She's a Rainbow [Rook]

[cyrus]

::::

She comes in colors ev'rywhere;

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow

::::

The mood had been a little down in the shop lately. I supposed it was because we hadn’t been selling as much—the summer months are usually pretty poor for us—and Mrs. Elderwood, fat as she is doesn’t take to the heat well. She gets to screaming at us girls more when we miss a stitch or if we wrap the tape around someone’s waist wrong. She’ll get real red in the face and you can almost see the veins stand up on her face, with her jowls flappin’ about like she’s about to have a coronary. Of course, it takes all I can do to not laugh at her, ‘cause she’s this stumpy old lady shrieking like a junkyard dog at all of us, who are working as fast we can to crank out pieces for the districts.

Could have been the games, too. We’d lost both of our tributes in the first few days, which made the rest of the viewings felt like dirges. Having to sit there and watch while some other districts tributes slashed and heaved at one another, splattering blood everywhere wasn’t exactly my cup of tea. I did like the bit about the feast though. At least that part was exciting, left a couple of ‘em dead and not the ones that I expected, anyway. And oh, the kraken

[/color], that was something everyone would be talking about until the days that they died. But even still, I don’t feel much for the games without having someone to represent us. Feels like we’ve just been left alone, waitin’ for the train to come but it’s late, and no one knows when it’s coming.

I didn’t know Chloe or Pandora. I mean, they were my age and I reckon I recognized their faces—ain’t too many people in district 8 so we may have said somethin’ to one another—but I kind of thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t know either of them. Couldn’t imagine having to lose one of my friends… I have a hard enough time making it through the days here in the shop without having a laugh with Leslie Anne. Or if I lost Daniel—god I’d be a wreck—only one more reaping for him, though, so we’re almost past that. He’s the only one that makes the viewings bearable sometimes. He’ll look at me when I’m shaking or shivering on account of something particularly gruesome, and screw up his face, and I’ll go from shaking from fright to laughter. And of course everyone shushes me so it makes me look like a terrible person, but I keep laughing and snorting while he wraps an arm around me and I feel all right.

The heat in the shop made the hair around my forehead slide out of the bun I’d tied it into and a few stray hands dropped into my face. I was working the front of the shop today, and as I waited for a few more customers, I was stitching up a piece that was destined for one of the older ladies of the district. I would say that I’m probably one of the better seamstresses in the shop, probably because I’ve got long fingers and thin hands. Some of the other girls have got those sausage fingers, and it gives them trouble doing the particularly difficult pieces. Today though, even my fingers were sweating, and I winced as I pricked myself with the needle. Wish I could just put my head in a bucket of ice right now.

The sound of the bell atop the door signaled a customer, and I licked my lips to get out a greeting before Mrs. Elderwood could screech at me to do it. “Welcome to Elderwood’s! How can I help yah!” I bring my arm up to my brow to wipe away some of the sweat before whipping around to face whoever had entered. The heat wasn’t any reason for to be glum, anyway. After all the hard work we had to do, it was nice to get to please someone once in a while.

-----

Narratin’

Thinkin’

Speakin’

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[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[rook]

r u b i k + w o o d a r d s

_{i know it's gonna take some time
for you to feel that it's alright
i'm not making people choose a side
but i don't mind you trying}

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

<sub>I can't get my head of of the Games. It's unusual, even after Pandora died I found myself hooked to those he was close to. Cyrus, Jana and most of all Destiny. Cyrus' death hurt, I didn't expect it to but it really did. Cyrus was Pan's last friend, he meant a lot to me as well, it was good to see Pandora connecting before he took his last breath.

I've come to terms with Pan's death, at least I think I have. I still cry at night, but I'm surprisingly okay during the day. I know he'd want us to just carry on with our lives, as if he were there. To be honest, it's hard to notice a difference apart from the massive gap on the sofa where he used to sit all day. It's one less mouth to feed, so Hope's been getting her strength back too. Since my incident on the roof we haven't spoken much... But I understand that. I stabbed Pandora in his nonexistent back, it'll take her a few days to forgive me.

I've taken her into town today, we need to get some clothes in advance for the 61st Victory Tour. It's a little premature seeing as the Games are still ongoing, but you need to be prepared according to our mayor. He wants Hope and I to be by Pan's coffin when whoever wins comes to District Eight. I really hope it's Destiny, I really do... But part of me wants it to be Jae or Elon... Just so I can get the satisfaction of witnessing their eyes go hollow when they see a second Pandora Woodards, like seeing a ghost. That is one thing I look forward to.

We enter a clothes shop, the name goes over my head and Hope's already feeling some fabrics with her soft hands. She knows a lot, she wants to work in this kind of business. I narrow my eyes; maybe I can get her a part-time job here, some experience for no pay, it will help her long-term. Yet she's still not over losing Pan, it may be too soon to push her into industry.

"Don't touch that..." I lure her away from the expensive stuff, these high-end fabric places can be pretty snooty with lower residents, but the workers are just normal kids usually, so I doubt we'll have to deal with a snobby manager. I sigh and look at the nicer clothes in my range. My Reaping shirt is getting small, I could always wear Pan's as he is... was... taller and bigger than me... But I'm not up for wearing my dead twin's clothes.

"Welcome to Elderwood’s! How can I help yah?!"</sub>

[/i] Asks the girl working at the till. Hope is browsing over the other side of the shop, so it's just me and the girl with the very Eightish accent. My voice used to be quite Eightish, but it's sort of crossed to more Fourian, we've ancestors over there and my Dad's always had a twinge of Four in his voice. Pan had a distinct Eightian accent, more gruff than mine from all the smoke at the factory, not to mention the drugs he did. Morphine once or twice, I'm sure.

