers. It is the first day and the dull interior is already getting to him, he yearns for the one in Four, his second home. There are his friends, his brother, everyone that he loves but here, here are sad faces and nobody to love…Look at Justice Fray, Ronnie, isn’t he a delight for sore eyes. The voice in his head is well acquainted with his particular tastes. Oh and look at the old Mace Emberstatt, a man well fed has never put you off before.

A smile prances across his face as he is left alone in the company of the voice while standing by the target practice station. Before he gets the chance to fill his hands with a bow, his focus wanders away to another victor, filling his vision with glee. Look at Atticus Manor… He abandons the station, his next journey towards the alone victor.

”Can I help you?” Before words can even spill from his mouth, the victor acknowledges him, triggering a smirk to take over Ronnie’s face. Ronnie moves to the left of him, leaving an inch gap between him and the victor, his face turned on Atticus’ direction. ”Oh, I thought I’d come over and help you. You look lonely.” His bottom lip sucks into his mouth as his eyes widen ever slightly, as if he was a dog begging for its master’s attention.