<---it's--[our]--party---> /victors/

[Rosetta]

For the last time in her life, Lethe got ready for bed alone. She showered, braided her wet hair, brushed her teeth, and shrugged into a white nightgown, preparing herself for bed. Her bed. Tomorrow it would be his, hers, theirs. Of course, by tomorrow night, all of Lethe's belongings would be merged with Jasper's in their new bridal suite until the end of the Games. But, for now, she was desolate, heart thumping with each step across the room and into the bathroom to moisturize her face (Mother’s voice was ringing in her ears-she was to take care of herself properly on the one night she wasn’t there to mess with her). There was no mirror to guide her and that’s how she liked it. Jasper was alone in his own suite (since leaving the train, they’d been separated to be made up and groomed), Mother was with father and Eden and the rest of her siblings were spread around. All Lethe could hope for was that they were all behaving themselves and they or another Victor didn’t end up taking home one more person than they intended.


Lethe's toes were numb and pink from treading barefoot across the cold tile of her bathroom and back into the bedroom. She tried to warm them in the carpet and then her slippers when she came upon them. If Jasper were here, he'd offer to rub them for her. He'd hold her, he'd touch her. He may just kiss her.


She shuddered. It wasn't that his kisses were awful. In fact, the kisses she allowed him the night he proposed to her were gentle, yet trembled with passion. They were just unfathomable. On the train ride, she went to him at night. She had meant to question him ("What had my mother promised you?" "Is it true? Do you really care?"), but upon stepping into his line of vision, she felt herself loosen. The way he looked at her softened her rock-hard skin. When he spoke, in his melodic way, her lips slackened and found their way to his. That's all she did on that night. Kissed him.

She tried to taste duty in it, tried to taste Mother's lipstick, but he was tender, he was affectionate and it frustrated her. That silly boy with his buttons and letters and rings that wedged their way in between her scales to her soft underbelly. Tomorrow, she'd be his.

And who said he couldn't be hers? The thought amused her, a smile flitting across her mouth as she pulled back her sheets and crawled into bed. If, once out of Mother's gaze, he wasn't the sentimental man he seemed to be, then it would be up to her as to what to do with him. Lethe, timid Lethe, but the Victor, the District Five Victor, she could take charge if she wanted to, couldn't she?

If that, of course, was the case.

Her engagement ring tingled as she lowered her head to her pillow and drew the blankets over her head. There would be no gentle lull of Eden’s breath in the next room to rock her to sleep. Tonight, Lethe was alone, counting her own breath, watching the light of the stars from her sky-light catch the diamond in her finger. It really was lovely, so tenderly twisted onto her ring and then twisted again and again until it left a red mark, but she still couldn’t remove it. It was like it was glued to her in the way Eric never was.

As soon as she thought his name, Lethe knew she had to sleep. Tomorrow was her wedding and Eric was ringing like bells in her ears and she knew she had to sleep, erase it, destroy him in a dream and wake up fresh in the morning, face forgotten, words forgotten, child forgotten and she just might’ve been able to if not for the knock on the door. Slip off, lulled to sleep by the light flitting across her face, humming to stop the chorus in her brain. But, there was a knock. Mother was her immediate thought. Mother come to bother her. To lecture her. To kiss her and fawn over her. Mother. Lethe wanted to ignore her, to feign sleep, but the knock came quickly again. Only Mother would be that insistent. With a sigh, Lethe pushed her blankets away and prepared to answer the door, but not before all ten Victors behind it opened it for her and poured in.

In that split-second, with the instincts of a girl who has seen her life flash before her eyes (or rather eye), Lethe knew she had one of two choices: one, scream, pull her blankets up to her chin and command them to leave or two, grin at the bottles of booze clutched in every hand and consent. Eric. Eric. Eric. But she was marrying Jasper tomorrow. Would sleep erase what was carved into the inside of her skull so that every single time she closed her eyes she saw it, saw his name? Would she see it tomorrow? Whisper it into his hair? In Arbor’s hand, liquor swished and collided with the walls of its glass prison. And so, Lethe bought herself time.