Yup. Definitely not snooty

"I'm looking for something smart, high-end Reaping material... Sizes for late-teens?" I ask, not really being able to find anything for myself. She could probably get me something nicer than I could find, so it makes more sense this way. She hasn't recognized me as Pandora, I can only hope she hasn't watches the Games, as I've had strange looks of pity all week. Several people have even come round to offer us food. Dad's been too drunk to turn them away, but I've accepted anything given to us, we're in a dark place right now.

The last thing I need is pity.[/color][/sub][/blockquote][/blockquote]

---

<sub>narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: Rubik's acceptance.
theme: Newton Faulkner - "Feels Like Home"</sub>

[cyrus]

::::

She comes in colors ev'rywhere;

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow

::::

It’s not one, but two—a record for this afternoon—that stumble into the shop. “Well hey there, aren’t you just the cutest little thing—

[/b]“ I start as I get down to a knee and brush up my skirt to get on her eye level. I’ve always loved little ones, something strange inside me I guess, considering I ne’er had any of my own little siblings. I suppose I just like to play all the imaginary games with my cousins and laugh right along with them. I like to disappear into that world every once in a while, just so that I can get away from it all. But my voice cuts out when I eye the boy that’s come in with her. You’d have to be a fool not to recognize him straightaway—one of the Woodards boy’s, spittin’ image of the one that had just died—he had a twin, but I’d never even thought we’d cross paths.

I try not to gawk. The little ‘un must be his kid sister, or related to him somehow. They had to be going through it hard enough, what with everyone reminding them every waking moment of their loss. It was something that no one talked about. We weren’t allowed to, really. The capitol made us send people into the games, our brothers, sisters, and even sometimes mothers, but we weren’t supposed to feel anything for them if they died. Nope, grieving was only allowed behind closed doors and in whispers. Because we’re not supposed to be that close to anyone, anyway. ‘Cause the capitol could take any of us away at any second, and that would be that. Can’t even say nothin’ to the people who killed him, since he died by that crab.

“Oh… well, we gots a lotta stuff that you might like. You looking fer something bright?” I smooth out my skirt as I stand up to face him. In another moment I’m already leafing through a few shirts and jackets. Maybe it was best to just hide the fact that I knew who he was—he didn’t want to know me any more than I was supposed to want to know him. I gave him a quick smile as I pulled out something tinged green and held it up to him. “Not sure what you like though—mind if I um, mind if I uh…” I stumbled through my words as I pulled out my measuring tape as I stare from him to the little one milling around. “ And it’s all right, ain’t nothing here that she could break, I can sew any tear you could possibly make. Trust me. ”

I give the little girl a wink as I stretch out the measuring tape with a laugh. “You’re not ticklish are ya?” I try my best to keep things light and bright, to not ask what it was he was buying these clothes for, as if I didn’t already know. We all knew. We would all be in attendance during the victory tour, we’d all be staring at the face of the boy or girl that had taken Chole or Pandora from us. Whether they had done so inadvertently, there wasn’t anyone left in the games that had sewn good will with District 8, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna be giving any sort of salute.

“Unless you already know your measurements, then we can start with somethin’ and have it tailored. You’ll be lookin’ great for the victory tour and nice and sharp—[/b]“Of course, that was something that I shouldn’t have said. Has my mouth gotten the better of me now? I stare around to see if anyone has poked their heads out from the back room, but even the presence of two customers looking through some of our more expensive collection hadn’t brought the girls out front. Where’s Leslie Anne when I need her? Even Mrs. Elderwood yelling at me would be a help![/color].

With a stupid grin I brush another strand of hair out of my eyes and laugh. “It sure is hot, huh?[/color]” I want to say something, anything to get us away from the elephant in the room, but I’m no good at it. Instead I just snap the measuring tape out again, ready to just shut up and do my job. Which is prolly what he’s gonna tell me anyway.[/i] I cross my eyes as I blow another loose strand out of my face. Or just a goofball. Take your pick, misser. After all, I’m used to being judged.

-----

Narratin’

Thinkin’

Speakin’

-----

[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[rook]

r u b i k + w o o d a r d s

_{i know it's gonna take some time
for you to feel that it's alright
i'm not making people choose a side
but i don't mind you trying}

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

_{"Oh… well, we gots a lotta stuff that you might like. You looking fer something bright?"}

[/i] She asks and I follow her around the store, Hope's occupied with the expensive stuff and I frown at her, she leaves the stuff alone. I can't be too soft with her, this is a key point in her life, Pan dying at this point in her life isn't exactly going to shape her in a good way. Hopefully she'll focus without Pandora dragging her down. But... What was it she said the other day? Pan was always there to make me smile... I haven't smiled in weeks.

"Not sure what you like though—mind if I um, mind if I uh…"[/i] She sees me looking at Hope in a transfixed gaze of worry and she beams. It's a little creepy. "It’s all right, ain’t nothing here that she could break, I can sew any tear you could possibly make. Trust me."[/i] She finishes, and I nod.
"Thanks..."

"You're not ticklish, are ya'?"[/i] She asks Hope with a wink, kneeling, almost patronizing. I can't help but frown at this, Hope's face is more polite or shy. Her eyes are concentrating and I can tell she's trying to produce words.
"I guess..."[/i] She produces.

