Young Blood [Geebs]

[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

While he normally liked training to the point where he could confidently say it was enjoyable, he was not liking or enjoying it at this moment. Right now, he and the couple other Career kids that were in his training sessions were being required to perform laps in the gym pool. While he had been told to do them, he was sitting out and watching his two companions race through the water as they tried to beat their own, and each other's, times. He sighed, not in regret but in annoyance. He must be the only person in all of District four that didn't like swimming. More than that, he didn't even know how to swim.

It had taken nearly two years until his friends had come to terms with his lack of enthusiasm towards the most popular activity in the District, besides fishing. It was more than a simple lack of love for the water that caused him to skip on sessions such as this, it was his hatred of water. This was not to say that he wouldn't touch the stuff, he just didn't like being emerged in it. It was the reason he wouldn't take baths, instead opting for going behind a screen and dumping the water over his head as though in a shower. Something about being surrounded by water frightened him, there he had admitted it. He was scared of water.

How he had been able to live in this District for nine years and not go mad? With the way people went on about water here you'd think they lived in it. Afraid of water as he was, he had managed to make himself fit into this waterlogged District. It didn't make any sense though, how he could have lived here for most of his life and still be scared of the water. Perhaps this had something to do with the mystery of his past. Whatever life he had been born into, swimming was not a part of it. But at the age of seven he had been tossed into a place where swimming was the next step after walking. No kid in District four didn't know how to swim. Except for him. He was the only one who couldn't swim like a fish, who couldn't swim at all really. Whoever's idea this was to put him here, well, he hated them for it. Of all the places he could have gone he had to be stuck in a place where he would never fit in. Ever. Why hadn't it have been District one, or two, or ten even. Why did it have to be District four. Why send the boy who hates water to District four.

Water splashing against his face and dripping into his clothes shook him awake. One of the boys who had been doing laps in the pool grinned mischievously at him, and moved his hand as though to splash him again. Making an annoyed noise, Brant stood up and glared at the boy. "I may not like swimming, but that doesn't mean I'm scared of water. So all you did was get me wet, thanks a lot." His sarcasm dripped from his voice in the same way the drops of water fell from his face. Now sheepish, the boy turned away and hurriedly started a conversation with his friend.

Rolling his eyes, Brant dried his face with his shirt and left the gym, ignoring the instructors calls to come back as he did so. No one understands, they think they do but what I'm going through is much more complicated than they think. Even if they say they know what I mean, I never believe them. He switched any conscious thought from where his feet were going to contemplating what had just happened. Sure the kid was being stupid, as many of them were when they thought of his hate towards swimming, but maybe he had over reacted? No, if he had over reacted that boy would have had a broken nose, or at least a bloody one. He had been perfectly reasonable in his handling on the situation.

His mind had then slid to the topic that almost always occupied his thoughts; his past. Or what part of his past he remembered of it. He had suddenly shown up in District four at the age of seven, or so it had seemed. His earliest memory was when he had entered the training hall for the first time. Where was he before then? Who was he? Had he been kidnapped, or just given up for adoption? Maybe both. However much he speculated, it wouldn't give him the answer. He would have to find that out some other way.

His musing had distracted him from his travels, and when he finally noticed where he was he realized he had wandered into the richer part of District four, nearly the opposite side of the District from the little house he shared with his parents. Or the people he called his parents. He almost never came to this part of the District, as there was nothing here for him to do. The training hall and gym were near the center of the District, while the beach was only a ten minute walk from his house. It was odd for him to have ended up here and not at one of those three places. There was even a tall tree hanging over the beach where he liked to rest and take time to himself, but it had not called to him. There must have been some reason that he had come here, he just had to find it. Whatever it was.

Tags: Beads of Green | Words: 942
Other: So good to write him again.

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[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

It's getting harder. Everyday is starting to feel like an up hill climb to nothing. She had heard people joke before she was married about officials' wives. How they end up depressed and lonely. At the time it was merely a joke, something to make her smile and think "Oh, that will never happen to Fabian and I- we're in love." Even love doesn't last as long as she thought it would.

Stepping out onto the street were the Mayor's resided, Althea closed her eyes, letting the ocean breeze bring back all the memories she wished were reality again. Fabian, young and fit, before all this mayor mess was thrown into his life. A strong Career destined to wear a Victor's crown. As a young girl, Althea herself was a worthy opponent. Skilled in almost any weapon you could think of. Eyeing that attractive boy from across the training hall. Finally talking to him, then walking along the beach with him. She could almost feel the night air around her, even with it being the middle of the day. She could even feel the ghost of Fabian's breath on her face as they made their secret pact.

