Gimme Something to Remember // [Open]

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

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

By the third night in the training center, Asunder had found his routine. Rise early, snooze while his stylists worked on the deep, old-man-esque wrinkles around his mouth and cheeks, gobble something left over from breakfast down, go through his stations, always the last in the rotation. That was the spot reserved for the most decorated district in recent memory: dead last. Asunder didn't mind, especially. It had just become a part of his day to day life. Wait until the end of the line, jerk his chin at Meela in mutual understanding of their position.

He'd stuck close to Aranica for the first day but thereafter made his own path. He'd followed around the Careers, and then the nobodies like himself. He'd made passes at conversation that usually ended in extended periods of silence that made his skin crawl. Then he'd go back to swinging his axe, chopping up logs of wood that splintered instead of shattered. With all the logs he had felled in the last few days he could have lit the Training Center itself on fire.

But of course, he didn't. He just dragged himself behind the others to the dining hall, waited to be the last person served, and then took a modest portion. There really wasn't much point in being greedy; he was more likely to throw up the rich food than keep it down. Asunder chewed thoughtfully on a piece of cherry glazed duck, and finally tuned into the conversation.

It made him stop mid-bite. He partially swallowed, some of the masticated meat still rolling over his tongue as he said, "you really think the Games are just for sport?" He asked, and felt the hush of the table in the sudden seizure of his heart beat.

He swallowed. "It's historical. So that we all remember," he tried, words fitting like razor-edged cubes in his mouth. "Right?" He ended shrilly.

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

[Deleted]

[bg=222222][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style,width: 500px] and so the sky becomes a dream i never dreamt because i'm just too busy waiting for nothing and wasting away and so the sky, it watched my dreams fall to pieces right in front of me 'cause i'm just too busy waiting for nothing and wasting away While there’s something about the plastic veneer of the Capitol that turns my stomach, something in the eager smiles of the people here as they pretty us up for the slaughter, at least the food is good. There’s more of it here than I’ve ever seen in one place in my entire life, whole tables of rich soups and exotic salads that I can’t help wolfing down despite the hate that simmers in my veins for the people that put it in front of us. Still, lunchtime fills me with a quiet sense of dread. It’s not the food that makes me apprehensive; it’s the other tributes. Every time I make eye contact with one of them, a spike of paranoia whispers that they’re sizing me up, figuring out the best way to kill me. They’ll find that I’m not so easy to get rid of. I hope. “You really think the Games are just for sport?” the boy from Twelve pipes up, interjecting in another conversation. I grit my teeth around the scathing remark that rises in response, solid in the knowledge that I’m not the best at making friends but making enemies will do me no good. It’s not his fault we’re all stuck here. “It's historical. So that we all remember, right?” “What difference does it make?!” I finally snap, slamming my fork down with unnecessary force and whipping my head around to glare at him balefully. My temper was never the easiest to control, and with tensions running as high as they are it was only a matter of time before I lost it. “What’s the point in knowing what we’re dying for? Being aware of the purpose we serve won’t make us any less dead.” It’s a hideous, morbid thought, one that brings my speech to a stuttering halt as the table looks at me in the wake of my outburst. Prickly heat spreads over my cheekbones, and I duck my head quickly, a few curls that my stylists have conditioned into tendrils of crimson silk falling down to conceal my face. my hands writhe together in my lap, callused from work and home, and the sudden pang of longing that wracks through my chest softens the razored edge to my voice when I finally manage to find my words again. “Whatever it is, it’s sick.” and i'd never wish for anything more than to find what i've been looking for and i swore to myself i wouldn't lie to myself how could i let this happen? so i take myself aside to take the time to tell myself its alright 'cause you weren't there to dry my eyes

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[sbeeg]

Being from the first district of Panem definitely had its perks. Always chosen to go first and set at the front of the line to lead the others. Being at the front of the dinner line didn't hurt either, you got the warmest food and the your choice of where to sit in the hall. The only downfall to it was that others could choose to sit around you and sometimes they weren't the best companions to sit with. Despite the lowliness of their Districts, they proved to be some interesting people to watch. Some seemed scared, some overly confident and some kids looked just like the ones at school back in One.

