//SUNSET//open

[CC is SO Sorry D:]

Airelynn Hathor

The day was cool and breezy, and Airelynn Hathor knew that winter would soon come to District Eight. The thought gave Airelynn mixed feelings. She needed work, to keep her family's home, but in the winter, she had more time to paint and create blankets and other cotton products with dyes. It was something she did to pass her time in the winter. She enjoyed the cold, because it caused a certain amount of discomfort, but her family didn't. Perhaps if she gave Garrett a warm blanket, he would feel more inclined to be pleasant towards her.

Airelynn stood up silently in the golden rows of fields, that seemed to extend forever, stretching out her back. She had been bending over all day, and her muscles felt sore. She reveled in the feeling, but if she let herself become too stiff, she could just collapse, and then the Peacekeepers would beat her.

It was that she was particularly adverse to a whipping (she actually felt a small thrill go down her spine at the thought), but if she was too badly injured, she wouldn't be able to work for days, and her family would lose their house. In that event, her father would most likely walk off, and she would no longer have anyone to hit her. Airelynn knew that should lift her spirits, but she only felt a sense of dread. She deserved the pain. Openly welcomed it, in fact. She couldn't imagine giving it up. It would be like trying to live without air. Impossible.

She went back to her work, mindlessly picking cotton. It didn't require any thought, not after all of these years, but it was still exhausting and somewhat difficult work. Her muscles strained, and sweat formed on her dry skin as she worked. There was still an hour or so until sunset, when she finished working, and she planned on tiring her body out as much as possible today. Perhaps she really would faint today, after work. It depended on whether her father was very drunk today.

She thought about her bruises from last night. He rarely beat her two nights in a row. She loved when he did, because her skin became blotchy and covered with blood and blisters, but there was a chance. She hoped. If she was lucky.

But really, what were the chances of her getting lucky today? She hadn't had the best life, there was no denying that. Her entire family hated her. (Although, that could be considered as more abuse, which Airelynn wasn't entirely opposed to. It was just the fact that it was mental, not physical, so it wasn't as thrilling.) She had almost been found out earlier, too. Another field worker had bumped into her bruises, and Airelynn had let out a gasp (of pain or delight she couldn't tell; they were pretty synonymous these days) and flinched. The lady had looked at her suspiciously before she moved on. Yes, her secret would have to be more carefully watched. She couldn't have it getting out. What if someone tried to stop it? What would she do?

She would deny it, sure, but there was physical evidence, and there wasn't much she could do to conceal it if the Peacekeepers and other officials demanded to know. The Peacekeepers probably didn't even care, but Airelynn knew that it was a part of their job to keep the peace, and her father could be considered a "threat to society". He would be thrown into prison or killed for sure. She couldn't have that happening.

Without her father, her mother would most likely feel more depressed and apathetic. Agalynn wasn't doing any better, and Airelynn knew her little sister needed both her mother and elder brother to assist her. Agalynn's lucid moments were growing fewer and farther between, and she probably needed help. Airelynn wasn't allowed within ten feet of her sister (it caused Agalynn to have nervous breakdowns), but she had heard her sister. She had been muttering about string and boxes again, and she had cried herself to sleep every night.

Airelynn watched the sun sink closer to the horizon as she finished up with her last few minutes of work. The sky was a brilliant mix of oranges, pinks, purples, and blues in the east. As she looked at the Sun, she felt water pricking eyes from staring at the light for too long. She continued for a few more seconds before turning away, stars in her eyes, and a dizzying sensation in her head. She blinked a lot really quickly, turning back to her work until she was told she could leave.

She shuffled out of the fields, and walked into the streets of District Eight. It was true, most of her district was rural and full of fields of cotton and pastures and meadows for the sheep. Still, they had a town full of her district's people selling their wares outside their homes and at the town square. The scent from the baker's shop wafted in her direction, and she walked closer to the baking bread, refusing to buy anything to eat as she tortured herself with the smells. Bliss.

Airelynn had to walk through the square before she got to her home, which was far from the fields, on the opposite side of town, but before she could walk more than a few steps out of the square, she was tripped by a random passerby, who continued on their way, and landed violently on her bruises. A loud, slow groan escaped her mouth as she lay crumpled on the ground, feeling utterly exhausted and strangely delighted.

ooc: Average to advanced roleplayer, please. Airelynn's pretty complex.

[Eastern Orange]

Berkley had to fight tooth and nail to get his mother to let him out of the house. He begged, pleaded, and made all sorts of promises, which is very degrading for a young man his age. His mother had finally consented after making all sorts of rules, and telling 'be a good boy, and don't get drunk or anyone pregnant.'

