Bedknobs and Broomsticks {Ivy, Pyrian and Noah}

[florentine, d4b ❁]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8086/8395194440_1d4d7fd413_m.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ] ivy soren.

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you are my sweetest downfall
i loved you first, i loved you first
beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
i have to go, i have to go

[/center][/i]

After arriving in the Capitol, it takes me a surprisingly small amount of time to establish that the rest of the tributes are decidedly ignorant. It's hard to say I'm any better, however. My first mistake involves opening the door of the boy from four in an attempt to have a decent conversation with somebody.

Despite my new, raised expectations concerning stupidity levels, I do not expect to see the blind deaf kid bent over Ripley, fumbling frantically with a box of matches. I'll gladly give him one thing - for someone who can't hear, he's awfully quiet. Ripley still snores unattractively.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, outraged. He doesn't look around - of course not, he's fucking deaf - so I repeat my words again. This time, I say them louder. By now, the blankets have begun to singe at the edges. Pathetic.

In despair, I turn to the mini fridge and seize a bottle of spirits. I don't recognise the brand name, but it seems almost completely untouched. I don't wince as I pour the clear liquid over the sheets and flames erupt from the matches that Freak is still clawing at. Finally, I have his undivided attention.

"Ivy," I say, by means of introduction.

[/blockquote][/justify][/color]

and history books forgot about us
and the bible didn't mention us
and the bible didn't mention us, not even once
you are my sweetest downfall

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[Python]

- - - - - -

The Capitol was exactly as Pyrian had imagined it: Hell painted rainbow colors with skyscrapers reaching for the clouds and streets polluted with freaks in exotic dresses. It was shockingly vibrant to his sensitive eyes, almost too excruciating to behold, especially considering how terrible their wardrobes were and how unbearable their sugary-sweet smiles were to endure. But what had proven to be more irritating than the freaks themselves were the actual tributes, all strutting about the training center as if Panem revolved around their selfish little heads when in reality they were about as important as toothpicks. The tribute parade itself had been a nightmare, and a fashion nightmare at that (he’d never felt so ridiculous, wearing such dreadful garments and accessories and make-up), but it was the events following the parade that really struck his nerves. Needless to say, every tribute was either obnoxious, stupid, arrogant, or obnoxiously stupid and arrogant, and Pyrian was having none of it any longer. By the end of his first night he'd already formed a mental hit list, and right at the top of this list was the name of district four’s next dead legend: Noah fucking Ripley.

Fortunately, even his own clumsiness did not wake the district four fish boy when he crept into his dwellings, far past curfew with a box of matches (don’t ask how he snatched them, he’ll never tell) wearing only pajamas and a devious grin on his hard face. At the bedside he stuck a match against the box, surveying the slumbering boy carefully to detect any suspicious movement, and touched the flame gently to the corner of the bed sheets in hopes of ruining the Ripley’s peaceful night. He failed, however, to notice a third party sneaking in, until his dark eyes spotted a silhouette rummaging through the boy’s mini fridge. As traces of orange flame licked the edges of the boy’s sheets - their woven threads spitting smoke into the air like a victim of a nasty sickness - the mysterious girl withdrew a bottle of liquor and poured its contents across the bed, drenching both the boy and his precious blankets. The events following only summoned delightful cackles from within the pyromaniac’s rusty throat. The sheets erupted into roaring flames, illuminating the room with dancing colors of sunrise and sunset, and when Pyrian stole a glance at the bold girl he noticed her muttering a word. ”Ivy.” Of course, he’d seen that name before. A fellow tribute, no doubt. He had no interest in exchanging names, however, so with nothing to say he took several steps back and watched the chaos unfold.

[/blockquote][/justify]

[wimdy]

When I go to bed, I know what is coming for me on the horizon. I know that I will fall asleep, curled up on my right side. I know that I will clutch at the blankets, dreading the morning that I'll wake to. I know that I will be fitful and snore. I know that in the morning, I'll wake to my own death, just like the hundreds of times I have in the past two years. I will drown as my eyes open, staring blearily through the ocean and my tears to try and see, but fail to do so. I will breathe in deep, let the water funnel into my lungs and kill me. Still, I fall asleep.

When I wake, I am right. I am drowning. I am drowning in water and ash and smoke. Wait, smoke? My body feels overly warm and my lungs are burning with water and I am sure this is what dying feels like. It is a complex mixture of hot fire and cold water, a soothing touch to the burn of life. This, however, isn't death. I roll off my of bed quickly, coughing violently and wretching onto the floor. My body heaves and I feel myself go slack, my arms shoved out to stop me from falling into what the water has let me expel. My ears pick up on the crackling and I push myself to stand, legs still wobbly from having so recently gotten on shore. I'm not used to the solid ground yet. I can see those bitches Ivy and Pyrian from across the flames that cover my bed. I don't know why I'm surprise.

