lost in time and taste |zagreus/tobias|

[mat]

[googlefont="Finger Paint:400"]

tobias staite

we rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.
we rise; one wandering thought pollutes the day.
we feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
embrace found woe, or cast our cares away.

Launching spears time and time again doesn’t bode well on an empty stomach. I throw one more, this time with a reckless spear to the dummy’s lower abdomen. The trainer, who stared at me with impatient eyes, finally planted his arm on my shoulder and told me enough was enough. I didn’t know the time, or for how long I threw the spears for. However, judging by the holes that went in the front and out the back of the dummy, I can only assume a long time.

I set the spear I once planned to continue to throw on the rack and smile at the trainer. He tells me to get a bit to eat and drink, and I should come back later when I don’t look so exhausted and hungry. The odd part is that I don’t feel tired despite relying on my old insomniac tendencies, I don’t feel the desire to rest. Probably not a good sign, but I ponder on it scarcely. I’ve felt this way before, and I’m still standing. Sleep would be nice, but not at the expense of losing focus on the task at hand: survival.

I grab a fair about of food, a nice turkey and lettuce sandwich, an apple, and a glass of water. Carrying the tray to the dining hall, I look for a place to sit. Tributes are scattered about, most of them alone. One boy, much taller than me, sits alone at one of the tables. I walk over there, thinking it best to make some friends and allies so at least people might feel bad if they try to kill me.

”You mind?” I ask, but my tray is already resting on the table.

Not very courteous of you, Tobias. Hopefully he doesn’t mind a bit of company.

[kap]

zagreus moon

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what part

of living

Insomnia. Hunger. They were two things I knew I'd have to deal with in the arena, but while I was in the Capitol, I wasn't going to let them interfere with my training. That meant that I had to get at least a decent amount of sleep each night and eat sufficient amounts of food. Therefore, after a long afternoon of training, I went to get some lunch. I'd always been a rather healthy individual. Caitir had often pointed that out to me. I was going to stick with that, too, as it was best to be healthy before the Games, even though I was given the option of various delicious-looking deserts that never would have been available back in Eight.

I'd decided on a fruit cup with various exotic-looking fruits I'd never seen before, as well as a ham and cheese sandwich, followed by a glass of orange-colored juice, that I assumed- and hoped- was just regular orange juice. I sat down at an empty table, not really in the mood to mingle with any of the tributes that were presently in the room, and started to pick at my fruit with a fork. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I knew I would have to consume something anyway if I wanted to keep my strength up.

When I was about to take my first bite, however, I was interrupted. A boy who looked the slightest bit younger than me took a seat at the table after asking if I minded. I didn't have a chance to respond, but I wasn't going to argue. At least he was being polite. That was something I hadn't experienced much of here.

"Not at all. Be my guest," I told him with a slight smile. For some reason, I couldn't recall which District he was from, but I was almost certain I knew his name. There were two tributes by the same first name here, but I knew they had different last names. His name was Tobias, but which one was he? Would that be an alright thing to ask?

"You're Tobias, right? I'm Zagreus. District Eight. Which Distirct are you from?"

says you

gotta die

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---

Thank you for the table, Arx!

[mat]

[googlefont="Finger Paint:400"]

tobias staite

we rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.
we rise; one wandering thought pollutes the day.
we feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
embrace found woe, or cast our cares away.

”Not at all. Be my guest,” I appreciate his warm welcome, even if I did assert myself without asking him first. He’s an attractive fellow: nicely defined face, good figure, strong. The type that looked more than willing to kill if it meant going home. But he flashes a smile, and for the first time since arriving in the Capitol, I flash one quickly back. ”You’re Tobias, gift? I’m Zagreus. District Eight. Which District are you from?”

Zagreus, a pretty name, an usual one as well. I didn’t know it until he introduced himself, as I only knew the name of Samson, and at that it was only because she’s my District partner. I feel bad that he knew my name but if I took my own guess at his, I’d never be right.

”Four. Tobias Staite,” I talk quickly, mostly because I was eager to bite into the apple. It has a bizarre taste: not like any of the apples they have in District Four. The taste seemed artificial, sugary, and over-flavored. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and I set the bitten apple back onto the plate on my tray. I wash it down with the water which, quite literally, sparkles in the reflection of the lights. It doesn’t taste like water, either.

I laugh, looking into Zagreus’s eyes. ”You think anything in this place is real?” I ask him, then turn to stare at my sandwich. Do I dare take a bite? Will it taste as unreal as the water and the apple? I look at Zagreus again, ”It all seems so… extra.”

I personally enjoyed the simplicity of an apple picked from a normal tree, freshwater that was water, not a million things to please my taste buds.

It’s all too exotic, too illegitimate, too distant from day to day life in Four.

[kap]

zagreus moon

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---

what part

of living

Tobias states his last name and his District. Apparently, he's Tobias Staite from District Four. He didn't look as well-built as other tributes I'd seen from the Career Districts, but perhaps he was hiding his power. Or, perhaps he wasn't even a Career after all. Not everyone from Four was a Career, even if they volunteered, just like not every Career volunteered. If I were from One, Two or Four, I was sure I would have been one of the people who trained for the Games, whether I wanted to or not, due to my parents' demands that likely would have been ever present.

