holes {inside} // puppy [drought plot]

[lyss]

Denim Barnes
Thirteen|District 6

Words are life my dear
______________________________

“Do you understand the gravity of the situation?” Mama barked the morning Denim asked to be a volunteer.

“Judy, dear,” Papa murmured, stirring his thick oatmeal lazily. “I think the girl is ready. She is bright-very bright. She could make a great contribution to the irrigation system design. If that does not work out, then it says here she’d be assigned to medicine and nutrition. She’d be safe, I know it.” His fingers swirled absentmindedly in the above the wooden spoon before pinching the handle and shoving a bite in his mouth. “The only other way she’d get to travel to other districts is if she becomes a victor,” he spits solemnly.

“I don’t know,” Mama shakily voiced. “Do you even have someone to travel with, Denim?”

Denim racked her brains for names she’d seen on the sign-up sheet, but none came to mind. She was generally a loner; she could barely remember the names of her classmates. Finally, the name of the girl that had helped her days before popped in her mind. Yes, Lila. She had seen the name on the short list of volunteer sign-ups. “Lila Nightingale. You remember her, right? Or at least know her family?”

Mama’s head bobbed up and down dolefully and reluctantly gave in. “I trust you, sweet girl,” Mama cooed, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. She stroked the thin, blonde pigtails braided down either side of Denim’s head. Denim had never seen Mama so wounded, so vulnerable. It was rare to ever see love reciprocated from her.

“I promise I’ll be safe,” she whispered into the crook of Mama’s neck. “I’ll come straight home when it’s over, and I’ll try to see if I can write to you. Promise. Promise.

A few days later, the five or so volunteers were incited. The marched their way to the train station and loaded a train that was a prodigious amount less elegant than the ones seen on television dropping off tributes. There was no array of fancy Capitol food, no butlers or stylists or electronically controlled showers. The panache was gone. The Capitolite lifestyle had been long evicted from the train. Denim ran her bony fingers along the wood railings accompanying the window sills and plopped down on a quilted bench. Her eyes struggled to keep up with the blurry land racing by her window, and eventually let sleep succumb her mind.

District 11 was nothing like she’d pictured it to be. She imagined it as a lush land filled to the brim with orchards and crops. This day, though, it was nothing of the sort. The grass had wilted and shriveled up and all but turned into dust. The farms were barren and void of any crops. They were no animals in sight.

“Holy shit,” Denim heard a girl from upfront swear.

Denim pushed herself up on her knees and squished her palms against the now dirt covered window. She peered out at the vast wasteland and whispered under her breath, “This is way worse than I imagined.

Bouts of doubt began to swim in her heard. She wondered if she should have listened to Mama and stayed home; she wondered if she was in way over her head. As she clutched the railing on the way down the steps of the train, the saltiness of tears and sweat intermingled in her mouth. The heat pounding against her porcelain skin was overwhelming from the moment her bare calves stuck out of the train. Her pasty skin lit up like a Ratmas tree as she roamed around in the hot sun.

When Denim boasted that she was there to help design the irrigation system, the elder volunteers laughed and shrugged her off, sending her in another direction. Denim’s teeth slid over her lower lip and dug into the soft skin. A sharp pain shot up her body as she choked back tears.

After what felt like hours to Denim, a group of girls her age seemed to be doing various activities in a shaded area closer to what must be a town. The boots she was provided with slapped against the hard ground as she slowly trudged toward the group. Her parched throat screamed at her body for water, and her eyes had to repeatedly apologize, for there was no liquid for miles. She approached the group with long, ragged breaths, hoping to see if she could find a companion. A girl standing towards the back of the group had an appearance similar to her own, Denim figured it was as good as a start as any and made her way over to the girl.

Unsure of if the girl would even care to make conversation, Denim only peeped out a shy, "Hi."

[pup]

I walk away
From you my friend
I hope that this
Is not the end
Of all the times we figured out
How to seize the day
And I walk away

[presto]

Today was very exciting. Lily was by far the youngest in the group of girls from district eight. It seemed such a long way from home. She did know though that the drought barely passed district eight being right by district ten. She had been called a few days ago after volunteering. They told her she would help out with the animals and that was ok because Lily loves animals!