"The fuck did you two do to my bed? Really?"

[florentine, d4b ❁]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8086/8395194440_1d4d7fd413_m.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ] ivy soren.

[/font]

you are my sweetest downfall
i loved you first, i loved you first
beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
i have to go, i have to go

[/center][/i]

Ever since my Mama told me about career districts, I wanted to belong to one. As a child, I was known to flail around sticks and declare that I was training for the Games and that my classmates were all below my notice. I was a Victor in my mind, filled with envy for the brainwashed individuals that haunt the tribute positions of one, two and four.

"The fuck did you two do to my bed? Really?" demands Ripley, falling on the floor and emptying the contents of his stomach at my feet. Somebody had too much pudding. "Rise and shine, sleepy head!" I say, doing my absolute best to be friendly. I wonder if he's noticed his bed is burning down, then smile at him for good measure.

"Well, don't just stand there, kids!" I turn to Freakshow and realise he can't hear me. I don't actually know sign language, but I flap my hands around in front of his face for a few seconds, hoping he's not thick as well as blind deaf

[/i].

A foul smell meets me as I turn away, looking for a way to extinguish the fire myself. (A girl's got to do everything around here.) It's sickening - finally I understand why Mama told us to stay out of boy's bedrooms. My fingers close around a bottle of something else, and I toss it into the quickly growing inferno in fast-fading hope. Nope, more liquor.

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and history books forgot about us
and the bible didn't mention us
and the bible didn't mention us, not even once
you are my sweetest downfall

[/center][/i]
[/center]

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[Python]

- - - - - -

Pyrian stood mesmerized by the tendrils of flames, so absorbed in the flickering colors and patterns he almost neglected the Ripley boy’s squirming when he tumbled out of bed and vomited all over the capitol building’s luxurious carpets.

Sick. He wrinkled is nose and scoffed. Maybe now he’d think twice before badgering a Keeni. Eat flames, district four. The prospect of Noah Ripley without a cozy bed to sleep on pleased him, and whatever escaped his lips in protest went ignored. Pyrian was too busy basking in his own fiery pride and glory to care about his opinions.

Then, two things happened in a very short amount of time: one, the girl - poison ivy or something - spoke to him and waved her hands in front of his face like a maniac. The movements left him distracted and unable to comprehend what she had said. The fuck? Does she think I’m blind? There was no time to respond to the girls idiocy, for the moment he tried to swat her hands away she found another bottle of liquor and emptied its contents onto the dancing flames - except, there was small problem to take into consideration: as soon as the towers of fire reaching for the ceiling grew, a storm of ice water ambushed the quarters. Is it raining in here?! How- The silver sprinklers on the ceiling remained hidden in shadows, releasing endless spouts of water that reduced the beautiful flames to nothing but black scorches in a slow, sad, and painful death. Pyrian scowled and shivered. What the fuck just happened?[/color][/justify][/blockquote]

[wimdy]

The heat is already intense enough to make my skin prickle and my lungs burn. Ivy flings more fire into the inferno, the flames roiling and bubbling up in high arches. They lick at the high frames and the cold walls until everything is alight with bright bursts of orange and red. It dances fluidly upward, beautiful and bright and alluring, but my eyes are stuck on the asshole who started this mess in my bed. The light has his face completely ablaze and his eyes are twinkling with amazement. He can't stop looking at the razing fire that is currently ravaging what is supposed to be my home for the remainder of the training. He doesn't even fucking seem to care that my fucking bed is on fucking fire.

A growl rumbles from my throat and I stumble around my bed to the other side, my fists screaming my intent if my face isn't already. Just as my arm tenses and my hand raises, I feel a burning on my leg. It's gone in a flash of my pants and suddenly I am standing pantsless next to my burning bed with Ivy Soren putting on my pantsfire on the ground. The fight drains out of me and is left with a growing sense of dread and disbelief. In the next second, sprinklers spring to work and douse what is left of my sad excuse of a bed. I sink down onto the edge of it, letting my head fall into my hands and my eyes close. This is seriously not happening. Not now.

"You couldn't have possibly left me with one shred of dignity, could you? Thanks. Thanks, really, I appreciate that one, you bitches," I hiss, staring up at them through narrow eyes. They don't even react, not even when I stand again in all my pantsless, underwearonly glory and take a step forward to get into both of their faces. "Find me a fucking place to sleep."

