Creating a harmony [Fiona/Quest]

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[presto][/presto]

My heart breaks for the girl, it really does. I didn't expect that the outcome was going to end with the child's life, but watching Shy take another life has opened my eyes. This hunger games that we were sent into is a brutal ass beating that we simply just can't escape. We are trapped to the point that we are all pretty much senseless killing machines being programed that it's okay to fend for your life against someone years younger than yourself. Upon leaving, I felt compelled to tend to my district partner. Apology or not, I can't be sure that it was because he was being genuine or an act of mercy for me and my ally to spare him. Either way, I came so close to losing myself that my stomach churns from within with the thought that I almost became a killer. I almost became like Shy and took his life away from him. I told him it wasn't going to be my fault and I couldn't lie and thank ripred I do not have to explain to his family that his death was my fault.

Citing a fault only creates a bigger mess within that persons heart and that's the last thing I need as I think to home. I have no one else there that loves me. Memories will die with my death. I am the last of the generation and there will be nothing left of the Zachariah's from district nine. A forgotten legacy that was never meant to be.

"Fuck it all..." My mouth expels the words that my heart won't let bleed, but my head hits against my knees that are pulled into my stomach. Over and over, spots come and go with the motions until I find my eyes spilling over and my arms wrap around my knees tighter to hold myself together. "I'm a monster."

The words released letting my heart realize what I knew might happen all along. "I've lost who I was grandfather. Everything you are and you tried to teach me is gone. My sensibility and the need to make everything fair. The level head you always told me to keep in the face of adversity and to never act rash, but I have, grandfather. Mom, I'm sorry I've disappointed you. I'm sorry Dad for making you ashamed of me. I'm glad that you can not see what I've become and I can only think that someone will have mercy on me and kill me before I ever have a chance to kill someone else." I plea with the empty arena created upon a whim of a egomaniac hell bent on killing children without ever getting dirt under their nails. This world is a sick place.

With the crashing waves, I find myself lulling into a calmer state. My head never leaving the comfort of my knees. My fingers instinctively reaching for my bag and drawing out the book. "I don't deserve you Faux. You're pages were always filled with wishes and hopes and the love of an ally, but if I write in you anymore then it's nothing but a falsification of what I used to be." My eyes leak a poisonous substance. A weakness of sorts especially for my family. Tears never heal anything and here I am trying to seek justice for a wrong that I have committed. And so I look to the edge of the cliff longingly.

"Should I Faux? Should I leave you where it's peaceful and you won't have to watch me be devoured by the devilish instincts that my body wants to produce?"

I can't help but open the first page again, looking at his name. It still hurts to think that something might have been there between us, but luckily something happened before I fell too hard. To love yet another love would have been all too tragic in the life of an orphaned girl separated by hell and fire. Those words, the first few words were of a wish for him to return and a hatred for his absence. With a gentle stroke, I feel for the letters only to be returned that of a level word. It's almost as if he never existed and a bubbling hint of remorse makes my nails dig into the spine of the book and I draw it back preparing to launch it over the edge of the cliff.

"Forgive me, Faux..."

[Deleted]

Quest Hertz

Oh, I wanna come near and give ya
Every part of me
But there's blood on my hands
And my lips aren’t clean

My body felt like it was coming apart.

A broken wrist, a broken ankle, some cuts here, blood there. Fan-fucking-tastic. I was missing a couple of fingers, too, which really would’ve put a damper on my love life if I thought I was going to get out of this alive. I’d lived – just as I’d thought, without much of a reason or consequence. People wanted to believe that there was some higher purpose, as though our fight had been about good and evil, but it’d just been a bunch of kids with weapons slugging it out until one of us bled to death. There weren’t sides – just bodies that kept going until their hearts gave out.

People were so distracted by some meaningful purpose to just do what they’d been programmed to do here, which was kill one another. And I don’t think that it’s right – I don’t think I’ve ever had a moral high ground – but I did think that if we started standing on hills about what we believed, that’s exactly where we were going to die. I also wasn’t about to say I didn’t deserve to live more than anyone else. Of course I thought I deserved it more than Auto. What kind of moron’s willing to sacrifice herself for a stranger?

