interruption [Odyssey]

[freshy ☼]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: #000000; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-color: #00ffaa; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;] xxxxx [ooc] PENELOPEEE good to rp with you again <3 [/ooc] The day had been a surreal blur. Persia had never felt this beaten in her life, stumbling along the stone path to her house. Her left eye was red and swollen, her vision blurred with tears. Wind stirred up dust around her feet, the foreign contaminants invading her nostrils and causing them to burn. She had seen her family for the first time in years, in their darkest hours. There was still a rift between her and the Jays; one with so many cracks that could not be repaired. They had just grown apart. Everyone was drifting away from that family. She could just see it now; everything crumbling to pieces. Her thoughts were so overwhelming that she could barely comprehend any of it. Each step was shaky, and her head became heavier as she went along. She was stepping on the heels of her own shoes, and she could hardly keep her balance. Persia almost didn't recognize her house when she found her destination. Home. She leaned against the door, resting her head against the splintery wood. Home was such a foreign word. She had once been told, "Home is where the heart is", but as of now, Persia's heart lay nowhere. She hadn't felt the need to leave her heart in a place where it would be trampled on and stabbed fifty times over. Persia abandoned her old home because she had no place among the Jays. They either ignored her or annoyed her to death with their constant noise. And then there was the house she shared with Alivia Sharpe. Was it really home to her? Persia would return from walks and be greeted by bitter words, and be forced to reply with some crude gesture (her middle finger was her favorite). In all honesty, Persia didn't want to fight with Liv. It would be nice to be able to carry on a friendly conversation with her for more than five minutes, but since both of them seemed to be going for the bitch of the year award, that was probably never going to happen. Her vision was beginning to clear a bit, and the dizzy spell was wearing off. Persia slowly stood up straight, desperately fighting the wave of nausea that suddenly came on. She fished into the front pocket of her jeans, then the back. She pat all her pockets in a panic, sighing in exasperation as they all were found to be empty. Persia bent down and lifted the straw mat, feeling around on the ground for the spare key. Her fingers found the cold, rugged concrete, and she huffed angrily. Where the hell did she put the- Persia looked up as the front door was opened. Alivia's lithe frame was outlined by the moonlight, leaning against the doorframe. Liv was undeniably pretty, with fine black hair falling around her shoulders in ringlets and clouded eyes. It was the signature smirk that was always plastered on her face though, that erased all initial impression of her. Such an ugly, evil thing, to ruin a pretty face. Persia narrowed her eyes at her roommate, crossing her arms. "Thanks so much for putting the spare key back, bitch. I'm home."

[Deleted]

_xxxxx

Alivia was a skeleton.

The world had been gnawing away at her flesh for years, lacerating her with their harsh words and their mocking laughter. She was beyond irritated with the behaviors of the people around her, because they were so judgmental and so hypocritical that it was just unbearable. There would always be someone who found something wrong with even the most perfect of people. They would nitpick, and they would chip away at every layer of your subconscious until you broke down. Liv was this close to caving in, and she could only hold up this act for so long. The mechanisms of her mind were rusting, and it was almost like her heart was collapsing into a void. More and more people were being hurt around her. It wouldn't be much longer until they hurt her too.

Alivia had seen Persia's cousin give his little speech on the television. Everyone had. The way he talked about not caring about becoming a laughing stock was somewhat inspirational; not everyone was that brave. And some people especially didn't have the guts to reveal their darkest secret in front of the world. Fucking ballsy of Jabber, if you ask me, she thought. His words seemed to have an effect on Persia, for she turned off the television and picked up her messenger bag. Liv hurried out from behind the kitchen counter, knitting her brows and leaning against the wall. "Where are you going, Persia?" she asked, resting her head against her palm. Her roommate did not turn to look at her, and instead flipped her off. "Out," Persia grumbled.

The door slammed behind Persia, and Liv frowned. "What? I don't get a proper goodbye?" she shouted. There was no need to raise her voice though; Persia wouldn't hear her anyways.

