The Storm Has Passed [Open]

[killz4food]

i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff393/Wesley_Ellis/DamienwatersOfdistrict4.jpg [/img]

So that was it. It was all done. The reapings had flown overhead of him once again, migrating up to the capitol, picking up the strays and throwing them into an evil place where there are no friends. And no friends means fighting, which was the soul purpose if the games. Well, battle. Games were meant to be fun, not demented and sick. But what could I do. There was nothing anyone could do. So I left the town square and headed down to my favorite place, the docks.

He stopped at is house though. The cold was already biting at him, going to the docks with the ocean would only get colder. So I stepped in the house and grabbed my sweater, biding farewell to my father. I wrapped the sweater around me, grateful for the little warmth it provided since the incident, and headed towards the docks. But I couldn't help the thought of being guilty for some reason. But why? It's not like a could have thrown my self up there and volunteer. There were rules, and I didn't want to break them. Breaking the rules would lead to punishment which at the time my family could not afford.

When I arrived a the docks I automatically went to grab my pole. The water was definitively to cold for spearing and the net was a two person job. So it was up to the line to bring in the next days dinner. Dinner. Father was probably wondering where I was. Dinner was probably ready now. But I would tell him that I was just out training for the next years games. No biggie. He would buy it then have a drink and go to bed. Usual routine. Never changed. Never will. As I cast out I looked around only to see a dark figure somewhere in the Distance.

"Probably just a fisher" I muttered. [/size]

[Nofo]

The words would never be seen again. Pale fingers felt the sharp bite of a winter breeze as they let go of the pages of a book she’d never read. Fitting, she thought to herself as she watched the thin sheets flutter in the wind, finally hitting the water a few hundred feet out. After all, it is Reaping Day. The day of change and endings. Rowan Duncan blinked a few times, adding another line in her head then quickly pretending it never happened. Or new beginnings.

[/b][/color] Rowan did not believe anything good could come out of these things, so why was she suggesting this?

She hadn’t known them, nor had she wanted to know them. Being eighteen, it was her last chance. Now, she was free and would never have to worry for her own life again. No, she’s not free. She’s trapped forever in a prison. Rowan was unable to ever admit it to herself that she was lonely. Rowan pushed everyone away who ever tried to know her. Mother’s dead because of it. All the teen with the bleached blonde hair and too much make-up will ever be is unhappy. Unhappy is a way of life. It absorbs everything you’ll ever come in contact with, sucking it from the air. Winter clouds added to the allusion as she fell into the sand, her book with fifty missing pages falling a few feet away.

Later, she’ll go out with a brave face and party with people she calls friends. Somber celebrations for yourselves while you pretend to mourn teens you’ve never met. At some point, she registers people nearby.[/size][/color][/center][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[killz4food]

i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff393/Wesley_Ellis/DamienwatersOfdistrict4.jpg [/img]

Damien jumped and let dropped his pole into the ocean only to draw back the memories of hypothermia. He swore aloud then looked at the boy. [/color]

"Pardon?" Damien was confused in the moment of shock and remembrance. Not only did he loose a fish but a perfectly good line. And he wasn't going to jump in and get it a second time. No not over a pole.

[Snareroll]

So, I've dodged another one, Ariana thought after the reaping. The "lucky" girl who was chosen as tribute seemed weak. Unprepared. Yet nobody volunteered, including herself. She knew she would be in for a fight when she got home. She had seen the look in her dads eyes when his daughter didn't volunteer. She had to get away, at least for the day. She would have to have a pretty good excuse this time to avoid more problems with him.

After the reaping was dismissed, she wasted no time heading to the beach. A day like today, she was sure to be alone right? Think again. There were others there, just great. She walked along the beach, staying distant from the others. Normally she'd have already stricken up a conversation, but she just wasn't in the mood. They wouldn't understand.

Even though she dodged this reaping, she knew her luck would run out. She still had three more years to get chosen. Besides, either way she only had two options. Volunteer by age 18, or be disowned by her father. She was still trying to decide which was worse. If only the Capitol didn't start these games. Then her life would be great. She thought, Oh well, the important part is living another year I guess. I can run, but I can't hide.