That’s just common sense, and I think the longer we’re in here, the harder it is to hold onto.

Fiona walked a distance away from the rest of us. Shy helped to angle me down and I sat for a while, just listening to the waves. I wouldn’t have minded dying here, along the water. At least the fake sea had a sense of endlessness to it. I’d heard about real oceans before, a the edges of the world. There was a sense of potential when the world seemed to keep going. You weren’t defined by the walls people had built. You weren’t an other in a place that no one had ever been – just the first, the one that got to define what that meant.

Well fuck.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Fiona along the rocks, head down and speaking. It was gross how much guilt someone could feel about things so beyond their control. I’d met her – girls like her – that took things so personally, and felt deeply. They twisted the way the wind blew because they didn’t want to disappoint. It was all bullshit, really. In my opinion if you had to make someone feel guilty to get them to do what you wanted that was just manipulation. But then what did I know about love, or friendship?

“Hey Fiona. What the hell are you talking about over there?” I stood on my good ankle and started a staggering limp toward her. “You know I never got to thank you for… well, back there. So. Uh. Consider this me being grateful.” It would be so much easier if we could’ve just nodded in understanding to each other.

“You uh… you doing okay there champ?” I crossed my arms across my chest – I knew the answer, but that was beside the point.

*River by Leon Bridges

[*]

[presto][/presto]

My fingers were gripping the spine of Faux's journal pretty hard. It was like a part of me didn't infact want to let him go and it was a contest of strength of my mind or my heart that was really going to be able to let him go. It was a battle that I was willing to lose without a doubt. I didn't care what happened but either way, I was already hurting inside and the thought of emotionally losing Faux was almost more taxing then not. The harder I seemed to hold on to the book, my fingers began to twinge. My fingers were becoming stiff as I glanced out into the crashing waves below and beckoned my heart to make a choise. Either, I left Faux alone, or to fall with him and let the sea devour what could'nt be controled by the likes of my district partner or the millions of eyes probably watching over me right now.

My feelings were completely haywire.

"I'm sorry Faux..." Muscles tense up and I close my eyes for the exact moment that a voice called out and the grip on the book faultered, sauntering down and hitting my shoulder before clambering to the ground, bending pages and my feelings alike.

"No! Faux, -" A sense of urgency came about so abruptly that I found myself falling to my knees to collect the book. Her words came across the great sea in waves of sensibility and as I straightened the pages, looking to the name as to whom the book was addressed to the most, I closed the cover and held it against my body. I was hugging it as if it were real, but the book was just a faux reality of someone long since gone.

On my knees, I glanced up to her with soddened eyes, both pleading to leave me alone, but also to never leave me to be by my own.

"You know I never got to thank you for... well, back there. So. Uh. Consider this me being grateful. You uh... you doing okay there champ?" Her words weren't fooling anyone. I knew why she was there. The questions running through my mind was that she was going to consider me a fool for wanting to throw everything away just from one awry battle that left a child dead and one mentally scarred. She couldn't possibly understand the grief I felt for what I helped to do and what I failed to accomplish.

"Sure." Disguising my voice as best as I could would only do so much when she probably saw more then she would care to admit, but I wasn't ready to admit it. It was something I was also taught growing up and it was that tears never solved any problem but never admit defeat to a complete stranger.

Quest was different though. I'm not sure how.

"If you count being a complete spaz and helping to kill a child. I used to babysit all the younger kids back home. I used to be like an older parent to them, and they loved me and do you think that they are looking at me in a different light now?" That question needed no answer but I knew what she might say. "Doesn't matter. I'm as good as dead tomorrow. What we did was terrible... she never had a chance. It wasn't even her that I had a grudge against and I hate it. Faux would have been so disappointed in me. My own grandfather told me never to act rash... yet here we are -" It was like I finally looked at her and the comprehension of her wounds had come to light.

"Shit, why don't you sit, please. You look terrible." I aim to help her, a need that my heart could finally place into a different pile of feelings. "Sorry - no filter. I'm sorry you got hurt and you're welcome - for earlier."

