iron-jawed creatures | {pillar/morganite}
Oct 5, 2014 17:27:39 GMT -5
Post by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] on Oct 5, 2014 17:27:39 GMT -5
morganite shore" the pretty lies
the ugly t r u t h ""Stop fixing your hair and come on." Petalite spits, and I look at her standing behind me in the mirror. "Unlike you, I don't just go out and about looking homeless. We have a reputation." She rolls her eyes and disappears, and I stick my tongue out at her absence. She is right, though. I haven't exactly been pacing myself, and the others have all been ready to leave for some time now. Yet another interview about how wonderful being the little brother of OpalShoreEarnest is.
If I had it my way, the Capitol would never come crawling back unless it was dealing with something other than the trash that we should have never taken in. Sure, the older children were never good enough. Emerald and Argonite both died pretty early on. If they would have just waited for me to grow up, they would have gotten their victor, and this one would have actual Shore blood running through his veins. Still, our parents instructed us all to be on our best behavior, and if I am ever going to be looked at as the new golden child of the Shore household, I have to abide by the rules. At least for now.
I finally finish primping myself, and we are all headed for the Justice Building. I do have to admit that this interview is not quite as tedious or annoying, though it's probably because Mrs.Widow herself is in the Capitol claiming to have an actual idea of how she won the games. It's over quickly, and I only want to saw my face off a couple of times before they release me.
Once out the door, I do not know where I want to go, exactly, only that I am not in the mood to deal with my siblings and their woes, so I walk in the opposite direction, and swear I am meeting up with a friend. Though I would not really call the person whose house I end up at a 'friend'. The wrought iron sign reads "FRAY" in large, bolded letters. It's a bit much, but it does well to showcase the family's status. I make a mental note of suggesting to Dad that we get one of our own. (Only better, of course.)
I knock on the door three times, and am greeted by the "Emerald" of the home. He is well over six feet tall, and his name is one more than one of my sisters have been caught whispering to their friends. (I can understand why, I believe.) "Kellan," I say simply. "Is Pillar home?" He leans against the frame, sizing me up. "Pillar? I would imagine you looking for Justice before Pillar." I narrow my eyes at him, wanting to say something, or perhaps slap him, but I know it would only mean my own dismay. Besides, he is already speaking again before I can find the words I would have said, anyway. "She's in her room."
He turns so that I can get past him, and I try my hardest not to bump into him. How could someone so beautiful be such a terrible person? I decide not to pry on it because I am not really known for being a sweet person, and climb the stairs as quickly as possible to get myself away from him. I have been here a few times, and by a few I mean a lot. The big families tend to prefer their children become friends with each other rather than the less-fortunate. (Like Opal, for instance.)
I push her door open without knocking and huff. "Hey. Your brother is the worst, you know that, right?"