food for the thought {yoya}

[Knuckles]

Ivar Hammerfell Seventeen | Male | District Two

Gathering food in the Capitol was much different than back home. Ivar struggled reaching the plates, and even after grabbing a plate, placing the food on top was nearly impossible. Yet he slithered across the ground holding the plate on his back while trying to raise himself up high enough to even reach the utensils. At one point, he knocked an entire pan of mashed potatoes earlier leaving a fluffy white mess for someone to clean up. Soon he had enough to at least sustain him until he was in the district two lounge. He picked out a table in the corner of the room, and he placed his plate in one of the chairs before hoisting himself into the air. His arms ached from the constant use, and the training in general. Ivar played it off as a figment of his imagination because he was used to pain. Once he was in the chair, he lifted the plate setting it on the table.

Having a spoon and fork was common in his house, yet Ivar wanted to shovel it in his mouth with his hands. The only thing stopping him was the idea of his hands touching the nasty floor where other tributes walked. Not knowing what was on the bottom of their shoes ran through his mine. One night he ate some bread before cleaning his hands of moldy trash. It wasn't a pleasant sight, and it was something the boy swore he would never do again. Most of the morning he listened to the people around him scolding him for ruining his outfit. Maybe if they paid attention, they would understand the predicament he was in. He couldn't walk, and he had nothing to assist him. All he did was the floor. It took just a few seconds before the two became best friends, and now he wouldn't have it any other way. Thankfully the floor in the Capitol was much cleaner than the streets of district two.

Blue eyes scanned through the dining hall before locking on his plate. He was hungry, and it was time to eat.

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[uwu]

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Nothing was better than having the option of so much food. Except for maybe killing someone I really hated. Even then, I can't really eat the body. There's even foods that I don't recognize at all. What the hell is a "deviled egg?" Did a devil come and bless it or something? I move on from the demon-spawn food so I could keep the line moving. Kinda wish there was this much food back home. I wonder what they do with all the excess food that people don't eat? I better get as much as I can so they don't... er... waste it.

Finally filling my plate to the brink, I turn around to find an open seat. Scanning the room, multiple open seats catch my eye, but I forget about them when I see a large mass sliding across the ground with a plate on its back. Is that... is that a tribute? His movements mesmerize me as I watch him maneuver across the ground into a seat without managing to spill much food, or even any. Damn, that's impressive. He's kinda like Anna. I'm gonna go talk to him.

I head over to his table and sit down across from him. "Hey, I'm Marcus." I'm about to make a comment about his legs, but I hold my tongue before. Would you mention it to Anna? Probably. Well if she wasn't family? Probably not. It's bloody rude, you dipshit. Just ask yourself if Anna would appreciate it if someone said something to her about her condition. "My sister also has legs that don't work, but probably because of other reasons." Well there goes that promise. Would my sister consider that rude? I don't know. It came out anyways. At least it'll make an interesting conversation. Hopefully. Whatever. Why do I even care? He seems cool. He wouldn't mind.

[Knuckles]

Ivar Hammerfell Seventeen | Male | District Two

A blank gaze locked on the food in front of him as he lifted a piece of bread allowing himself to devour it. He watched a kid move towards him, yet his eyes stayed focused on his plate. Just become invisible like at home and maybe the kid would go away. Ivar didn't have time for questions anymore, but perhaps that wasn't it at all. Maybe it was only a chance to get to know the man, to learn more about him. But I don't care about him.

Questions never ended. Everywhere he looked back in district two someone asked him to share his story. Yeah, his story was his own, and it created him into the individual he was slowly becoming, but nobody stopped to realize how many times he told it. It was growing old, and Ivar didn't want anyone to ask him the same thing again. But as he put some food into his mouth, the crippled teen couldn't stop one of the district seven males from talking to him. The kid introduced himself as Marcus, and while Ivar wanted to push him away, words kept spewing from his lips as he questioned his lame legs. His lips twitched, and he snarled at the question. If only he knew how many times I've been asked. But before Ivar had the chance to answer, the kid stated his sister was the same.

Something inside Ivar snapped, yet he told himself to not lash out. Eedun advised him against it, and he wanted to keep himself calm. Let them think I'm weak. He reminded himself over and over, but he felt like it wasn't enough. All the work he had placed into his life was slowly slipping away, and he wanted to hold onto the rope instead of sinking.

"Why do you care?" He asked keeping his voice clear of any emotion. "Don't let my legs fool you, kid."