A little further down the table a discussion about the Games erupted, like they tend to do since that's pretty much the only topic the tributes had in common, and a boy burst out with the most ridiculous thing Viridian had ever heard. "you really think the Games are just for sport?" The tone of his voice caught Viri's ear and he turned to take the boy in. Honestly, Viri couldn't place the face to any names that had been flying around since the Reaping.

"Was that a serious question?" Viri asked, his eyes brows knit together as he stared at the boy. What else would the Games possibly be other than a game? Sure it had some high stakes but that was what made it worth while.

[Kolo Osei]

After training, Kolo decided to grab something to eat. The food back home is nothing compared to the food here. To him anyways. He slowly walked towards the dining hall, avoiding the tributes that he passes by but remembering their faces. Few minutes has passed and he finally got into the dining hall, seeing other tributes already on the seats while being served. Kolo sat on a vacant seat and waited to be served.

As the food arrived, he slowly took a bite of the dish, cherishing the flavor since this might be the last time that he would taste something this delicious. The room was filled with silence. Of course, no one would want to talk to the person that might kill them. He just shrugged it off and continue eating the juicy fried chicken. Nom nom nom.

"You really think the Games are just for sport?" The silence was broken by a sudden voice coming from a boy. Kolo stared at the boy for a few seconds but turned his attention back to the fried chicken. "To the Capitol maybe. I bet they enjoy these games." Saying with a low toned voice as he took a bite on the chicken.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

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

Asunder's check twitches as River responds, all fury and anguish. He knows her name. They've been over names a lot, although he can't remember much else about the other twenty-three. Well, other than Meela. But for some reason Asunder found it even more awkward than a normal run-of-the-mill conversation to talk to her. Probably because they had a lot in common. Probably because, if she won, he knew she'd have to talk about him eventually. And he just wanted to be forgotten.

It seemed to him that River might feel that way, too. He agreed, distantly, his eyes flickering upwards even as he spoke to her. "Guess you're right. Doesn't really matter what the point is, since we're all here already." And it was very matter of fact. Asunder didn't care that it was him, or River, or Viridian, or Kolo.

They were just warm bodies for the slaughter.

He took another look at the rich cherry duck and put his utensils down. One more bite and he was sure to ralph, right there, in front of his potential murderers. He managed a toothy grin at Viridian. "Was that a serious answer?" He asked, his voice cracking mid-mock. Now that really reminded him of home, of being deep in the mines, riffing on his buddies so that they would all forget they were already deep inside a grave.

Another silence stretched, no more awkward than Asunder was used to. And then one of their quietest companions spoke up. He swung his wide gaze over to Kolo, and felt the laughter on his lips before he recognized the sound of his hyena chuckle.

He slapped a palm over his mouth, steadied himself, before speaking, "You know what, I bet they do. What do you say to that, River?"

He took in one last deep breath to dispel the giggles, and it was like a braying donkey had inhaled all of its oats at once.

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

[Deleted]

