i m a g i n e a world like that [kaitlin/nico]

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ryan
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over the moon, where all the wild things are

i m a g i n e a world like that [kaitlin/nico] May 5, 2019 21:51:40 GMT -5

Post by ryan on May 5, 2019 21:51:40 GMT -5

It was over.

The 81st had wrapped up, which meant that Annie had finally been relieved on her duty as the doting victor who would watch the world burn as the games continued.

She never liked fire, an ironic notion because she had used fire every day that she could in the arena. She wasn’t afraid of it then, but now she wasn’t so sure.

After all, she could hear the ticks in her mind as she took steps in any direction. The scary part was when she didn’t know when she was going to go off.

An explosion that would produce a cloud of fire and brimstone that she could not contain no matter how much she tried.

She learned to compartmentalize it. Her games that is.

Most of the time she filed it away with the memories of her father, but it didn’t always stay down. After all, you couldn’t control water like that.

No matter how much Annie tried, a knife would turn into a blade. A puddle of water would turn red. Faces would have gashes deep in their cheeks. The smell of burnt flesh would never leave her nostrils.

She would always find herself back in the arena she came from.

But so would the rest of the tributes that went in with her as well.

It helped having Wander Sibley with her.

Ve kept her grounded enough to feel like she wouldn’t sink back into isolation. Of course, isolation was what came with being a victor, and while it pained her, it was something she had gotten used too. After all, all of her blood was gone by now, a family by choice was all she had, and Angel Mer was starting to distance himself from her.

At least, that is what she thought as she realized that he had been spending less and less time at the house.

She couldn’t blame him, well, she could, but she chose not too.

He was his own person, who lost the love of his life to the games two years before Annie’s.

Memories of him begging her to come home, that her leaving meant that there was a chance to lose another part of him.

And so she made sure she tried her hardest to do so.

Of course, she didn’t have hindsight.

Or foresight for that matter.

She wished should could turn back time.

A couple of days had passed.

Those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months in Annie’s mind.

She knew what was coming soon, the victor would be here soon, and that meant that she would have to welcome him to the district and congratulate him for making it out of the games alive.

However, there was no congratulations needed, because Annie was no welcoming committee. She would do nothing more than hand off the mantle. Something that she knew would affect them both, because while Annie could finally shed off the grief that followed here, it would attach itself to the new victor. That new victor would have to go on and live his life for the next year in the spotlight, and Annie could finally try to blend into the scenery, disappearing to a life of seclusion that she only had to be a part of for a couple days out of the year.

Oh how she would enjoy the silence.

The waves crashed against the sand and Annie took a deep breath as she waited for the time to come when she had to be present at the ceremony.

The sky met the sea, and she couldn’t help but be transported back to the cliffs of her arena, where an artificial sky met the artificial water. The smell, which was not like the ocean still wafted after all this time. She would never forget it after all.

She counted the seconds, turning her back to the water and walking with the escort that had come to get her. She wished she didn’t have to follow, but seeing as it was her first year, she had to behave. The last thing that she wanted was to fall on the capitol’s radar of being rebellious.

The last thing she wanted was to wind up somewhere she didn’t want to be after all.

She counted the steps to the city square, taking a seat and listening to all the people drown on and on about things that Annie personally did not care about. Seeing Berlin and Finley’s faces on the screen was hard for her, but she had made peace with the outcome. It happened, there was nothing more to it than that.

Of course, if they had gone in the year before, maybe they would be back in the arms of their families, but Annie knew that was never going to happen. Snow would never be that kind to the districts again.

From here on out, it was kill or be killed, and Annie had to remember that it was blessing that the tributes that went in with her came back out.

Nico Thorne would never be as lucky.

No victor would be.

Time passed, and Annie found herself at a function that was thrown in honor for Nico. Her district never wasted time trying to make a victor feel at home. No expense was spared, and it was just as lush as Annie’s function was last year.

She took a deep breath as she walked around, mingling with people that she did not care for, except for the Mayor who seemed to be on the same page as Annie. She was lucky this year, Berlin throwing himself into the fire before her own son could step forward. She realized that this party would end soon, but it would all begin for Nico.

Bookends they were after all.

Annie’s pain would end and Nico’s would begin. At least, that’s what she thought at the least.

She found Nico, people draped around him like he was on a throne of skulls. She walked up to him, and the moment she made her presence known, people began to scatter.

After all, she was the second most important person in the room.

