~Drumming Noise~ [Lorraine]

[chelsey]

lorrainemercier

district ( f o u r )

After asking the question, the sixteen year old whipped her head around and took a seat on the counter, her feet dangling a few inches off the ground. Lenoura sat at the circular table, a peaceful look replacing her previous pained expression. The environment surrounding her seemed to fit the tranquility that now enveloped the three. "Anything is fine for me really." Spoke Lenoura. "Whatever Tim would like."

"And what would the king like?" Replied Lorraine, returning to the playful jokes from earlier. Tim was currently sunken into the coziest nook of the sofa, a book in his hand.

"Fish?" He replied nonchalantly, probably not even aware that he answered the question. When ever he reads, he tends to leave reality and enter the happy world that only a story could provide. Sometimes, Lorraine wishes she could join her father on the journey. But why bother fooling yourself into something that could only be described as untrue, a myth, a fairy tale? And it's a tall tale, at that. Happy endings are one of the many things that Panem lacks.

However, fish are one of the many things that Panem does not lack.

Especially with District Four close in hand.

"Fish it is." The fiery red head hopped off the counter in one quick move, gathering the ingredients for the meal in mere seconds. She knew where everything was in the kitchen like the back of her hand. Collecting the pan, plates, utensils, and cups could easily look choreographed and like a dance.

The descaled fish sizzled in a shallow pool of oil, it's salty scent wafting through out the house. As she let the fish sit for a crispy effect, Lorraine opened one of the windows, a cold gust of air immediately rushing through.

"You're home is really beautiful." The sixteen year old turned to her friend, who still sat as if in awe. Lorraine blushed at the charming compliment.

"Well, it's nothing compared to that of The Capitol or District One." She said. "But, a compliment is a compliment. Thanks."

"Can I stay here forever?" Lenoura replied, a giggle escaping her lips.

Lorraine laughed, as well, a pleasant warmth coloring her cheeks and brightening her eyes. "Be my guest." She returned to the stove, where vegetables boiled in a pot and the fish was already cooked to perfection, or, at least, as close it'd ever get to perfection. She placed the bed of greens in a bowl and the fish on a plate. It wasn't much for three mouths, but Lorraine figured that they'd all get by. Jokingly, she added, "I could use some company around here, other than his majesty." Lorraine smiled when she heard Tim laugh. "Okay, food's ready!" She announced.

She set the plates and forks on the table, then placed the food in the middle. Her stomach growled at the sight, and it suddenly dawned upon Lorraine that she hadn't eaten anything all day.

Although she didn't exactly know what the phrase meant, the pianist knew it must've come from a world before the one she lives in. A language no longer spoken, but often referred to. Just like the musical terms forte or ritard. She's heard it used a few times, before, from her mother - one of the little things she didn't mind remembering about her. As Lorraine took a seat next to Lenoura, she plainly stated, "Bon appetit."

OOC: I'm so sorry for the wait! I'll work on the D7 thread next!

[Lenoura]

Louder than Sirens...Louder than Bells

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The man had barely looked up from the book he so eagerly found himself immersed in. A bead of jealously formed within Lenoura as she watched him gingerly turn each page. The awkward beauty wasn't fortunate enough to have a library in her home, which was a shame in itself. As a child when she regularly attended school she could remember having an abnormal connection to books. After her mother passed however, she had to stay home to care for Dewey and said goodbye to the novels and short stories she had once so admiringly loved.

No need to be jealous. Her mind was right. It was never good to feel jealous of others' lives. She had all that she needed in life; a home, a loving family, and a beating heart. Everything else was a luxury, and those who could enjoy such luxuries should be grateful too. The hazel-eyed girl smiled once Lorraine announced that fish would be served. What a shock, her mind playfully teased.

It was enchanting to watch Lorraine cook. At home Lenoura did all the cooking, thankfully having had some experience cooking with her mother. Most of it unfortunately, she had learned and picked up on her own without her mother's guidance. The oil boiled in the pan as Noura smelled the salty scent of the searing fish. Thank goodness for districts four's fish; they were a delicacy like nothing else.

"I could use some company around here, other than his majesty." Noura had to keep herself from laughing. Her new friend surely knew how to crack a great joke, and the playful air the redhead shared with her father was wonderful to witness. "Okay, food's ready!"

