I Wanna Buy Him! {Ivar & Chaos}
Feb 9, 2017 1:44:00 GMT -5
Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Feb 9, 2017 1:44:00 GMT -5
Various criticism and lectures plagued my ears when alcohol became my best friend at the age of fourteen. Those damn hypocrites -that I’ve been doomed to tittle as my Parents- scolded me for my late nights of consumption, when training was forcefully due at the crack of dawn every following morning. They didn’t think I could achieve such. Yet here I am, days before entering my death location, carving swords into dummies with pristine focus as though my rage couldn’t fuel me more. Surprisingly the palms of their hands, or knuckles of their fists, didn’t punish me for my drinking behaviors. Perhaps it’s because they couldn’t, because I was turning out just like them- except better.
One after another the necks of these inanimate objects receive savage gashes from my practice blade, just as I’ve been trained for since the age of Nine. Maybe those brutal Breeders were actually curious if I could manage my routine; inhaling at least six beers a night, slumbering for a mere four or five hours, and dragging myself to Career training for the length of the Sun’s visit. It had became my cycle of a routine. But I did it though, even with bags decorating underneath my eyes. Sleep was for the weekend. It was when my idiotic success was deemed true, that the physical lashes began again- they were merely jealous. I refused to allow alcohol to destroy me entirely as they had. And their reaction only made me continue this more.
Even within the Capitol, with my deceased fate awaiting me in the near future, my habit refuses to alter. The poison of my beverages makes me feel more alive, even if I know it’s surely crumbling my health. Sweat of pure alcohol drips down every itch of my exterior, and still a smile controls my shape of my lips. The next target misplaces it’s head entirely with my final blow, before the call for lunch sings through the vast gymnasium.
The flask, I’ve been refraining from sipping too often, gets retrieved as I carve my path towards the dinning hall. It was a patient wait for lunch before I allow myself a significant reward. Elation devours me -practically providing a skip within my walk- until I’m greeted by the tables. Even still Lightning refutes conversing with me, which I’ve been attempting to avoid considering. My eyes scan across the other Tributes while I gather my meal, wondering if I’ll be dinning alone again.
A sturdy Tribute from Two catches my vision, and it’s difficult to forget him amongst these countless candidates. Within the reaping recaps he dragged himself to the stage with such determination. Even around here he’s rejected any transportation aid, as he hurls his lifeless bottom half around. It’s possible the majority already see him as half dead, while I view someone who’s beyond capable. I wouldn’t want to encounter him within the Arena. Here however?
Bravery from the alcohol controls me as I take a seat across from him. And with another gulp from my flask, the beverages master much more then just my actions. “Hi there, Handsome.” A wicked grin creases my cheeks. One downfall of even being slightly under the influence, is I become far too much of a flirt. Sober I would be beyond bashful. While with a few drinks… “I must ask, can you feel somethings down there… or should I say, something.” My words are vague, while my pitch certainly implies a deeper meaning.