[Kheft]

We're here where the daylight begins
The fog on the streetlight slowly thins
Water on water's the way
The safety of shoreline fading away


It was if we were drawn here, we children of the ocean, who found solace in it's nearness. When all the world collapses in on us, at least we still have its soothing song, no? This night as we all grieve for our two tributes, we find ourselves at its shores once more. Whether we are feeling the loss of them as a loved one, or merely feeling our own mortality at today's brush with death… it fills our minds.

Sam idly observed her own footsteps in the sand, weaving an uneven path down to the water's edge. The shadowy figures of four other kids were framed against the silvered waves, solitary as each was lost in their own thoughts, yet aware of one another with an unusual solidarity. Perhaps they each felt a subconscious need to not be alone tonight?

Regardless of the driving cause, she abandoned her lonely pacing and approached where two shapes were converging. Hugging her threadbare coat closer and stuffing her hands into her armpits she peered at the two shapes that turned out to be boys a few years older than her whom she cast curious glances at.

"So…live to fight another day?"

The word 'fight' seemed so hilariously inappropriate since no one ever did anything like fighting…only lie down and wait to die, that she burst into quiet laughter. Realizing she presented an appearance of nigh insanity so she hurriedly tamped it back with a subdued hiccup and dug the toe of her boot into the icy sand.

"Me too I guess… first reaping and all.

[killz4food]

i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff393/Wesley_Ellis/DamienwatersOfdistrict4.jpg [/img]

"N...no it's fine. I have an extra one somewhere on the dock." Damien looked around frantically. He wasn't scared, but more or less shocked. It was the reaping. People didn't usually talk. Carers who's name wasn't drawn moped around town. Family members who had their children's name reaped cried. Other's just went along sulking and feeling guilty. But what for truthfully. There was nothing to feel guilty for really, but everyone did.

"Thank you though." Damien wasn't sure whether to offer this kid his sweater or start a conversation or leave the docks and take his little boat out. Damien looked around and saw more kids arrive, first a girl, then two more. But it was the docks. This is were people came to sulk or fish or just talk about problems. It was the docks. And since it was the reapings a lot of the three happened.

[Snareroll]

Ariana was lost in thought and the world around her faded away. However, it wasn't long until the cold brought her back to her senses. Ariana looked around and realized that another girl, probably around 12 or 13, had joined them. More small talk was made, she thought the Reaping was mentioned a couple times. The words "slip through" used to described it. She cringed. Are people really so concerned with fame and fortune that they forget what these games are? Death, savagery, murder.

"Slip through? If you want to be reaped so bad why don't you just volunteer?" she retorted. Instantly she regretted it. The subject of careers were such a touchy subject for her. She just didn't get why people would willingly do that. Do they have the bloodlust to enjoy killing no matter the risk of death? No, as far as she cares they're suicidal. And her father wanted her dead.

[Kheft]

Sam tipped her head birdlike to one side and eyed the older boy up and down.

Brooke's age. What did he say… I made it? What was that supposed to mean?

He looked placid to her, as though the day's events were far removed from his own interests and worries. Did he have so little to fear from being reaped? Well, he was big enough, likely one of those boys who trained since childhood for such a possibility.

…Careers

"Twice, actually," she returned. Without pausing to see what effect the mild retort had, Sam crossed her legs and flopped onto the sand, sending small sprays pelting against Gage's legs. She suppressed a smirk and stretched out on the dune, tucking her arms behind her head and glancing upwards Heavy fog from the evening was shredded in places where the wind pierced its cover and allowed small glimpses of the frosty stars coating the sky like pure crystal sugar the baker sprinkled on her cookies.

The thought caused her stomach to growl loudly, and she pressed a palm against the shrunken midsection. Winter was hard all around in the fishing village, and the handful of dried fruit from this morning had long since ceased to content her body with its meager caloric offering. Someone could just about scrub clothes on my ribs...

