Smoke on the Water (Open)

[The Jabberwock]

***FACT:***
We are all going to to die.

This fact struck me particularly hard one night while I was walking home from work. As I walked through the dark, smoggy streets of District 3 to my undersized apartment, from my job, where I barely scrapped out enough to pay for both living and school, I looked at the river.

It barely counted as a river, actually. A thin trickle of foggy water that I looked down on from the slightly raised shoulder next to the street. Algae floated on it, and where the moon bounced off of it, you could see the shimmery rainbows playing on the surface, broadcasting the pollution of District 3 to the world. Or at least, whatever world could see this pitiful excuse of a river.

But that wasn't what caught my eye.

I stumbled clumsily off the shoulder, over the rocky back to the edge of the river to get a better look.

Something like fog, but not fog, shimmered over the water. Too dark to be fog, it struck a rather romantic chord in me. A small cloud of black pollution drifted over the small, helpless river. Downstream, a large factory dumped all it's excess into this small, helpless river. Above me, the fat, red, glorious moon was covered in a shroud; a film of dirt and grim that any of the people of District 3 got when they wandered the streets.

I sat on the bank, next to my little stream. I opened my bottle of coke and took a sip. In a daze, I layed back against the rocky soil, feeling the rocks jab into my back. I watched the moon.

"Fact," I said, feeling the romantic in me twitch. "We will all die.

I hope that was a good first post. ^ ^

[aya]

Like a thief, Anberlin delicately and quietly made her way back to the housing sector of the factory district. Back to the one-bedroom apartment she shared with her parents and two older brothers. Five people. Three rooms total. It was cramped, at the bare minimum.

Like most of the factory workers, everyone in her family was overworked and underpaid. Even when both her parents plus her eldest brother worked twelve hour days in their factories, there would be nights when there wasn't food on the table. A combined day and a half of labor wasn't enough to feed five--two of them not even all the way grown.

Still, they'd managed to make ends meet somehow, and now were well enough off. All five of them now slaved away. Money was still stretched nearly to the breaking point, but they were in better shape than they'd been.

She paused and gave a deep, hacking cough. Working in factories did have some occupational hazards. Although, it wasn't as if you could go anywhere in District Three and not subject yourself to a million airborne chemicals. Drawing a deep breath and adjusting the sack on her shoulder, Anberlin continued along on her way home, spare parts that she'd been allowed to take home for tinkering--her pastime--clinking in the bag they were in.

She hadn't been walking for more than a minute more when she stopped dead.

"Fact," a voice said out of nowhere, startling her and rendering her completely immobile. "We will all die."

A chill ran up Anberlin's spine. What did that mean? After a stretch of time that seemed to expand for infinity, she chose her words.

"Yes..."[/size] A slip here could be dangerous. Who knew what the voice was thinking, what their intentions were? It was as though she had to leaf through a dictionary to find each word she meant to use before she said it. "But that doesn't mean that we have to spend every minute waiting for it."[/size][/color][/blockquote]

[The Jabberwock]

After a long, calm silence, I heard someone say slowly, "Yes... But that doesn't mean that we have to spend every minute waiting for it."

I laughed.

"But," I said with a smile, not getting up. "That's all we, as humans, do. We ponder and wait for the end. We spend even longer wondering how it will happen. The basic state of existance for we as a race." I still didn't get up, but I called, "I'm Noiry."

[/center]

[aya]

The owner of the voice--Noiry--seemed benevolent enough. More like a philosopher of sorts, a thinker, musing aloud. Anberlin felt all her muscles ease up at once. "Noiry."

[/size] She tested the word on her tongue. "It is quite a pleasure to meet you and I am called Anberlin."[/size]

She set her sack of parts down at her feet, giving her arm and shoulder a bit of a break, as it was likely that this would not be a short conversation. "Perhaps what you say is true for the general population of humans, but I myself have little time to spend theorizing about one event that will take place on one day of the tens of thousands that I get here. Though--true--it is quite apparent that as a population in general, yes, we wonder about the inevitable. How else would you explain palm reading or tarot cards?"[/size]

She made no movement towards Noiry's seat along the edge of the river, having no desire to intrude. She was always a "wait for permission" type of person in general; it was how she was raised.
[/color][/blockquote]

[ja'mie]

The day had run out. What had she done again? Oh yeah...she had read.

It was stupid, she realized now. She had already read those books many times, over and over, studying the small fine print.

And as much as "Theories of the World" fascinated her, she realized now that she should have done something else with her life that day.

After all, life was precious in Panem. Every year twenty-three people died of the Hunger Games; you never knew when you could be one of those twenty-three.

No used regretting it now though. The day was through, and Ailie would try to make better use of the night.

"...How else would you explain palm reading or tarot cards?"

Ailie paused, looking out to her left quietly. She saw another girl, looking to be about her age. For a moment, Ailia thought about the words just spoken .They could not be directed at her in such a random fashion so there must be another person close by (unless the girl was talking to herself), . Looking down, she found the "other person close by".

Only catching that last snippet of conversation, Ailia didn't know whether to keep moving or lag. Since she had obviously already shown herself by stopping to look at the two citizens, it might seem rude to just keep walking. She had promised herself that she would make good use of this night. And this seemed promising. The company of others might do her good.
Plus, tarot cards and palm reading did sound interesting.

So Ailia introduced herself. "I'm Ailia. Sorry to intrude," she stated quietly, but with assurance.

((The reason I quoted only the last of Anberlin's words, was because that's all Ailia heard. Just saying that now for no confusion later, if any. n.n))