Today Lily had been looking after a goat name Skiddo and a Cow named Milktank. It had been a good day except for being extraordinarily dry. As soon as she entered district eleven a few days ago she knew that there was a real problem. Everything looked like a desert in the agriculture district. The crops were dying and the animals were really thirsty.

The people here were strange. They acted and looked different than the people in district eight and all the volunteers from each of the districts looked different. Lily was behind the group of district eight girls who were going to another barn to help out when she heard from behind her a small, "Hi."

Lily turned around to see a girl which seemed around her age but maybe a tiny bit older standing right there. Lily being very shy and feeling very awkward around someone she didn't know, said in her small voice shyly, "Hi."

OOC: Drought oh noes. Also, please excuse my pokemon references.

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[/presto]

[lyss]

Denim Barnes
Thirteen|District 6

It seems like you're wired to stay here, held in time
______________________________

The heat was sweltering, even in the shade. The temperature had to be at least a hundred degrees outside, if not even higher. Denim’s breathing was quick as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. She wondered how different the experience would be if her Mama was here. Mama would be barking orders at all the girls and they’d be working at thrice the speed they were now. If Mama was here, she would’ve barked at the adults who told her that she was far too young to help design something so intricate. “My girl is bright, the brightest of any girl in six,” Mama would have said. Mama would have put them in their place.

Despite the lashes and hard words that had bit her delicate skin, Denim found it easy to miss Mama. It was an odd experience being alone at thirteen, especially in a district so far from home. The lifestyle around 11 was different from the one back home. Everyone seemed dirtier, hungrier, weaker. Most people in 11 had rough skin darkened by the skin, which was an obvious contrast to the smooth paleness wrapping her bones and organs together. The air at home was a lot more humid; the clouds occasionally would drink up rain until they burst. Here, Denim could not even make an educated guess at the last time they had seen rain. If it had snowed down here in the mild winter Panem had felt, it was probably the closest they had gotten to rain.

The girl in front of Denim manages to say hi back, and she noted how shy most of the younger volunteers must be. She mused that not everybody was going to be outgoing and excited to interact with people from other districts. She racked her brains for something she could say to keep the conversation flowing, other than the basics, but nothing came to mind. She sighed and swatted at the air, waving away the flies that were drawn to the sweat that dripped off of everyone. The girl couldn’t think of anything interesting to say to the one in front of her. What could she say, really? Hi, my name’s Denim, and I steal school supplies.

Denim decided to go the drab route and introduced herself. “My name’s Denim. I’m from 6.” She shoved her hands in the front pockets of her shorts and rocked on her heels for a moment, pausing before speaking again. “Is there anything I can do around here? I wasn’t welcomed over at the irrigation design group.”

[pup]

I walk away
From you my friend
I hope that this
Is not the end
Of all the times we figured out
How to seize the day
And I walk away

[presto]

Lily rocked on her heels slightly. She hadn't really had met anyone new from a different district yet so she was a bit nervous. She definitely knew that this girl wasn't from district eight because she didn't seem to fragile, frail, or underfed. The girl by her said, "My name's Denim. I'm from 6."

Lily looked surprised. Lily worked in a factory where they make clothes and so when she heard the girl call herself Denim, Lily thought of district eight. "Hi Denim." Lily responded nervously, "My name's Lily. I'm from district eight." The name Denim was a bit unfamiliar to Lily and she tried to keep from saying anything about it because she knew it would be rude and she may lose a friend if she did. Was Denim a friend? Lily had only just met her.

"Is there anything I can do around here? I wasn't welcomed at the irrigation design group."

Lily looked worried for a second about that because the group she had to stay with right now was kind of shunning her because she is the youngest and if she brought someone along, especially someone from a different district, they may not be to happy. "Um. Sure." Lily said despite what she thought the others would say, "We are working with the animals right now. They're really thirsty and hungry and they don't seem that well treated." Lily gave herself a mental slap knowing how she could always start to go on and on about animals.

OOC: dunno what to put for ooc

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[/presto]