Sam dug her toes into the sand, looking for any last hidden speck of warmth from the afternoon sun, but all she was rewarded with was an errant wave that managed to skitter its way far up the beach and gnawed at her toes with razor teeth of ice water. She gave a shocked yelp and yanked her feet back, glaring out at the darkened waters with a disembodied feeling of betrayal.

With a last disgruntled sigh, she glanced back at her company, nearly forgotten accustomed as she was to solitary amusement. Her lips felt sticky with salt, and she licked them, searching for something to say that would break the oppressive quiet.

"So then, any of you lose someone to the reaping?" She regretted the moment it had slipped out. It was rare *not* to have lost someone to the reaping…and rarer still to want to discuss it with a stranger.

Her words, however, were drowned out by the sudden outburst from one of the older girls, the loud noise causing her to blink owlishly.

[✨ zozo.]

quartz stonewall
distict four

6 down. 1 to go. One more, and she'd be free.

If free was the right word. She'd still be trapped under the thumb of the Capitol, never quite free. Quartz feels their eyes watching, observing, making sure everything was perfect, just the way they liked it. Panem was a prison, where you could pretend to live a normal life, pretend to be escaped of their clutches. But they'd always be there, keeping you in line and stopping anyone who even blinks out of turn. And we all know what 'stop' means in the Capitol dictionary,

[/color] she thought bitterly.

Quartz wasn't going to lie (though she was a master of deception) and say that she hadn't worried, for a split second. Hadn't squeezed her eyes tightly, prayed with all her being that it was someone, anyone else's name in the crowd of girls she stood in, than her own. And when the syllables didn't match hers and her name wasn't echoing in her ears, she would sigh, relief drowing out the terror. She'd be home to Daddy yet another year.

As soon as Quartz had reached home, she'd fallen into her father's arms and clung to him tightly. Her mother merely watched on from the window as he comforted her, stroking her hair and offering to make her a cup of her favourite hot chocolate. As usual, Quartz barely registered her mother's presence, only wanting Daddy. Only wanting him to reassure her that she was home, she was safe.

After her initial termoil of emotion had been washed down with the warm, chocolaty liquid, followed by a tiny marshmallow (the other she offered to her father), she had moped around the house and tried not to think how terrible the two families of the chosen tributes would be feeling. What their friends would be feeling. Call her selfish, because she was, but Quartz was too thankful that she was sitting in her house instead of a Capitol train carriage right this very moment than to bother thinking about it. Why waste emotion when it wasn't neccesary? She was home.

Now, she saught after her second home. The water. It was freezing, especially at this time of year, but Quartz yearned to feel it's soothing presence around her. Welcoming it's calming effects, submerging her body down into the sea and pretend for a moment that there weren't Capitol eyes watching her, pretend that nothing above the surface but her father existed. It was childish, but Quartz, as stubborn as ever, didn't care.

A groan escaped her mouth as she found the beach she was expecting to be deserted dotted with figures. Quartz ran a hand through her long blonde hair and sighed, planning on turning back and finding another beach close to home, when a raised voice caught her ears, picked up with the wind.

"Slip through? If you want to be reaped so bad why don't you just volunteer?"

Quartz's mischieviosness got the better of her. If she couldn't be alone to clear her thoughts, at least other people fighting would entertain her for a little. Distract her consuming thoughts. A smug smile played on her lips as she pattered down to the rocks, perching on one a tad higher than the rest of the group.

This should be fun, she thought with a grin.


[/center][/size][/justify]

[Kheft]

Glancing between the two, she could feel the growing urge to escape, emotions were raw and close to the surface in every face she looked at. Skin silvered by the moon, their features were pinched with a full spectrum of feeling from anger, to guilt, to fear. People were looking for a fight tonight -- a way to burn away what they were feeling. Sam had no energy to fight, she just wanted to hole up somewhere quiet until all of this swept back out with the tide. Yet, for some reason she didn't stand and leave… maybe she was afraid to be alone.