Berkley had long tolerated his mother’s tyrannical rule over his life, but as of late he was feeling more and more rebellious. The hugs that were once loving, now felt smothering. The time he spent cooking with his mother, once enjoyable, was now something that he dreaded. Berkley was growing up. As much as his mother had tried to hold him back, and make him a man-child, Berkley was finding his way into manhood.

His ranch was five miles outside of town, a good hour to an hour and a half walk, depending. Berkley flirted with the idea of riding a horse into town to maximize his time, but decided against it. It would definitely give off the wrong impression. People would think that he was mocking them or something.

As soon as the smells and sounds of the ranch faded in the distance, Berkley felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Or more accurately, it felt like his mother’s influence, that always hung over him like a dead thing, had reached its boundaries and had slunk back to the ranch to wait for his return. He was free for a day!

The last time he had been into town it was reaping day. It was always awkward to stand among his peers on reaping day. It felt as if he didn’t belong, and he didn’t. They were starving, and had to enter their names multiple times for extra food. His mother always shoved his face with food, and never had his name entered more then once. He never shared in their sadness when one of their friends got picked.

Anyway, one could hardly call reaping day a day of freedom. In fact, wasn’t it the opposite of that? Reaping day was there to remind the Districts of who was in charge. But to Berkley, the Capitol was just some far away place that had little to do with them. His world barely passed the property of the ranch, let alone the District. To him, his mother was the supreme authority in his life. Well, she had been. Berkley was changing that.

Berkley found himself on the fringes of town. He looked around, surprised that he had made it in what felt like no time. He had zoned out a while back, his brain lulled into a day dream but the soothing monotony of the leisurely walk. It took him a second to get his thoughts together before continuing on his way.

He stuck out like a donkey in a horse show. His clothes, washed and brightly colored, greatly contrasted the torn and muddy clothing of the poorer people of the District. It got better the closer he got to the square. More people were dressed in colors, and their clothes were cleaner, but it was clear he was the son of Trestle Ichabod, owner of Ichabod Ranch, the wealthiest in the District.

Some of the denizens looked upon him in envy, their eyes lingering over his fresh, warm clothes. But a few shoot him dirty looks, like he was there to rub their misery in their faces. This was not helping Berkley open himself up to the outside world. He grew up being told that people were out for themselves, and that anyone would stab their own family in the back to gain something for themselves. This of course was his mother’s philosophy. But after seeing so many kids cycle through jobs on his ranch, working hard to feed their family, he thought that her reasoning might be flawed. That was the start of his dissent.

He made it to the square. Many people walked brusquely between stores, stopping here and there to gossip with friends. Berkley watched them with curious eyes, wanting to learn to speak with as much ease as them. Having been home schooled, he never did learn how to relate with others, or even talk to them. He didn’t understand the complex lives of the people around him. He was simply naïve.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone knock a girl over. He waited to see if the person would stop and help the girl up, but they kept going. He briefly mused over whether that was proper behavior, but quickly decided that it wasn’t. He made his way over to the fallen girl after she didn’t immediately pick herself up.

He hovered over her, not knowing what to do. ‘Come on! This shouldn’t be that hard!’ He thought to himself. ‘Just say something.’
“Umm…are you okay?” He said, his voice filled with trepidation. He didn’t know if he should offer his hand, or not. What if she rejected it, or was offended by it? That would be awkward. What if she was offended that he didn’t offer her his hand. Berkley furrowed his brow, and stared down at his hands, trying to decide what to do with them.

[CC is SO Sorry D:]

Airelynn laid on the ground for a few moments before a voice filled her ears. She actually heard the specific words because the owner of the voice was speaking to her. She blinked in shock, trying to register the feeling. Normally, nobody spoke to her unless they were going to yell abusively. Airelynn wasn't sure how she liked the change. Nevertheless, she stood up, wincing at her sore bruises, and faced the speaker.

It was a boy, maybe around her age, although probably a little bit older. His hair was light brown, but Airelynn could detect some lighter highlights. He stood quite a few inches taller than she did, but she didn't raise her eyes to his (so she couldn't see their color). Instead, she lowered her eyes in a shy manner, trying to avoid staring at him as she made sure that none of her bruises were showing.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered quietly, defensively crossing her arms over her chest. It was the truth too. She was fine. She could handle herself. It was just a little fall. Besides, she could feel a bruise forming along her hip. All in all, it hadn't been an awful day. There was just the small matter of actually talking to someone, for once. But perhaps if she came home late enough, her father would be angry. If she was lucky.

Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten for almost twenty-four hours. In fact, she was just about ready to collapse on the ground again from fatigue. Airelynn winced at her bad luck, hoping the boy wouldn't notice. Even if it didn't tell him anything, if too many people knew anything about her, she could be in trouble. What if someone investigated her? It couldn't happen.

He looked nice enough, but Airelynn couldn't say for sure whether he was or not. People were deceiving. She was a perfect example. She may look like a nice, innocent girl, but Airelynn knew she was an awful person. A monster. A murderer. She didn't want to be, but it was who she was.

Airelynn bit her lip and thought what she might do. She could continue the conversation, which could be awkward, or she could walk away, which could be awkward. She suddenly looked up at him, seeing his eyes for the first time.

She thought they looked quite beautiful. They were a gray-blue color, and, upon closer inspection, found a ring of gold around the iris. She tightened her arms across her chest as she realized she was staring. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she ducked her head again, embarrassed.

She didn't really know why she cared. She had done far worse things than staring at someone (clearly), but she was scared of hurting someone again. Hurting her entire family was enough. Although, maybe he would tried to hurt her too. That wouldn't be so bad, Airelynn thought. How could it possibly be? She loved pain, so he would be doing her a favor.

But, in that case, she would actually have to know him. She didn't know his name. She wondered fleetingly what it was. Something sweet, probably. He looked sweet. Still, maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was rude and evil.

No, he couldn't be, because he had asked her how she was. He was a kind person, she knew it. She imagined what the bruises would feel like, coming from him. Wonderful, probably. Tear-inducing and painful, causing incredible pleasure. Being beaten, bloody and bruised, and left alone, maybe with a broken bone or two. How mind-blowing that would be.

But she didn't know him. Hardly knew the first thing about him. So why did she want him to hurt her? He was a stranger, and it was the people you loved the most that hurt you, Airelynn knew that. She wasn't delusional. But she wanted to know him, for some strange reason she couldn't quite understand.

She knew it was dangerous to get close to someone, because she could hurt them. But she wasn't getting "close" to him, she was just making polite conversation. Right? There was no harm in it, no harm in a little curiosity.

"So...um, thanks. You know, I guess." She felt her face beginning to color again. "It was, er, nice? Yeah, nice, that's it. Just because no one's ever really tried to help me before, I guess."

She had said too much. She needed to walk away, but she didn't want to. So she picked the next best option. She changed the subject.

"So, what's your name?

[Eastern Orange]

Berkley blushed, and brought his hands close to him, looking down at the girl. ‘Guess, I shouldn’t have worried about it so much…’ He thought. The girl confirmed that she was okay, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. He took the opportunity to study her. He wasn’t good with guessing age, for obvious reasons, but he put her around his age, probably younger. She was shorter then him, and significantly skinny. Her hair effectively hid her face from site, but by what he had glimpsed she was pretty.

An awkward silence crept over them, as Berkley struggled for something to say. He had no precedent to call upon to help him. He brought his hand up, and scratched behind his neck, mostly to just have something to do. The girl’s stomach broke the silence. He froze, and instantly felt guilty of his own full stomach. He had walked five miles, but still he felt bloated from his mother’s insane dinner. He wondered what courtesy would dictate here. Would a courteous person offer her food? Or pretend they hadn’t heard it? It seemed rude to offer food, so he went with the latter.

He was still rubbing his fingers through his hair, and was staring her at her with out realizing it, when she suddenly brought her eyes up to meet his. A blush quickly appeared across his cheeks and neck, and he swiftly broke the eye contact by sweeping his eyes up. ‘Wait, isn’t it normal to make eye contact when talking to people?’ He had observed it before. He forced his eyes back down, but she had already looked away by then.

Well this is awkward.

Finally, the long lag in conversation was broken, and by the girl embarrassingly enough. Berkley couldn’t come up with a single thing to say? That’s just sad. She thanked him, and confessed that no one had helped her before. Now, Berkley knew enough to know that was weird. No one help her before? Like, ever? What about her parents, or siblings. Friends? He knew other people had friends, even if he didn’t. He understood the mechanics of friendship, the principle of it. He has just never experienced it for himself, and never understood the why factor. He thought that he was the only one. Finding out that he wasn’t the only lonely person in existence was less…lonely. He instantly felt closer to her.

