Can't Undo the Scars [Fiona/Oliver]

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kap
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Can't Undo the Scars [Fiona/Oliver] Oct 28, 2019 13:30:20 GMT -5

Post by kap on Oct 28, 2019 13:30:20 GMT -5

[googlefont="Merienda:400"]Oliver Wren
Visiting other Districts on a work permit turned out to have been a way for me to meet up with my former allies from the arena. That wasn't my initial goal with this travel, but after meeting both Faux and Carmen in Eleven, I was hoping that, during my time in Nine, I would come across Fiona. Today was the day after the reaping for the Eighty-Third Annual Hunger Games, when I arrived in District Nine. There was clearly a lot of tension in the air. That was something that I noticed as I got off of the train from Eight to arrive in Nine. People seemed anxious and uncomfortable. There was certainly a sense of unease among the people.

After I'd finished doing the work that I had come to District Nine specifically to do, I was quite tired, but still determined to find Fiona. Surely someone in this District would know where Fiona was. The tributes of the Eightieth Games were recognized by pretty much everyone in their Districts, and in my own personal experience, sometimes, even strangers knew what the tributes were up to and where they happened to be at any given time. I'd even had strangers come knocking at my door after somehow having figured out where I lived.

Maybe I could make use of a stranger's knowledge and show up at Fiona's door. I had a gift for her with me, hoping that I'd encounter her while here so that I could give it to her. I missed Fiona, and I truly hoped she was doing well. Then again, it was really difficult to be doing well when you were one of the resurrected tributes from the Eightieth Games. It was a quell twist that those not involved thought was a blessing. For those of us that were involved, however, it was a both a blessing and a curse. For some of us, it was more of one of those things than the other.

I suppose it depended on what you had to come home to.

I knew Fiona didn't have much to come home to after the Games. From what I'd heard, her grandfather died when she was reaped, and she was basically alone without him. It made me really wonder how well she was doing. Was she hanging in there alright? I really should have been keeping in touch with her better. That was something that I would make a point to do after today, should I actually have the opportunity to find and speak with her.

We really needed to catch up. I missed Fiona quite a bit. I hadn't been keeping in touch with any of the tributes after the Games, really. Not even Sable, who lives in the same District that I do, back home in Eight. I suppose that that's something I could work on changing.

It took quite a bit of walking about and asking around, but eventually, I was told where Fiona lived. I managed to make my way there, as it luckily wasn't too far from the part of District Nine that I was in. When I arrived at her home, I knocked on the door. The door opened, and standing there was a young man.

"Hey," I said to him. "Is Fiona in?"

The young man nodded a 'yes' to me in response.

"Do you mind telling her that Oliver's here to see her?" I asked of him. The individual I was speaking to seemed to freeze when I said this.

"Oliver?" he asked. "Oliver Wren?"

I nodded in response.

"Yes, sir," I confirmed. Then, he nodded again.

"I'll get her for you," he said to me. "One moment."

He looked over his shoulder and shouted for Fiona to come to the door.

"Fi, someone's here to see you. 'e says he's Oliver Wren."

I then waited patiently for Fiona to come to the door.

word count: 635
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Can't Undo the Scars [Fiona/Oliver] Oct 30, 2019 17:36:24 GMT -5

Post by * on Oct 30, 2019 17:36:24 GMT -5

[googlefont="Merienda:400"]Fiona Zachariah
Yesterday had been one of the worst days of my life despite going into the games. I thought I would have died and that would have been just that. I never expected to come back to the district, especially not being a victor. It was the girl from district four that had taken that spot but we all had to deal with a different kind of a death. Our souls were tainted and our minds damaged. Our bodies even held scars and reminders that the games happened and the capitol held over our heads the reminder that at any time we could be reaped yet again. My last turn was last year, but my fiance, the reasons for me to live, had almost been taken yesterday.

Hearing his name be shouted among the district caused the anxiety and memories to escape and come flooding to the surface that I'd tried to hide for the past few years.

An angel stepped forward disguised as an uncaring teen to take his place. His name was Fangor and he allowed the charm my grandfather gave me to be his token and his token exchanged hands with me. His token sat behind a glass cabinet, saved until he returns.

I owe him more then my own life. He gave me Fable back.

Even as the night came about, the video's of the reaped played through the tv's in the districts. The damaged set that had a line through it was still good but old that sat in my living room. Fable hasn't left my side since the moment we got home. His voice is also absent, devoid of any conversation. I suspect he's still in shock. I understand that feeling. I'm afraid to say that I couldn't leave his side, for my own sanity, lest he disappear and that this was all a mirage.