A lull in the conversation was interrupted by the pervasive sound of her stomach groaning again. Sam blushed. Everyone went hungry, and it wasn't something to feel shame over -- in fact the tall career boy looked as if he was ready for the summer months -- still her own lot wasn't something she particularly wanted to draw attention to.

Jumping to her feet and pacing away from the group, Sam let the sting of rime-frozen air cool her hot cheeks. Along the water's edge, there was a fringe of scattered seaweed, tossed up by the risen tide and now exposed as it began an inexorable creep back out to the horizon. She scooped up a handful and washed away as much gritty sand as she could. Her fingers ached with the cold, curling towards her palms with the cramping discomfort. She shoved the wet hand into her armpit to warm it and used the other to stuff a fistful of the seaweed into her mouth. The slightly bitter flavor wasn't pleasant, but it would quiet the complaints of her belly.

That secured, she scampered back up the beach towards the abandoned company of the others, her jaw busily chewing at the coarse vegetation. The little air bladders on the plant popped between her teeth each time she bit down, adding an unsettling feel to the food. It felt as though everyone was looking at her once again, and she *was* the only one eating anything. Guiltily Sam held up a palm-full of the wet strands in offering to the others.

[Snareroll]

Ariana had regretted the shout as soon as she let it out. Not only did she interrupt two people midsentence, but it turns out the boy wasn't even a career. Just great, she thought as she noticed another girl come over, probably attracted by the fight. Normally she didnt get angry that easily, but the thought of going back home had her on edge. She quickly realized this and quieted down a bit, "Sorry, it's a touchy subject I guess."

Soon, the younger girl had grabbed a snack. Though not the most delicious thing at all, it would fill her stomach a bit. She soon held them out and offered everyone one. Ariana nodded and took one, "Thanks, this will help a lot. After the reaping, I can tell food will be scarce for me at home. She took a small bite, savoring her food for the day. Her dad sure as hell won't give her anything after she didn't volunteer.

[✨ zozo.]

quartz stonewall
distict four

As she perched on the rock, the light winter breeze playing with her blonde hair and chilling her bare arms, Quartz shuddered and rubbed her hands over skin, now wishing that she'd brought something warmer to wear. Adjusting her position a little, hoping to shield a little more of her body from the wind, she listened quietly to the other's conversations and watched them with squinting blue eyes.

"Sorry, it's a touchy subject I guess" the girl who had shouted at one of the boys replied, quieting down. Everybody was on-edge after reapings, and although she took the emotion well, Quartz understood that everyone experienced it differently. It was natural to be snappy and angered more than usual, which was what she herself was often like. What she really wanted was to clear her head, but was too interested in how the others would respond to the girl's comment.

As if on queue, the boy shrugged and replied “No big deal, it’s easy to make a Career outta me. I guess I could be, whichever way you define it.” Quartz felt his eyes travel towards her and land on her smug smile, assessing her. She stared back, almost wanting to wave, but decided against it based on his expression. Probably wonders if I'm a Career. Hah she thought with an eyeroll. Quartz used to go to training religiously, but soon got bored once she'd learnt the basics. Besides, everyone there was determined to show off, to gloat about how far they could throw a spear or how heavy the weights that they lifted were. Sure, she liked attention, but all the egotistical show-off's made her extremely annoyed. She'd only have one more reaping to go through anyway, and the odds for her getting reaped were very slim.

Another girl sitting by the beach, a bit younger looking that the other, had grabbed a handful of seaweed and held it out to the girl who had yelled and the boy who had replied. Although Quartz was too high up to hear the full conversation, she watched her and the boy receive the offering and take a small bite, picking up a few words here and there. Something about food, and reapings, and scarce. Quartz guessed the girl's parents may not be pleased that she didn't volunteer, as many a parent was. Quartz never understood why, apart from the supposed pride and honour that parents of Careers rambled on about, anyone would want to send their child off to almost certain death. The thought of her father, or even her mother, wishing that fate upon her sent chills down her spine that weren't from the wind. She would almost feel sorry for the girl, if she cared more about other people. Bitter as she was, Quartz did think of the food that she had managed to consume whilst at home, and felt appreciative of it as she tucked her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, staring out at the ocean.