Excitement filled all of the swimmer's senses. She was certain the fish would be delicious. Lorraine's particular statement once the food was set down was somewhat unfamiliar to the blonde, and she wondered whether or not she was speaking some foreign language. Who cares? Just eat!

The savory flavor of the fish comforted Noura. It was a taste she was all too familiar with, and suddenly she felt as if she were back home sharing a meal with her family. Certainly the company she found herself surrounded by at the moment did her justice. They were a lovely pair, and made her feel welcomed.

For the first time ever, the awkward beauty felt as if she fit.

"Lorraine this so delicious!" The compliment was as genuine as they came. Noura was truly enjoying the meal. "Did you teach yourself how to cook?"

Then as if on cue the blonde dropped her fork onto the ground. Even when she was sitting she couldn't help being a klutz. It was obvious her slightly shaking hands were the cause, but that happened naturally. "Sorry! I'll get that." She bent down and reached the fork. Once she reappeared from underneath the table her cheeks were flushed red. Why must I always embarrass myself?

[chelsey]

lorrainemercier

district ( f o u r )

Fish in District Four was nothing out of the ordinary, in fact, daily life would be weird without it. But the warmth that spread through her guest's face settled Lorraine's uneasy thoughts at the stereotypical dinner. "Lorraine this is so delicious!"

The redhead laughed lightly, waving off the genuine compliment. "It's honestly no big deal."

"Did you teach yourself how to cook?"

More like I taught myself how to survive.

Instinctively, Lorraine glanced at Tim, wondering if the dark years began to stir inside of him as well. He stared at the fish, picking and shoving it around in his plate with his fork. Yes, he was definitely remembering those days.

The day where her mother abandoned them to strive on their own. The days where Tim had to disappear out of his daughters' lives just to put food on the table. The days where Lorraine became the authority figure of the house at a young age. The day Rachel died.

A chilling shiver ran up her spine, racking her body uncontrollably.

Luckily for Lorraine, Lenoura's silver fork crashing to the ground covered up the sudden calamity. The sixteen year old rose from her seat to retrieve a new fork for the spoiled one while Lenoura apologized with a blush in her cheeks. She placed the fork in the sink and placed the new one by Lenoura's side. After her earlier break down, Lorraine wanted to prevent typical blunders to build up into a huge embarrassment for her new friend. It was just a fork, after all.

Taking it the easy way, she lightly giggled it off - deeming it no more than a simple slip up. "It's fine, accidents always happen." As to Lenoura's previous question, Lorraine felt that it would be rude to not address it. But, how to comment on the subject without revealing as so much of a sob story? It was obvious that the blonde already had a burden placed onto her fragile shoulders, why bother to add onto the pile? Carefully choosing her words, she spoke, "As for my cooking abilities, back then, my responsibilities consisted of filling in the gap of my mother. Cooking was just a minor part of this." Lorraine's emerald eyes flickered to her father's pair, who - even after all these years - still winces with pain at the mention of his lost wife. However, with his years of practicing to put up a strong front for his children, he easily composed himself in nearly seconds - the pain only evident in a mere glimpse. One blink, and you'd missed it.

Since Lorraine was up for anything but talking about her own history, she turned the conversation to her friend. "Well, tell us about your family. If you'd like."

[Lenoura]

Louder than Sirens...Louder than Bells

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"As for my cooking abilities, back then, my responsibilities consisted of filling in the gap of my mother. Cooking was just a minor part of this."

It would have been polite to listen to the redheaded girl with her full attention, and yet Noura couldn't. The words carried a somber story, one Len was all too familiar with. She had too lost her mother, and like Lorraine she needed to fill a very large and important gap. But what she was saying wasn't important.

...It was Tim.

The wise and charming man was as easily read as one of the antique and exquisite books that lined his living room walls. It had been a minute expression, and yet strikingly powerful all the same. At the mention of the mother that was lost his eyes winced ever so slightly, and Lenoura could feel the black hole in her center ache and cry. Her father had looked just like him when Noura took up caring for him and Dewey. The swimmer desperately wanted to reach across the table and squeeze his hand. She knew how important physical comfort was and this man and his daughter both shared a scarring past.

As quickly as it had came however, it was gone in a matter of seconds when the lovely girl across the table opened her mouth once again."Well, tell us about your family. If you'd like."