She's thirteen years old, she doesn't need to be tickled...

The shop attendant still hasn't recognized me, despite looking me in the eyes. Maybe she's just being polite, I appreciate that. I'd like to live my life normally without being patronized every day.

"Unless you already know your measurements, then we can start with somethin’ and have it tailored. You’ll be lookin’ great for the victory tour and nice and sharp—"[/i] Her voice cuts out after 'sharp' and my eyes close. Shes does know me. Of course she does, everyone in the damn District does. Hope lets out a squeal, more of shock than of sadness, she's scared of what I'll say or do, so is the girl.

I say nothing for a while. The girl tries to lighten the mood and lets a faux laugh out.
"It sure is hot, huh?"[/i]

"To be honest I'd rather I didn't have to stand up there... But it's more for respect of my brother than recognition of a victor..." I say, explaining calmly. I'm not mad at her, she's been mostly kind to us both. Hope turns away and I continue, "But I'd appreciate anything that'd make me look smarter..." I actually manage a smile this time.

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

---

<sub>narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: --
theme: Newton Faulkner - "Feels Like Home"</sub>

[cyrus]

::::

She comes in colors ev'rywhere;

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow

::::

When the little one let out a squawk I knew I’d gone too far. It wasn’t supposed to be something to upset them. I mean, I just was trying to make them feel good about being up in front of everyone. It was the only thing that I knew that might even cheer me up if I had to go through it. But then I like the idea of being in front of a bunch of people, whatever the reason. I guess if it were about my brother’s death that would change things… that would make me angry… or hurt. I stare from the little one to the boy and put my measuring tape back into my apron pocket. The boy was quiet for a while, like he was figuring out the right way to yell at me. At least it was somethin’ that I deserved this time, to get yelled at. Poor guy doesn’t deserve all the trouble he must be going through.

[/i] But instead of a yell, he’s calm and collected.

“To be honest I'd rather I didn't have to stand up there... But it's more for respect of my brother than recognition of a victor...” I nod as I listen to him. There’s something remarkably strong about all that, something that keeps him held together even though he’s lost someone so close. I put my hands in my pockets nervously as I listen to him finish. “But I'd appreciate anything that'd make me look smarter...” And so I turn back toward the racks of pieces and start sliding my hands along the fabrics looking for something pretty for the young one. I find a creamy purple little dress and a smart little yellow number and turn to hand it to her, motioning toward the back of the shop.

“Y’all can try that on in the back, and there’ll be some ladies back there that will help you with these if you like either of ‘em.[/b]” I place the pieces atop the table nearby and let her decide—she was free to turn both of them down, of course—and look over at her brother. I’d have to find something special for him. He looked so much like his brother—well, being a twin and all—it made me wonder what his name was, what was he thinking, what would everyone else think when they saw him? I worked towards a rack of mens’ clothes and stared over at him sheepishly. I wasn’t supposed to ask them questions, unless they were repeat customers. Then I could chat with them about their names and what they did. But especially now, considering the situation, I doubted he would want a seamstress butting in on his business.

“What’s your favorite color?” I ask at last as I move to fix my hair from falling down yet again. Maybe I’m not allowed to know much about them, or anyone that comes in here really… but that doesn’t mean I can’t know a little bit about ‘em. I bring my hands down in front of me and stare up at his face—he’s quite tall in comparison to me—and give him a smile. I’m good at that, that’s what everyone always says. I can smile through the best and worst of things, ‘cause smiling is easy. ‘Cause even if things are a mess, there’s a little bit of somethin’ sneaking through to make it okay. “I feel like… well, maybe you’d look really good in a dark green. Somethin’ forest green… nice and strong, sharp, but not super flashy…”

I’m making all sorts of judgments about him already, aren’t I? It’s the trap that I fall into, thinking that maybe I know them on account of how I feel. I still have my brother though, and I never had a sister. But I do have a mother, and I did have a father. And all of us in the upper districts have seen our fair share of hardship, too. I just don’t want to make him feel like I’m pityin’ him. Nah, I want to help him out but I don’t want him to feel like I’m pushing for something. People get all mixed up when they throw in pity and do things for people they don’t even know. It’s like they expect to get something back by seeing someone else smile—they bring ‘em down doing that, and they’re already pretty low.

“O’ course you can take your time looking around if you want…[/b]” I back off now, edging back towards the counter, where I’d left the piece that I was working on earlier. “Just let me know—I um, my name is Ruby. You can just give a holler—either of you—and I’ll help you with what you need.” Maybe, maybe I could. ‘Cause sometimes it’s a lot harder to ask when nobody’s offered.

-----

Narratin’
Thinkin’
Speakin’
Listenin’

-----

[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[rook]

r u b i k + w o o d a r d s

_{i know it's gonna take some time
for you to feel that it's alright
i'm not making people choose a side
but i don't mind you trying}

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

_{It's awkward for a while, but then the girl wanders off to find some dresses for Hope. This makes my little sister perk up a little. She takes the light purple dress in one hand and the yellow one in the other, she weighs them up, it's evident she likes both. "Y’all can try that on in the back, and there’ll be some ladies back there that will help you with these if you like either of ‘em."}

[/i] The attendant confirms and Hope nods, following the finger of the older girl.

