Bright Lights, Bigger City [Kale]

[Deleted]

Benat Izar

•••
And it may just be more of the same
But sometimes you wanna go where everyone knows your name
So I guess I'll have to wait and see
But I'm just gonna let something brand new happen to me
•••

They had been released for the day, and every bone in Benat’s body ached. He was quite sure that training was supposed to help improve his chances of winning the games, and not incapacitate him. This was the contradiction; the less he tried to exert himself or pay attention, the more he seemed to injure himself. He was the first to leave the training center—practically burst out of the double doors that led into the dining hall, not even stopping to look back if anyone was following him. He gobbled down everything within reach, not even pausing mid-burp, only shoveling more and more of whatever they’d laid out for them. It was better for him to get out of this place, and back to the living quarters. He had decided the less time he spent inside this dreadful place, the better. Nevermind the importance of making new friends, or studying the weaknesses of his competitors. They were all head and shoulders above Benat, anyway—why would he want to show them just how right they were?

He spent the next half-hour taking a hot shower, and wiped away the sweat and grime from his body. He’d face planted more times than he cared to count, and had nearly broken his back falling from the rope climbing exercise. He’d scalded his hands while trying to make a fire, and was pretty sure he’d heard snickering from others as he once again failed to hit a target with one of the throwing knives. They’d taken them away from him—or rather, told him practice something else—for fear of possibly impaling a fellow tribute. And so he relaxed in the shower, thinking only of the sights of the capitol, the technology at his fingertips, and just exactly what he was going to say during his interview. At least he could have some talent doing that. No thoughts on actually fighting, however—that could be saved until the very last moment.

He wandered the halls of his quarters, which seemed empty and devoid of anything other than the creepy avoxes. Benat didn’t care for them—he didn’t feel right being served by people who didn’t have tongues. There was something nasty about the whole business. He was much better used to doing things on his own, and taking care of his younger brothers. It was this thought that drove him to the liquor cabinet—of his little brothers running and laughing—causing Benat to grab at a carafe of whiskey. His first thought was to pour a glass, but, thinking better, simply drank right from it. He nearly spit out the first sip—it was entirely too strong for a young man like Benat. But the burn felt good, and he knew it would lend himself to clearer thinking later.

Belle was still absent, and truth be told Benat couldn’t be happier. Their adventure on the train had made him wary. He took another drink, thinking how empty this whole place seemed. There was so much empty space, and not enough people to fill it. This wasn’t like the little shack he and his family lived in, where they would pile cousins and aunts and uncles in for a family dinner. No, there was enough space for each and every person to feel as alone as they were supposed to. Benat took another long drink. Yep. As alone as they wanted to be, whether they liked it or not.

[/color] Perhaps it was the liquor in his veins, his lighthearted rebelliousness, or the itch to explore something new, but Benat made his way out into the hallway. He hoped that there might be something to distract him from his thoughts—if even for a little while.

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[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

there's a sick little suicide in all that we do
you decide, which one's for you?

Asunder could feel his left bicep quivering, just from reaching for the elevator button. It was funny, and it was sad, and all of that he thought abstractly, rather than felt. Other than his trembling muscles. That he definitely felt. It reminded him of years ago, when he was first handed a pickax and told to separate coal from rock. It was almost a good memory, strange as that now was. He closed his eyes, let it roll over him until the elevator dinged, ghostly empty inside.

Most tributes had already taken to their rooms, having finished training and their meals earlier. Not Asunder. Constantly late and always last besides, he was invariably the last tribute to bed, but perhaps one of the first to sleep. After so many nights on the frozen earth, breathing in deadly chemicals, a Capitol bed was not to be sneezed at. He fell asleep peacefully, easily, each night, totally ignorant of what was to come. Except that Asunder knew what was ahead of him already, knew that a death in the arena was better, more noble, more noteworthy than be crushed by soot and rocks. He didn't dream. He didn't have nightmares. In fact for the first time in his life he felt fully awake each morning, alert each day.

If that wasn't miraculous, he didn't know what was.

The elevator ascended, shifting his gait. It wasn't much, but with knees askew and feet too big for his height, it sent Asunder stumbled into the nearest wall. His shoulder jarred, his bicep complained, and when the elevator deposited him one level shy of his goal, he didn't even notice.