Can Fiona catch a word better than the book?
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881e1a
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[Deleted]

Quest Hertz


Oh, I wanna come near and give ya
Every part of me
But there's blood on my hands
And my lips aren’t clean

I wanted to believe that I could feel anything as deeply as someone like Fiona. Wilfred said that I was missing pieces – it’s what separated us from the rest of the faceless crowd. I didn’t believe anyone could invest so much in another person. It was a recipe for getting ripped off. Invest all your time and energy in someone that was just going to disappoint you, and then what? My own parents couldn’t live up to the sort of unconditional love some folks talked about, how was I supposed to expect that from another person? But it didn’t bother me, not having that urge to trust. It kept a better perspective, being able to weed out the phonies and the folks that weren’t worth my time.

She clutched a book and looked at me with those eyes, the same splotchy red sort of face that Shy brought to me after the second day. It made me bristle, ready my walls for whatever kind of emotional baggage she might be spilling out. Except the words don’t come. She steadied herself, and kept on the ground. I felt sorry for her, for letting anyone feel so badly about what she thought she’d done. Then again, she hadn’t been the one who’d broken the girl from three until she stopped fucking moving.

If you count being a complete spaz and helping to kill a child. I used to babysit all the younger kids back home. I used to be like an older parent to them, and they loved me and do you think that they are looking at me in a different light now?

People spent an awful lot of time here thinking about what everyone else was saying or thinking about them. Seemed like a waste of energy to me, to care about what sort of reputation or legacy you were going to get. For one, it just distracted from the purpose of staying alive. Look at Auto – she seemed awfully set on cultivating some sort of dangerous persona that she’d gone and gotten herself killed. Next, those people didn’t know the first fucking thing about what was going on here. They couldn’t know what type of choice they’d make when two children came down on them with spears and knives. It was lightning in a bottle; we’d never replicate it if we tried, no matter who got out of here.

“My parents weren’t so good in my own life so, uh, don’t have a lot of experience to draw from.” I gave a shrug. “But either time’s gonna give them perspective or they weren’t ever gonna love you the way you wanted to be loved in the first place.” Was that too harsh? Except it was exactly how I felt. Folks that were willing to abandon you at the worst, or what they thought was your worst, they hadn’t been there for you in the first place. And children were fucking dumb too. They’d grow up and get over it, or find something else to distract them from the idea she’d been here.

Doesn't matter. I'm as good as dead tomorrow. What we did was terrible... she never had a chance. It wasn't even her that I had a grudge against and I hate it. Faux would have been so disappointed in me. My own grandfather told me never to act rash... yet here we are…

“You know, you seem to take a lot of this on your own shoulders.” I started, and before I could finish she offers me a seat. I let out a hiss as I steadied myself on my good leg, and plopped down at her side.

“Your grandfather wasn’t wrong – acting just on how you feel is usually a way to be disappointed.” My grandfather had been too out of his own mind to offer any advice. He did give pretty good hugs, though. I stared off across as the waves in the distance. “I meant what I said the other day, Fiona. We’re all dead already. We don’t have some higher purpose here. We’re just a bunch of idiots smacking each other until we fall down. People are hoping we do start letting this get to us.” It came out as bad as it sounded, but my honesty was like a stiff drink.

“You’ll be a lot stronger when you put yourself first, and stop worrying what someone might be thinking about you.”

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[presto][/presto]

Pain was all she was right now. Broken things all over her body and yet she came over to heal something that couldn't be healed. The gestures was welcomed since it took me away from the nearly severed heart as it was. Even trying to assist her to a sitting position, she seemed to take it on her own. She didn't let others help her as much and she only confirmed my suspicions about her own moral compass. It was refreshing to hear it as if my grandfather's personality was paraphrased by her.

"Your grandfather wasn't wrong - acting just on how you feel is usually a way to be disappointed. I meant what I said the other day, Fiona. We're all dead already. We don't have some higher purpose here. We're just a bunch of idiots smacking each other until we fall down..." I nod to her, placing myself at her side, facing her. My knees drawn back up to my chest, the book between - protected.