"What's your favorite color?"[/i] She asks me, now that Hope is gone the focus is on me. Do I want this? Do I really want to go through all the effort of looking smart for this mockery of a Victory Tour? I would rather wear my rags, I would prefer the Victor to see me for what I am: A poor working class boy with a dead twin at his side. The last thing I want is to be suited up.
"Crimson... I like Crimson..." I say, thinking of the many clothes of the years I've worn. Most were a dark red, differing from Pandora's blue tastes. It was easy to tell us apart, this way.

"I feel like… well, maybe you’d look really good in a dark green. Somethin’ forest green… nice and strong, sharp, but not super flashy…"[/i] She states, I trust her instinct, it's probably better than mine, so I nod slowly. Green? I never wear green, it's always been red for me and blue for Pan... But Pan's gone now... Maybe I should be more outgoing, trying new things. Green will be a symbol that I've grown, I've moved on.
"O’ course you can take your time looking around if you want…" She wanders back the the counter, she seems to be sewing something. I'm not really intrigued as to what, so much as how good she is at sewing. Hope's talented, but I need to see the standard that she needs to be at.
"No... Green sounds good..." I smile in return for one of hers.

"I um, my name is Ruby. You can just give a holler—either of you—and I’ll help you with what you need."[/i] She finishes just as Hope's head pokes around the corner, concealing her dress. Maybe she's half changed or something. She looks at me and coughs loudly.
"You both have the same name..." She giggles. I frown.
"And your point is?"
"You should probably date..." [/s]
"Hope!!" She giggles uncontrollably and disappears behind her corner.

It seems she's inherited some of Pandora's mischief. I narrow my eyes, it's just like Hope to have Pan rub off on her, it's not good and it's plain embarrassing.

Even after he's gone, he still finds a way to taunt me...

"Sorry about my sister... I'm Rubik, but yes... She calls me Rubie too..." I force a smile before coming straight out with the truth, "And to clear the air, I am the brother of Pandora Woodards, and I really don't care if you want to talk about him... There's a One in Four chance he's slept with you..." I say, before cussing under my breath.[/color][/sub][/blockquote][/blockquote]

---

<sub>narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: --
theme: Newton Faulkner - "Feels Like Home"</sub>

[cyrus]

::::

She comes in colors ev'rywhere;

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow

::::

The girl seemed pleased with my choices, which was nice on account of the fact that young girls usually were the hardest to please out of all my customers. The boy thinks for a moment as to what color he wants, and mentions “crimson.” I give a sideways glance and look at him, thinking that red just wouldn’t complement his rough appearance. He had a mess of brown hair, and searing brown eyes—crimson would detract from them—and his skin would look so washed out. But then, he was the customer, and I was just the attendant in a little sweatshop (literally, I was sweating buckets this afternoon) and so I retrieved a couple of jackets for him. One of them was a crimson color, deep red, with silver buttons and a tail. The other was dark green with golden buttons, with a closer cut making it tighter, and no tail.

I place the both of them on a rack near the boy and stand back again, arms folded over my front. I try not to look at him too much, though I can’t help with the curiosity. For days I’ve been watching the games with a sense of pride for our own Pandora Woodards. He was a warrior, a boy from eight that near every girl swooned over, and he had the fightin’ skills to prove it. He defended his allies, and even to the end, he sacrificed his life for a girl from a different district. Watching his body being carried out to the ocean had ruined me; I had my hand over my mouth, ready to fall apart then and there. Our dreams for a victor were all sewn up with the splash of the waves, and as that boy from six let him go, there were a few sobs from people in the room. And here was his brother—were they anything alike? He certainly was handsome like his brother, but what about anything else?

When the two of them began talking to one another, I blushed at the mention of datin’. I know it’s just a gentle poke between siblings, ‘specially since she’s so young and the two of us are close in age. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been with a boy before, either. There were a few while I had been in school, and one a few months ago that had even gotten me flowers and took me to get dinner like a real gentleman. But all of them had fumbling hands and kissed me too rough—I never did much more than take off my shirt—and now that I worked in the shop, I hadn’t really put much stock into seeing anyone at all. "Sorry about my sister... I'm Rubik, but yes... She calls me Rubie too..." I perked up at his name, though, thinking it was a funny coincidence that the two of us would have similar names. I didn’t know anyone else named Ruby. My ma said she had always wanted a girl, so she named me because I was her little jewel—and she called me Ruby. Strange, I know, considering it sounded like something out of the first district.

“And to clear the air, I am the brother of Pandora Woodards, and I really don't care if you want to talk about him... There's a One in Four chance he's slept with you..." I wasn’t expecting this—not to mention for him to get so fresh—that he was going to mention his brother. I had never been with Pandora Woodards, though I think I knew a few girls who had been. He’d had quite the reputation during the viewings, and though I had thought he was handsome I never dreamed about him in the same way the others did. No, the only man in my life at the moment that meant anything was Daniel, and he only played a boy half the time anyway. But I saw that this boy was opening up to me, so I was grateful. I smile again as I moved a little bit closer to him.

I look down at the ground for a moment before looking back at Rubik. It burned me up some that he was accusing me of having slept with his brother—defaming a dead boy in the same breath. How am I supposed to feel when you say something like that? Not all girls from district eight threw their legs up in the air for a cute boy. “I don’t speak ill of the dead you know, and you shouldn’t either. I didn’t know your brother but from what I saw he was a good man. And I had heard stories about his ways but I don’t know nothin’ about ‘em. I’m sorry he’s gone, truly… but you mightn’t want to ask every girl that’s tryin’ to talk to you about if they’ve slept with your brother.” And I know it hurts, I know that this is a lot coming from me, but if we are going to speak about his brother, I ain’t about to running his or my name through the mud.