Names were issued through the first three districts and then as they continued on, I held my breath. Only a few remained to be put back into the reaping. The last two years had called a single tribute and somehow, someone was able to take his spot. I remember his face and his sister, but that didn't mean that what I did in the arena was behind me. Larceny was a gifted child and I could only imagine if my name had been called after dealing with that hell. This year, as the district four escort reached into the bowl, I swear I thought I heard that name.

"Wander..." I looked to Fable. My eyes grew with hatred and my heart pounded into my ear. How could they do that to us again? How could the very people that already endured the games becalled again for the third time in a row? My stomach dropped and I found myself out of Fables grasp only to race to the bathroom. My stomach churned and sweat began to bead on my forhead.

"Wander... no. Wander..." My chest grew heavy without a breath. Tears poured from my eyes and the bathroom became my safety. Darkness ruled over my eyes until a few minutes later when Fable's face was in front of me, his hand on my cheek. Only then did I realize I had lost myself.

"Fable... it can't be. Not again. Not another one." With a voice so solemn, catching my barring, I leaned into his chest and allowed him to coddle me until I had calmed down.

The rest of the night, I wrapped my arms around him, terrified to let him go. Too scared to sleep for if this was just a dream, I'd wake and he'd be dead in the arena. I wouldn't let the capitol take him no matter what.

As the darkness started to bring in light through the window, I looked behind me just to make sure he was still actually there. I smiled. My fiancé was officially safe and it was the day after the reaping and he was still here. He was still mine and now the thoughts of a wedding seemed like such a promising thing that even though tears had stained my eyes, I grinned with hope. "I love you so much Fable."

I kissed his cheek. I pulled out of his arms to relieve myself in the restroom and before I could wash my hands, a knock came to the door. My mind rattled with reasons for a visitor. Opening the door, I saw my neighbor and her eyes told me immediately something was wrong. The conversation ended shortly after and even though my eyes didn't pour with sorrow, my heart seemed to carry such a heavy burden that when the door closed, I slid down and curled up.

Fable's bedhead was something that I usually love to see on him. My hands would ruffle his hair and then a kiss to grace his lips, but as I heard him walking through the house, descending the stairs, I couldn't muster the courage to look at him. His pace quickened though and his hand comforted my shoulder.

"Hey Love, do you need to talk about something? You're worrying me." I nod with little expectations that I would actually speak, but I couldn't look at Fable.

"He's dead. Max is dead, Fable. They found him this morning and I just..." I find myself falling into his comforting embrace. His arms seem to put me into a wonderous place of comfort. Minutes pass and when I feel like I can handle the world, I move with his help and take the oversized chair in the corner with just him and I.

"Fi, I'm so sorry..." His condolences come off to me with sincerity but could I mourn someone who was lost to me from the moment our names were reaped? What Carter uttered in my face in the holding cell. The silence I endured because he held a grudge. Our fight that caused this whole rift. Was it party my fault?

The day wasted away. No appetite to eat meant that the chair was my bed. I found that after the night of insomnia, the exhaustion played heavily into the hours that turned to an early afternoon.

As I slumbered, a knock came to the door again, but in the midst of a pleasant dream, I somehow heard the conversation as if I was in a wakeful state. I stirred a moment later when Fable touched my arm and I stretched the muscles aching. "What's going on, babe?"

"Fi, someone's here to see you. 'e says he's Oliver Wren."

Oliver Wren.

Oliver Wren...

Who was Oliver Wr...

The name bounced in my half unconscious mind before realizing who it was, but how could he be here. He wasn't from this district at all. I step lightly, shielding my eyes to the sunshine outside to see him standing there in all his glory and like a face that never ages. I have to still be dreaming.

"Oliver..." Wasted time had been spent for three years and staying in touch with the other eightieth tributes was quite complicated, but his betrayal stung first, before I longed to have that connection again. "Oliver!"

I barrel out through the door, wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling so much ease coming to me all of a sudden. The first twenty four hours from the reaping had been the most absolute worst and best. How can someone deal with so many life issues in such a short time?

"It's really good to see you. I'm sorry - I never kept in touch." I break the embrace and turn to look at Fable. "He was my ally..."

word count: 1273
table by kaplan

kap
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Can't Undo the Scars [Fiona/Oliver] Oct 31, 2019 14:09:48 GMT -5

Post by kap on Oct 31, 2019 14:09:48 GMT -5

[googlefont="Merienda:400"]Oliver Wren
The reaping was yesterday, and right after it concluded, I was on the train to come to District Nine for the work that I needed to get done. On the train, I had watched the recaps of the reapings for each of the twelve districts.

District One. Ridley Le Roux was the girl who was called, and it took me a moment to realize why I knew her name. Or, at least, why I knew her surname, that is. She was a relative of some sort of a tribute from the first ever Hunger Games, Malachai Le Roux. I know that there are plenty of people my age who couldn't care less about the history of the Games, and never looked into things like the names of First Games tributes, but I was named after one, so it felt necessary to read up on them all the best that I could.

