Don't Met Me Hear Life's Taking You Nowhere // Perches+Leon

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

She spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky
She said walk on over here to the bitter shade
I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know that you're saved

The waves held the hue of the sunset, pink and orange and yellow. Tongues of fire replaced the roiling waves. Fabian ran, not so much towards the slapping, sighing sea of fire, but between the crests and dips. In the midst of all that color, her hair was a black ribbon, streaming behind her, taunting him. He ran so hard he felt the strain in his chest, the cramping in his legs. The fire sea warmed his face, and then too soon burned his flesh. And still he ran.

Even in his dreams, he chased Althea.

For no reason at all, he turned over. The dream dissolved, her hair still an arm's length from his burning, peeling fingers. The side of her bed, already gone cold, made his dream fade away completely. He only had the sense of her absence, both in the fire sea and in reality. He checked the clock, and then the slant of the morning light. Did he have time for his ritualistic run? If he was late, Althea would be displeased. If he did not run, he would be cranky the rest of the day.

He patted the top of his knees, promising them a day of rest, and then went to the shower. Not thirty minutes later he was ensconced in his study, a glass of orange juice warming as he groomed over the day's agenda. With the reaping so near, his staff filled as many hours as he would allow. But today, at least, he had a silver lining to start. He did not wait, as he usually did, to be summoned from his office. Instead, he skipped down the grand stairwell, determined to greet the boy personally.

And there she was, his black haired mermaid.

He caught her around the waist, spinning her halfway around to steal a kiss. One taste of her and he wanted more, but then he always did. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how one ends up with five children. Even as the kiss ended, Fabian wrapped one ribbon of her hair around his index finger, as though to banish the dream where he merely chased her. Life was so much better, in part because of their impending visitor. "You look ravishing today, my love," he said, voice as soft as the velvet curtains in their bedroom.

The doorbell rang.

Fabian groaned. "I don't suppose we can keep our victor waiting," he pouted. And it was strange to form the phrase our victor. But that's how the common denizens of Four referred to Leon Krigel, and so Fabian had picked it up. Our victor, the famous blonde-haired, tail-chasing savior of them all.

Fabian untangled himself, even regretfully parting with the lock of her hair, to open the door. He beamed, a hint of Althea's gloss upon his lips. "Come in, come in, Mr. Krigel. You are always welcome here, you know? I believe we have a little morning picnic planned in your honor. Hope you brought your appetite. And you remember my wife, Althea?" As he stepped over the threshold back into the foyer, for the first time, his eyes froze. Fabian had never been any good at hiding his emotions; it was one of the things he had been coached most intensely throughout the campaign. But he'd gotten to the point when he could at least freeze his expression, rather than betray darker thoughts.

And so his smile held, a frozen mimicry of the real one, as he looked from Leon to his beautiful wife.

banner credit: this girl right hurr
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[umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]]

I've met plenty of victors before, but this is one of the only times I get the privilege of saying they are from my home. District Four has been in a hole, and it seemed to only grow deeper with each passing year's tributes, even the exceptionally gifted Learna Libertine and Priscilla Lovelace not being good enough to tame the beast that was the games. What a shock it was to everyone when we went from the bottom of the totem pole to the having the only two tributes left standing.

I watched the games tirelessly, refusing to peel my eyes from the screen. They all talked about Siren, praised her and the amounts of money she was being sponsored, and seemed to forget about the fact that Leon Krigal had matched training scores with her, and also managed to avoid even a lick of damage until the later days. I didn't forget, though. I talked about it with mom and dad at dinner all the time, about how he was underestimated. And I guess I know what I am talking about.

Leon Krigal is a god among insects and some day I'll rule the world with him.

I wonder if father would be proud of me. If he would stop caring about every little detail of the district and take a few days off for me and my siblings and my mother (though honestly, I think they get plenty of alone time as it is.) In fact, I am still staring at myself in the mirror, completely lost in thoughts of myself as a victor when there is a knock on my door. "Mr. Perch?" one of my father's workers chimes, and I watch her peak inside from my mirror as I straighten my bow tie. "Victor Krigal has arrived."

I try my best to contain my excitement, and when I hustle downstairs to find Mother and Father greeting him at the door, my heart skips a beat. It's him. It's him. It's him. I bite my bottom lip and nod. "Morning, Mr. Krigal." My hand darts out in the space between us.

table by zoe

fantom perch

[sbeeg]

Althea Perch

The District was still asleep when Althea Perch stepped out of the front door. She enjoyed her early morning runs more than anything else in the world. No one else existed in those dark hours and she crossed the district by herself. While sprinting down the boardwalk the salt stung her cheeks just like it had years ago when she was yanked out of bed by her trainer and forced to run until she passed out. The woman no longer had a clear reason to her runs other than that she'd go insane if she wasn't able to get away. Being the Mayor's wife is a tough job that gets no thanks or awards. People will always remember a mayor, but very rarely do they remember the spouse that stands behind them offering tea and shaking hands and always being polite and welcoming. They forget about the woman who whispers ideas into his ear and pulls him to his feet when he falls. This might sound like Althea wanted to be the Mayor of District Four, which is dead wrong. She had no desire to govern the fish district, she had her eyes on an entirely other prize when she was young. She wanted to be reaped. She wanted to win and return home with a crown. You never forget a Victor's name, and now District Four had their own victor after decades of loses. Leon Krigel. He was strong but his form had been weak. Althea had paid close attention to District Four's tributes the past Games and, while they performed well, she could only think of how she would have done better. She was bias against every tribute because no matter how well they did she would always find something that could have ruined them. Any of the tributes they had allied with could have stabbed them in the back faster than you could say "Happy Hunger Games."