[/i]

-----

Narratin’
Thinkin’
Speakin’
Listenin’

-----

[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[rook]

r u b i k + w o o d a r d s

_{i know it's gonna take some time
for you to feel that it's alright
i'm not making people choose a side
but i don't mind you trying}

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

<sub>I pretty much regret every word that just came out of my mouth, I mean talking about my brother like that... He's dead... It's almost like spitting on his grave. Sure, he had a lot of girls in his time, he may have bragged about all his encounters at the weekends, still... He's my brother and I love him, it's slimy for me to talk about him that way.

Rightly so, Ruby gives me a good what-for.
"I don’t speak ill of the dead you know, and you shouldn’t either. I didn’t know your brother but from what I saw he was a good man. And I had heard stories about his ways but I don’t know nothin’ about ‘em. I’m sorry he’s gone, truly… but you mightn’t want to ask every girl that’s tryin’ to talk to you about if they’ve slept with your brother.</sub>

[/i] Her voice is harsh and cutting but I do deserve it. I was out of line, I say a silent apology to my shadow, who I affiliate with Pandora since his passing, and then apologize to Ruby.
"I'm sorry... It's just-..." I pause, glancing at the crimson and green suits, they look ridiculously Capitolesque. I sigh, "It's been rough..." I cuss just in time for Hope to walk in, she shoots me a look that tells me to behave and heads over to Ruby.

She's wearing the yellow dress, holding the other one in her left hand and placing it on the side. She gives us a twirl and I comment on her poor choice of shoes. She's wearing boots, which don't go so well with the elegant number, to which she sticks her tongue out at me.
"We should wear happy colors... I like yellow..." She smiles brightly, almost as bright as her dress. I nod and walk over to my duo of suits. I wince at the colors, they're a bit too outrageous. Turning to Ruby, I weigh the suits in each hand.
"Don't you have anything more subtle?" I ask, hoping for a black jacket of some kind, some colors to brighten it up would be good.[/color][/sub][/blockquote][/blockquote]

---

<sub>narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: --
theme: Newton Faulkner - "Feels Like Home"</sub>

[cyrus]

::::
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
::::

"I'm sorry... It's just-... It's been rough...

[/b]" He’s been knocked down, I can see that. But he ain’t got no right fingering me for one of those girls that messed with his brother. I might have thought he was handsome, but I ain’t never been so fast and loose like that.[/color] I liked to drink and smoke, and I did that things that Leslie Anne did because it made me feel grown up. But I never rushed with boys. The ones around here weren’t worth talking to—bringing up things like this in the same breath as death—and so I mostly just fluttered my eyes and laughed whenever one of ‘em had puffed up their chest enough to say hello. Leslie Anne and Daniel would say I needed to give ‘em a chance, that there were a few good ‘uns, but I didn’t buy it.

I turn my head to watch his sister come out in the yellow number and I give her a grin. At least one of them seemed happy with what I’d picked. She was holding herself together better than he was—maybe there was some kind of strength in the young, she hadn’t been worn down yet—and I managed to give her a nod. “You look real pretty in that! Everyone’s going to be looking at you and saying how pretty you are… and you’re gonna be great, all those people loving and watching you up there…[/b]” As the words come out, I remember being in the viewing room and watching her brother. When he ran off his pedestal in the bloodbath an all the kids started swiping at him. When he ran into Cyrus in the woods and we all thought they’d duke it out to the death. When he slipped onto Nonnie. The fiery explosion of the crab.[/color] I steady myself for a moment and brush back another few strands of hair.

"Don't you have anything more subtle?" Her brother’s voice calls me back and I look over to him and nod. I turn to the racks and find something darker, black and sleek and altogether boring for my taste. It would suit him well, mourning in black, but that’s not how I wanted to celebrate anyone’s death. No. I’d spent too much time crying after my pa’s dying to ever go back to bein’ like that. ‘Cause when he died, I got so sad I didn’t want to come out of bed—and all the colors were gone too. Just black this, black that, until I didn’t feel nothin’ no more. It hurts still thinking about him, but every day it gets a little bit smaller. And I had Daniel to help me through it. He made me laugh—oh he made me remember that I could still do that—and even when we hurt about it, we got through. ‘Cause ain’t stronger than that, I tell you what.

I place the black suit jacket in front of him and I lick my lips.“Yah know, ‘salright. You got things you have to be dealing with—ain’t none of my business.[/b]” But. But. But! I didn’t believe that. Nah, I didn’t believe it for one second. We were all a part of it, weren’t we? We all had somethin' to say about this mixed up world. And I had a big fat mouth on me. “Well… ‘cept… you know, he was really great. And if he’d been my brother I’d be so proud of him—I’m proud of him anyway. I don’t know nothin’ on account of what he did when he was here. But I know that I’m proud of him.[/b]” I stopped for a moment to look from Rubik to Hope and then back down to the floor. As usual I’d blurted out more than I should have. Now he’d pay and leave, and I’d probably never see them in this shop again.

-----

Narratin’
Thinkin’
Speakin’
Listenin’

-----

[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[rook]

r u b i k + w o o d a r d s

_{i know it's gonna take some time
for you to feel that it's alright
i'm not making people choose a side
but i don't mind you trying}

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

<sub>"You look real pretty in that! Everyone’s going to be looking at you and saying how pretty you are… and you’re gonna be great, all those people loving and watching you up there…" She compliments Hope, I watch my sister's face blossom at the kindness of Ruby's words. Sure, it's gonna be hard for Hope during the Tour, but at least she'll look great for Pandora. That's all we can focus on, Pan.