With a manufactured smile, she climbed out of bed and smoothed her nightgown. “You guys better have a quick remedy for hangovers tomorrow morning.”

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[d1f october rhapsody fray ❁]

[presto]

klaus goravich
twenty one
district three

[/presto]

---

OH, FOR EVERY KING THAT DIED

---

Once, I was a boy of morning coffee and mourning tears, encyclopedias and solitary games of cards. I was a boy of window seats and shaking fingers and heavy memories. Now, things are different. I am a man of sippy cups and windswept hair, sleepless nights and easy smiles. Together, we are an empire of picture books and stuffed toys, shadowy eyes and abundant kisses. It's been said a million times before, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. A morning well spent is the kind where I'm woken by a sleepy toddler before dawn, lost in a sea of odd socks and dragged into the bitter morning air by a chubby fist. The pirate ship of blood and broken hearts has been replaced by the one down at the playground, with ladders up it's sides and a slide from the bow, and together Daisy and I complete the treasure hunt until our noses are numb and our eyes shine bright. I show her the old tree I grew up afraid to climb and hope that by the time she's old enough to stray from my outstretched arms, she'll be braver than I ever was. This is what I think as I watch her sleep - long eyelashes like spiders dancing across her unblemished cheeks. Tiny, golden-brown ringlets frame her face, and a tangled birdsnest of hair crowns her. In her sleep, she clutches at the bear that came with her, the only thing remaining of her old home. (She's here now, beside me, soft little whimpers escaping from her lips, whispered insights into her dreams.) Daisy lies beside me, curled on her side. A year ago, all I wanted was a way to go back and undo what was done, a way to conceal the memories I couldn't escape, a way to smile without forcing it through gritted teeth. Now, I want the world. For Daisy, I want a life of laughter and smiles and everything she could ever ask for - I want her to be better than me in every possible way, to fly where I fell, to grow where I shrank. I want her safe and well and complete, never doubting herself for a second. (I fear, now, that I am asking for too much, but there is nobody in the world who deserves it more than the little girl with her thumb jammed in her mouth and infinity in her eyes.) Today, I don't know how I will protect her when in ten years time, her name enters the reaping pool and a era of fear begins again. But flicking through the television channels with the volume on zero - (Daisy's a light sleeper) - I see twenty four faces, each of them so much younger than I ever remember being. Each year, I watch as two dozen children die. This year, though, they're so much more innocent - not the stocky, older careers and bigger teenagers with stubble and ten years of training in their wake. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Mahlah's wide eyes blink in my mind before I force them back because after all, it doesn't matter how long they've has beating hearts. It's strange to think that soon enough one of them will join our ranks - the group of people who once seemed so foreign and strange and now make up the circle I fit in with the most. Each of them, I admire endlessly, but no longer do I feel a stranger, mismatched and out of place. Finally, I turn off the box, unable to look at the youngsters for another second. Beside me, Daisy stirs, and I get to my feet, once again embarking on a quest for a bottle of lukewarm milk. As I move around the kitchen, I smile. Even though I only spend a couple of weeks of each year in these rooms, they have become one of my favourite places to be. I remember leaning against the benchtops twelve long months ago, with Lethe sipping tea at my side and the girls playing at our feet - here in the Capitol was where my world first fell apart, and here was where it came together again. Here, I am more at home than I am in the Victor's village, living in a house filled with countless strangers who were once my entire world. (They don't know me anymore, and it's easier to hide than to attempt to explain what the Games do to a person.) As Daisy hungrily sucks at the bottle, she nestles into my side and digs her tiny fingers into my arm. I kiss her forehead and silently thank her for stitching my life together with her doll-sized dresses and midnight wails, her obsession with things she isn't allowed and the way she manages to fill the entire house despite her pint sized frame. When she's done, I tuck her into her cot and read her a story. Perhaps at two she isn't quite old enough to understand it, but I want her to love books in the same way I do - to pour over their pages and fall headfirst into the worlds they offer. I want her to grow from the letters and feed off the characters. (Maybe when she's all grown up, I'll tell her my own story. That day is still a long way away.) The avox arrives five minutes early, silent as always. I've come to know her - her name is Ariel, and I wish she could speak so as to explain what led to her arrival here. Either way, I greet her warmly at the door, welcome her inside and make her tea - (perhaps this isn't allowed, but Daisy still can't sleep through the night and she deserves it for the hours she is about to endure.) I fetch the bottle of alcohol Arbor insisted I bring along from the cupboard and bid them both farewell. I haven't yet seen Lethe since arriving in the Capitol, and although the wedding's tomorrow they've arranged the party for tonight. My protests - something about her needing to rest - were drowned out by a chorus of Victors, and of course I wouldn't miss it for the world. I arrive minutes later on her doorstep, hidden behind the others and sweating a little. She's inside, beautiful and pale-faced, looking anxious and worn in her nightgown. I offer her a smile as she glances at her guests, and she offers us all a slightly unconvincing one in return."You guys better have a quick remedy for hangovers tomorrow morning.” Grinning, I glance back at Topaz, Cricket and the others, for I certainly have nothing of the sorts. A little awkwardly, I offer her my gift, wrapped hurriedly in between nap-time and a nappy change. It's a book, of course - A Guide to Flowers. We found it in the second-hand bookshop and spent the entire year collecting the specimens and pressing them in the pages - turning the ancient volume into a complete gallery of perfectly preserved plants from District Three. "It's so wonderful to see you again, Lethe," I say, and I truly mean that I couldn't ask for anything better than my life in this moment.

