Prayer for the Dying [Geebs]
Jan 17, 2019 16:50:58 GMT -5
Post by Kire on Jan 17, 2019 16:50:58 GMT -5
[attr="class","atvertical"]victor | |
[attr="class","angerytoad"]He had failed her. What little he could gift her was insufficient to save her. When Bette's knife had gashed the final wound into her shoulder, draining the last of her strength, he knew that he should have remained within his house like he had been doing for the last five years. Now, he was the mentor of two children who would never return. Or so he had thought. The Capitol's cruel cat-and-rat games meant that this year's devastating twist brought all of the tributes back from the dead and restored them to perfect health - or nearly perfect. Lost limbs were not replaced, mental trauma wasn't healed. Even with the physical scars cleansed from the body there was no way to take away the suffering each of them had gone through. He understood that well enough. The rat made him watch the crowning ceremony. He had hidden away in his rooms, the recluse rising in him and locking him out of sight. Her small paw had turned the television on before she had scampered back up to his shoulder and nipped his ear. Of late she had been more forceful, more aggressive in getting him to listen. Ripred's voice echoed rarely in his head anymore but when it did it boomed like a cannon. He felt the distant vibrations of those who died during his own Games as he had seen the ones occurring around Temple, and then Temple's own demise. He was finally able to think her name again, now that she was returning home. The moment the twenty-three supposedly dead tributes had been revealed to be alive he had felt his breath catch in his throat. The rat on his shoulder squeaked reassuringly in his ear. Distantly, but warmly, he felt the presence of Ripred. A gift, he had been given a gift. Immediately he clasped his hands together and bowed his head. O Ripred, I hold a gratitude to you for such a working. I know her road ahead will be hard, harder than mine, and I know the gift you have given me is as much a test as a reward. You have granted me a second chance, as you have done before. I accept the responsibility you grant me, I take her as my charge as you have done me. There's a wetness on his hands, small trails of tears that he doesn't realize are falling. You are my guide, I am your servant. I see the path you are unwinding before me and I shall tread it without hesitation. Thank you, Ripred, for granting her and me each a second chance. When he opens his eyes his rat is sitting in his lap, on paw on his hands. On the floor in front of him is a young male rat. The little body is shaking slightly, nose twitching as he tried to judge the nature of the man before him. Reaching out a hand to the rat, he offers his scent to the creature. As though knowing a kindred spirit, the young rat climbed onto his fingers. Raising him to eye level, he shares a look with both of the rats. One corner of his mouth raises slightly, his heart a little lighter than it has been in over five years. "She will be glad to have you." ---------------------------------------------------------- He waits now at the train station, hands clamped to his sides as though they might float away if he were to let them. There is a rat on his shoulder and a rat in his pocket. The young rat is much more timid than his own, and perhaps that will be better for a girl who has been surrounded by so much false bravado and true violence. She is approaching, and it is only now that he is struck with the knowledge that he has no idea what he is going to say. Normally words come to him with relative ease, even if he refrains from using them to communicate with anyone but Ripred, his mother, his brother, and the rats. Often he doesn't even have to speak to the rats for them to know what he is trying to say. His own rat, especially, seems almost to read his own mind. A silver mist seems to line her face for a moment like the moon lowered out of the sky to shine from her eyes. Ripred's meaning is clear: she has been chosen. He had sensed this, but now he understood the true depth of the statement. Before she had been a doomed cause, one he had tried to hold hope for but had failed to save in the end. Now, though, she had survived something like he had, she had been brought to the edge and witnessed Ripred's realm before being drawn back again. Perhaps he could show her guidance like Ripred had done his whole life. Maybe she could help him to truly believe again. He steps forward, words finally reaching him. "Temple," as boring a start as any, but the simplicity might convey the value of his words, "give me a second chance to guide you as I failed to guide you before." He rests a hand against the lump in his pocket, trying to comfort the little form enough to draw the rat into the open. "Let me bestow upon you an echo of a gift given to me." Finally the young rat climbs into his palm, small nose twitching as he takes in all of the unfamiliar scents. "He will be a companion to you, and perhaps he will help you as my own rat helped me." His eyes hold something approaching affection as he looks at the two rats. There is only a slight shift away from this look at his eyes return to Temple's face. "He is yours." The rat is wary as the hand he sits on is extended towards the girl. He and the two rats almost hold their breath as they wait for Temple's reaction. This will set the tone of the future and show him whether he has simply a long way to go or an insurmountable distance. His gaze is steady on her, holding no expectation. The choice is yours, Temple Jones. | [attr="class","atvertical"]ansgar todd |
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