bleeding shadows / ridley day 2 reaction
Jun 26, 2020 23:28:17 GMT -5
Post by Stare on Jun 26, 2020 23:28:17 GMT -5
By some miracle, Ridley was alone when it happened.
After Colgate's reaction to the girl from Nine's demise in the morning, Ridley had promptly stood, grabbed one of the bottles of champagne, and gone back to her room to screen the rest of the Games day in private. No one wanted to be so obvious as to watch for her reaction - some of the Victors knew how she felt, had already lost what she stood to lose - but even in the presence of the people who had begun to feel more like family to her than the Le Rouxes ever had, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being monitored, judged, tested.
She'd downed three quarters of the bottle and was about to take another swig when the mutt slit Emmett's throat open.
Ridley choked. The carbonation burned in her throat, against the roof of her mouth, and distantly she heard the rest of the bottle shattering against the floor. Two lives. That was the "gift" the tributes had been granted in the Arena that year. A second chance. But she had hoped that Emmett would never have to face an end in any form in the Games. She'd wanted him to fight tooth and nail and emerge damaged and hurt and haunted but having avoided Death's touch. Just like her. The Capitol would have cooed about family resemblance and for once, Ridley wouldn't have even cared.
But that dream was slip-sliding through her fingers like blood as she watched his corpse float in the water.
Ridley knew Death. She'd just barely escaped its grasp in the Arena, had felt it even before that as it came at her from her father's own hands. But staring at the screen she felt a sudden certainty that this, this horrific angry shattering sensation, was what it felt like to die.
If any of you want to try to show me up, please be my guest.
She stood on unsteady legs, hating the fact that her family wasn't there to mourn with her, hating the fact that they wouldn't have let her join them even if she had been back in One, but mostly hating herself for not being good enough to keep Emmmett Le Roux safe.
And then Ridley did something she hadn't done since Delaney.
She sank to the floor, shards of glass slicing into her knees, ran her golden hand over her face, and let the angry tears roll down her face.
That night, Ridley found her way into one of the Capitol's unlit alleyways.
It hadn't taken her long to hunt down her kind of people in Panem's shimmering city. All empires were built on corruption and corpses and broken promises, and the Capitol was no exception. Beneath every facade of gold was a rotten core. Ridley had always had a special talent for finding it.
Takes one to know one, darling.
The woman that she met had sharp features and magenta eyes. Ridley didn't waste time. "Do you have the names?"
The woman narrowed her eyes at her before pulling out a sheet of crumbled paper that had been haphazardly scribbled all over. "These are the people that can get you what you need."
Ridley hummed, eyeing some of the names thoughtfully. "How soon can I begin negotiations?"
The woman's eyes cut into her. "As soon as you want. But these aren't charities, Reaper. You'll pay a steep price for the kind of favors you're looking for." The woman tilted her head. "What exactly are you willing to give them?"
Ridley thought of her list of names, the kingdom that she'd constructed out of debts owed and favors granted. She thought of all the power she held, all the protection she'd built around herself. She thought about how ruby red the blood had looked against Emmett's skin.
How are you feeling?
Like I’m about to die. Like I'm going to let everyone down.
Her jaw set.
"Anything. Whatever the hell it takes."
After Colgate's reaction to the girl from Nine's demise in the morning, Ridley had promptly stood, grabbed one of the bottles of champagne, and gone back to her room to screen the rest of the Games day in private. No one wanted to be so obvious as to watch for her reaction - some of the Victors knew how she felt, had already lost what she stood to lose - but even in the presence of the people who had begun to feel more like family to her than the Le Rouxes ever had, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being monitored, judged, tested.
She'd downed three quarters of the bottle and was about to take another swig when the mutt slit Emmett's throat open.
Ridley choked. The carbonation burned in her throat, against the roof of her mouth, and distantly she heard the rest of the bottle shattering against the floor. Two lives. That was the "gift" the tributes had been granted in the Arena that year. A second chance. But she had hoped that Emmett would never have to face an end in any form in the Games. She'd wanted him to fight tooth and nail and emerge damaged and hurt and haunted but having avoided Death's touch. Just like her. The Capitol would have cooed about family resemblance and for once, Ridley wouldn't have even cared.
But that dream was slip-sliding through her fingers like blood as she watched his corpse float in the water.
Ridley knew Death. She'd just barely escaped its grasp in the Arena, had felt it even before that as it came at her from her father's own hands. But staring at the screen she felt a sudden certainty that this, this horrific angry shattering sensation, was what it felt like to die.
If any of you want to try to show me up, please be my guest.
She stood on unsteady legs, hating the fact that her family wasn't there to mourn with her, hating the fact that they wouldn't have let her join them even if she had been back in One, but mostly hating herself for not being good enough to keep Emmmett Le Roux safe.
And then Ridley did something she hadn't done since Delaney.
She sank to the floor, shards of glass slicing into her knees, ran her golden hand over her face, and let the angry tears roll down her face.
-
That night, Ridley found her way into one of the Capitol's unlit alleyways.
It hadn't taken her long to hunt down her kind of people in Panem's shimmering city. All empires were built on corruption and corpses and broken promises, and the Capitol was no exception. Beneath every facade of gold was a rotten core. Ridley had always had a special talent for finding it.
The woman that she met had sharp features and magenta eyes. Ridley didn't waste time. "Do you have the names?"
The woman narrowed her eyes at her before pulling out a sheet of crumbled paper that had been haphazardly scribbled all over. "These are the people that can get you what you need."
Ridley hummed, eyeing some of the names thoughtfully. "How soon can I begin negotiations?"
The woman's eyes cut into her. "As soon as you want. But these aren't charities, Reaper. You'll pay a steep price for the kind of favors you're looking for." The woman tilted her head. "What exactly are you willing to give them?"
Ridley thought of her list of names, the kingdom that she'd constructed out of debts owed and favors granted. She thought of all the power she held, all the protection she'd built around herself. She thought about how ruby red the blood had looked against Emmett's skin.
How are you feeling?
Like I’m about to die. Like I'm going to let everyone down.
Her jaw set.
"Anything. Whatever the hell it takes."