He blinked at the boy holding a carafe of golden liquid. He thought about the scenario for a second, just one, and then ventured, "if that's some sort of chemical for my wrinkles, you're going to have to strap me down first." He looked to the boy, presumably a stylist, and held his breath.

banner credit: thg's izoe
song: the matches sick little suicide

[Deleted]

Benat Izar

•••
And it may just be more of the same
But sometimes you wanna go where everyone knows your name
So I guess I'll have to wait and see
But I'm just gonna let something brand new happen to me
•••

Whenever alcohol had been passed around, it was a clear moonshine borne from the nearly rotted potatoes of neighbors fields. It tasted like hellfire—burned on the way down his throat and into his stomach. Its only purpose? To intoxicate and to make shyness disappear. Benat would never like to admit it, but his foolishness helped shroud from rejection—when he was told no it was easier to laugh it off, drunken and silly, than in seriousness. The glass carafe held a fine liquor, however, and he already was able to drink much more of it than he had intended. A bit of the fine whiskey dribbled off of his chin as he reached the elevator. The click of the shaft and ding of a buzzer signaled someone else was coming, but to his relief, it was a tribute he didn’t really recognize.

The boy remarked something about a cream for his face, and Benat cracked a brow. He looked from the carafe to the boy and back again. “I’ve heard of alcohol cleaning cuts but I don’t think it’s any good on the face,” Benat replied with a burp. The boy was rougher looking—definitely one of the lower districters, if he could remember. It made him more at ease, knowing that he didn’t have as much to impress (or fear) from this boy. “But It’s whatever you want it to be, you know. Allowed to do whatever we want this week, right?” He lifted up the glass to his lips and took another long sip. “Oooh, shit. That is probably not going to make me feel good tomorrow. But it sure as hell makes me feel better now.”

That, and it helped his head swim further away from prying thoughts and visions of bloodbaths. He extended his arm out to the other boy, offering the drink to him. “Benat Izar, district eleven. How’re you doing… slim?” He propped up another nickname—distancing himself from whatever he was really called—and let out another burp. “Beat up as I am? Or are you one of the ones that likes all of this…” He waved the drink, nearly spilling some of it out onto the floor, “Hullabaloo. Can’t wait until I get to show off in front of those gamemakers. I figure I’ll do what I do best… make ‘em laugh!” With this he angled the drink back toward Asunder, at last ready to relinquish his prize.

[/size][/justify]

[Tom Hiddelston...jk it's kale.]

Axel knew it had been another hard day of training. He loved the feeling of being exhausted. It reminded him of home a little. Like he was normal again and could be himself. He hadn't actually got to be himself here, it was all being fake and what not. It was starting to piss him off. He hadn't had any time to talk to his mentor which made it worse. But he knew now was a time to eat and he was going to do that. He saw the doors for food and went toward them.

He walked through and saw the amount of food there. Some of it looked interesting, and some of it looked like crap. He went to something that looked like it was from home. It smelled like chicken or something another. He didn't care, he grabbed a plate from the table and stacked the awkward food onto the plate. He didn't care if anyone cared or not if he took the food. He was beyond caring. He lost the one thing he cared for so he was more of a F**K it person now.

He walked to the elevator eating the food. It was crunchy when he bit it down, but he knew it was chicken flavored. He saw the elevator doors open and he walked in to the nice looking one. He knew he could head straight to his floor, but what was the point, he knew not of one. He decided to see if he could get in any trouble. He hit the button to the floor just above his. He knew it would be interesting seeing what they had in the other floors.

He felt the machine move, it started to speed up on him. It was interesting, like a mechanism that was odd, but yet epic at the same time. He felt it start to slow down and come to a stop. Then the doors opened. In front of him was two people, one he noticed as the district 12 tribute. He didn't know him at all. But he did seem like someone who was in the wrong place. The other person he knew not of. Maybe a mentor or stylist, specially with that liquid. Axel thought this guy could possibly be a little drunk, so he knew it was play time a little.

He walked off the elevator and looked around. He spoke up announcing himself int the room. "Hey Y'all. My name is Axel, I think I might have done something wrong or what not on that machine thing. But well, as we are here and I expect us to get in some sort of trouble if we are caught, lets get to know each other, since I bet we will be trying to kill each other soon. Am I right." He waited for something to signify him to either come farther in or to get out. He wasn't really use to anything he did not know.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

there's a sick little suicide in all that we do
you decide, which one's for you?

It was the burping, more than Benat's words, that relaxed Asunder. Of course, for the gangly boy from Twelve, relaxed looked a lot like someone else's nervous. He held his arms out, elbows making triangels, knees following those lines. And that's just how his body worked. He gave a little shrug, grinned when he realized that Benat was being quite serious. Strangely serious though, in a way that he couldn't quite put his finger on, until he'd thought about it for a little while.

Benat was drunk. The sort of state that only rich Capitolites could be, not coal-poor miners like himself. It was suddenly so tempting, so exotic and wealthy that Asunder stumbled forward, reaching for the carafe with his elbow locked, a zombie daze overtaking his features. He switched course at the last minute, picking up a tumbler from the side table, and then thrust it under Benat's nose. "Tomorrow?" he asked, completely unaware of what it would bring. For now, all he wanted was the amber liquid. "Fill 'er up!" He said, in a slightly squealed imitation of the Capitolite parties he'd seen on the television.