“Uh, no problem.” He said, hoping it was the right thing to say. It thought it was, recalling times when he had observed similar situations. “My name is Berkley Ichabod.” He said in response to her question, hesitating slightly before saying ‘Ichabod,’ because he didn’t know if she was aware of his family or not, and if it would intimidate her into not speaking to him, like the rest of the people he had tried talking to. “What about you?”

ooc: I'm gonna add things to his personality, in case you what to read it.

[CC is SO Sorry D:]

That was a little awkward, Airelynn thought, admonishing herself. She didn't want to cause any suspicion, because the consequences could just be...catastrophic. For her, at least. She couldn't imagine how she would feel if her father wasn't allowed to beat her often enough. It was strange, because the only time she felt like someone cared about what happened to her was when he abused her. Otherwise, everyone ignored her and she was left to provide for her family, without any of them sparing her a thought. Airelynn loved her family, but they didn't love her. Her father, mother, brother, and sister...they all hated her. She thought she was alright with that, because she deserved their contempt. Their unfeeling, cold attitude was completely justified. So she was alright with that.

He finally responded with his name. Berkley Ichabod. Airelynn smiled. It was a sweet name--everything about him was sweet. He was sincere and she almost wished she could trust him, but she wasn't foolish enough for that. That would be a fatal mistake. Perhaps quite literally. If she couldn't trust him and he tried to save her, then she could kill herself. Possibly. Quite possibly.

"Oh, my name is Airelynn," she announced, responding to his question, once more avoiding his eyes. She looked at everything besides, including her feet, the people passing by the two of them, the buildings lining the street. She almost felt guilty of the fact that she simply could not tell him her last name. It seemed like confidential information that she couldn't share with him, for fear that he would come to know her too well.

The entire situation was too dangerous, Airelynn thought. Too risky. It was her paranoia of being caught, but she was incapable of holding casual conversation with anyone. She was terrified of what relationships with people led to. She always hurt the people she was close with, and she didn't want to hurt anyone else. She was the one who deserved the pain, not Berkley. It was so obvious, watching the way he acted, that he was a kind-hearted person. She could see the goodness inside of him, so unlike herself. She just knew he would try to help her, to stop her from inflicting pain unto herself. Well, if she got too attached.

She wasn't going to let that happen.

It certainly wasn't too late, because they had only just begun to speak with each other. They hardly knew each other's names, even if Airelynn felt like she understood him well. At least she understood enough. She understood that socializing was the first step to destruction, and she simply couldn't let that happen.

Airelynn glanced down the gravel road, in the direction of her home. Her family wasn't waiting for her, but she had to get home. Nobody took care the house, so she had to clean up sometime. There were probably dishes in the sink she had to take care of, and dusty counters. Money was tight for her family, so there wasn't much food ready to eat. She possibly had to make something for Agalynn to eat, and maybe her mother and brother. She could only imagine the glares Garrett would send her if she tried taking care of him.

The thought provoked mixed feelings from Airelynn. On one hand, her brother's hatred for her was expected and she couldn't hold it against him. On the other hand, she felt the agony caused by her brother's anger towards her. Either way, she felt some time of abuse, and it would be all the more potent if she actually experienced the event of her brother's eyes focused on her, filled with utter rage.

What was she even doing here?

"I'm sorry, I actually should probably be going," Airelynn said softly to Berkley. Well, not quite to him. She still couldn't bring her eyes up to meet his. She felt too embarrassed. But really, it was for the best. Besides, what was the big deal? She was moving on her way after exchanging pleasantries with a random stranger on the street. There was no reason to feel any amount of guilt, but there was a sinking feeling in Airelynn's stomach as she turned away and began to walk, her head lowered shamefully.

[[ooc: I'm sorry, this post was all over the place. :/]]

[Eastern Orange]

Berkley didn't have the skills required to fill in the long drags in conversation. The girl introduced herself as Airelynn, he didn't recognize the name not surprisingly. He know what to say to her. Compliment her name? Comment on the originality on it? He didn't say anything.

Airelynn broke the silence one more, but it was to say goodbye. Panic bubbled in his chest, as she turned to go. He didn't want her to leave. She was the first person he had spoken to outside of his family. Berk reflexively reached out a hand to stop her, but he drew it back almost immediately. What grounds did he have to stop her?

"Uh, um" He stammered out quickly. "B-bye Airelynn." He pronounced her name tentatively. He knew that it was unlikely that he would ever see her again. His mom would hold him even closer now that she sensed that he was growing away from her. "Good luck...with life?" It came out as a question, and very pained. He didn't know why he said it, but it was the first thing that jumped into his mind. A last ditch effort to connect?

ooc: Sorry it's so short. Not much to say. >.<