mercury's metal — areto & avriel

a v r i e l .

"Sunlight lift me up
Tell me I'm enough
You know that they leave so soon
Just like you"

He doesn't go back to the ninth floor after his interview, the air in the training centre is too tight and all he's wanted all week is a breath of fresh air. So when Avriel stands in the elevator and sees the 'R' for roof, he jabs that instead. He wonders why that's even allowed until he steps off the elevator and sees the black box resting on the wall. He doesn't even have to look inside to know that it's probably housing the same tech that keeps tributes contained inside the arena.

The roof is protected by a shield. If he even wanted to try and jump off, he'd hit a transparent wall. It's smart but he wonders just who had made that necessary and why he hasn't heard of them.

The roof is empty but for some lawn chairs and a row of planters. It's generous, kind of thoughtful really and Avriel would maybe feel relaxed if he wasn't literally sitting in the middle of the lion's den. All the finery this week hasn't been enough to distract him from that fact. This place, this oasis meant to be a final luxury before their great sacrifice, is just the chute leading into a slaughterhouse.

Maybe this is their last sunset, their last pretty distraction before the barrel of the gun is pressed against their heads.

He leans back on cement tiles and watches the sun dip behind the first of the high-rises. He's never been up so high in his life, probably never will be again. Avriel thought it'd be scary but up here, the world seems so far away and unimportant, it's peaceful.

His eyes are shut, chin tipped back to catch the last warm rays when the elevator doors open with a soft ding. He opens his eyes, catching a glimpse of that wild girl from Four, the one from a remote island.

Areto.

He doesn't trust careers no matter where they hail from but so far, of the one's he's met, he's found them surprisingly human. There's something about Julian that still puts his body on edge, sending heat through him unbidden like a forest fire, but Areto seems quiet, sort of like the forboding before a storm.

"You don't have to go," he says after a moment, "It'd suck to miss this." He gestures at the sunset, radiant and burning in shades of gold and reds. Avriel nods his head towards the seating.

"Relax, Four."