Sweet dreams {WT}

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Sleepy Fluttershy
District Mayor

970 POSTS

last seen Mar 30, 2022 16:20:24 GMT -5

«Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm». (Winston Churchill)

Sweet dreams {WT} Oct 18, 2018 15:58:10 GMT -5

Post by Sleepy Fluttershy on Oct 18, 2018 15:58:10 GMT -5

Carmen Stirling.
'Cause baby, I'm a weirdo

You are tired. No, exhausted. This day has been filled with too much training, almost enough fun and some nice food and there is no more space for you to fit in any more things. You are standing in the elevator after a short evening walk around the hallways of the building you are staying in. Everything is so shiny and clean that you want to close your eyes. The buttons are a blur in the net of your eyelashes. The white light is pouring down on you from the ceiling. You can't feel it, can't smell it, can't taste it, but it touches your skin and you watch the game of white and grey on your hand.

You are leaning down on the wall of the elevator and think about what you want to do tomorrow. You have to learn to use a weapon, not just mess around with bandages or firewood. Because when you run into careers - and you will if you survive longer than some other tributes - none of the things you currently know are going to protect you. You have to learn some basic self-defense moves, learn to fight back. And you don't even know with which weapon you are going to achieve your goal.

The light is calm and weightless, and the silence around is about to lull you to sleep. You don't want to resist this peaceful sensation in your body, and it is weighing on you until you land on the floor. The elevator is not moving and you are feeling too lazy to get up and push the button. It is too high. You can nap here and nobody is going to notice. Who cares, where you are going to spend this night? Not your fancy bed, not your mentor and probably not even your district partner - somehow you are sure that you are on your own in this place, whatever your connection to others might be. You want to sleep, sleep, sleep until tomorrow comes and you are sure you are not going to be disturbed here.

Lyrics: "Weirdo"

(graphics by Kaplan)

☆GABRIELLE☆

WT
Retired Staff

2,134 POSTS
Pronouns: they
last seen Sept 10, 2021 1:50:54 GMT -5

time, gender, furbies, and other things that don't exist

Sweet dreams {WT} Oct 20, 2018 0:30:23 GMT -5

Post by WT on Oct 20, 2018 0:30:23 GMT -5

The elevator doors glide open with a gentle ding, and Wander has a heart attack.

A jumble of thoughts pours through faster than ve can lurch forward to check the girl's pulse: how badly is she hurt, who hurt her, who should Wander get for help, the selfish but inevitable will they think I did it? Slumped under the cold electric lights, her body looks washed out, abandoned—until, with a soft, garbled sound that doesn't even have the heft to call itself a snore, her chest rises and falls.

All the panicked breath in Wander's body leaves in one loud rush as ve plunks vis forehead against the side of the still-open elevator doorway. Ve has got to lay off the coffee.

Looking back without the haze of caffeine-addled adrenaline, Wander realizes ve recognizes her—not by name, ve still doesn't have a handle on all of those, but as the troublemaker who volunteered for her older sister. From the sound of it, she's been holding her own in here, if not making an outright nuisance of herself—Wander overheard a rumor about syrup yesterday, or maybe jam, or maybe blood, the details weren't clear—but folded in on herself like this, she looks so small and quiet that for a moment all Wander can see is Nate. They have the same head of fluffy curls, the same lanky jumble of early-teen limbs, came mere breaths and two words from shouldering the same unnecessary fate.

Wander doesn't envy the older sister at home. Three heartbeats of that crushing horror had been four too many.

Late as it is and peaceful as she looks, Wander would love to let her rest, but not here. Just because no one has died in the Training Center in at least twice Wander's lifetime doesn't mean no one could this year, and someone wouldn't have to kill her to rough her up, anyway—not another tribute, and not a Peacekeeper who likes the look of an easy target.

She's not actually Nate, and Wander isn't her big sister. But they're both here.

"Hey," Wander says softly, kneeling to shake her shoulder gently. With a body no longer in the way, the elevator doors finally rumble closed behind ver, startlingly loud in the silence. "You're gonna get a crick in your neck. C'mon, what's your floor?"