THEY WOULD CROWN ANOTHER

[cass]

There was no way on Earth Opal was going to prevent herself from feeling completely and utterly awkward. Apparently all the victors were heading out to visit Lethe Turner, to drag her out of bed and take her to a party. They said she’d be drinking alcohol and they’d all be drinking alcohol. Well, except for her, of course. She’d tried it once. It was awful. It had left a burning sensation in her throat and it had just felt bitter on her tongue. Her parents drank the alcohol a lot. Sometimes they’d stumble down the stairs, sometimes they’d trip over each other and they’d never make it to their beds. They’d kind of give up and just flop down on the couch and sleep right there. The night she’d come home they’d done a lot of drinking, they’d almost begged her to join them telling her that she was their darling little victor and that she should be able to drink and party and have just ever so much fun. She’d sat on the edge of her chair listening to them rant, but ignoring everything they had said. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that. After all it had been the first time they had ever said the words ‘we are proud of you’ or ‘I love you’ and she hadn’t even paid attention.

Sighing heavily she pulled her blankets off of her body. She’d not been sleeping, but she had gone to bed really early that night, bidding everyone farewell before dinner arrived. It had something to do with the day she had had, her mind still swirled and she still flinched as she recalled the events that had occurred. She still couldn’t fathom what had driven her to yell at her tributes in the way she had, but she had and there was no going back on the things she had said. She’d be damned if she ever apologised. So instead of dinner she had gone to her room, pulled a blanket over her head and thought about how she was going to handle it all. Instinct begged her to speak with Topaz, but she wasn’t quite ready to explain it all to the older victor, and she didn’t want to know and see Topaz’s reaction to the events that had unfolded.

She slipped into the first clothes she could grab, uncaring of what anyone thought. She knew the other victors wondered why she was always so happy, as though the deaths of twenty-three other people didn’t weigh her down every single day. But none of them seemed to understand that she’d rather be happy then a moping mess. Well, they didn’t appear to understand, but she really wasn’t in the mood to make judgements and assume they didn’t. She liked a lot of them. Topaz, especially, the bright woman was all smiles and advice whenever the two of them spoke and it was useful to have her around and to guide her. Opal appreciated everything she said, she appreciated everything Topaz had done for her and part of her was desperate to become really good friends with her. The newly turned seventeen year old also liked Peri. The two had become really close, she had spoken with Mace a few times, but she didn’t even mind the gruff man, because underneath it all she could see something softer. She’d never ever dream of saying that to him, but knowing it was there was enough.

