Runaway -(D1 Train)

[Muffinface]

Wherever it's going, I'm gonna chase it
What's left of this moment, I'm not gonna waste it
Stranded together, our worlds have collided
This won't be forever, so why try to fight it?

Teetering on the brink of destruction, a thin hand gingerly pushes him over the threshold and into the dark abyss. He falls, grasping for air, gagging over the stench of his own fear. Already his heart races, lungs fighting, throat drowning.

His fist colides with his gut as he sways, vision popping and blurry as he births himself anew into the wide maw of the sleek bullet. The air is cool, crisp, artificial. Decidedly not him, with his rugged hands, and dirt-encrusted eyelashes. Dark eyes watch the escort as she, too, emerges onto the train- though she seems to fit better in this watercolor painting of blues and greens, while he is a blotted mistake, a dark, brown coffee stain compared to the magnificence and elegance the capitol provides.

Hands twitch lightly, nerves on edge as he carefully perches himself on the edge of a pale-cushioned seat, a caged bird prepared to fly anyway. Once she goes, leaves him to himself and his demons, Septys doubles over and allows his head to fall into his palms. Shoulders steady however, and no tears drip free from his sockets.

There is no time to cry anymore.

He begs, pleads with the universe to forgive him, to forgive their mother. This was it- the final threshold, the last bit of home he would ever have. Broken nails stroke a slender chain around his neck, dangling with a golden band, and a bronze key- last bits of his mother, and his housekey.

Fuck, he should have given it to Mohs.

Damnit.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Ruth Foster
District One Female
Of The
71st Hunger Games

There’s a part of me that’s being ripped away the further I get from my home; yet I’m entirely satisfied with the situation I am in. Since I was ten, when my family was pealed from me one by one, I’ve come to the acceptance of this fate. Getting into a Game means I’ll win them back, or die trying, each I’ve been training to do in response. Will I miss the strong relation I’ve grown in those six years? Lullaby is who tares me at this moment, just not enough to overpower this decision.

An alcoholic beverage is just what I turn to for this minor crisis. In a few days this privilege will be forbidden from my desire, might as well enjoy it now. As much as I’ll miss Lullaby, I can know she’s another I’ll being fighting to see again. My fingers drum against my glass between sips, as I take a seat across from my district Partner. He volunteered, which must mean he maintains some inspiration in returning. Will this be a positive impact for me?

“Want a drink?” My voice comes out in a gentle tone. Usually I could careless about being kind…so what has gotten into me? Perhaps someone’s that’s willing to risk their Life in another’s place. Before an answer is even given I travel over to prepare a drink. If he declines, it’s a second drink for myself. Not to long ago I’d waste my Soul for one that I love.

The second that we arrive at the Capitol the Game begins…why not live it up in this moment? “I admire you for volunteering.” I admit while mixing the cocktail to keep my eyes and mind concentrated on anything but potential sorrows. “Have any interesting stories to fill this train ride with?” And with that question I turn around to deliver the drink. With my firs comment it leaves it open to why he volunteered in the first place, while instead retelling other events if more comfortable. Either way I take a nice sip of me drink as soon as I reach the seating area, to patiently await the conversation to come.

[Muffinface]

Wherever it's going, I'm gonna chase it
What's left of this moment, I'm not gonna waste it
Stranded together, our worlds have collided
This won't be forever, so why try to fight it?

The familiar tang of alcohol lifts as his fingers stretch, without question towards the glass. "Yeah... Thanks." he murmurs, gently lifting the thing to his lips, glaring down at the clear liquid. The smallest of sips passes through,biting at his jaws. It's a wonder their father can function let alone work when the smell itself makes Septys so dizzy.

He places the tumbler a bit off to the side, and glances back at the female behind the glass. Confused features push against her flesh, gaze distant, concerned. She admires him..?

No one, in the entire history of Panem has ever said that specific combination of words to the male, and he offers a slight smile in response. "Well I had to. He was going to die if he went in. I had to do something."

He lounges back, allowing a foot to lift over a knee, bouncing nervously up and down. What could he say? Septys fights the urge to talk about family; Quadrys may fit better in this situation, but Sep could pull the tough guy face one more time, especially for his well-toned district partner.

"What kind of things are you looking for me to say?" He sips again, allowing some of the liquid to splash against his teeth this time. "Or are you just looking for a life story from me?"

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Ruth Foster
District One Female
Of The
71st Hunger Games

Casually my eyes study the young man before me. One of his shoes sways through the air with uncertain, while the rest of his posture remains relatively calm. The reaping wasn’t his calling, only a means of protecting another, but why? Older family members resist volunteering every year, why is he different? Twenty-three of us are destined to be slaughtered. Is he that confident he’ll be the one to survive? Something tells me otherwise, even if his chances are up there.