[bg=222222][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style,width: 500px] and so the sky becomes a dream i never dreamt because i'm just too busy waiting for nothing and wasting away and so the sky, it watched my dreams fall to pieces right in front of me 'cause i'm just too busy waiting for nothing and wasting away Stark Harper’s baby brother is all inflated condescension as he looks down his nose at the rest of us (you aren’t the only one who’s lost someone they care about to the Capitol’s loving trap, little boy. Step down from your pedestal before I decide to shove you.) in time with his reply, and it sets my teeth so far on edge that I barely even hear the boy from Nine chime in. “To the Capitol, maybe. I bet they enjoy these Games.” District Twelve laughs shrilly, hysterically, like someone teetering on the edge of oblivion. I want to feel sorry for him until he opens his mouth. “You know what, I bet they do. What do you say to that, River?” If I were smart, I’d realize that he was poking me with a proverbial stick just to figure out where my limits are, to see how far he can push me before I reach my breaking point. Patrick had warned me that some might take that approach (you best watch your temper, girl. You and Ripley aren’t going to make any friends runnin’ those mouths of yours), might search for the weaknesses that a whole country already saw bundled up in my arms on Reaping Day, told me that if I was smart, I wouldn’t let them get to me. But I’m not smart. I’m angry. I’m so angry at the world and everyone in it that all of the rage beneath my skin swells like a tidal wave and blinds me. “Good for them. I’m so glad they’re entertained,” I hiss, lips dripping venom as I clutch the edge of the table so hard that my nails dig into the wood. “It’s nice to know that at least someone will be entertained while your familes watch you all bleed out in high definition. At least someone will be entertained while they bury us and while the people we left behind try to start over and while my daughter grows up without her parents. But hey, that’s the entertainment industry. So laugh it up, Twelve.” It’s a dangerous move, my judgment whispers, making threats I don’t know if I can back up, but something so virulent and hateful sears in my veins as my eyes meet his that I can’t stop the next few words from blooming over my lips, low and deadly. “Maybe I’ll hop on the bandwagon and laugh, too, when I see that pretty little face of yours up in the sky.” and i'd never wish for anything more than to find what i've been looking for and i swore to myself i wouldn't lie to myself how could i let this happen? so i take myself aside to take the time to tell myself its alright 'cause you weren't there to dry my eyes

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[sbeeg]

Very few things have made Viridian Harper smile as of late. Being Reaped had been one of them, but the grin had left a bittersweet taste against his lips. Sometimes the faint memory of a smile would bring one to his mouth but it was never a genuine smirk in response to something that actually shined light on the dark corners of his mind.

"Was that a serious answer?" He had to admit, Twelve had some spunk. It wasn't until the grin had curled the corners of his mouth up that he even realized he was smiling but once had he couldn't stop. Viri never thought a coal kid could counter the dry Harper humor. They always seemed so downtrodden and gloomy, evidently that role had be reassigned to District Four.

"...while they bury us and while the people we left behind try to start over..." Lies. When someone close to you passes you can't just start over. Above all else, Viridian was sure of that. You cannot just restart your life from the beginning, pretending that person wasn't there. That isn't living, it is acting and is no way to go about your years. Maybe people go about grieving in different ways- this River girl obviously seemed very adamant about forgetting while Viridian was dead set on remembering. Of course Stark had been such a strong presence it was hard to just to go on without her. He had to include her, even if it was just sitting by her grave and spit balling at what she might tell him. Most of it was obscene and rude but it was Stark.

...while they bury us... Who was left to bury another Harper? It had been Viri who saw Stark off and it was he who welcomed her back home. There would be no such comforts for Viridian when he went back to One- dead or alive.

Heavy thoughts had made the boy lose his appetite. Setting his fork down he set his eyes on the boy who's name he had yet to learn. "I'm Viridian," he said, extending his hand across to table for the boy to take. One and Twelve. How ironic.

[Wispy]

I can feel you all around me.
Thickening the air I'm breathing.
Holding on to what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing

It was apparent the minute I stepped into the room. No, not just the room, every where. It was on Reaping day, in the apartments, and in the training center. I was the youngest among mostly seventeen through eighteen year-old's. Which was a long way of saying I was screwed. I know I shouldn't doubt myself this early in the game. Hell, I should be playing 'miss life of the party' right now. Trying to get in good with everyone that I see. But that's not me. Never has been and definitely never will be.

Everyone's running around doing their own thing. Different voices, different movements, and different conversations. All sort of morphing together in one big noisy mess, struggling to make a melody out of nonsense. There's a huge elephant in the room that's been pointed out repeatedly and the frustrating thing is that no one wants to acknowledge it. We're all too busy playing our violins and blowing into our saxophones that we try to drown out the composer's instructions. And here I am playing right along with them in a corner with my silent flute. God, how I wished that the Gamemakers would kill us and name a victor already! This stress is pointless and I don't think I can take much more with my sanity still in tact.