Hope walks herself back to the dressing room to change back into her original clothes. Once that's done we can buy the dress, but I need to try out some clothes first. Ruby picks out some darker suits, much more funeral-like, colorless and thus emotionless. I like these more than I liked the Capitolesque suits, but I feel sad just looking at the color. I'm sure I can brighten it up with a light colored tie or the sort, I am from District Eight after all, I have a fashion sense.

"Yah know, ‘salright. You got things you have to be dealing with—ain’t none of my business."</sub>

[/i] Ruby says, I ignore her comment. It's not any of her business how I feel about my brother and how he lived his life. It's my opinion of the guy, I'm entitled to it. Yet on the other hand, she's right. I shouldn't disrespect him by talking about his sexual endeavors in life, let alone accuse someone I barely know of sleeping with him. I guess I'm just in a dark place in my life, I owe too many apologies, too many bad words have come out my mouth since Pan passed. I'm starting to adopt my brother's venom.

Am I becoming more like Pandora? I'm starting to get his attitude, his quick wit and sarcasm. I've become nastier for sure. Or is it just me being nasty? I'm allowed to make a dodgy remark every now and again, sure it's not what I've always done but heck, I've just lost my twin, I don't have to be goody-two-shoes Rubik. Besides, just because I'm being nasty, doesn't mean I'm becoming Pandora. It's wrong that I associate my dead sibling with spite and everything that's wrong with me.

I wish I had volunteered

It's the first time I've actually wished it. Sure, I went to volunteer but my arrogant brother didn't let me. Maybe at the time it seemed like the logical choice - Pan could never support the family without me. But looking back, I can't live like this, not without my other half. I bet anything Pandora could have gone on without me. He would have shaped up his act, pulled himself together and got a decent job or something. He would have continued surviving, not broken down into a spiral of transformation that saw his attitude crash and burn at the bottom. No. He would have gone the other way, gone upwards. If I had died, Pandora would have become more like me. When Pandora died, I became more like him. It's weird. We become what we miss the most.

"Well… ‘cept… you know, he was really great. And if he’d been my brother I’d be so proud of him—I’m proud of him anyway. I don’t know nothin’ on account of what he did when he was here. But I know that I’m proud of him."[/i]

We're all proud of him. He got far, he could have gone further. yet in the end he gave his life for a girl he barely knew. A girl he felt nothing for. A girl he could have killed and felt no regret. He chose to save her, end his life so she may have a chance at hers. And she took out the Kraken... Could Pandora have taken out the leviathan that was Davy Jones? Part of me wants to say yes, he had the luck, he had the determination... But I see Pandora befalling the same fate as Cyrus did. Who knows? Maybe Pan would have given his life for Cyrus'? That I could relate to, Cyrus and Pan were close in their three days together.

"I-I think..." I stop myself, unable to find the right words to say how I feel about Pan. In the end I give up, I'm done talking about my dead brother, I just want to try these suits on, "I think I'm going to try these on..." I finish rather pathetically, turning to nab the darker suits and walking towards the changing rooms.

I pass Hope in the corridor, instantly she knows something's wrong.
"Rubik... What's wr-"
"Don't Hope.... Just, Don't..." I stop her and close myself off in a cubicle, drawing the curtain to conceal myself from the world. I sit on the chair and sigh as Hope walks out to Ruby, the dresses in hand.

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

---

<sub>narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: Switching to Hope for next post.
theme: Newton Faulkner - "Feels Like Home"</sub>

[cyrus]

::::
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
::::

"I-I think... I think I'm going to try these on...

[/b]" His voice comes out soft, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that he’s off somewhere else and away from me. Ain’t the only person in this world that has ever lost someone… and he won’t be the last. Now I don’t say it to be mean. It’s not like I think he doesn’t have a right to feel all torn up inside. I wasn’t too hurt that he even suggested that Pandora might have found me enough to take as one of his girls—though it made me burn a little—and I’d forgive Rubik if he gave me a chance. Sometimes we all said things a little rougher then we really meant around here. ‘Specially when it’s as hot as it is now.

I remember how it felt to lose my pa. I remember when I spent whole nights just crying and sulking, not wanting to go to school or even eat. Every little thing would remind me of him, from the way that my brother set the table—he kept forgetting that there were three instead of four—to when I’d come home from school and expect to hear him open up that screen door onto the porch in its squeaky way. But then he never was going to have dinner with us again. And he wasn’t gonna just come out that door when I came home. And gosh, sometimes I really needed him to just come out, just one time, when I got called names by some girls at school, or was feeling awfully low about myself.

I watch the till and keep fixing up the little number on the table, sewing up the hem and watching carefully as I do it. No mistakes ever come out of Elderwoods. If anyone ever finds one, Mrs. Elderwood just utters the same refrain about “That girl doesn’t work here anymore.” Sewing is just about the only thing I can do that relaxes me so. It takes my mind off of the cross words that I’ve exchanged with Rubik, and puts things back into perspective for me. I’m a seamstress, and if I’m lucky enough I might have my own little shop someday. But I’ll only get there if I work hard, and if I don’t let the little things stack up and get to me. Because when things way you down—things that are dark and seem so hard to understand—you lose sight of what’s really important.