Yet, Leon would be at her house later today all done up by a Capitol stylist and the title of Victor. Her feet slammed into the pier as she ran away from the rising sun, her muscles burning but her eyes focused on her destination.

After a quick shower, Althea sat on the edge of her bed wrapped in a towel and watching her husband move in his sleep. His arm was outstretched towards her, his fingers slowly grabbing at the sheets. Fabian was a beautiful man. Charming and smart and a wonderful partner. If only she hadn't fallen so deeply in love with him then she'd have a crown of her own.

Leaving him mumbling into his pillow, the woman stepped into her closet. She had trained her whole life in the art of killing and now the most complicated decisions she had to make were what to wear and what how many sugars to put in visitors' tea. She settled on a plain, blue dress that extenuated her waist. It always drove Fabian crazy when she was wore it and she was feeling a little power hungry this morning. She threw on some heels, slipped on some lipstick and she was ready to stand by and smile as the pride of District Four was honored by the Mayor.

She couldn't sit still for very long so the woman tip toed down stairs and paced in the foyer. A maid occasionally scurried by but other than that she was alone with her thoughts. Maybe she could get the boy alone and question him on how it felt to live through a Games. How did it feel to take a life? What does it feel like to have hot blood up to your elbows?

Suddenly, a hand was on her waist and a familiar pair of lips were pressing against her own. If anything could be said about her husband it was that he was affectionate. He never left her feeling unwanted, that was for sure. His voice made her skin tingle but they were going to have to save that fun for later.

The great Victor stood on their doorstep, just as magnificent as he had been on screen. If not a bit smaller than they made him look during the Victor ceremony. Fabian introduced her and Althea held a hand out for the boy to shake, giving him a gentle smile. "It is an honor to meet the pride of District Four," she said, hoping she did not sound too much like a jealous old woman.

[анзие (Anz)]

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Leon Krigel
so glad we've almost made it
so sad they had to fade it

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Where is he going? What is he doing? Is he going to sing for the Capitol anytime soon? Does he want that to be his 'special' skill? What will his songs be about? The endless questions thrown at Leon simply make him want to shut down more, and it's habit now for him to leave the phone in the new house dangling from its cord while he tucked himself in Finnegan's cautious embrace; and it's habit now for Nat to put it back on the hook, his little brother's expression tight from a mixture of annoyance and what Leon might think is worry if not for the fact that Nat doesn't seem to care.

"You have to think about it sometime."

Leon doesn't want to.

There's a distraction in the Perches - the Mayor's picture perfect family in their picture perfect house. Leon's never been in it, but he used to walk by it every day for school (and doesn't that feel like years ago?). Used to eye Fantom and Mathilda warily whenever they came by (but they were nice, they were perfect, and that above all else made him wary; they had no troubles at all and-

Breathe, he thinks, and he breathes like there is nothing left to do.)

But they are a distraction, never mind that they are an approved distraction - by his ever pompous escort - but it means he doesn't have to answer the questions he doesn't want to hear; doesn't have to look at Nat (wondering if he's okay, wondering about the bruises about the grin) and Finn (to feel the rush of resentment-guilt because he doesn't want the pity but he wants it so much) and Arissa (do you feel everything I went through?) and his mother's proud smile - he's out of there. Out of the oppressive house.

It's like a breath of fresh air after being trapped beneath the ocean's surface for far too long.

Or so he hopes.

He thinks he was supposed to bring someone along with him but his twin was nowhere to be found, and Nat got himself a shiner on his cheekbone somehow, and Finn is just- Just.

("I know you've been staying up for me and-"

He doesn't want to think about that conversation right now.)

Nevertheless he's standing awkwardly alone in front of the entrance to the mayor's house (and Leon recalls the first time he laid eyes on Fabian and Althea Perch as an adolescent, their faces angelic in the light reflected off the ocean as Fabian announced the opening of the Games- how long ago was that? Six years? It feels like it's been longer). Leon braces himself and taps the button for the bell.

Maybe they won't hear it.

The chime peals out, loud even from where he stands, and in the echoes across the grounds of the manor he hears the telltale boom of a cannon. And-

-for a moment he stands in the sand
with his face tipped back to the sky
promising promises
he could
never
keep.

The door opens and Leon is thrown back into the present, his expression significantly more dazed than he would like; with a little shake of his head, Leon focuses upon the mayor and his beautiful wife, eyes moving over Althea's frame in an almost obligatory manner before fixing themselves on Fabian Perch's ice-cold smiling face. "Come in, come in, Mr. Krigel. You are always welcome here, you know? I believe we have a little morning picnic planned in your honor. Hope you brought your appetite. And you remember my wife, Althea?"

Althea Perch holds out her hand with a charming smile. "It is an honor to meet the pride of District Four," she says, and Leon takes her hand (and feels the strength of her grip on his hand; his eyes flick up to her face when she lets go).

"That's very kind, but it's really my honor to meet you both," Leon says to them both, gaze moving back and forth from Althea to Fabian's eyes. "I appreciate your invitation to visit you. Um, I left my appetite back with the pitfalls, but I'm sure I can hold something down. Sir," he adds, belatedly remembering his manners. And where did the coherence come from?

(His hands aren't shaking like they were when he woke up this morning-

Finn.

I knew you would- Thank you.)

"Morning, Mr. Krigel."

Leon looks around at the strange address, brows furrowing when he sees Fantom with his hand stuck out between them; the other boy holds himself up with all the dignity in the world, seeming to Leon like some kind of brilliant light that has yet to be fanned to a flame, then to the remnant that is a spark of what is left. There is just so much excitement on the boy's face, and- You're too perfect. You're all so perfect and I just-

"Leon," he tells Fantom. "I'm not a Mister and I never will be." I haven't seen you in so long, it feels like. "How are you?"