“Awfully brave since any of us could die.” Despite my words, my tone doesn’t lack the respect I’ve already gained for him. He’ll have motivation in the battles to come, just as I do.

For now my own disposition stands high in my seat, preparing for the appearance I’ll have to maintain in the Capitol. Sponsors crave strong pawns to bet towards, just as Mr. Foster has always taught. Weakness is only a sign of the firsts to go. And I will not be leaving the Arena early. Hopefully nor will my district Partner.

“If that’s what you want to share.” I smirk, attempting my best at keeping a lighthearted atmosphere for now. A life story would provide a tasty illustration of who he is. But again, I don’t wish to force anything. “Guess I’m just trying to prevent this from being a train ride to our death.” A slight joke seeps into the air with a soft and short laugh.

Considering it thoroughly, this must be a difficult journey for Septys. An entire family is being left behind, while I only had to say goodbye to one. Perhaps I’m being unkind with the direction I’m forcing upon this travel. “But I’m willing to talk about anything.” So I leave the floor open to whatever he might prefer.

[Muffinface]

You only just discovered the sun
O N T H E L A S T D A Y

His lips twist, countenance terribly morbid and grim until she laughs, the sound melodic chimes, a break in the dark chasm he's trapped in. "Yeah... Yeah, that's true. Attitude is about what, eighty percent of fighting? That's what I've been told." His hands worry themselves, fingers interlocking, pushing back and forth with every drum of his heart.

"Alright, so... I've got three younger brothers at home. They're all kind of expecting me to walk out of the arena." he murmurs, head lifting quietly, eyes burning through the glass of the compartment. "I'm pretty normal." Aside from the fact one of those brothers prefers gowns and heels to mud and wrestling, but Septys digresses.

This female on the other hand, she stepped up and accepted her position so proudly, so willing to throw herself away, throw away her gifts, being blessed to live in district one versus twelve, to have the ability to choose her lot in life simply by working for it.

"What about you?" The conversation topic slips free from his lips. He's shared enough, for now. "What's your life like? Any boyfriends or anything you're leaving behind?" The sentiment is one half joking, half serious, wedged in that uncomfortable zone of personal history and conversation topics.

Not that he wants to pry or anything, but as Ruth stated earlier- the conversation is one meant to lift their spirits, to keep them alive. If you die before you even step foot into the arena, that's what's going to happen.

And I'm not going to die if I have anything to fucking say about it.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Ruth Foster
District One Female
Of The
71st Hunger Games

Not once during training from Mr. Foster did he mention the significance of attitude. Of course he pressed us to have confidence if we had something to show for it, to bring the sex appeal if that was possessed as well; but never to pertain a strong attitude. Coming from Septys though, it sounds to be a talent I acquired without assistance from my Foster Father. And I’m pleased to know my District Partner pertains it to. It’s difficult to hide the smirk he evokes with his words. “I like it.” I approve through a quiet comment.

Instantly I become hushed to absorb the information Septys is willing to share. Apparently he’s rather average, though it’s not every a year a volunteer rises from District One from a brotherly standpoint. Usually it’s someone convinced they’ll prevail in the Games, rather then a need to save someone they’re extremely close to. “I don’t think you can walk out of the Arena. But I’m sure there’s a good chance a hovercraft will be transporting you out alive.” Yet I find certainty he has just as high of odds.

After a moment of silence, the subject suddenly gets shifted over to me. Should have assumed that was going to happen. Within our District, it’s a give and take society. So what about my life do I accept to bringing to the table? “No boyfriend.” I reassure and feel a tiny blush sprinkling across my cheeks from the question I choose to answer first. “Just a little sister who’s unfortunately not related to me.” Instantly I shake my head to resist thinking about Lullaby.

“My Father was sent to the DC a while back, and my Mother and blood Sister left the District the very same day.” A shrug consumes my shoulders as I brush off the incident. Happened so long ago that leaving Lullaby actually affects me more. “Been training from my Foster Father ever since.” Once we reach the Capitol I’ll have to leave my true story behind, might as well confess it beforehand.

There’s a sense of trust that illuminates from the one that sits before me. Why else would my facts slip out so easily? Hopefully we’ll be going far together, as far as the Arena will allow us. “I’ve spilled all my beans.” I admit with a feeling of assurance that it’ll stay between us. “Want to share anything else before I switch to a game that’ll make this train ride go by faster?” I offer with a regrouping smirk spreading across my cheeks. Of course I’d love more Intel, but his company alone is suffice.