xoxo // [ blitz ]
Feb 4, 2014 0:49:14 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Feb 4, 2014 0:49:14 GMT -5
ARGONITE SHORE
The days had become tedious, one after the other. He could handle the routine of school > training > eat > party > sleep at home. But here, it had a shadow. A promise of a monster, stalking the tributes all the way to the arena. He hated the darkness it cast, reminding them of their mortality. Except they weren't. That was a lie. The blood and gore would be real, to be sure. But they wouldn't die. No one ever did. Not even her.
Not even Emerald Shore, who haunted him more effectively than the thread of the arena.
But he refused to succumb to the dark. To anything but smile and laugh and breathe. He entered the training center each day with a skewed grin, greeting the tributes he knew by name, introducing himself to the others until he had made the rounds. It was cursory; many of them had never cared about him, would never. But there were some. And his conversations with Opal rolled over and over in his head. He knew she'd pick a different path, one more arrow straight. But he was not Opal, and he could not ally with people he admired.
He wanted to ally with people he liked. So, he started with a compromise. For the morning's exercises, he followed Cheska around like a puppy dog, laughing and smiling and complimenting. The more eye rolls he counted, the better he considered his chances. He was drenched in sweat and confidence by the time the fifteen minute bell to lunch rang. He leaned on his spear, tipping his hat forward. "So what do you think? To the victor goes the spoils?" He opened up his calloused palm, promising an interesting end, nothing more.
He jerked his head towards the tributes, scattered over the floor. Hannah was not far, her brown hair luxurious, her gaze intense. "She's got some unfinished business, somewhere. Might not be bad to have on our side." And a Career, to boot. That ought to make Opal happy, but he knew he wouldn't. At least it wouldn't infuriate her, the way it did when he watched Magenta's reaping over and over. He tried not to look at her, tried not to admire the arch of her back, the swell of her body as she lunged. "So many good options..." he murmured, even though there was only one.