I don't want to talk to them. I know I have to, but every bit of heart screams at me not to. Of course my common sense is screeching in the other direction. Two forces going at each other behind my tranquil expression until finally one snaps and I go with the other.

"Is all this noise really necessary..."

My voice was like that of a whisper. So soft and quiet that I think a gust of wind would sound louder. Immediately I feel stupid. Good job Ashby. Open up a conversation with an insult. That will really earn you some allies.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

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

He heard in her tone, because Asunder wasn't stupid. He could tell when other people shied away from him in conversation, when he was rambling or staring too long. He just didn't know what to do about it. So he was trapped, a deer in the headlights as River bit into him, trying to use whatever leverage she could, leverage that might work on others. But Asunder had no family he cared for. He only had his father, aunt and uncle who all used him to varying degrees. They would only care about his death because it meant fewer tesserae benefits and no victor's glory. So that never landed. And at eighteen, he had no idea what it would feel like to be a father.

... or a mother. He flushed furiously at the idea, never once wondering why River might have a child already. But oh, he felt the threat of his face in the sky, his fate. He chortled, the sound echoing in his sickly lungs. And then he averted his gaze, because that's what he had always done when someone tore into him. He played the prey.

He blinked as Viridian's fork clattered, and very slowly lowered his gaze once again to his companions. His shoulders rolled forward, his neck bent so that he looked like an ostrich, huddled away from River-the-Scary. But when Viridian reached out his hand, Asunder found that rather than staying hidden (as much as that was possible at the table), he wanted to take it. So, he did. His hands were more than calloused, torn and cracked with years of hard labor. But his grip was light, unlearned, just like his smile. "Asunder Hayes," he offered and despite himself sneaked a glance at River. Once his gaze was upon her, it lingered until he felt his cheeks grow warm.

He released Viridian. "I didn't mean anything by that, you know," he said calmly, his voice even for once. He swung his gaze between the other tributes, landing on Ashby as she spoke. "Uhm, sort of depends on what you mean. Introductions?" He squeaked, turning his hands over each other. It was one thing to grip Viridian in what had seemed (or what he hoped) had been a peace offering. It was quite another to touch a lady. "You're Ashby, District Eight and that's River, District Four. 'Course, name like that, easy to remember. Well, easier than yours."

ooc: I'm gone through Sunday, sorry lovies </3
Kolo, feel free to hop back in whenever.
In fact, posting order abolished. Have fun!

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

[Kolo Osei]

'The food here is sooo good.' The thought ran through his mind as he continued nom nom nom-ing on the tasty dishes that were served. While taking bites on this delicious chicken, he heard laughs that came from the Distrct 12 boy. He looked at him at the side of his eye for a while and turned his attention back to the food and took a big bite. As seconds pass by, just the sight of the district 12 boy pisses him off but controls his anger since they have a lot of time to fight when the games start. The boy was really getting on his nerves but he just shrugs it off.

As the girl from District 4 spoke, he listened with an eyebrow raised and then gave a light chuckle. 'Interesting..' He thought once he found out that she has a daughter. 'She will obviously do her best to win for her daughter.. ehh.. I bet most of the tributes right now are going to fight and try to win for someone but who gives a shit. None of my business anyway.'

Kolo looked at Viridian, the District 1 boy, as he gestured to shake hands. He became a spectator as Asunder, the boy from district 12 and viridian shook hands. He shook his head sidewards slightly as he took another bite of this chicken but was stopped by a girl's voice.

Upon setting eyes on the girl who spoke, his eyes never left as he stared. A few seconds later, the boy from district 12 spoke, saying the girl's name. 'Ashby.' He thought to himself learning the girl from district 4's name as well. Taking a deep breath, he continued eating his chicken because it is just too delicious to stop. Finger lickin good baby.