After watching the golden Cornucopia be transformed into an amber deathtrap, Liv did not have the heart to turn the television back on. Screw mandatory viewing. If she didn't want to watch the Games, she didn't have to. She situated herself in the kitchen once more, where she had been preparing lunch. Her fingers shook as she sliced the cheese, and the blade of the knife grazed her fingertips mockingly, pressing into her skin and leaving a red indentation. Where had Persia gone all the sudden? She had not mentioned wanting to leave before, so it had to be a private matter. Liv didn't want to intrude Persia's life too much, but she couldn't help but be concerned about her roommate. The way her red hair whipped wildly around her head as she rushed outside, seemingly agitated. Something was not right. Though, Persia was strong. Liv had to stop being so protective of her. Why did she care so much anyway?

The little voice in the back of her head said, "Because you're in love with her."

The rest of the day was a blur. It was hard to adjust to the silence, even after all the evenings she spent alone when Persia went on walks. Liv wandered the house aimlessly, occasionally turning on the television and quickly turning it off whenever there were signs of a scuffle beginning. She found herself in the kitchen several times, stuffing food in her mouth to keep herself from biting her nails.

The clock read 9:15 when Liv entered the kitchen for the tenth time that day. She opened the pantry door, reaching in and pulling out a bottle of champagne. Her thumb pressed against the cork, and she whistled as she popped the bottle open and poured herself a glass. She didn't drink alcohol often, but she really needed to take her mind off of things.

Closing her eyes, Liv lifted the flute to her lips. She took a sip, and then a large gulp. The bubbles fizzled in the glass, popping on contact with her top lip. She drank faster and faster, and by the time she opened her eyes the flute was empty. She refilled her glass and was about to start drinking again when she heard a noise from outside.

Liv set down her champagne flute on the table, peering out of the window. A head of red curls bobbed up and down angrily, and Liv smirked. Look what the storm blew in. Persia looked rather frustrated, so she decided to save her the trouble and open the door.

Persia glared at Liv, standing up to her full height. The red-haired beauty was still a head shorter than Liv, so she could look down on her all she wanted. "Thanks so much for putting the spare key back, bitch. I'm home."

Liv couldn't help but giggle at Persia's words, leaning against the doorframe. "I can see that," she said, her grin growing wider. "Welcome home, bitch."

_{I'll stay right here with all these familiar faces
And shut-out everyone else from the world we created
Instead of becoming the sick and twisted
I'll lose myself in a song again}

[freshy ☼]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: #000000; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-color: #00ffaa; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;] xxxxx "Welcome home, bitch." There was something in the way that she responded that Persia found humorous. A little smile flashed across her face, and she arched an eyebrow at Liv as she walked past. She took note of the abandoned champagne flute, and she smirked. "I hope you haven't been having too much fun without me, Alivia," she teased, "Because it looks like you were planning on swallowing this whole bottle of champagne by yourself. Did you drink all the wine, while you were at it?" She forced a little laugh, which only resulted in her head throbbing all over again. Her surroundings began to spin around her in a blur, and her knees buckled. At the last minute, she shot out her arm and grabbed onto the kitchen island. Breathing heavily, she pulled out a chair and rest her head on the cushion. She pressed her hand against her forehead, trying to soothe the migraine that was coming on. "Meanwhile, I'm a mess," she growled. Persia tried to lift herself off of the ground, only to have her knees give way again. She banged her head against the counter, and ended up with a mouthful of her own hair. Her arms were like jelly and felt like she was carrying a thousand anvils. Every breath she took hurt, and worst of all, her face betrayed every feeling of pain and embarrassment that she felt right now. A mess indeed.

[Deleted]

_xxxxx

Life was a mere game. Either you played for the team, or you played for you. There was always some sort of pattern you had to follow, moving around as if you were on a gameboard. It was like chess, or checkers, or Risk, even. There was either some goal you had to meet, or some enemy you had to manipulate. Roll the dice, draw some cards, and advance to new stages of your life. Wrap your fingers around the cold plastic of a game piece, and get ready to face the challenges of the game.