He knew, he knew that it must taste like cake and chocolate and salt and butter combined. The way everyone who could afford anything drank it, it had to be ambrosia. He watched as Benat sloshed whiskey into the crystal, the liquid glowing. It was perhaps one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Besides the diamond he had once roughed out of the coal. That had been taken away from him instantly, and he wasn't about to let anyone do that to the whiskey, magical stuff as it was. "Slim. You know, yeah. Good of you to pour, Benat from Eleven. And shit, son, I don't even know where I am half the time and the other half I'm too late to do anything about it."

He grinned, an admission of his most obvious flaw, besides his knocking knees, was always a good conversation starter. Asunder drew the crystal to his chest, cradled it as Axel entered.

He turned, trying to hide the glass with his bony arms as the boy from Ten announced himself. Asunder found himself chuckling silently, nearly dry heaving, before he was even done. And with that he shot out his hand. "You are a trip, man. Killing each other. What even. Asunder here, and this is Benat. Oh shit. I'm 'Slim', actually. What's he?" Asunder jerked his head at Axel, waiting for Benat to christian him.

banner credit: thg's izoe
song: the matches sick little suicide

[Deleted]

Benat Izar
•••
And it may just be more of the same
But sometimes you wanna go where everyone knows your name
So I guess I'll have to wait and see
But I'm just gonna let something brand new happen to me
•••

Benat ignored the mention of killing. He sniffed his nose and shrugged his shoulders in reply. What else was the boy to do, other than try to forget about the fact that these very same boys might be the ones holding him down and stabbing him into the stomach? I need to drink more, Benat thought to himself, happy that Asunder had decided to partake in his little merriment. He was a bag of bones that probably weighed about ten pounds wet,

[/color]Benat reckoned, But he’s nice enough.[/color] And to Benat, the most important thing was that he was able to join in on the fun—he wanted nothing to do with the types of boys that wanted to sulk or thrash about when it came to their lot. Especially here and now. Life was a banquet[/color], he took another long sip of the alcohol, And half the poor suckers are starving to death![/color] Or so his grandmother used to say.

He enjoyed the feeling of being drunk, and wished he could keep it with him for the rest of training. Training would have been so much more bearable if they gave them a choice between participating or not. Shouldn’t they have all gotten the chance to run amok in the Capitol before the games, rather than subjecting them to two weeks of hardship? Some of them wouldn’t even make it past the starting gong, and it was inherently unfair to Benat that they would spend their last moments trying to figure out the proper way to tie and over-under knot. He was moved to drink one more time, and let out another loud belch.

“You know,” Benat turned to face Axel and study him. He closed one eye and squinted the other. He moved back and forth on his feet, attempting to read the boy’s facial features in the light. “Salamander. Yup. That’s it. Salamander.” Benat took another drink, this time feeling less of a burn as it went down his gullet. “Long face, beady eyes. Cute, kind of lanky. Totally a Salamander.” He grinned, pleased with himself for the wholly inaccurate description of Axel. He had nothing against the boy, rather, all of his nicknames were spur of the moment, and tended to be neutral unless provoked. The alcohol might have made him a wee bit braver than usual, but the only image that Benat had for Axel—one that made him smile—was when he would scoop up little salamanders in the creek with his brothers. They’d sit and laugh as the things slipped out of their hands, always getting away before they could get a good grip on them.

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[Tom Hiddelston...jk it's kale.]

Axel saw the two drinking some of the liquid. He knew it well because there was enough of it in his apartment. He never did care for it because it caused people to act a lot differently then themselves. As he noticed with the babbling the two were doing right now. He saw the district twelve trib announce his name as Asunder. It was a interesting name to axel. He also heard him announce the somewhat drunk district eleven tribute as benat. Asunder went on something about slim. But axel was more focused on the rambling that Benat was doing.

He heard him say something about a salamander. It confused Axel for a little. But he grabbed another piece of the food that was in his hands and ate it. He rather be eating food then talking, specially around people not themselves. He walked in farther to the apartment and saw a couple of chairs. He grabbed one and sat in it. He knew he just invited himself in, but he didn't care. He had enough standing to last the rest of his life.

He looked at the two who were sharing the drink now. He spoke to them after he swallowed the last of his food that was in his mouth. "So what are y'all talking about and by the look of it seems like you are drinking. Last I checked drinking could kill you, but 23 of us will be dead soon. Right." He looked at the two guys, wondering what they were thinking. He stuffed his face with the chicken again, just to keep himself from blurting something else out that is stupid.