”I hate these functions. Can barely breath with the amount of people in here.” Annie spoke lightly, finishing off the flute of champagne in her hand and placing it on a table that was adjacent to where they were standing.

”How are you doing Nico?” Annie asked, her arms crossed as she shifted the weight off of her right foot and onto her left.

There was so much that Annie wanted to say, but this was not the place to say it. Too many people, not enough silence.

Annie’s mind fell somewhere in that wavelength as well.

So she stood there, waiting for one titan to speak to the other in a coded speak that neither of them would probably ever understand.

Not until they could see eye to eye.

gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.
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aspiring beam of light

i m a g i n e a world like that [kaitlin/nico] May 18, 2019 14:32:31 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on May 18, 2019 14:32:31 GMT -5

The world's a blur.

There should probably be some shame in that, some part of Nico that wants to crawl back into the light, a part of him that should know by now that it's always better to be in control. But then—Fuck you, Nico Thorne, echoes through the back of his skull, and Nico remembers that he is not the good guy.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Diana Sayers in a world on fire, the sun bright and burning behind the both of them, casting the entire arena into a technicolor of reds and oranges. He remembers wielding those flames himself, shoving them through her neck and down into the ground until Diana was pinned in place.

I'm the king now.

They were cruel last words for her to hear; there were just as cruel as the things that she had been saying to him, he knows this, rationally, but there is still the ghost of what her last moments looked like haunting his every waking moment, and a part of him regrets that he didn't show her kindness. He wonders, frequently, heartbrokenly, what Franics would think about that kill. Would he be proud that his boy had won? Would he be glad that Nico had struck down so completely a girl that had dared to spit such things at Nico? Would he be disappointed that Nico succumbed, in a new way, to the darkness in his own heart?

Nico doesn't have an answer.

And that hurts worse.

District Four is worse than he had, perhaps, thought that it would be. He had stood on that stage and heralded the Capitol just like he had been told to do, read from the script like he was directed, and then he had stumbled backward and into himself, into his heart, had wanted to give up and give in. He didn't, knows that he never will and that if he did he would never forgive himself for wasting the life that Francis had blessed him with. But Berlin Batalanto's face had been right there.

And Nico felt sick.

So he's drunker than usual, looking far more relaxed than he truly felt, than he thinks he will ever truly feel again. Four had a quality to it that Nico had never felt before, a kind of relaxed quality that none of the other districts thus far had, but there was a wealth to it that Nico would never be able to fully understand. Even the Victor's Village back home couldn't hold a candle to some of the places that he had been taken today, and certainly didn't hold a candle to the home he was in currently.

He's not sure whose house it is—maybe the mayors?

He not sure.

He certainly doesn't care.

At least, he didn't. There was a girl curled around him, not that he has much interest in her, but she keeps smiling at him like he hung the moon in the sky and there's something almost as addictive about that as there is about the drink that she keeps pouring more of into his glass. And the others, they all just talked around him. They hardly ever asked him anything, barely bothered to try and learn about his life—he was an ornament here, a pretty new toy for them to play with, and as long as he stayed quiet, they might just let him hide.

But then—Anatalia Morrisen shows up, and the crowd scatters, leaving only the girl curled into him as she traces his cheekbone with the tip of her finger. "I hate these functions. Can barely breath with the amount of people in here.” The Victor says, and finally the girl on his lap looks over at her, a dash of impatience in her eyes until she realizes who it is that's approached the victor beneath her. She glances back at Nico, as if asking for permission to leave, as though Nico has any real interest in whether or not she stays.

Though, he thinks he'd probably prefer this girl to the killer standing in front of him.

"How are you doing Nico?” she asks, and Nico takes a deep breath in before tapping the other girl's waist, a signal that yes, really, it's time for her to go.

He knows that she's trying to be nice, that she's probably just trying to make him feel welcome in her home, but there's a wave of hollow anger echoing in Nico's chest that he hadn't even realized he felt until this moment.

"I've been worse," he says, sucking the hollow of his cheek in slightly as he tries to make sure he doesn't say something too cruel, something that he might not be able to take back later if he needs. "Also been better."

He breathes for a moment, considering the deep end.

Then he dives.

"I'd bet not better than you, though," he says, voice too hollow even in his own ears. "Fate didn't make me kill anyone and then say 'sike, changed my mind.'"