As Tobias started to eat his food, I took a bite of the already exotic-looking fruit that was in front of my, only to experience a strange taste that I couldn't determine whether or not was pleasant. Perhaps that's what this fruit always tasted like. Regardless, it was quite odd. That was when the other boy spoke what was almost exactly the thought running through my mind in that very moment. He asked if I thought anything there was real. As he described it as 'extra', I let out a slight laugh after swallowing the strange fruit.

"I'm not really sure, to be honest. It's all quite different from back home. I'd imagine it is for you, too?" I said, using my voice to make it sound like more of a question, but continuing on afterward anyway. "What made you decide to sit here of all places, anyway? I mean, I probably don't look like the least likely to bite someone's head off, do I? I'd like to look at least somewhat intimidating," I laughed. My own words were humorous to me, and I didn't really care how that looked. It was good to have some genuine fun once in a while. Especially in a place like this.

says you

gotta die

---

---

Thank you for the table, Arx!

[mat]

[googlefont="Finger Paint:400"]

tobias staite

we rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.
we rise; one wandering thought pollutes the day.
we feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
embrace found woe, or cast our cares away.

He laughed at my critique of the Capitol’s definition of food. At home it would have been silent stares. That’s the nice thing, I suppose, a clean slate with new beginnings. These people don’t know me, I don’t know them. I can be whoever I desire. I wipe my hands over my eyes, the spider webs and bags pulling down to my cheekbones. Three hours of collective waking up and falling asleep has it’s tolls, but the end goal is worth the exhaustion.

”I’m not really sure, to be honest. It’s all quite different from back home. I’d imagine it is for you, too?” I take a second to respond with a nod, simply because the power left a sickening taste in the back of my throat (never thought I’d say that… water with a bad taste.) By the time my nodding is over, he is already questioning me on what led me to sit with him of all people. He claims to want to look intimidating, and his claim is accurate. Yet I still sat with him, over the several others dining on their unusual foods.

He laughed and I laughed too, letting go of the cold glass. Zagreus Moon makes me comfortable, a feeling that isn’t too normal, especially under the circumstances. But he reminds me of Ezekiel, a slightly humorous nature but a brave one as well.

”Drawn to you, I guess,” I say, but afterwards I realize that the wording sounded too awkward. I continued anyway, though, ”maybe it’s fate.”

Ezekiel brought me here. He brought Zagreus here. I know that, or at least I want to know that. He’s giving me what I lost out on for years, I believe that.

Everything happens for a reason. I clear my throat, ”You believe in that stuff?”

[kap]

zagreus moon

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---

what part

of living

The District Four boy was a kind soul. It was actually quite surprising to me, and I wasn't sure why. It was like I didn't expect kindness from anyone in the Hunger Games. Then again, why should I expect it? A death match doesn't come in a package deal with kindness.

That was when Tobias said something again that I almost didn't catch. He said he was drawn to me. Then, however, without seeming to skip a beat, he continued. Even though the wording was a bit strange, I suppose that he didn't mean it to be awkward. He said that he supposed it was fate. I was never sure if I believed in fate or not. I knew some people who certainly did or certainly didn't.

Do you believe in fate, he had asked me. That was quite the question. I paused for a moment, not sure what to say. Did I believe in fate, or did I not? I wasn't sure, and I'd tell him just that.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," I told him. "Do you?"

says you

gotta die

---

---

Thank you for the table, Arx!

[mat]

[googlefont="Finger Paint:400"]

tobias staite

we rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.
we rise; one wandering thought pollutes the day.
we feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
embrace found woe, or cast our cares away.

”I’m not sure, to be honest. Do you?”

Of course I do. It’s slightly superstitious, but usually actions and words have purpose, no matter how big or small. Whether it be a decision that affects your life directly, or one that causes a domino effect, it’s real. I could’ve sat with another tribute, I could’ve sat alone, hell, I could’ve just went back to District Three’s floor to eat, or I could’ve just not eaten at all. Yet I sit with Zagreus Moon among millions of other decisions. That’s not by chance.

Ezekiel dying had purpose in my life; the nightmares are part of the larger plan, the bigger picture. Volunteering for the worst hell in Panem… it’s not like the people above just woke up and condemned twenty-three kids to death without some sort of reason. It has a deeper meaning than that, and whether it pleases me or not fate brought me and everyone else where they are standing (or sitting) today. It’s not coincidental.

I pick gently at the white bread, inspecting it to predict what wild modifications they could’ve made to something as simple as bread.

”Well, I don’t think that accidents are real,” I say, taking a little nibble on the bread. It’s tastes normal… enough. ”We might think of them as accidents, but there’s something out there who made it very… intentional.”

I swallow, looking back as Zagreus. Even little things like sharing a laugh can have much bigger results.

[kap]

zagreus moon

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---

what part

of living

Tobias responded to me that he didn't believe that accidents were real. It was one way to go about answering that particular question I'd given him. I nodded in response. He made sense, with what he was saying. Perhaps accidents weren't real. After all, none of us were hear by accident. It was more so by chance, or by choice. Whether the tribute was reaped of the tribute had volunteered, it all resulted in the same thing; going into the 77th Annual Hunger Games.

"That's a good point," I told him. "Then, that means, there must be a reason we're both seated here together, now, doesn't it? Perhaps we're meant to fight together, too." Where was I going with this. Did I just ask for an ally?

"What do you say?"

I think I did.

says you

gotta die

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Thank you for the table, Arx!