I see Hope come out of the changing room with her dresses out of the corner of my eye, and I give her a small smile. I wonder what she really thinks about all this, about whether or not she’s okay. I want to say so much to her—so many things it’s not my place to say—about what she should do to keep her brother from feeling too low. Rubik was a good brother, from what I could tell. I wondered if there mightn’t be any way that he and Hope couldn’t come to see one of Daniel’s shows. Might even cheer them up, if only for a good laugh. But there I go again, poking my way into people’s lives like I’m not supposed to. I put down my needle and lean back against the table.

“You make a decision? I think the yellow one looked best on you. It’ll look great when the summer’s over. Not too hot this year, hopefully.[/b]” I give another grin as I look down at her. I’ve never had a younger sibling. I’ve always been the youngest, with an older brother looking over me. That’s the only way we ever make it through. Helping each other to carry on… even when we’re too tired. I smile again and turn my head toward the back, wondering if Rubik is liking his bland choice. “Hope… do you like music? I mean, do you like to sing and dance?” I grin at her and think a wicked thought. “I only ask ‘cause if you do, I know this place where you might like—it’d be real fun if I could get someone to come along with me.[/b]”

-----

Narratin’
Thinkin’
Speakin’
Listenin’

-----

[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[rook]

h o p e + w o o d a r d s

<sub>i believe in nothing
not the end and not the start
i believe in nothing
not the earth and not the stars

i believe in nothing
not the day or not the dark
i believe in nothing
but the beating of our hearts</sub>

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

<sub>Sometimes I feel like Rubik's too protective over me. Ever since Pandora met his destiny, (in more ways than one), Rubik has been breathing down my neck, almost not wanting to lose me either. What he doesn't understand is that I'm thirteen now, I can take care of myself. Sure, I was devastated when we lost Pan, but I wasn't broken. I wasn't a sniveling mess like Rubik was. I understand that my older brother lost his twin, that's more than losing a brother, his pain is far more than mine... I get that... It's just everyone thinks I'm weak, but I'm not. I was strong for Pandora, and in the end I was proud of him.

So, it's a little annoying every time my older and only brother tells me to behave, or to be strong. I'm stronger than him for sure, I was the one who found him swearing at the stormy skies on the night we lost Rubik. I chose silence, he chose rage... Reactions can be so... Different. But that's besides the point, Rubik was telling me all this time to be strong for Pandora, to keep it together for Pandora.. But in the end he couldn't even hold himself together. The biggest hypocrite ever. I don't resent him for it, it's just a little tedious that he still asks me to stay strong. I am strong.

Stronger than him

The woman, who I see her as a woman but really she's an older girl, turns to me and speaks. Her accent is funny, a little too Eightian that I wonder if it's put on. Rubik's accent is stupidly Fourish, unlike Pandora's, which was midway between Eight and Four. Mine is like Pan's, more Eightian than our father's Fourish. I don't get why Rubik associates himself with our drunken oaf that's called a dad.

This girl, woman, person... She turns and speaks, "You make a decision? I think the yellow one looked best on you. It’ll look great when the summer’s over. Not too hot this year, hopefully!" She says. I do like the yellow dress, it's more me, more radiant. I think if Pandora were still around, he'd tell me to opt for the brighter colors. He'd like to see me in it, it's a shame he can't.

"Yeah, I think I'll go for the yellow one..." I say, my voice is timid and caught. I look down at the floor, my head still swimming of thoughts. Proving myself to Rubik, does he really think me a little girl still? I've been through so much at thirteen, losing my mother, watching my father go insane, now losing Pandora. Rubie is all I have left. Part of me hopes he's let me go, because I spent my thirteenth birthday watching my older brother flaunt himself in front of the Capitol audience, before running into his death. I just feel that I need to convince Rubie.

"Hope… do you like music? I mean, do you like to sing and dance?"
"Huh?" The question confuses me.
"I only ask ‘cause if you do, I know this place where you might like—it’d be real fun if I could get someone to come along with me!" She finishes, I'm still confused. I do like singing from time to time, and I'm a capable dancer... I mean, I can dance... But... I have confidence issues that have always held me back.
"Gee, I don't know..." I contemplate it. Maybe this could be my chance to show Rubik that I'm moving on? Show him that I'm independent, I want to do something with my life other than mourn, and this could be it.

"Why not?" I grin.</sub>

---

<sub>narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: Hopetime.
theme: 30 Seconds to Mars - "100 Suns".</sub>

[cyrus]

::::
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
::::

"Yeah, I think I'll go for the yellow one..." Hope agrees with me and it makes me smile. See, every once and a while I can get what the customer is thinking right.

[/color] It’s a certain pick-me-up from lashing out at her brother and giving him a what-for. It’s different with boys, anyway. It’s like oil and water for me. Never been able to talk to them rightly, like we speak different languages. Supposing that maybe I’m the one that they don’t understand, too.[/color] I shake my head as I snatch up the dress and start wrapping it up for her. I put some paper into a neat little box and fold the thing up in a flash. In another instant I’ve gotten some twine and wrapped the thing like a neat little present for her.

