ozymandias {kay}
Jun 11, 2017 16:39:56 GMT -5
Post by sadniss everdeen on Jun 11, 2017 16:39:56 GMT -5
the devil was my very first kiss
he closed his eyes and I robbed him blind
now I'm the one that's rich
he closed his eyes and I robbed him blind
now I'm the one that's rich
two years ago;
It's been a week since they made it to Two. Spring has just relinquished winter's grip on the soil but nothing has begun to grow, warming their bones but not their bellies. This old house they've claimed groans and sighs along with its new owners, but there's a fire crackling in the hearth and a pile of blankets oddly clumped together to form a bed. It's nowhere close to luxury, but after months of running and hiding, it's good to be able to lay down their burdens in the same place every night.
Flight studies the new light that pours in from the sunrise, spilling gold across the worn floors. It catches the blue undertones in Luna's raven-dark hair and makes them shimmer, the sun at her throat glimmering. After Kaya, she thought she'd never open up to anyone again, but the catch in her throat as she watches Luna sleep tells her otherwise. It's terrifying to fall back into a love she'd forsaken, but Luna always was the one who made her brave enough to take the plunge.
Her stomach snarls. Flight levers her weary bones upright - twenty years young and too old for the body that houses her. Her skin had healed slowly without the proper nourishment to sustain it, and the warped remains of her fingertips are still pink like the day she was branded. They only hurt sometimes, but for some reason, she aches when it rains.
She leaves just after sunrise, as she does every morning, prowling the streets in hopes for something to eat. The fingerless gloves that hide her branded shame from the rest of the world itch, but she already attracts enough attention as it is - her blind eye blinks reflexively from the harsh morning light. Baked bread wafts in on the breeze, imported wheat from 11, and she clenches her jaw against the full-body rumble that comes from not eating for two days. Luna's looking for work but until then it's her job to support them, and there's really only one thing Flight is good at.
Her gaze zooms in on a blond boy hurrying his way across the square, a bag so heavy it almost seems to bend him in two. Within a glance, she's already taken in his crisp, clean clothing; his deliberately disheveled hair; the expensive detailing on his bag. Flight's fingers twitch, and she effortlessly falls into step behind him. Her stomach gnaws at her spine, but she bids it to wait.
Luna's been taking care of her all these months. It's time to turn it around, to show she hasn't forgotten the skillset that kept her alive all these years - anyone can be a criminal, but it takes a certain type of person to be great.