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I wonder what Anna would have done if she got reaped. His response stops my brain from wondering into the curiosity of the what if. "Why do you care?" Why do I care? That's a very good question. "I guess it's because it reminded my of my family. Well my sister." She's probably the most important person in my life. He doesn't need to know my life story. Unless he wants to. But I don't want to annoy him. He looks like he could probably beat me up still. If he can catch me first.

"Don't let my legs fool you, kid." I nod. "I won't. My sister was able to do a lot back home, and I don't doubt that you can still be a threat." I grab a couple bites of food. Damn, this food is good. I'm still jealous that the Capitol has all this food while in District 7, we don't. So many great things here. What would happen if I stole some stuff and brought it into the arena with me?

"So how come you volunteered?" I didn't really give much thought into the question, but I figure it'll be good enough since every tribute here volunteered, thanks to the quell twist. How many tributes are here? I know there's 7 including myself from District 7. I wonder if there's more than 24. Shit. More than 24 people I have to kill. Oh well. I'll enjoy killing off all of them. Especially Seth. Maybe Seth. Do i have feelings for Seth? Shit. No i don't. I can't. I gotta kill him.

[Knuckles]

Ivar Hammerfell Seventeen | Male | District Two

If there was one thing Ivar hated more than anything in the world, it was being compared to someone else. Being a shadow taunted his every waking second, and to sat and listen as this man stated Ivar reminded him of his sister only clawed at his soul. All he wanted was a chance to make a difference, a chance to show the world that he was his own person, yet it never seemed enough, and now he didn't know where he stood. It tore him apart while slowly devouring him. It wasn't right, and regardless of how many times he preached against it, the facts never registered. His life was a broken dream. Nobody cared for him, and nobody ever would. He swallowed hard trying to pretend that nothing mattered. Trying to play a part he set out to play. Yet deep inside his emotions were boiling inside a pot as the pressure slowly built up - it was just a matter of time before the teen would blow.

But the question about why he volunteered caught him off guard.

In his mind many answers were correct. It gave him a chance to show he was strong. It gave him a chance to prove that he could fight along side other careers. That had been his goal from the beginning, but he had made mistake. He tore apart his own pride to find someone to pity him. But it wasn't worth it. He didn't want anyone looking down or belittling him. Pity wasn't needed. He wanted to appear as though he wasn't a threat.

"I volunteered because this is fun." A cocky grin slowly twisted across his face as he sat a piece of food down on his plate, "It gives me a chance to show the world just how great I truly am."

His eyes locked in place focusing on the male seated near him.

"I volunteered because I want to prove to crippled people throughout Panem that they can succeed as long as they set their mind to it."

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Something seemed up when he heard my statements. It's probably nothing. I shouldn't push it anymore. It's probably gonna end up with problems later on. What's wrong with me? I'm not taking a chance to annoy someone. Why aren't I taking the chance? Is it because he reminds me of her? No. It can't be. He isn't her. She's my sister, and he's just a stranger that I'll probably never see again. I might not ever see Anna again. No. I will see her again. I gotta. Whatever. I don't gotta worry about that. I'm gonna win. Obviously. I'm the best around.

I take a large forkload of food and placed it into my mouth as he responded."I volunteered because this is fun. It gives me a chance to show the world just how great I truly am" Shit, I shouldn't have taken that big of a bite. Now I want to smile, but I don't want to do it with with all this food in my mouth. Swallowing the food took harder and longer than it should have taken, but it happened, which lead to a smile across my face. "I volunteered because I want to prove to crippled people throughout Panem that they can succeed as long as they set their mind to it." This dude is amazing.

I didn't realize it until after his last statement, but he locked his vision on me. In turn, I tried to imitate his glare. "Dude, you're awesome. I'm sure you'll make it far. If you win, i'd love it if you met my sister. I'm sure y'all would hit it off well." A career and a District 7. Both crippled. That would be an interesting love story. If only both of us could live to see it... time to eat more food. I lower my gaze back down to my food and begin to eat again. "I'm also totally with you for showing off and shit. That's partially why I volunteered as well."