Then there was Arbor whom she had yet to meet. She was rather excited to meet him, she’d heard a lot about him, but Opal was unwilling to get her hopes up too far just in case he turned out to be nothing like what she expected. She had glimpsed Cricket a few times, and Opal was eager to greet her just like most of the victors, the flexible district two victor was the very embodiment of odd. Dashing out of bed she raced to the door, knowing that she was probably going to end up being late to the first victor thing she had ever been to. Pressing a hand to her head she quickly ran it through her hair, no time for brushing. The jeans she wore were black; they covered up her fake leg. The shirt she had decided to tug on was simple, light green and long sleeved. She jumped through the door of her room in the training centre. Topaz and Peridot were nowhere to be seen and her stomach tightened. Moving down the hallway she decided that she’d head to Lethe’s room by herself, there was bound to be another victor heading that way, she’d tag along with them.

Within moments she was at Lethe’s room, she stood at the back of the group of victors, a little away from the rest of them. Normally in a situation like this she’d be able to stand her own ground and make herself into something. She’d be able to be polite and introduce herself and confident enough to speak with everyone around her. But the group of people in front of her were intimidating. After all they were the people that had fought and survived and she really wasn’t that sure of herself around them. So she hung back, eyes watching everything they did, a small smile playing on her lips as she listened.

I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything
You held me down, but I got up
Already brushing off the dust
You hear my voice, you hear that sound
Like thunder gonna shake the ground

ooc -- graphic credit to Zoë<3

[/justify][/size]

[Wonder]

∞

♛ peridot myler; ♛

He's a phantom in the spotless hallways now.

Ever since arriving at the Capitol, the whole attitude towards Peri had been entirely different. Sure, he was still a victor, and always would be. But there was new and greater now. The feeling had seeped into his paling skin after Cricket's win - but it was different these days. It was one thing to have another career win from a new district. But Opal was from district one. Aside from being all together completely different than him, the spotlight had shifted off his shaking corpse and the limelight surrounding the girl with the undying smile, a smile that was still never dying, it just didn't make sense. Peri had spent a good deal of time with Opal, well he had tried anyways. Topaz was much better at the whole mentoring field, Peri was quite useless in that fashion.

He had won, wasn't that good enough? One would think. But the job of a victor is never done, they never get to forget. The solid metal walls of the training centre were tragic in themselves, so shiny, never dirty. Prison walls made of diamonds. That was the Capitol as a whole. Kiera, Viridian, Emerald, Xanthus, Opal. Five names from home, only one had survived. What kind of mentor and friend was he, that success rate was purely dismal. Better than most of the other districts that was for sure, but the faces burned so deeply in his mind. The determined face of Emerald, ready to take down anything that came her way - the vengeful streak of Viridian, doing what his sister couldn't. Warriors. Xanthus' dark emotionless face spreads across his face, the addiction to slipping blood. Merely faces in the sky now, walking around with the other tributes, in their own little statue garden.

An avox shivers as he passes, little micro-expressions that he'd learned to pick up on as of late. Pure fear in her dying eyes. So hollow, each bit of her, her skin sagging white and dying. Her concave cheek bones, painting over the open cavern of her mouth. She shakes as he passes - after all before her stands the monster from district one, the ruthless killer who walked on black onyx's, slew the moon, killed two children in cold blood, and one out of vengeful hatred. Winning through flames and fire, leaving his heart behind on a stone in a cavern. The recap videos showed it all, the hatred lingering in his soul, the burning desire to kill. Slaying the Sculla, Cerberus, his very own alliance member. He lunges towards the Avox girl, the dark ginger hair slowly greying from fear. A shrill yelp desperate to escape her broken voice box, cowering - this is what a monster looks like. Beware Little Girl, you've only seen the beginnings of the Capitols evil.