"I thought that was just a ploy of anger the other day when you said that. That's why I sent that word to you and to Shy. I truly feel like there's good and a sensible heart in you -" It's a simple read of her, but I could always be wrong. "I am not my grandfather. I've built a wall and I never thought that it could be torn down but these games - it turns years of practice to become hard, soften even the most enduring people."

"You'll be a lot stronger when you put yourself first, and stop worrying what someone might be thinking about you."

"Like you?" My face cracks. "I am strong - I know I am, but I've already started to lose who I was. What people think of me - the only ones that really mattered was my family and they are all gone. You can go home to your family. I'll go home to an empty house. What's the point of fighting for graves already planted over? So, you're right. But how do you wake up the dead?"

Can Fiona catch a word better than the book?
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881e1a
1-4

[Deleted]

Quest Hertz

Oh, I wanna come near and give ya
Every part of me
But there's blood on my hands
And my lips aren’t clean

I thought that was just a ploy of anger the other day when you said that. That's why I sent that word to you and to Shy. I truly feel like there's good and a sensible heart in you –

Was she for real right now?

Wilfred would’ve been laughing his ass off. Me, a good and sensible heart. I was the girl that spoke plain and did exactly as I said I was going to do. I don’t know if anyone had ever called me good, at least, not unless you counted my brother when we were children. That sort of descriptor was reserved for the type of children like Shy or Carmen; kids with hearts that hadn’t gone from fresh to spoiled (not that I believed I was rotten, just not normal). And, despite all the pain that crept up through my ankle, and into my wrist, I couldn’t help but give a wry smile.

I am not my grandfather. I've built a wall and I never thought that it could be torn down but these games - it turns years of practice to become hard, soften even the most enduring people.

I wondered what sort of bad blood there was there. I hadn’t learned much about any of the others, so it was easy to forget all the humanity buried underneath. “It’s some real shit they put us through, that’s for sure.” Maybe the difference was that she hadn’t chosen this. I’d found my escape hatch and taken it. Knowing the cost softened what it meant, being here, and doing what needed to be done.

I am strong - I know I am, but I've already started to lose who I was. What people think of me - the only ones that really mattered was my family and they are all gone.

“Oh.” I said because what else can you say to someone that lost everyone? A shitty world where she’d had to lose everyone, and then get tossed into this place? I wished there was a way to take it out on the game makers, to do something for someone that seemed wronged.

You can go home to your family. I'll go home to an empty house. What's the point of fighting for graves already planted over?

My family would’ve wasted no time in milking my fame and fortune if I managed to return to district six. I half imagined my father had sold half of my belongings to folks to raise a quick buck, and was waiting to see when I died so that he could sell the rest for an even prettier penny. My mother was probably trawling for dick in her local haunts, talking about her daughter was on the television. It’s not the same vision she must’ve had of parents – creatures that were supposed to give unconditional love, and show us the way.

Death – heh. What was she fighting for, if all she had left was already gone?

So, you're right. But how do you wake up the dead?

“I don’t think we can do anything for the dead, Fiona.” I thought of Wilfred, the only friend I’d ever had. He was dust and bones now. He couldn’t be angry at the wounds I’d endured, or the choices I’d made. He didn’t exist to haunt me, to drive me or guide me.

“I think the question is – what do we owe each other, Fiona?” I listened to the waves along the rocks, the rumbles in the distance. It wasn't just about us, but what did anyone owe anyone else? “I don’t pretend to know the first thing about how you’re supposed to live your life and, you probably don’t know how I should live mine. But you want to feel better about things being pointless? Or that the people you cared about aren’t here anymore?” I looked at her then, the eager eyed girl that felt and felt things fully.

“We either choose to live for the people that we want to live for, and accept not much else matters, or spend a whole lot of time beating ourselves up. Over people we think we’re disappointing, or people who’re long gone that we’ll never be able to bring back.” I gave a shrug. “I think the best way to live is… making sure that I’m not a complete selfish asshole. Seems to have kept me alive for now, anyway.”