[Wispy]

I can feel you all around me.
Thickening the air I'm breathing.
Holding on to what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing

What was that suppose to mean? Easier to remember than yours? He's singling me out already!? Yeah, cause surely no one will remember the girl from eight. The fourteen year-old who never stood a chance. Ashby, stop. Breathe, I just needed to breathe. I give a faint whisper of a smile and glance over for a second at the face that now had a name. River seemed to have quite a temper and I could relate. But that temper could be fatal later... "Yeah, I guess my name is kind of odd huh," I make an effort to give a real smile and silently applaud myself for not making one of those all teeth, creepy smiles. Be friendly, be friendly, be friendly...

I use the food as an excuse to break from the conversation. A chance to collect my thoughts. I stab my fork into some kind of...meat? I don't know, it smells like pork but has the appearance of some oddly colored flower. Does every bit of food really have to be so detailed in decoration? "And you, Asunder Hayes who hales from District 12. Not exactly easy to forget either," I choke out as I force the stuff down my throat. I don't care if it's the greatest chunk of food on the planet, that meat didn't look normal.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the boy from nine staring. At first I figure it's someone behind me, but after a few double-takes I realize its me. He then looks away and that immediately sends up a red flag in my head. He's sizing me up. "There something you want to say, Nine?" I question with every bit of innocence in my voice.

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[Deleted]

[bg=222222][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=style,width: 500px] and so the sky becomes a dream i never dreamt because i'm just too busy waiting for nothing and wasting away and so the sky, it watched my dreams fall to pieces right in front of me 'cause i'm just too busy waiting for nothing and wasting away “I didn't mean anything by that, you know,” the boy from Twelve offers, surprisingly cowering under my stare. I’d never thought of myself as entirely intimidating, but there’s a sort of security now in knowing that I can scare someone if I have to. Asunder Hayes, as he introduces himself, seems kind of odd, but I’m not judging him for it. I’m judging him for being a blatant suck-up and shoving his nose so far up Viridian Harper’s ass that he can’t see the daylight. The girl from Eight, a mousy-looking thing who can’t be all that old squeaks out something about the noise level, and Asunder ropes her into the conversation as well. “Introductions? You're Ashby, District Eight and that's River, District Four. 'Course, name like that, easy to remember. Well, easier than yours.” Viridian. Asunder. Ashby. A horrid, morbid thought strikes me that it will be harder to kill them now that I know their names. The boy from Nine across the table, the one who chuckles at the mention of Brooke? I could launch across the polished wooden surface and shove a butter knife in his eye right now, and not even blink. But maybe that has something to do with the fact that he’s laughing at our impending doom and has a distinct aroma of Eau de Douchebag floating around him. I decide I don’t want to learn his name. Looking intently at my plate, I take a bite of my salad even though the thought of all these faces in the sky a few days from now makes my stomach twist violently. “I know you didn’t,” I finally reply to Asunder’s somewhat-apology without looking at him, my voice tense. “I just… rough day. Rough week, really, although I guess we all have that excuse.” All the laughs and smiles seem so out of place. Here in Death’s waiting room, we should not be laughing. I couldn’t manage a smile right now even if I tried to; so how can the rest of them shrug off their oh-so-short futures as if it’s something years down the road? I understand that people cope with stress in different ways, but all of the sudden it’s me that feels like the odd one, the only sane person at a table full of bright-eyed optimists that will run smiling into the Reaper’s arms. I manage not to yell this time, but my glare is no less critical as I look around at all of them, wondering where they’re finding all these irritating reserves of joy. “Aren’t you all scared? How can you just sit here and speculate about all of this? It’s death. Am I off-base, because someone should tell me if I am, but the last time I checked it sure as hell wasn’t normal to be cracking jokes three days before someone shoves a sword through your chest.” and i'd never wish for anything more than to find what i've been looking for and i swore to myself i wouldn't lie to myself how could i let this happen? so i take myself aside to take the time to tell myself its alright 'cause you weren't there to dry my eyes

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[sbeeg]

There were more people at the table now, crowding around and filling in the silent patches with conversation. Yet through it all Viridian had his eyes on the boy from twelve. Asunder Hayes. The coal kid stared at River, red flushing his cheeks before he looked back down at his plate. You don't see that in the Training Center every day.

