Our Song // Fallon x Lightning {blitz}

[Arrows]

District Four Male of the 75th Hunger Games

     Silence. Not a creature is stirring, not even a peace keeper. White walls wash away any sensibility that could lead me to believe that in this place I'm still human. Through these hellish halls my bare feet scurry along mimicking the mouse I have bid myself to become. Insomnia illuminates every inch of my intrusive imagination , igniting impulses, driving me down into the depths of the darkness. Stumbling in sleepless shambles I descend into the Center from the spinning stairway of my turbulent thoughts. I stand with sweat staining my brow as above me I sense the moons malignant gaze draining my away my dreams. 

    Minutes miraculously become moments while my fingers fidget ferociously with several threads. From the center I produce a semi circle with a calculated circumference compiled of a combination of various widths and lengths of thread. My mind, muddied by the math of my hasty sleep shot reasoning, takes control of my creation as it has done for as long as the seas of spun with salt. 

    Sound soon stirs from each string as my fingers slide along them. A song of the spirits of the sea shift through the silence, forces the shadows from their seclusion and banishes them from their safety. Cadences as though waves upon a starlight sands crest and fall. Crescendos captivate the accumulation of my sole occupation and I am entirely enwrapped within the music of my making. Each simple stir of a string shifts the tides of this sea, a sea I control, a sea where I can escape even the sentences that send me into shackles.

LIGHTNING  O'HANA

Sometimes our heads slip beneath the sea, and sometimes there's no way to breathe

[Stare]

hold on, 'cause what’s said is said
and what’s done’s done
oblivious clocks on the walls run
'cause time doesn’t owe us a thing

Fallon knew very well that she wasn't supposed to be wandering about by herself at night.

Mama wouldn't have allowed it at all. Laying down in bed was like the end of a chapter - there was no continuation, no next sentence to keep the reader going. But Fallon had always secretly disagreed, and sometimes when she was feeling especially rebellious she would slip from under the covers and tiptoe around her bedroom, watching galaxies spiral on her ceiling.

(There were a lot of things I disagreed with Mama about. She didn't see the monsters. She didn't believe in them. No one did.)

(They all believe in monsters now.)

The fireflies had long since gone to sleep when she happened to hear the music. Her heart lifted slightly, face spreading out to a bright smile. It was snowing in the Training Center where she found him, and without even thinking her bare feet began to raise up and spiral about. She was behind him - he couldn't see, she had no audience - and something about the secrecy made it as though he weren't there at all. The music could have been floating from nowhere, from nothing. The snow numbed her toes, but she didn't mind as she brought her arms up to form a circle in front of her and spun about, letting snowflakes catch in her hair and eyelashes. After a few moments she paused, tilting her head back and basking in the impromptu blizzard.

"You're very good," she said at last, still smiling at the sky.

we are the sum of our parts
and we’ve both seen
the palms of our hands where the lines meet
it’s fortune that favors the brave ones

[Arrows]

District Four Male of the 75th Hunger Games

     Since my arrival on this foreign shore of glistening glass and colorful creatures, solitude has become my cell. Stuck within the shackles of the shadows and lost within the lamentations of the lonely I have known no comfort. For hours I have hellishly hauled myself through senseless stimulation of my skills all for pointless speculative stares. Yet now among the silent shell of the night I do dauntingly drill myself through my movements. My fingers flutter upon their own streams of song and slide softly upon each string with successive seduction. Within this enchantment I am not alone, I am back beneath a brilliant blue moon as the sea swells in over the shining sands. I am far away from the fervor of frightened children crawling like devils towards their own catastrophes. 

    Among the dancing dream I sense a silhouette stained by the shining spirits of the stars. As each string sings I sense the shadow spinning within the symphony of my creation. While I sense her among the shadows I feel my senses of sorrowful begin to drain from my dreams. The cell door rusts and I am able to walk out of my solitary confinement. I feel myself returning to the surface from the shadowed depths of the darkest sea. 

    A final note falls through the fog of my fruitful revival and my eyes meet a girl whose voice seems to produce the most pristine purity. Her smile is sweet and her skin seems so soft among the night's shadows. Her eyes glisten with the gleaming gorgeousness of an untouched heart of gold. For a moment I am unsure whether I am still lingering within the lands of my mind and an angel has come for me. But she is far too real, too human for my mental mind to manipulate into existence. So I smile back at her as soft as the sands on my home's shore.

    "Its actually really easy, I can teach you if you'd like. You're Fallon right? I'm Lightning."

LIGHTNING  O'HANA

Sometimes our heads slip beneath the sea, and sometimes there's no way to breathe

[Stare]

hold on, 'cause what’s said is said
and what’s done’s done
oblivious clocks on the walls run
'cause time doesn’t owe us a thing

Her face spread into a wider smile and she glanced at him, raising one eyebrow. He was pale and quick, but he didn't disappear no longer how long she looked at him. And he seemed to move to the sound of music rather than the crashing of thunder overhead. Mama had always expected Fallon to be afraid of thunderstorms, but she wasn't. She loved to stand on the front porch and watch them, toes curling at the edge of raised concrete and arms outstretched to embrace the rain.

"No you're not," she said, laughing a bit. She straightened her back and drifted over closer to him. She kept some distance, just in case he suddenly did turn into lightning and shock her. But no, this boy was no storm. He was too calm, too peaceful. Fallon leaned down and peered closer at his face. Then, cautiously, she reached forward and brushed a finger against his wrist. "When you're struck by lightning, it leaves two scars." She held up the finger. "I don't even have one."

The snow was sticking to his hair. She considered brushing it away, then changed her mind and focused on the threads instead, tilting her head slightly. "We don't have music like this, but Mama used to play the piano," she murmured. "Some of my siblings can, too, but they never let me try. I think they're scared I'll break the music." She raised her gaze to meet his. "You sure I won't break this, too?"

we are the sum of our parts
and we’ve both seen
the palms of our hands where the lines meet
it’s fortune that favors the brave ones