She had done everything for him, and where had it put her? Stuck up in some house as her prison with a bunch of kids. That's not what she had wanted at all. She was supposed to go to the Games, win glory or die trying. Love was not an option for a Career, yet she let it get in the way. If only she could go back in time to her final Reaping as an eighteen year old and volunteer instead of standing there in silence. That was the year of the Fortieth Hunger Games, what number were they on now? Sixty One? h it had been so long since she had even held a weapon much less gotten the chance to use one.

Opening her eyes, the bright afternoon light blinded her. Turning to go back inside, her assaulted vision caught sight of a figure on the street further down from her. A young man, with a lean Career build. For a moment she could see him, the boy who had taken all her dreams.

"Fabian?" she called out hesitantly, unsure if she was just seeing things or if he was really there in his former glory.

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[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

Unannounced to him, a woman had come to stand a short ways from him. It was only as she spoke that he realized he was not alone. "Fabian?" Her voice was hesitant, as though unsure of what she saw. Out of instinct, he spun to face her, muscles taught in preparation to defend himself if need be. He stopped short when he saw her, and when the word she had called out finally processed in his brain.

Fabian, he thought, quizzically, isn't that the first name of the Mayor? He waited a moment, looking at her and taking in her form. She was at least twice his age, if not more, and pale skinned. Her eyes were blue like the ocean, and her hair was a dark brown. For a moment he didn't know who this woman was, but then it clicked in his mind. The Mayor's wife.

She had called out her husband's name, but her gaze was focused on him. Confused, he stood still for another minute, his mind turning over what might be going on. Quickly, he looked around to see if he may have been mistaken about being alone, and that maybe the Mayor was around here, which would explain her question. But no, he didn't see anyone or hear anyone. No one besides he and the Mayor's wife were here.

Wondering what to do, he shook his head at the woman. "No, Mrs. Perch. My name is Brant, Brant Anders." He was being very formal, more formal than he was with anyone else. Unsure of where the higher level of formality had come from, he smiled at her. This was all very weird, and he didn't want there to be any kind of misunderstanding. She had already taken him to be her husband after all.

That thought confused him. Surely he, only sixteen, looked nothing like the Mayor, who he knew to be in his forties. Perhaps she was remembering her past, an activity that he wasn't able to do. Still with no past besides the last nine years of his life, all spent in District four, he would have enjoyed finally knowing something about where he had come from. Maybe she would know something of his arrival in this District. At least her husband would, or should, seeing that the Mayor has to keep track of how many citizens there are in the District so they can report to the Capitol with the number of reapable age children. He himself was of reapable age, and had been for four years now, so they should have at least some record of him.

Tags: Geebs | Words: 433
Other: Open windows.

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[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

As her eyes adjusted to the noon sun, they focused in on the figure who appeared to look nothing like Fabian Perch, present or past. Her mouth pressed into a firm line, disappointed in the world for tricking her and in herself for believing things could be fixed so easily. That's when the boy spoke up, making known who exactly he was.

"No, Mrs. Perch. My name is Brant, Brant Anders." embarrassment crawled up her chest, flushing her face and the tips of her ears varying shades of red. What was she doing? The Mayor's wife just out standing barefoot in the middle of the street mistaking young Careers for her husband? That wouldn't look good at all. In a moment of desperation, she offered a rough version of the fake smile she had developed over the years at her husband's side.

"Well, Brant," she said a little flustered to be caught in such a personal moment such as day dreaming. "Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea?"

Her hand flew out to gesture towards the Mayor's house. It was a fairly large home when you compare it to the others in the District. The occupants inside had known no hardship, that's for sure. Usually, Althea wouldn't just invite random teenagers into her home but she was desperate to get him off the street before someone would see him- or her for that matter. Maybe she could persuade the boy to keep quite on the matter.

Not even waiting for an answer, she started towards the house and up the stone stairs leading to the front door. Her children were all at school or out training and Fabian... well, her husband was barely home anymore. He practically lived in his office. That would secure a private meeting with the boy- who would no doubt be amazed to be having tea inside the Mayor's klavish house.

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[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

He watched as her face and ears turned red, and shifted a little uncomfortably. Breaking what meager eye contact they had had, he looked down. It was then that he noticed she had no shoes, or even socks, on. Now his mouth tightened slightly as he wondered whether he should just walk away so they could both go back to whatever they were on their way to do. He had shifted his weight off of his right leg as he prepared to take a step back, but he never did. Her voice made him stop as she said, "Well, Brant, would you like to come inside for a cup of tea?"