"Cat got your tongue?" Peri laughs, shuffling on past her, his feet clicking along the metallic hallways as he passes. The echo of his shoes the only sound through the long maze of twists and turns, not turning around once to ensure the girl was alright. If someone thought he was scary, well he'd show them - that was for sure, he'd show them. Peridot Myler, the monster from One. Three notches on his belt, three kills, three mentor deaths - and Opal Shore. Seventeen years old, eighteen years old, he wasn't even sure, and pushing him out of what was once his spotlight. No longer was he the victor from district one, he was a victor from district one. Just another generalized number, another survivor, killed, machine, winner, loser, monster among the other sixty-four.

After all that, he'd done his job - Peri had done exactly what they had asked them. Mentor. Get your tribute home. That's what they asked, and he'd supplied and because of it, he was kicked out of the circle of appreciation. Is that what Topaz had felt when he had won? Pushed out of the way - couldn't be, it'd been so long since her victory, she had her entire life set up. Married, pregnant, twins - it was all there set up for her and Peri was simply there. Lingering in an endless void, soaking up whatever bits of sunshine he could, and living on the fame of being a career victor. And if that disappeared.

He came to a halt in front of the elevator doors.

What was there?

Money, sure.

Life.

But what life did he have to live? His mother hardly spoke these days, cooked and cleaned around the large victor mansion. Every time that was possible, the shop would be opened, the stones were polished, sometimes sold. But there was no real purpose to the store. All the money was just tacked on to what he already had saved up. Mentoring duties were split between three of them now, Opal had taken on this years tributes. Alcohol had never really been his jam, there was no one he was particularly in love with yet, nor would there ever really be.

All there was to do was be a monster.

It was the never ending life of being alone, undisturbed, angry, perpetually disturbed. Listening and talking to stars, shining the stones that hung around his neck. He'd even ventured into the dank bits of the Capitol in order to pick up a little present for Lethe. Even the slums of the Capitol were nicer than most of the districts that he had visited on his two victory tours. Even Lethe had something better to do with her life, getting married. Peri had met the kid, passed by him once, seemed like a little too clean and proper for his general liking being more a jeans and loose t-shirt kind of guy himself. There was clearly something about him that Lethe liked - what was there about Peri to be liked?

Nothing.

Peri had another Avox cook them herself before he left for the party, they were meant to surprise her. Something told him that Lethe wouldn't end up being all that surprised in the end, but who was he to ruin a good time? Remember Little Boy, you're a monster, three kills. It was hard to forget. After a long pause, the baggie hanging limp in his left hand, he finally decided to press the elevator doors. Sure that Topaz and Opal were already up there, there was no need for the awkwardness of having hung around by himself so long. Who would question it? An Avox? he snickered quietly to himself melodically along with the chipper ding of the elevator door, pressing the button '5' and ascending quickly with a rush.

More than a few victors had gathered by the time he arrived. Opal standing towards the back of the pack, smiling still - never stopping smiling. Peri nudged his way forward to Klaus who lead the pack and gave him a nod of appreciation, the quiet victor of the Games before his, had he also felt this phantom feeling? One couldn't be sure. "You guys better have a quick remedy for hangovers tomorrow morning.” The party never ended in the small group of winners, it was the only way to keep going, never forgetting to stop. Lethe's green eyes stood out from the rest of her pale body, much like his. She was a witty little woman, no longer girl - there was no other victor who's attention he liked as much. Klaus greeted her, and Peri stepped forward shaking the little baggie in his hands, grinning ear to ear.

"I, uh - I brought the brownies."