Instinctively the blonde reached for her new fork and brought her attention to the plate in front of her. It was happening again. She was beginning to enclose herself in the shell she built whenever the topic of conversation switched to her. It wasn't as if the hazel-eyed girl didn't want to answer, for indeed she did. It was just...hard.

She swirled the silverware in an entrancing fashion on the plate as she took small breathes to calm herself down. It's ok to share Len. They understand you.Her mind knew just what to say.

"My family consists of me, my six year old brother Dewey and my father. He's a fisherman and I sell wares from the sea in the town square." She was trying to shy away from it, but suddenly fell victim to the image of her mother in her mind. She would be disappointed in Len if she wasn't completely truthful with these people. Gripping onto her fork for support she continued. "My mother passed when I was eleven during childbirth. It was devastating, but just like you Lorraine, I had to fill the gap. I've been the "mother" figure ever since."

Tears built up in her brown flecked eyes, but she fought them back with a smile. "He looks just like her. It's very beautiful."

Lifting her head she stared into the eyes of her fellow hosts. She wasn't going to be shy anymore; not with them.

[chelsey]

lorrainemercier

district ( f o u r )

Lorraine kept her gaze transfixed on the twirling fork in Lenoura's pale hand, knowing that her friend's eyes must've been filled with pain. Talking about your broken family would, undoubtedly, be hard for Lenoura. If she would tear up at merely mentioning her mother, earlier, then in what state would she be in when she actually had to go in depth about the matter? No matter how long ago, a loss was a loss. Lorraine, above anyone, knew this.

"My family consists of me, my six year old brother Dewey and my father. He's a fisherman and I sell wares from the sea in the town square." These two simple facts were no surprise to the redhead. The weary but mature way Lenoura carried herself could immediately snap to the image of raising a younger sibling, and, not only that, but taking care of her father as well. As for the fisherman part, the redhead couldn't put her finger on anyone in particular that she knew that was not a fisherman - besides the mayor, of course. The statement at her father's profession made the sixteen year old want to slightly giggle, the laugh bubbling up inside of her like boiling water. Lorraine's own father was a fisherman too, and she wouldn't be surprised if he had ever met the blonde's dad. But the next flinching statement hushed all signs of a giggle, and washed it over with a look of sorrow and sympathy.

Lorraine had already assumed the conclusions that Lenoura had to fill in that blank space for the good of her family's daily strife - but, admitting the position out loud took a bravery that only the humble could possess. The redhead felt her heart sink as she watched the salty dew drops collect at the line of her friend's hazel eyes. Her fumbling hands grappled at the fork as if it was a pillar preventing her from breaking down, and, considering the circumstances, it probably was.

"He looks just like her. It's very beautiful."

The pianist's neck tightened from the suppressing of sympathetic tears as Lenoura gave a strong smile to hold back her own. The sixteen year old grasped Lenoura's clenched hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze for comfort. She looked over at Tim, a small smile spreading on her lips as she saw him quickly wipe a tear from his own eye.

"Well, Lenoura," He said, first making sure that his voice was steady and strong. "You and Dewey are welcome here anytime." And as a new, glistening tear sprung up from his green eyes once more, he stood up in a hurried fashion - wanting to leave before his daughter and her friend could witness him crying. Lorraine placed her hands over her lips as he shakily bid them goodnight and rushed off to his bedroom, book in hand and his dinner in the other.

Turning back to the blonde, she, for the first time tonight, found herself at a loss for words. This sweet and humble girl had been nothing but honest and genuine with her tonight, and, yet, Lorraine felt like she kept a secret hidden from her. Would it be right to continue on with the night without even a whisper of Rachel? Would it be right to let Lenoura go off without knowing the redhead's true bitterness that clawed in the pit of her heart?

She locked her eyes on a small photo of Rachel sitting on a near by table.

With pools of sorrow forming in her eye lids, she took a large breath and spoke with calm but quiet words. "I haven't been completely honest with you tonight, Lenoura." This is an okay start, isn't it? Placing her hands in her lap and staring at the scratches on the wooden table, Lorraine continued with a feverish rapidness, wanting to get it over with already. "I. . . My sister. She died, too."

OOC: I suck. My replies are getting slower and slower. Forgive mee! D;