The offer started him some, but it was enough to make him raise his gaze to her face again. As he looked up, he saw her gesture with one outstretched arm toward the house directly behind her. It was the largest house on the block, but compared to the glimpses of the Capitol on the television it was nothing. However, compared to his little house that he shared with his parents, it was huge. To think that he had been offered entrance into some place such as that, it was incredible. Incredible and completely unexpected.

The Mayor's wife had already made her way up the steps to reach the front door, not waiting for him to follow as she had made the ascent. He hurried to catch up, taking the stone steps two at a time. When he reached the front door to stand beside Mrs. Perch, he started to wonder whether he should tell her that he didn't drink tea, or whether he should just drink it anyway. It wasn't as though he hated tea, he just preferred juice or just plain water. Not to mention, he also wasn't used to drinking tea, as the leaves or bags were more money per cup than his parents liked.

So he just stood there silently, his green eyes on the woman before him as he waited for her to open the door. It felt weird, to be about to enter the Mayor's residence especially with the Mayor's wife. He wondered if any other members of the Perch family were home. Probably not, the Mayor would surely be busy and any kids they had, he suspected there were at least two, would probably be training or at school. A flicker of uncertainty went through him, making him ask himself if he should turn down the offer. But then a little voice in the back of his head, oh ripred was he going mad said, maybe I can ask her about my past. She might know something.

He decided that any shot was better than no shot, so he decided to stay. How would he bring the topic up though? Should he try to steer the conversation, or should he leave it up to her? Probably best to leave the topic up to her, and maybe give a few nudges toward the thing he wanted to ask her about. She was the Mayor's wife after all, it was only right that he be polite.

Tags: GreenBeads | Words: 518
Other: Hmm decisions, decisions. And madness.

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[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

She pulled the heavy door open, waiting until the boy had fully entered the house before closing it behind him. Althea silently cursed herself for being stuck in this position- what was she thinking just walking out into the street and daydreaming? Now she had a some teenage boy in her house, and she was serving him tea. For a moment, the woman realized how bad this may look- the Mayor's wife and young man in an empty house together. She just had to hope her husband didn't decide to drag himself from the office.

"Go, have a seat. Make yourself at home!" she said ushering the boy into the kitchen, gesturing for him to sit at the small table with a pair of chairs over to the side. Althea moved over to the stove, finding that the kettle still had tea from earlier. The woman bustled about the kitchen, taking fine teacups and saucers down from the cabinets. She stopped to look at the china, thinking back to the day she had gotten them. They had been a wedding present but until now she had never really used them. At one time she thought that Fabian and herself would sit at the same table as Brant Anders was now currently occupying, sipping tea and talking. A long lost dream.

"So Brant, are you working towards a future with the Games?" she could not out and call him a Career, even if he is one that term isn't supposed to be used because children are not supposed to be trained in the Districts before going into the Arena. She poured the liquid into the cups, bringing them over to rest on the wood table top.

Finally taking a seat, the woman offered another smile, sipping at her tea just like a government official's wife was supposed to. "Are you planning on being District Four's pride and joy?"

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[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

The door looked heavy as she pulled it open, and for a moment he had almost reached out to help her with it. The solid wood of the door would offer resistance to the opener no matter the season. He forced himself to simply enter the magnificent house and wait just inside as she closed the door behind them. She froze, for just a split second but it was enough for him to notice. It seemed that she had realized something, and he guessed it would be the way that this all would look, did look. He, a teenage boy, was being invited into an empty house by a woman that surely didn't get as much attention from her husband as his job did.

No, he was sure that she only meant what she said, she had merely offered him a cup of tea and a chance to ask a question he had wanted to know the answer to for years. Of course, she didn't know about his question, but that would come in time. Meanwhile, he was being ushered into the kitchen with a forcibly enthusiastic "Go, have a seat. Make yourself at home!" She gestured toward a small table near the side of the room, there were two chairs on opposite ends of the table.

He sat in the closest one as the woman moved over to the stove. He watched as she looked at the kettle to see whether there was tea in it or not. It seemed there was as she let it be while hurrying to do other tasks. Now she was rushing to retrieve tea cups and saucers down from the cabinet. They were fine china dishes, nothing like the hardy plates they had at his place, most of which were plastic and not porcelain. It looked as though they were either relatively new, or little used, the pale designs that decorated their outside not worn away by the grip of hands and the scrub of rags.

"So Brant, are you working towards a future with the Games?" He noticed that she delicately avoided the word 'Career', as the training done in the Districts of one, two, and four was technically illegal under the rules of the Games. However, the Capitol didn't pay any attention to it as it generally made for better entertainment, after all a blood-thirsty Career pack would make for great show as they pounced on their victims, rather than scared little boys and girls who lashed out for fear of dying. The thoughts of the Games, of him actually being in them made him pause for a moment. Did he really want to go into the Games, or would he rather just do his training and keep his head low as other kids were sent to their deaths?