[Knuckles]

Ivar Hammerfell Seventeen | Male | District Two

This was the life Ivar had yearned for. Every second of every single day was a struggle, yet he found himself seated at the top. Nobody would bring him down, not even this kid from seven. But Ivar wanted to eat the food resting in front of him. It called his name begging for him to devour it. The longer this kid talked, the colder his food became. He wasn't used to eating cold food, but he wouldn't let it stop him. Reaching down with his fork, he lifted up a bite shoveling it into his mouth. It was only right considering his company had done the same. All of it was slowly working to his advantage. Acquaintances were important to his game, however, everyone here was the enemy, and Ivar understood.

"Dude, you're awesome."

The rest of what the kid said was history. All the crippled teen cared for was those words. Hearing someone building him up instead of throwing him down was the ultimate way of life, but he wasn't used to it. Part of his reasoning to volunteer was to prove his worth to his father, and to hopefully make Sigurd stop bashing him. But why would anyone bash the dead? Surely his death would render the family into a terrible slump, yet the Hammerfells were used to it. Losing three in games before. The forth was the charm, and Ivar wanted to succeed more than anyone would ever know. It wasn't about killing people;

It was about proving a point.

"So you come from seven, and you like showing off." Ivar stated as he placed his fork on the table beside his plate, "What's something you've done that's show worthy?" Interlacing his fingers, he folded them together waiting for an answer.

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I finish chewing, then proceed to look back up at the fellow tribute. He seemed to take the compliment well. Maybe he won't kill me later on. A small act of kindness goes a long way. That's what the quote goes, right? Something like that, yeah. Whatever. I really hope he doesn't try to kill me. Until he has to of course. But still. Even as a crippled, he's still a big threat. He's still a career I think. Did he mention that? Shit. Probably is.

"So you come from seven, and you like showing off." I nod, but being to think about how he phrased the statement. Do I really show off? Or is it something else? Does messing around with people count as showing off? When was the last time I showed off? I showed how powerful I was when I was against Seth. But that's because he deserved a lesson.

"What's something you've done that's show worthy?" My mind goes blank. "Show worthy?" What's that supposed to mean? Nothing seems to be coming out of my mind to help me answer the question. Lie. Make up something.

"I know how to fight. I've been in a few of those. I may not of been the winner every time,, but I definitely did just as much damage to them as they did to me." Isn't that what technically happen with Seth? "I also pride myself in being able to run forever." Do people enjoy tributes running forever? It's better than nothing. "Oh! Did I tell you how I escaped the District and successfully crossed back into it?" WHy did I share that? I should not have shared that. Fuck. "You better not tell anyone, though. Please don't I don't want my family getting hurt for what I did."

[Knuckles]

Ivar Hammerfell Seventeen | Male | District Two

For a moment it all lingered heavily in the thin air as Ivar shifted his gaze between his food and the boy from seven. District seven had strong competitors in the past - Margaret DuBois, Heather Tenly, the Summit family just to name a few, perhaps the challenge from district seven would still linger on. It's come so close to a victor, and yet none of them were victorious. Being close didn't count because they still died. Ivar wondered if this man and the other volunteers would turn out like district seven had done before, but something was off. It wasn't something he could put a finger on at the moment, and Ivar knew he would have to keep a close eye out on his new acquaintance.

A boy from seven that knew how to fight. It wasn't something Ivar would've imagined seeing as they came from a different walk of life. District two had training, and he wasn't even sure what went on in district seven. Perhaps it was wrong of him to judge a book by its cover. Only one would judge the universe of fallen tributes, and Ivar wasn't that person. It wasn't his place, yet he went around stalking the prey picking out easy targets. Someone to kill before they had the chance to kill him.

This kid was more than what meets the eye.

He enjoyed fighting and getting into fights. Damaging people. Making sure they were in trouble instead of them harming him. Doing just as much damage. It was the same thing every time. Ivar remembered stepping foot into the training center learning how to fight. His mediocre combat skills became sharper with each passing second. Learning right from wrong. How to hold the weapon despite it all changing soon after.

And apparently this kid knew how to sneak around.

Making a mental note to keep watch of him, Ivar locked his gaze on the boy in front of him -

"Can't win everything." A hint of curiosity filled his voice, "Running is a skill many take for granted. Remember to never do that." Offering suggestions, hints wasn't his life, yet he was tired of people taking the little things in life for granted. Once he was able to walk and run, but it all changed, and he was tired of people never saying thank you to their legs. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Have no reason to. It doesn't benefit me in the end."

He lifted his fork and took another bite of meat;

"I think I like you kid." He paused with a quick shrug of his shoulders; "There's definitely more to you than meets the eye. Perhaps one day I will find out what that is."

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