Bright Lights, Bigger City [Kale]
Jan 22, 2013 22:18:41 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2013 22:18:41 GMT -5
[/color] Perhaps it was the liquor in his veins, his lighthearted rebelliousness, or the itch to explore something new, but Benat made his way out into the hallway. He hoped that there might be something to distract him from his thoughts—if even for a little while.Benat Izar•••
And it may just be more of the same
But sometimes you wanna go where everyone knows your name
So I guess I'll have to wait and see
But I'm just gonna let something brand new happen to me
•••
They had been released for the day, and every bone in Benat’s body ached. He was quite sure that training was supposed to help improve his chances of winning the games, and not incapacitate him. This was the contradiction; the less he tried to exert himself or pay attention, the more he seemed to injure himself. He was the first to leave the training center—practically burst out of the double doors that led into the dining hall, not even stopping to look back if anyone was following him. He gobbled down everything within reach, not even pausing mid-burp, only shoveling more and more of whatever they’d laid out for them. It was better for him to get out of this place, and back to the living quarters. He had decided the less time he spent inside this dreadful place, the better. Nevermind the importance of making new friends, or studying the weaknesses of his competitors. They were all head and shoulders above Benat, anyway—why would he want to show them just how right they were?
He spent the next half-hour taking a hot shower, and wiped away the sweat and grime from his body. He’d face planted more times than he cared to count, and had nearly broken his back falling from the rope climbing exercise. He’d scalded his hands while trying to make a fire, and was pretty sure he’d heard snickering from others as he once again failed to hit a target with one of the throwing knives. They’d taken them away from him—or rather, told him practice something else—for fear of possibly impaling a fellow tribute. And so he relaxed in the shower, thinking only of the sights of the capitol, the technology at his fingertips, and just exactly what he was going to say during his interview. At least he could have some talent doing that. No thoughts on actually fighting, however—that could be saved until the very last moment.
He wandered the halls of his quarters, which seemed empty and devoid of anything other than the creepy avoxes. Benat didn’t care for them—he didn’t feel right being served by people who didn’t have tongues. There was something nasty about the whole business. He was much better used to doing things on his own, and taking care of his younger brothers. It was this thought that drove him to the liquor cabinet—of his little brothers running and laughing—causing Benat to grab at a carafe of whiskey. His first thought was to pour a glass, but, thinking better, simply drank right from it. He nearly spit out the first sip—it was entirely too strong for a young man like Benat. But the burn felt good, and he knew it would lend himself to clearer thinking later.
Belle was still absent, and truth be told Benat couldn’t be happier. Their adventure on the train had made him wary. He took another drink, thinking how empty this whole place seemed. There was so much empty space, and not enough people to fill it. This wasn’t like the little shack he and his family lived in, where they would pile cousins and aunts and uncles in for a family dinner. No, there was enough space for each and every person to feel as alone as they were supposed to. Benat took another long drink. Yep. As alone as they wanted to be, whether they liked it or not.
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