"Cool name," Viridian said, taking his fork up again and stabbing at the meat sitting on his plate. "Like thunder during a storm." The boy wasn't sure why he said such frivolous things but something told him the little lump of coal needed some pep in his step. Viri had always been the social one in the Harper family, of course the only person he had to compare himself to was a girl who was more likely to stab you then actually speak to you- that would make anyone seem like a social butterfly.

River had calmed down a bit, but still sounded bewildered by their view points. "Well, we're all going to die one day some of us sooner rather than later," Viri said, nonchalantly biting off a piece of beef. "Death is the most common thing in the world and it's something... something you have to accept."

The last part was more to himself than to River. Despite what he might like to think, Viridian Harper hadn't accepted death's finality yet. It no longer horrified him but the simple aspect of someone being just gone was lost on him. Stupid touchy-feely talk, get your head in the game, Viri. There are other things to think about. He could almost hear Stark's voice in his head but it was just his overactive imagination. It had to be.

[L△LIA]

[bg=292226][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; border:1px solid #000000; opacity: 1;] complex notes inside the chords on every wall inflections carved deep as lakes and dark as stars remember we were the volunteers A hundred thousand daydreams about being a Tribute and yet I had never thought about the in-between moments. The quiet that haunts my sleeping quarters as I lie in bed at night, memories of poetry drifting through me like a second heartbeat named Denial; Wasted minutes spent traveling between somewhere I've been and somewhere I'm going; Standing in line in the dining hall, waiting to eat. It's all so trivial and mundane — so human — and the opposite of my grand dreams for spotlight domination. When I stepped up for Tribute, I traded something of myself for the sake of an idea I've spent a lifetime idolizing. However, that idea was never anything like this. I order alligator, for no other reason than the way the word sounds extraordinary as it slips past my lips. My tongue twists around it, syllables writhing against my teeth, and for a split-second something feels worthwhile. However, it's gone just a quickly. The avox dishing up the food looks at me as if he doesn't know whether to believe me or not, but this is nothing new for me — I'm used to being stared at as if my reality were something questionable. A polite smile flutters across my mouth as I take the food, neither genuine or a lie, and I make my way to the nearest table. I'm not very good at being ordinary and it shows. My joints never settle quite right, even after I've sat down, all skewed angles and impatience that refuses foolish ideas like stillness.

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[Kolo Osei]

Kolo took small bites as the silent dining hall a few minutes ago turned into the opposite. It became nosier. He couldn't help but to feel sad for the tributes including himself. Some of them left their families, friends, special person, etc. Sighing, he took another bite and heard the tribute from District 8, Ashby. "There something you want to say, Nine?" He looked at her before saying, "N-nothing. Sorry." '....... she's cute.' What is he thinking. In a few days, he can possibly kill this girl and he thinks he's cute? Wow Kolo. He looked down to his food in a flash and tapped his head hard. 'Think straight Kolo.'

He became a spectator as the people talked with each other. Unsure on what he should feel learning the names of these people that can kill him. He began to think as he slowly finishes his food just to get another plate full of food because he just loves the Capitol food.

“Aren’t you all scared? How can you just sit here and speculate about all of this? It’s death. Am I off-base, because someone should tell me if I am, but the last time I checked it sure as hell wasn’t normal to be cracking jokes three days before someone shoves a sword through your chest.”

Hearing the words of the girl from District 4 made him think harder. She has a point. He listened thoroughly as they exchanged words. That's true. We're all gonna die even if we like it or not. We can't do anything about that. Everything has an end to it and we aren't exceptions. Sighing, he asked an Avox for another plate full of chicken. As the Avox cleared the space in front of him, she placed the plate filled with fried chicken goodness. 'Yum' Taking a bite. He would never get tired of Capitol food.

His eyes scanned the dining hall observing the tributes, he noticed a tribute who ordered an alligator. 'woah I would like to try that sometime' he thought, turning his attention back to his own food and started eating again.