Of course, there were times when gravity wasn't the kindest force. A rook would be felled by any wrong movement, laying on the floor on its side, collecting dust. It would not feel pain, and just lay in silence, waiting to be helped back to its feet. But humans would suffer, and they always would. So when Liv saw Persia's knees begin to tremble, her first instinct was to run over to her. Instead, she stayed put. She knew Persia would reject her help. She always did, so why even try?

Liv's heart became heavier as she watched Persia struggle to regain her balance, and have her legs give out beneath her again. "Persia!" Liv decided that she had stood by long enough, and immediately hurried to Persia's side. She could hear Persia's breathing becoming heavier, and her eyes were about as wide as saucers. The corners of Persia's mouth were twisted, and her nose was crinkled up. It was obvious that Persia was doing her best to mask her pain, but there was no need to hide her agony. Liv had seen it as clear as day.

She slipped her hands under Persia's head, lifting it up to her chest and cradling it in her arms. She could feel the knot forming on the back of her head, and the heat radiating from her body. "Persia," Liv whispered, bringing the redhead's body closer to hers. "What did you do to yourself?"

Liv leaned back, looking into the ice blue eyes that she had avoided for the past two years. She smiled sadly, brushing Persia's hair out of her eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you got drunk before I did."

[freshy ☼]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: #000000; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-color: #00ffaa; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;] xxxxx Persia didn't want to admit it, but she was a fallen soldier in need of assistance. She supposed she would have to leave the battlefield at some point, forget all her feuds and all the drama, and just lean back and watch her destiny unfold. When Jabber died and she had visited the Jays, she was greeted by the cold tin bodice of a kitchen knife, wielded by none other than Mocking Jay. They did not know her. They did not know she meant no real harm. But in the end, she still posed a threat to her home. A fighter was what she was, and what she would always be. Now her weapons were on the ground, and she was bleeding out. And now, the last person she had expected to be here when she needed assistance the most, was at her side, holding her close, caressing her and telling her it would all be okay. Liv's hands found the back of her head, gently lifting off the ground and cradling it under her chin. Her fingers were delicately rubbing against the knot on the back of her head, evidence of her bad fall. Persia's cheek pressed against Liv's collarbone, and unconsciously, allowed her arms to slither around the taller girl's waist. She could feel Liv's steady heartbeat, and the gentle throb sent vibrations up and down her spine. Goosebumps began to form on her skin, and the hairs on her arm began to stand up on end. Liv's hand brushed across her forehead, combing her bangs to the side. Persia's cheeks flushed at the close proximity between their bodies, and she shivered as the distance between them closed even more. "Liv?" Persia breathed, her voice brittle. Their eyes met, and in that moment it was like all defenses had collapsed, and all masks had been removed. All games were off. It was like any instance of the name calling and the arguments they had in the past. Persia was nothing but a bitch, and Liv was nothing but a bitch. That was the way it had always been. They should've naturally had a mutual hate for each other. But now, Persia lay here, being cradled in the arms of someone who was her worst enemy, her best friend, and the one girl she lusted after all at once. "What did you do to yourself, Persia?" It was a question she did not want to answer, what she had been doing when she visited the Jays. How could she explain to Liv? "Hey, I punched my cousin Mocking square in the jaw, and we got in a fight. Not to mention I broke down the door and broke a whole bunch of other shit and tripped about five times. No biggie." Persia opened her mouth to reply, but Liv beat her to it. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you got drunk before I did." With that, the redhead expelled a hearty, genuine laugh. It was the first time she had really laughed in years; not a sneer, not a mocking guffaw; just pure happiness. She leaned in closer to Liv, until she could smell the champagne lingering on her breath. "You know alcohol's not my thing, Livie," she whispered, the tip of her nose grazing against Liv's. Static electricity formed in the small space between their bodies, and Persia had to resist leaning even closer. "But I'm glad you're here. I thought you'd take the opportunity to kick me when I was down, but I suppose not."