[florentine, d4b ❁]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8086/8395194440_1d4d7fd413_m.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ] ivy soren.

[/font]

you are my sweetest downfall
i loved you first, i loved you first
beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
i have to go, i have to go

[/center][/i]

I'm not entirely sure how these boys will survive without me. Although, on second thoughts, I'd rather they don't. I sigh loudly, trying to be heard over the sound of the water that has begun to fall like a storm inside the bedroom. (I remember the storm I spent sheltering with Indigo and push it away again.) I glance upward, noticing with amusement that Ripley has managed to set his pants alight and the flames are quickly climbing his legs. Bet Ripley's never been this hot before.

I'd apologise for my sudden invasion of his pant-related privacy, but I'm kind of in a hurry as I tug down his offending item of clothing and tear it out from underneath him. "Seriously, kid?" I ask, looking Ripley square in the eye and raising an eyebrow. "You're blushing? You do realise Freakshow can't see, right?" I laugh out loud, pushing the water out of my hair before it smudges my eyeliner.

He turns to me, demanding to know where he's going to sleep. Poor Ripley, baby. Not much up there, and not much down below, either. "Well, well. Looks like you're sharing with Freakshow tonight. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you both."

[/blockquote][/justify][/color]

and history books forgot about us
and the bible didn't mention us
and the bible didn't mention us, not even once
you are my sweetest downfall

[/center][/i]
[/center]

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[Python]

- - - - - -

The falling icicles destroyed the fire.

Damn it. There was more smoke than flame now, a suffocating blanket of murky shadows rising to the ceiling trying to escape the soul of the dying flames, but despite the obnoxious amount of smog Pyrian could still gaze through it and immediately spotted the angry Ripley boy storming over to him with anything but kind intentions. Before he could lay a filthy hand on him, however, a speck of a flame landed on his pants, immediately engulfing every inch of fabric it could. At this, Pyrian laughed and felt the sensation vibrate in his chest, though he would never hear his own voice.

To make matters more amusing (and a bit awkward, but still funny), the Ivy girl, still an idiot, tore the boy’s pants off before the flames could consume him entirely. Now, without a drop of dignity remaining (it was perfectly hilarious, really) he stood by the bedside, appearing more enraged than ever. “Find me a fucking place to sleep.” Believe it or not, emotional people actually pronounced words more fluidly and with more exact movements compared to the average, tranquil speaker, and it was because of this Pyrian was able to recognize every word, including the nasty curse. Not that a few offensive words could actually bother the delinquent.

Ivy, on the other hand, was still difficult to read. She was perfectly calm in this chaotic situation - he appreciated that - but what she said to them he knew would not escape his attention. “Looks like you're sharing with Freakshow tonight.” Freakshow, a lot of people called him that, so he assumed she was referring to him. ”Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on you both.” An eye? Both? Oh, hell no. ”No.” There was no way he would be sharing a room with the likes of that boy. He would rather die.[/color][/blockquote][/justify]

[wimdy]

I'm not sure who to dislike more at the moment. Do I choose Pyrian, the boy who can't seem to resist lighting my things on fire? Or do I choose Ivy, the girl who has an apparent need to make me feel like an idiot? In a matter of days, they've both come to be a common occurrence of, usually, my pain or misfortune in life. Everything goes wrong around them. Sometimes though, that wrongness feels so right and I find myself laughing and rolling my eyes. Then, I remember where we are. And then everything in the world feels wrong again and I can't stop it.

"You're blushing? You do realize Freakshow can't see, right?" I turn to face Ivy, blinking slowly while taking in what she says. Freakshow? Is that what she's calling him now? The fact of the matter is that she's dumb, especially considering she clearly chooses to ignore that Pyrian is just as function as the rest of us, except for the fact he can't hear. My face twists in disgust for a moment before I scoff, tilting my head back and letting the water rush over my face. "He's fucking deaf, not blind, you moron. Are you really that stupid? Or are you just that ignorant of his disability?"

Her next words have me glaring at her like there's fire in my eyes but really there's just smoke in my lungs. The sprinklers stop suddenly and then a vent starts up and the air clears of the smog that had settled. The smell still saturates everything and I let my glare shoot over to Pyrian. He'd started this whole mess and now it was just continuing out of his hands. Even he protests to the idea of me sleeping in with him. "If you think I'm having a sleepover with you two little bitches, then you've obviously got something wrong with your head. Were you dropped on your head as a child? Maybe you're the one with the real disability."