i'd rather watch my { k i n g d o m } fall :: flight/bella

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Stare
Retired Staff

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last seen Nov 5, 2024 11:29:31 GMT -5

and i will hold you tight / like the moon in the arms of the sky

i'd rather watch my { k i n g d o m } fall :: flight/bella Sept 19, 2017 16:31:47 GMT -5

Post by Stare on Sept 19, 2017 16:31:47 GMT -5

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say it like you mean it
bones become dust
gold turns to rust
say it like you mean it

She felt their gazes digging into her back like knives.

Bella was used to being scrutinized. Those bound by social niceties would feign innocent curiosity, but she heard the whispers in the slums, too. Bastard born, princess of rot. Her favorite had been coined by an old man in an alley near the Training Academy, the words lisping through the space where his left front tooth should have been. Crocetti whore. Rodrigo would have had his head for it, but Bella had become accustomed to the harsh words.

What she was not accustomed to was interrogation from her own people. It felt strange, to be seated in front the white uniform and questioned over and over again until even she was sick of her own practiced story. Even as she spun her pretty lies, though, vivid memories rushed past her eyes. Blood on her hands and thick in the back of her throat. Darkness, ice cold fear. Hands on her arms, something bitter being shoved into her mouth. Still, she kept a polite and somewhat puzzled smile on her face as they continued their questions. Rodrigo had prepared her for them, of course, drilling her at least have a dozen times with the very same inquiries.

It had been unnecessary - the Keepers were diligent, but they didn't press her. They knew they'd find no holes in her story. As she stepped out into the open air, though, she felt a shift on the streets. Nothing actually changed. She heard the same voices calling out to each other, watched the same bustle she usually saw. They always tried to be discreet about looking, as if being caught would damn them, too. Turning to make her way home, however, Bella caught more than a few gazes watching her safely from darkened windows or behind vendor's carts. They knew. They all knew.

She'd been there that night.

As she slipped into the alleyway that led back to the Crocetti domain, her lips twisted into a smile.

They'd never prove it.

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Last Edit: Sept 19, 2017 16:34:31 GMT -5 by Stare

sadniss everdeen
Retired Staff

1,207 POSTS
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last seen Mar 14, 2023 11:31:04 GMT -5

nyte: date fossils? is that some kind of fetish?

i'd rather watch my { k i n g d o m } fall :: flight/bella Sept 25, 2017 21:53:41 GMT -5

Post by sadniss everdeen on Sept 25, 2017 21:53:41 GMT -5

wait
I'm starting to suffocate

It's been a week since Luna didn't come home.

Flight has paced half the District at least twice, prowled between alleyways and corridors, talked to anyone and everyone who have eyes or ears or both. No one's seen her, no one's talking. No one knows enough to talk. Flight nearly snapped the neck of some strung-out junkie last time, the latest search turned up empty just like the others, but she curled her fists and knocked his lights out instead.

She stared at his needle for much too long before turning away.

One murmur kept floating above all the others. In the middle of half-truths and conjecture, a name kept slipping off the lips of slumdogs and seers alike, one so filled with hatred and fear that she couldn't untangle them. Crocetti. If anyone knows where she is, it's one of them.

Oh, she knows them. Working for the Hammerfells opened her eyes to the power balance of this District, as lopsided as it is. They didn't have anyone so powerful in Nine, all the people beat down together - she sees their clothing and their smirks and the way the Peacekeepers keep a healthy distance and respect. She's run into them, duped them, traded blows with people indebted and desperate to them.

Flight has always hated the rich.

And maybe she isn't thinking when she sees one of them walking down the street. Maybe she's blinded by grief, by rage, by the what-ifs that roll around the hollow of her skull, desperately seeking an exit. Maybe if she stopped to think, stopped to breathe, she'd turn around and go home and hate the empty house she comes back to.

But Luna hasn't come home for a week. Flight hasn't thought at all since she vanished.

So she reaches out from the darkness and snatches the Crocetti's little bird from the streets.

Stare
Retired Staff

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last seen Nov 5, 2024 11:29:31 GMT -5

and i will hold you tight / like the moon in the arms of the sky

i'd rather watch my { k i n g d o m } fall :: flight/bella Dec 7, 2017 17:41:58 GMT -5

Post by Stare on Dec 7, 2017 17:41:58 GMT -5

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say it like you mean it
bones become dust
gold turns to rust
say it like you mean it

It was dark, and they were alone.

Bella wasn't entirely sure where she'd been dragged off to. Bruises were beginning to bloom like faded watercolors on her shoulders where harsh fingers had clawed into her flesh. They were in an empty room in an empty house, somewhere so abandoned that there was grass trying to grow through the floorboards and dark stains surrounded cracks in the ceiling.

She guessed that she was supposed to be scared. The pair of narrowed gold eyes shimmering in the false twilight created by the boarded up window was familiar, even if they'd never met before. Cesare and Rodrigo liked to keep her in the dark about most things, but Bella wasn't stupid. She could recognize the Hammerfell shadow when she saw her.

Flight DeRicasho.

The Careers of Two trained for glory in the Games. They honored the Capitol with the pathetic hope that one day, they would be honored in return. They thought that glory was won at the tip of an embellished sword, that honor was won in a simulated battle between children. Rodrigo said it was because they didn't know any better, because they would never know any better, and Bella had to agree. At five years old they'd been playing with fake blades. At five years old she'd been choking down poisons and spitting out blood.

Glory wasn't won in the Games. It was won here, in the shadows, where no one was looking and no one cared.

She offered a delicate smile. "I was wondering when I would finally meet the Hammerfells' bitch," she hummed, her head listing. "I know you're going to threaten to paint these floors red with my insides, so why don't we skip that bit and get to the important part. What the hell am I doing here?"

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Last Edit: Dec 28, 2017 1:00:35 GMT -5 by Stare