Gilding the Lily [Diorite & Salome]

[Deleted]

Salome Izar

You’re exhausted. Lunch comes and you can barely put one foot in front of the other. The door to the dining hall is heavy, and you’re one of the last to push your way into line. There are so many that chatter with one another now. Have you fallen behind? You feel as though so many of them know one another, and you’re still a shadow looking on from behind. Some would’ve thought this a smarter strategy than being known, but it didn’t offer much protection. You take a tray and saddle up in line, taking plates of this and that—buttered mushrooms, fried chicken, okra, beets, and slices of cake—things you may never taste again.

You rub sleep from your eyes. The overhead fluorescent lights don’t help rid the room of its sanitary feel. You can’t spot Gentian anywhere. It would have been much easier to see his smiling face. You don’t suppose any of the other lower district boys or girls would want for you to join them—with fifty odd bodies, you’re starting to find yourself feeling very much alone. Funny how you thought standing up for your district would make you feel whole; now you couldn’t feel further away from everyone. Even Tamron seemed a mystery; was he even in your suite much at all?

But the variety of souls at least leads to interesting happenings. The curl of a tulip catches your eye, and you note that it’s another career—Dory?—wearing a crown of flowers atop her head. For a moment you think of your sister and your cousin Nekane. The three of you used to make flower crowns when you were girls, and play pretend as though you were princesses. Magdalena always wanted a crown of tulips, and Nekane much preferred violets. You were more partial to carnations. There was enough variety to have pink, white, yellow, and red all in one little crown atop your head. You smile and move to the edge of the girl’s table.

“Your crown is fabulous,” Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation that has you forgetting this girl is a career, but you can’t help yourself. “I haven’t seen one of them since I was a little girl.” You place down your tray. “I’m Salome. From District Eleven.” Maybe this was a premonition of what was to come, your lack of judgment when it came to such little sleep. “Why are you wearing that?”

[Gryphon]

d i o r i t e   f r a y

She always found a way.

Little dreamer girl with her grin of satisfaction and hands folded over her lap as she wore a ring of nature's most breathtaking of its floral batches upon her head. Dreamer girl on her side of the line and drowning girl on the other, this time she crosses boundaries and black reality may think it can outsmart her

but she always finds a way.

And today was that day when she did, when I was at the station of plants with some plain beautiful, burning your veins, with a healing touch, some you can make part of yourself.

I couldn't really tell which was which, all I knew was how to let my fingers slide along the petals until they joined together with others in stunning accessories--and that's what they did. Hands returned to the habit and the girl in her own world of want took control until the crown was complete. My eyes widened at the work I've just made, tulips in romantic colors and then they

rise from my vision up to my head.

I'm sure Cricket and Hera won't mind.

I hope they don't.

The superstar sun performs a dance with lunch when it steps on the stage, many scents of deliciousness reaching my nostrils instantaneously when I get past the doors. The audience are excitedly enjoying the number, I'm surrounded by conversation and laughter and it's like the shadows are strictly prohibited from emerging on this day.

Unsure of what to make of this, the girl in reality without her sea and without her darkness silently collects her food and takes a seat.

As the duo rolls on, I soon make one of my own.

“Your crown is fabulous, I haven’t seen one of them since I was a little girl.”

Her skin is slightly darker than mine and her hair spins in dark, earthy tornadoes. She adds a number to the trays on the table, to the occupied seats, to a group of one.

“I’m Salome. From District Eleven. Why are you wearing that?”

A girl from one of the most unlucky of us all, it's apparent she carries an insufficiency of sleep but still a surplus of kindness. I smile warmly at her, give a nod before lifting a bite of pasta salad to my planet lips.

"Thank you. I'm Diorite Fray, District One." The noodles go down and I giggle. "The universe in my head, I can't get enough of it today it seems."

I swallow another mouthful.

"...I have a couple questions of my own, Salome Izar--first, would you like the crown? I can always make another. Second, I can tell you aren't fully here. What's taken the wind out of your sails?"

table made by lance <3333