Then she moves on to my question, just as I’m finishing up with her dress. "Gee, I don't know..." My heart pounds for a moment as I listen to her. I don’t know why I’m so excited to invite this young girl out with me—I’m guessing Big Mike at the Hole is not going to be pleased with me bringing her in—but I can’t help but be on edge as she ponders it. "Why not?” I spin around and give her the biggest smile I’ve had all afternoon. I knew that I had more of a connection with her, anyway. Maybe I was just projectin’ myself the way I always did, but it just felt like the right thing to do[/color] , in terms of reaching out. After all, I could provide a good enough distraction for her from the games. And Daniel would provide enough of a distraction for everyone.[/color]

“Oh, you ain’t gonna regret it! You’re gonna love the Hole, it’s this dark little place just up the way, they play music at nights, and there’s this show you’re going to love… they have people playing the guitar and dancing, and they tell jokes…” I know the words are flying out of me now, but I can’t help myself. It’s just somethin’ that happens when I get all excited. I grin real wide again and lean back against the table behind me. “You know, it might even be nice if your brother tagged along too. He seems like he could use a good laugh or two.”

I hoped she didn’t mind about my meddlin’. It wasn’t my place but… they seemed like such nice people, and she was sweet enough. And darn it all if I wasn’t the type to drag people along on adventures with me. Lately Leslie Anne had been dodging Daniel’s shows to see boys, to which I said there are plenty of boys at the Hole, to which she said, they weren’t the type of boys that took any interest in me, which was true and all… but I didn’t like going there by myself. In any case, I’d be holding her to her agreement—and dragging her along with me.

-----

Narratin’
Thinkin’
Speakin’
Listenin’

-----

[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[rook]

h o p e + w o o d a r d s

<sub>i believe in nothing
not the end and not the start
i believe in nothing
not the earth and not the stars

i believe in nothing
not the day or not the dark
i believe in nothing
but the beating of our hearts</sub>

[/sub][/color]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

_{"Oh, you ain’t gonna regret it! You’re gonna love the Hole, it’s this dark little place just up the way, they play music at nights, and there’s this show you’re going to love… they have people playing the guitar and dancing, and they tell jokes…"}

[/i] She says, her voice getting faster and faster as she becomes increasingly ecstatic. I take a step back, confused in a way. When she asked if I liked to sing and dance, I imagined meeting a few of her friends at a campfire or something and reminiscing, conversing and sharing. Instead she's telling me about some place called the Hole? That doesn't sound so appealing to me. A dark place just out of town? Where people gather at night? Nope. Definitely not appealing.

So why am I so intrigued?

My head tilts and my face returns to a bright grin.
"Sounds great!" I force enthusiasm, when really I'm quite hesitant about it. Hey, this is my chance to prove to Rubik that I'm independent, that I can move on. He probably won't approve of what I'm doing, or rather what I'm going to do, but that's exactly it. I want him to be able to let me go, let me do what I want. He held Pandora back and look how that ended.

"You know, it might even be nice if your brother tagged along too. He seems like he could use a good laugh or two."[/i] She smiles, her accent makes her sound less intelligent than she probably is, but that's just District Eight for you. Wait. Bring Rubik? How can he let me go if he's there supervising me and holding my hand? No, no... This can't happen. He can't come.

"I... I don't think he's ready for that yet..." I say, more muffled and hesitant.

He can't be allowed to come. He'll ruin everything.

Ripred, I'm starting to sound like my dead brother...

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

---

<sub>narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing

notes: Hopetime.
theme: 30 Seconds to Mars - "100 Suns".</sub>

[cyrus]

::::
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke?
I opened my eyes
Much to my surprise
::::

"Sounds great!" I was all atwitter at the thought that Hope wanted to join me. It makes things so much easier, and my brother will be thrilled if he can earn a new fan.

[/color] She looked like the type that might be confused by the whole thing, but probably would think it was a ball of fun. And if she didn’t that was okay, too. Except it would probably hurt my feelings and I’d never speak to her again. I flashed a smile as she obliged my invitation. Sometimes it was the little things that made me happiest, and sometimes it felt like my own happiness might rub off on others. Which would be good for this one, and her brother, too. Though I figured he might still have a long face after all of it.

“You'll love it. Daniel is really funny… he’s my brother, and he always puts on a good show. I wish I was as talented as he was… I’ve always wanted to be on stage,” I let out a little bit, warming up to Hope. I really did want to do something else other than sewing. Even though I was good at it, there was something that made my heart pump faster, and that was the thought of being up on stage in front of a whole lot of people. It was why watching the games was so enjoyable for me, even if they were so terrifying. If I ever got the chance to be on television, I could be famous to all of Panem. And the whole wide world would get to know the name Ruby Tuesday.[/color]

"I... I don't think he's ready for that yet..." She lets out, and my smile strains a little. Of course he would be a wet blanket about things.[/color] I did want the both of them to come, but I knew that it was a lot to push it. He reminded me of the type that would rather bang his head against the wall than change his mind about somethin’, and so it was probably best to let them make up their own minds than push it. After all, he might need some easing in to Daniel’s act—it wasn’t something a boy like him would be that interested in, let alone know how to handle. And Daniel would be rude to him—in a fun way—because he would love to make someone like Rubik even more uncomfortable than he already was. I nodded my head and turned back to the counter.

“Oh well, I guess’n that’s something that he’ll decide. I don’t mind if he doesn’t come, but it’d be real nice if’n all of us got dinner at some point—“ I’m practically inviting myself to be her new friend, I hope it doesn’t look too desperate. Sometimes I got bored of the girls her—excepting Leslie Anne, who got into her own trouble—and she seemed like the type that might need a good friend. I lean a bit closer and lower my voice, though not enough that it couldn’t be heard it Rubik tried hard enough. “We wouldn’t want him to spoil our fun anyway, would we? A night for just us girls sounds like a lot of fun!”

-----

Narratin’
Thinkin’
Speakin’
Listenin’

-----

[/blockquote][/size][/justify]