show me a way to the sun {fuzzy}

[Lyn𝛿is]

[googlefont="Great Vibes:400"]

mila breukelen

Parsnip. Mint. Pennyroyal.

I recognize most of the plants the trainer has laid out - at least, the ones that grow in District Twelve. The ones we cook in our meals and buy from the apothecary's for our medicine cabinets. The ones sold in black markets for unmarried girls to brew teas from, should they wish it.

Others, however, are deceptive. There are shiny green poisonous leaves that look just like some of the spices we keep at home, mysterious mushrooms that can give you a stomachache, cause hallucinations, or just outright kill you, and plants that can make your skin blister just by touching them.

And there's no guarantee that the arena will have a food source at all. I remember the year where there was no food, no water, no wood, not even edible mutts. A year that seemed calculated to kill off Districts Eleven and Twelve quickly.

I glance over at the weapons table again. Everything there looks so utterly unfamiliar; a knife that is a weapon is far different from a knife for chopping vegetables or slicing bread, and honestly -

I'm scared.

Scared of the Careers milling about the place, of looking like a fool in front of them and being marked for an easy target that they'll try to kill first. Scared of the tributes who volunteered for a chance at revenge, the ones who shoved their way to the stage, eyes filled with hatred and anger.

And the rest of them? The ones who cried on stage, the ones who tremble and freeze and break down?

I look back to the rack of swords and knives.

I'm scared of thinking about having to kill them.

Back to the plants. Thunderwood, thorn-apple, rue. The kid next to me is puzzling over an umbrella of white flowers - my first thought is wild carrot until I notice something odd.

Unlike carrots or parsnips, the stem of this plant is hollow. My brother once traded some Seam kid for a whistle they'd carved from one; when Father found out, it was the only time I recall seeing him panic.

Until the Reaping.

Back then, he could snarl about wanting to kill the kid for their mishap, but now he is powerless against the Capitol.

"That's poison-parsnip," I blurt out to the boy. "Looks like a wild carrot, but you really don't want to be eating it."

OOC: ♛ scandal

[♛ scandal]

I decided to go to the plants station today. The most plants I have ever saw are the ones that grow in the cracks of the sidewalk. I don't even think they are classified as plants, their like weeds or something like that. The girl from twelve was there before I got there. She seemed like she knew what she was doing. I was envious of her talents. Growing up in twelve probably helped her with her plant knowledge.

The trainer laid out an array of plants for us to identify. I sat there, dumbfounded. I am tempted to just say leaf for every single plant, but the position I am in now, it is not something to joke about. 

I know that some of the plants are spices or stuff the fancy people add to their food for extra taste, because I smelled them. I still could not bring the names to mind. The second one was on my tongue, but I never really focused on plants in my studies. I was so lost. I skipped those plants and looked at a white umbrella plant. 

"That's poison-parsnip," the girl from twelve blurts out to me. I looked at her with a confused face.

What the fuck fudge is that?

"Looks like a wild carrot, but you really don't want to be eating it."

I never heard of a wild carrot, I thought there was only a carrot.

"Thank you. I am guessing I would have died if I happened to eat it in the arena. You might have just saved me life."

What I said was totally true. That information she just gave me could have saved my life in that arena. 

"I'm Bruce, district three."

[Lyn𝛿is]

[googlefont="Great Vibes:400"]

mila breukelen

"Thank you. I am guessing I would have died if I happened to eat it in the arena. You might have just saved me life."

Part of me tenses slightly, hoping that my casual remark wouldn't come back to bite me later in the Games. The tenuous relationships formed in the Training Center only went so far, and when there's seven people left between you and home you're willing to kill your friends to make it there.

"I'm Bruce, district three."

Then again, nobody deserved the hours of pain, the convulsions, a slow suffocating death that even a single bite of the root would cause. We see it in Twelve on occasion - a child forages for the wrong greens, and by morning the entire family is dead, foaming at the mouth. An axe to the face would be far more merciful.

"No problem. I'm Mila, district twelve," I say in response, holding out a hand to shake.

"Not much but plants and coal out there. You learn real quick what sort of things you don't eat."

We all felt the food shortages in the winter. The lucky would have enough jars of preserves to last until the spring; but whether Merchant or Seam, few would turn down a fresh bundle of wild greens. We learned to recognize the common ones, knowledge passed down each generation from parent to child.

So Ripred, what was I still doing at this station? It's been nearly twenty years since any tribute died outside of combat. After all, not a single one of the plants at the table were nearly as dangerous as the Gamemakers.

OOC: Notes