Mrs. Perch had poured two cups of tea, still warm though it had probably been sitting for a bit. Gently, he gripped the tiny handle of the cup in order to lift it over to him. His hand, too big for the small ring of china that was used to lift the cup, made it difficult to keep from dropping the fragile dish. When he placed it down in front of him, he adjusted his grip so his fingers were wrapped around the cup. He would rather have poor etiquette than smash the cup.

Across from him, Mrs. Perch had finally taken her seat at the other end of the small table. Delicately raising her own cup to her lips, she took a small sip before placing it gingerly back on its saucer. Smiling at him, her mouth set in a way that told him it wasn't a true smile but more of a mask, she asked another question, as if to add more detail to her previous asking. "Are you planning on being District Four's pride and joy?" Again, the thoughts of him being in the arena spun in his mind. He supposed that he might stand a chance in the Games, having trained from the age of seven, but that wasn't the point. Did he really think he could win?

There was a District four tribute in the finale, the boy Fitz Ripley, and it seemed that he might be able to pull a victory for this District. Still, the odds were against him as he had two opponents that both came from District three. Surely they would take out the only remaining tribute not from their District before turning on each other. Then again, by the time anyone reached the final he was sure that their perspective on life had shifted. Did Districts mean anything to them anymore, were alliances even secure by that point? Or had they shut down their conscience so much that they merely fought to survive, and not to win?

Knowing that he couldn't just leave her words hanging without an answer, he tried to think up something that wouldn't reveal too much of what he was thinking without being flat responses. "I've been preparing for nine years now. But to say I will or won't be the victor is putting too much stock in what I think might happen. As I've seen before, things don't always go the way you want them to." He shut his mouth, not hard as though he had said to much but gently as though that was simply all he had to say. He wasn't really sure where the words had come from, but he agreed with them.

Taking a sip of tea, he wondered if he should add more. No, if she wanted to know more she could just ask. He shouldn't spill his life's story after a couple standard-issue questions.

Tags: Beads of Green | Words: 945
Other: It's not really food for thought, but maybe tea for thought?

Template by Bryya

[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

The bright blue eyes of the one time Career followed the boy's clumsy fingers as they tried to handle the dainty tea cup. Eventually he gave up all together, grabbing the poor thing with his whole hand, swallowing the porcelain with a dirty palm. She listened to him, taking in every word the boy had to offer. He was not the usual Career then. Yes, he had trained from a young age but he did not have the pride or the arrogance a destined victor carries with them. He actually took into account that he might die in the Arena, something Althea never did. Then again, she never had to worry about it.

"...things don't always go the way you want them to." Boy, that was the truth. The woman couldn't hold back her sarcastic chuckle, shaking the tea in her cup. Dark, strong tea. Her eyes bored into the drink, thinking about all the things she wanted that had gone awry. Marriage. Children. Fabian. Everything. Every last thing Althea had wanted had taken a turn for the worst. She had wanted to live with Fabian and here she was stuck at home with a bunch of kids.

Taking another sip, the liquid left a bitter taste in her mouth, like all the past years she had wasted. Just like the lady she had been molded to be, Althea set the cup and saucer back on the table. Her bare feet crossed at the ankles and her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Would you like to start making things go your way, Brant Anders?" Althea had been raised a Career, brash, courageous and strong. Those traits don't just vanish when you turn nineteen even if people would rather wish they did. "You're sitting in front of a woman with an awful lot of power."

Her voice was almost a whisper and the words carried a lot of weight but her hands remained folded, her ankles crossed and her teacup in the perfect center of its saucer. A perfect mask is something that takes time to create. However, once someone puts it on not a soul can tell what emotion lurks beneath. A true defense.

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[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

Her chuckle, filled with such obvious sarcasm to shock him for a moment, was harsh. Her gaze was on the cup in her hands and he noticed how intently she was staring at the dark liquid within the fragile shell. She took another sip from it, then continued to gaze at it. He watched as she then placed it gently on its saucer and, as though because of that one movement, lost the rough disposition and replaced it with the lady-like persona that was expected of one in her position. The change, instantaneous, made him pause almost as much as her harsh sarcasm had. He knew right then that her public face was just that, a face. It was the mask she donned before she left the house and hung up by the door when she returned home. The mask was not the real woman who say in front of him, but her alternate identity that was Mrs. Perch, the wife of the Mayor.