The rising winds began to grow louder in her ears, deciding to patter down a few meters below where she sat and find a more comfortable, warm position instead, deciding on a flat rock that blocked out all but a few escaping gusts of wind. But she was at the beach, after all, and wind was to be expected. She hoped that something exciting would happen, unless she may leave and find another, more secluded spot. Her limbs itched for the water, and needed to swim before the sun went down.

[/size][/justify]

[Kheft]

There was only so much distance you could get out of a conversation. They all stood around aimlessly, pretending not to care, but not wanting to leave just yet. As dusk lowered further over the beach, Sam thought seriously about leaving. It was getting only colder, and with little cover from the wind, she was likely to burn more calories keeping up her body temperature than was wise. The seaweed was gone. She licked the last bit of salt from her fingertips, and it burned her raw, chapped lips. A particularly vicious gust of air whipped off the water and practically sliced through her clothing. Sam's entire body shook, and she took a few subtle steps to one side, sidling her body behind the big not-career. She settled into the sand, tucked into a spot downwind from the rock where he sat, close enough to benefit from the protection of his larger frame.

Sam gave a small sigh of relief as a bit of the numbness left her limbs. She drew knees up towards her chin and tucked her arms close. A small bit of driftwood lay discarded on the sand in reach, it's twisted shape reminiscent of a horn from one of the fantastical animals that Brooke would draw for her. She picked it up and idly dug the end into the sand, scrawling a little picture on the flat space beside her knee.

Minutes passed, and the sound of the waves combined with the increasing cold were making her groggy and her head felt heavy. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sam knew she should find her way home, but the dullness of her thoughts drowned the instinct out. She looked down at the crude drawing… it was a little fish caught on a hook. For some reason it made her slightly nauseated.

[Kheft]

Sam blinked owlishly. An odd commentary on her life that the first thing the older boy's actions gave rise to was a cynical consideration of what he could possibly expect to gain from it. Having methodically ruled out the handful of possibilities, she found herself with only one thought remaining -- he feels guilty. Over what, Sam couldn't decide, but she knew that her slight stature often gave folks the impression they ought to protect her. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn't…it was certainly a useful thing for her.In this instance, it means I won't freeze to death.

The bulky sweater still carried a bit of body-heat with it, and the thick, nubby wool was oddly comforting. It carried the musty smell of salt and fish, a comforting familiarity. It's previous owner seemed to try and suppress his increased shivering, and Sam felt a twinge of her own guilt. With only a moment's hesitation, she scooted closer, placing her back to his and letting the contact share warmth. Her words were now quiet in the dark, a softly murmured thanks.

"This isn't really the best place to keep warm, darling." His deeper voice made her back vibrate.

"No, I don't suppose it is…but it seemed as good a place as any to come and ignore the obvious. Cold helps with that, don't you find?"

[Snareroll]

"By definition, Id probably be considered a career too, but nothing is black and white like that. There's always the shades of grey in between," she responded calmer than before. However, the panic still lingered in her eyes after the reaping, frantically trying to think up an excuse for why she didn't volunteer. Tonight, no excuse could save her, she just had to think up one that would buy her another year.

She began to shiver slightly as the air just kept getting colder. She didn't care though, she was used to it after long nights fishing or training. Training. Oh, how she loathed that word. It would be fine to do as a precaution in case you're reaped, but when you know you'll have to use this later its terrible. Countless hours spent throwing spears or knives and for what? So she could just die in the arena? Of course, there was always the option of living on the streets after 18, but that had an even lower chance of survival than the hunger games.

Ariana pulled her sweatshirt's hood up, trying to keep her ears warm. The little girl seemed to be taking the weather hard, and Ariana thought about passing her her sweatshirt. However, the older boy gave her his sweater. Well that was nice of him, she thought as she put her hands in the sweatshirt pockets. Silence followed. Tensions were high after the reaping and conversation was much harder to make. She thought about leaving, but going home was the last thing she wanted to do right now.