Last Edit: Jun 2, 2019 16:52:45 GMT -5 by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.

what are men to rocks and mountains?

a haunted house.

ryan
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over the moon, where all the wild things are

i m a g i n e a world like that [kaitlin/nico] Aug 11, 2019 5:23:06 GMT -5

Post by ryan on Aug 11, 2019 5:23:06 GMT -5

Parties were never something that Annie wanted to attend. To be honest, she always found more comfort in trying to party by herself, because then she didn’t have to deal with other people trying to force their influence on her. Her definition of a party was maybe a day at the ocean with a small bottle of wine, mostly switched out to some sort of sparkling cider because she truly was trying to cut back on her alcohol consumption.

There was nothing easy about being a victor, and so her alone time was what she yearned for. So many people had expected her to do amazing things in the wake of her victory, but Annie wanted none of it. She just wanted a quiet life, and now that there was a new victor crowned, maybe she could find that.

However that wasn’t here. The debauchery was around and live, and Annie couldn’t do anything about it. It was out of her control, and the capitol of course, spared no expense. It wasn’t her choice, even though she was the reigning victor of four. They didn’t care about her after a new victor was crowned. They would do the bare minimum to take care of her, and that would be it. Well, until they needed something else from her.

Annie hoped that day would never come.

Being able to breath was something that didn’t happen often for her. Most of the time, when she tried to have a moment to herself, she was thrusted into whatever war the capitol was raging, and even simple things became cumbersome. Eating food, talking to loved ones, and hell, even sitting by the ocean, all became hard to do when the capitol was trying to find a way to turn it all upside down.

There were objectives to everything here now a days, and Annie was expected to just go along with it. However, after a year had passed, Annie was no longer willing to be subservient to the agenda the capitol was trying to push. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind after all, and if that meant she had to stand in the way of a moving train, she would.

They could threaten her well-being, tell her that she will face the consequences, hurt her father, or even worse, and Annie would still find her resolve in stubbornness. After all, the games had already cracked her, she would never be well again, her father would be the last person that she would miss on this planet, and realistically, there is nothing worse than the legacy that followed her out of her games.

She thought the capitol couldn’t top that after all.

Standing there in front of Nico, she realized that there was layers behind the rough exterior, just like she had when she got out of her games.

Annie was never the type of person to judge someone since she stole the crown in the eightieth. Especially with someone that had gone through what she had. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t show concern just like the other victors had done for her. However, most victors would never have to experience the people they killed going on to live another day. It was something that she didn’t even expect. All she could remember was the utter rage that she felt against Glamour the moment that he revealed the quell twist to her. She wanted to scream. She wished she could have taken a knife to his throat. But the moment the words left his lips, she faded to black.

And woke up with more than enough trauma.

Nico made it very clear where he stood. The girl disappeared. His legs shifted from side to side for a moment before making clear eye contact with her. He was sizing her up, an admirable trait for sure, but not one that Annie wasn’t able to see right through. The difference was, between these two at the least, was that there was this preconceived notion that Annie wanted to go into the games. That she wanted to win, and she wanted the fame.

And at first, she did. However, not for selfish reasons. Or maybe they were selfish and she kept telling herself differently?

She didn’t know, even after all this time had passed, and she had a whole life time to figure it out. She knew that much. Just like Nico did, just like the next victor would and so on. They would fall into oblivion with this in mind, and the only way for them to crawl out of it would be to admit that they would never be alright again.

And Annie was learning to slowly accept that, even if the people who went into the games with her had found their way out as well. None of it made a difference to her.

But it did to Nico.

"I'd bet not better than you, though,"

”Mhmm…” Annie waited for the caveat.

"Fate didn't make me kill anyone and then say 'sike, changed my mind.'" There it was.

Annie sighed before looking Nico up and down. ”Don’t compare my experience to yours Nico Thorne.” Annie was crisp in her words. ”They are like two snowflakes, two sunflowers, they will never be the same.” She wasn’t usually into metaphors, but she did watch his games close enough to get a sense of what was going on in there.

”At least you don’t have walking reminders of what you did out and about around Panem now do you?” Annie was quick to throw the sass right back in his face. ”Is this the part where you now berate me? Tell me that I don’t know what you have been through?” Annie kept going, like it was time to just let it all out. ”Cause guess what buddy, you don’t know what I’ve been through either.” Annie crossed her arms and shifted the weight of her heels from side to side.

”But I would like to know, and I’m willing to share my scars too.” Annie looked out the window they were near. ”Just drop the façade. Theres no use hiding behind cellophane. We all can see right through it.”