She spoke then, and her words startled him from the shallow revere that he had fallen into. "Would you like to start making things go your way, Brant Anders?" The question stunned him for a moment. What did she mean, go his way? Was she offering to secure him a spot in the Games, or to make sure he wasn't reaped? Or did it have anything to do with the Games? Perhaps it was just an offer in relation to life in general. An offer of money, or power? "You're sitting in front of a woman with an awful lot of power." That much was true. As the wife of the Mayor, she had a pretty easy time getting what she wanted. The offer must be power, then. Or maybe not.

Then another thought occurred to him. What did she want in return? People with power didn't give other people things for free, they used the bargain as leverage to obtain something. It was then he noticed how her hands were folded in her lap and her legs were crossed. She was the image of a high lady, speaking to one of her servants or to one of the villagers where her castle resided, like in the few stories that had remained from the time when it had been North America and not Panem. Her face was carefully blank, with no sign of any emotion in her. Her words had been a whisper, but they were heavy with the severity of their meaning. It was something important that she was offering him.

Studying her as he tried to read anything from her, and failing to make note anything other than the perfect image of an official's wife, he carefully pieces together his response, speaking slow in order to not mess it up and say the wrong thing. "I thank you for your offer," once again, the unknown etiquette had made an appearance, turning his words from rude to seemingly polite, "but before I can accept there are a couple of things I need to know." He hoped his questions were simple enough as to not be rude, and to not give offense. "What kind of opportunity are you offering me? And what would you like in return?" Because I know you aren't doing this for free. His green eyes stayed on her face, his gaze steady but apparently relaxed. In his mind, his thoughts were churning like the waves on a rough day. What possibly could her offer be? With no clue as to what the answer was, he would just have to wait and hear her reply.

Tags: GreenBeads       |        Words: 596  
Other: Ooh, what's she gonna do for him?  

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[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

The woman saw something change in Brant. He wanted something, that was for sure. Maybe it wasn't just by chance he had stumbled onto her street, perhaps it was his goal to come to her the entire time. He was smarter than he looked, this boy. Althea's eyes studied him carefully, like a document full of fine print. Her fingers found the teacup again, needing to hold a prop in this play.

"I thank you for your offer," Althea frowned just the tiniest bit. He sounded like her husband, an adult spilling empty compliments and courtesies. "but before I can accept there are a couple of things I need to know." Althea listened to the boy, a pit of doubt forming in her stomach. He sounded pretty serious, wanting to think everything through. Something told the woman that this boy didn't merely want a look around the Mayor's office. "What kind of opportunity are you offering me? And what would you like in return?" He's worried, that's for sure. Althea may be cold to some, but she certainly wasn't going to manipulate this kid into doing anything obscene.
Well, maybe.

"I'm offering you the chance to ask for whatever you like- I'll be your genie in a lamp for the day," she gave him a smile, not a faked one but one she really tried at. Though, it came off a bit scarier than she intended it to be, like a hunter staring down its prey. "Don't worry, whatever you ask stays with me."

It was fun using power like this. Although Althea hoped it would be something easy like slipping his name into the Reaping a few more times but she could see that young Brant wanted something a bit more complicated.

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[Kire]

Does, Says, Thinks

The look he got from her after he spoke was one of careful calculation. She was observing him, trying to see what he wanted. Though, when she spoke, it melted away and was replaced by a seemingly genuine smile. "I'm offering you the chance to ask for whatever you like- I'll be your genie in a lamp for the day." The smile was not all pleasant, holding a slight scary edge to it, but Brant didn't pay it mind. If she was trying to scare him, he was sure she could do better than that. If not, then she would have failed.

Her next words, whether an attempt at reassurance or confirmation, didn't give him much solace. It just made it obvious that she had no idea what he was actually going to ask for. Perhaps his guesses as to what she was offering were correct. "Don't worry, whatever you ask stays with me." A moment after she spoke, the calculation entered her eyes again. She has no idea, he thought, keeping his face free of his thoughts, and she won't until I ask. I may as well ask then.

He looked her in the eyes, wanting to convey his words correctly so she knew what he meant. "I want to know about my past." The statement, while short, carried a lot of meaning, both hidden and visible. He would give more detail if she needed it, but he thought that it was decent enough for her just start off. Even if she reiterated what he already guessed, then it would be confirmation for him. Anything he could learn about his early life would be helpful. He hated the missing pieces of his life, it felt like a jigsaw puzzle that you could never finish, so you got so desperate you asked other people for the pieces.

It was starting to turn out that people had stolen the pieces from him, and would only give them back if he asked in the right way. He was hoping to complete the puzzle today, but even a few more pieces would be nice.

Tags: Geebs | Words: 348
Other: Ooh, puzzle metaphor.

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