Mushroom Samba [Skiplaurel / Kristof]

[Underleaf]

s k i p l a u r e l !

O c t o b e r 5 , 2 0 2 4

Laurel sits attentively at the Poison Station, learning about all the genetically modified plants the Capitol has worked on since the Rebellion. (And a few during) The Capitol had even made a few plants that were carnivorous, but there was less info on those and Laurel decides it is too morbid a subject, anyways. She would hit the Camouflage Station after this, no one really took that Station veery seriously and Laurel decides it could be fun.

Huh, fun, that was the first time that word had come up since this entire thing had started.

Laurel leans forward and looks at a colorful blue mushroom whose spores would parasitize the lungs of anyone unfortunate enough to breathe them in. Didn't seem very balanced for the Games, but maybe that was why it was behind bulletproof glass in here, instead.

"Mister Mushroom..." Laurel says to herself playfully, almost like a song.

ELEGANT

[d9 kristof parks {ems}]

All of this isn't ideal, yet he tries finding ways to make the best of it; to see the world for what it is when everything seems pointless. Every breath is precious, a gift, and maybe that's why he tries every single day to keep his purpose alive. His family; they're at home waiting for him, and maybe somewhere beyond the grave Chaske and Rolf are looking after him. He shakes his head.

Life doesn't exist beyond the grave.

He roams through the training center looking for something to do, anything to occupy his time. Nothing looks fun. Nothing draws his attention.

At least for now.

But soon Kristof makes his way to the poison station and he takes a seat and looks at the tribute, the girl, maybe this is a chance to make another friend.

"Mushrooms are fascinating aren't they?"

 
table by Dars <3

[Underleaf]

s k i p l a u r e l !

O c t o b e r 9 , 2 0 2 4

"Yeah, I love mushrooms!" Laurel states before she's even looked to see who has sat next to her. She tilts her head at Kristof quizzically. "You're Baby's partner, right? District Nine? You guys are looking strong this year." Laurel tries to be polite. This guy's odds weren't all that high and neither were her own, for that matter. Still, being fatalistic wasn't going to win her friends or sponsors, plus, it made for bad TV viewing. Laurel couldn't have that.

"Eating the wrong one can stop your heart, though. You know, in the Capitol, they put these on some kind of pie made of cheese?" Laurel almost speaks ill of the Capitol in front of the cameras, but manages to stop herself.

ELEGANT