I was named after Oliver Vos of District Nine. He was the best placing male tribute of the First Hunger Games, dying at the hands of the first ever victor, Adder Ames. Overall, he'd placed second in the Games, and although I despise the Games and just about every single thing that they entail, something I'll reluctantly admit is that I feel quite special to have that be where my name came from. I may not have any direct relatives that I know of who were in the First Games, but maybe this is a better relation to have. Just a namesake.

The other District One tribute was a volunteer whose name, I'll admit, slipped my mind as soon as the reaping recaps moved onto District Two. District Two's tributes were a girl whose name was called with no one taking her place, and a boy who volunteered with a legacy of a last name- a Hammerfell.

To my relief, District Three did not contain Larceny Theft this year, or any Thefts for that matter. The girl was a volunteer with a name that stood out to me- Charisma Duke. I'm not quite sure why that name stood out to me, but it did. Perhaps it was just the fact that I liked the sound of it, but regardless, I wouldn't be forgetting that name any time soon. The boy's name also started with a 'C', and was Curtus something. He, however, was not a volunteer.

My heart dropped with District Four, at least at first.

Wander Sibley. That was the first name that was called, and it made me yell out a 'no!' and I would've shot up from my chair at the same time if it weren't for my bad knee. To my relief, however, a girl with the name of Bell Hailsham took the spot instead. I'd make a point to remember her name. I didn't know Wander well, but it didn't matter. Wander would be safe now, thanks to Bell Hailsham.

The next name called in Four was that of a Krearns. Although, another individual with the name of Hailsham stepped up in his place. I wasn't sure if these Hailsham folk were being heroic or reckless, or perhaps a mixture of both, but I wouldn't be forgetting them anytime soon.

Five, Six and Seven went by in a bit of a blur. What I did recall from those reapings, however, was the lack of volunteers in Five, which was the first District so far not to have any volunteers. Six and Seven continued with the trend, however, having one volunteer each. Then, it was onto my home District, District Eight.

Laurel Rasoio and Reyes Calvo. They were both volunteers, and the tributes for District Eight this year. I'd learned the hard way right after the reaping for the Eighty-First, however, not to get involved in their lives. I'd visited the District Eight tributes in the Justice Building that year, and one of the visits didn't go so well. Stanley Schuster wasn't a fan of me. Damaris Hope didn't seem to mind me as much, but I still wasn't welcomed with open arms.

That was why, this year, I stayed quiet again like I had for the Eighty-Second. I didn't go visit them. I didn't let myself get acquainted with them, and it was probably for the best. After all, the little bit I had gotten to know Damaris Hope had caused me to be quite heavily affected by her death. I was even affected a little bit by Stanley's death, too. I suppose even the slightest bit of interaction with one of the tributes caused me to grow to attached.

District Nine was next. The first name that was called was Slate Rothul. For some reason, as she strode to the stage, I knew that I wouldn't be forgetting her name, either. Then, the boy's name was called. Fable Adric was the name. It was a name I didn't know, but I suppose I didn't have to, as a boy called Fangor took his place.

Ten contained names that blurred in my memory, and I could only remember the girl's name in Eleven after their reaping concluded and moved onto Twelve- she was a Rhodes. Prismarine Cobble of Twelve made a point to tell everyone who she was at the reaping, and Reggie Blume stood on the stage beside her.

When I'd finally arrived in Nine, my mind was swirling with all that I had just watched.

Now, as I stood at Fiona's door, waiting for her to come and greet me, my mind started swirling with images of the reapings again, and I realized something. This boy who'd come to the door looked familiar. Now, I finally placed it in my mind as to why. He was Fable Adric. He was the boy selected for District Nine at the reaping. Fangor Redtail had taken his place, sparing him from the horrors of the Games.

As Fiona emerged from her front door, shielding her eyes from the sun, I realized that there must be some sort of connection between she and Fable. She says my name, not as emphasized at first, but more enthusiastically the second time. She barrels towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck in a hugging embrace. I nearly fall over when she does this, as my crutch that I walk with starts to shift out from under my arm with the force of her hug.

When she releases me, she speaks to me.

"It's really good to see you. I'm sorry - I never kept in touch," she says to me. Then, she turns to the boy I've concluded is Fable.

"He was my ally..." she says to Fable, referring to me. Fable's response was him simply nodding in a way that makes me think that he was aware of this.

"I haven't been keeping in touch, either, so that's my fault, too," I say to Fiona. "We'll just have to be better about that," I say with a smile. "It's great to see you."

I shifted on my crutch, adjusting it so as to stand better.

"I realize this probably wasn't the best day to visit, but I'm here in Nine on a work permit, so I wanted to see you while I had the time… I hope that's okay," I explained to her.