[/color]

ooc: not quite sure what this is tbh
words: 1264[/size]

[Rosetta]

If Lethe were any less naïve, she would've expected as much. It was the eve of her wedding. The Victors never missed an opportunity to celebrate and get drunk. Was it a good idea to get drunk before her wedding and be hung over down the aisle?

I'll be numb, she thought, trapped in a haze of the drugs they'll give me to make me feel better. My entire body will be paralyzed, yet mobile, moving in step to a wedding hymn. I might even say I do.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Lethe heaved a sigh and smiled at Peri, accepting the plateful of brownies he was handing her. "Thanks," she turned back to all the other Victors and forced a grin before announcing cheerfully, "Well, uhm, let's get going!"

I am going to regret this, Lethe thought vaguely, her mother's face flitting through her mind as she took a bite out of her first brownie.

….

Sometime later, Lethe had Camalia on her stomach. She was lying on her bed, giggling. Her head was in Klaus's lap and she was reaching up, playing with his hair, sweaty fingers on a sweaty forehead. "Let's give you a haircut!" She suggested, suppressing a burp that tasted like beer. She gave his hair a tug. "Camalia can do it!" She laughed again. Klaus was swimming up in her vision, twisting and turning, but not shimmering. All she wanted was a kaleidoscope.

The other Victors were somewhere, wandering about her quarters. Some were singing and Lethe was vaguely aware that something in her room was broken. Music was playing, but not the silly kind of music she heard at the dinner parties, but louder, harder kind of music that hit you in the gut and rattled your brain around in your skull. Lethe's wet lips opened up in a toothy smile again. Imagine if Mother saw this! She'd have a heart attack.

Lethe chuckled and pick Camalia up, she tried to raise her to Klaus's head but missed by several inches, instead placing Camalia cleanly on his shoulder. "She likes you!" Lethe announced shrilly as Camalia gave Klaus a few licks. Still giggling, she turned onto her stomach, pulling herself up on her elbows over Klaus as she surveyed the room.

"Topaz!" she cried out. "What's it like being maaaaarieddd?" She held out the word like her mother did. A shrill way. The kind of voice that could shatter glass. She giggled some more, this time actually burped. “You knocked up yet?” She was proud of herself. Knocked up was a phrase she picked up from her mother after all. It was the phrase her mother hissed at Lethe’s father behind closed doors when Lethe announced her pregnancy. It was scathing, burning Lethe’s skin into ribbons of scars, but today, she giggled. Knocked up. It was funny.

“You knowww,” she rolled onto her back again and grabbed Camalia from the sheets, holding her with her two hands, “I got knocked up before I was married. In a bathtub!” She glanced up at Klaus. “Did you know that? Did you know that?

“I hope Jasper ,” she hold out his name for a long time, contemplating what she hoped for for a moment and then she grinned, “I hope he has a bathtub. Do you think he’ll have a bathtub?” she asked Klaus, but then rolled back on her stomach before he could answer. “I want ten bathtubs. I want ten bathtubs. Did you know that? Ten!” Lethe was aware that she was talking a lot. Her tongue was tripping over the words and her stomach was a little queasy, but she could not stop. Her mind was whizzing and racing over Jasper, over the wedding, over Mother and Jasper and the ending and Eric. “Eric!” she exclaimed the name suddenly and instantly she felt heat rise to her face. “Do you think he’ll be there? Do you think so?” She’d turned back to Klaus, but her eyes were also darting around the room, eyebrows knit close together. “Will he come to the wedding?”

Suddenly, her eyes were popping out of her skull with a wedding and she in white, but she was watching from above as she turned to Jasper at, “You may now kiss the bride,” but he had no face! She gasped and stumbled back, but there was strong arms to catch her and it was Eric here to— “Will he come? And whisk me away? Whisk me away to another bathtub?!” Her laughter was echoing across the room, but her voice was pained, stricken and she clutched Klaus’s arm with one hand, squeezing Camalia with the other.

“Do you think so? Do you? Do you?”

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