lucid reality [theodore&hologram!chester]
Dec 23, 2018 2:21:28 GMT -5
Post by Tom on Dec 23, 2018 2:21:28 GMT -5
Instead of locking himself away, he finds himself on a path of silence.
Waves from smiling faces and fake places takes his vision. Speaking is too hard for him to wave a hello back to them. Instead, he pushes through them with a glare at the ground and clenched fists. The flash of a camera not bothering him as he pushes the sunglasses back across his nose to block out the hangover of red wine and a shattered heart in his chest. Always a victor, but never a human. Parson Cham was living it up as a ghost somewhere else, away from Theodore Ursa for good.
The capitol isn't pretty. Never has been in Theodore's eyes. Only blood coats the pavements and the walls of concrete with the cheerfulness of entertainment in their veins. Never truly seeing past the form of content and truth of these human beings, just like the people in the capitol. Only seeing a kill count and the drama of real life like it was some television show meant to continue season after season. A sour taste fills Theodore's mouth as the taste of wine still sticks to his tongue.
Parson wasn't the only person he's failed. Quest was now dead too. As were the others before them who relied on Theodore Ursa to protect them and get them to the top. All of that a crash and burn of a pathetic man who can't do things right for them. Always on the edge of a lucid dream, but never able to fully control it. Only an observer among them all, despite how hard he tries to not give in to the bottom of a bottle or the failure that persistently stabs him in the heart taking piece after piece again and again, until there's nothing left but karma's collapse.
A mess of a victor is all Theodore was. Clothes tattered from lack of washing, alcohol stuck to his breath, and deep purple circles under his eyes from the exhaustion that is recognizing everything he believed and losing it all in a matter of seconds. A young boy's lucid reality of dreaming of a world where Parson Cham was his friend, hell more than his friend some days. A deep clearing of his throat comes to as he remembers this same crashing feeling from before. Chester Meisenzahl flashing before him in a memory of warm arms and tearful goodbyes. The blush of a kiss on the cheek in the feast as they separated from the lava. The relief in his skin when he found Chester and the way that he couldn't stop grinning at his friend.
The world came crumbling down over a dead boy from Three and the face of Chester Meisenzahl in the sky. Tears spent at night, until he ran into Emberly Lowe who tore him apart from the inside. Another sunrise to bask in until he was given the golden chance of survival as if it were god's plan to make him suffer. A deep breath as his lips quiver and tears threaten to come once more, but he ignores it. Theodore ignores the pit in his stomach of guilt and sorrow that threatens to eat away at his first attempt at leaving the room that belonged to Parson.
Star looked for him for so long when the door finally opened and he slunk away, out of her eye. Took only an hour for her to give up and give him the opportunity to make his way out of the place and to the one place where no one would expect him. Well, mostly everyone wouldn't. Charlie Garnet could show up at anytime, but he doubts it from the experience they had last time. Feet taking him past the halls where he can the Aesop and Sundra fountain glittering with water and pennies inside. The halls reach longer and longer as he pulls up his hood and pushes back the sunglasses once more as he lets himself wander over different items.
Older games artifacts that he mostly doesn't recognize. A different era of his own time that he didn't know all of. Except, he's seen the people who's gone through them. Aranica, Arbor, Lethe, and plenty of others that had gone through the games with many of the objects that surrounds him. There's an exhibit of fake mushrooms from the 59th that he passes with a deep frown on his lips and confusion in Theodore's veins. All he wanted was for the sorrow and guilt to pass through his system and find a way back to what he was before.
Back to the Teddy Ursa, who could face anything head on.
Not afraid of his own shadow like he was during the 76th.
Instead, he finds himself standing in the new exhibit. Alone. No one else, but the blank walls of the room and a panel where they can pick who to see and what to happen. Silence in his veins as he hovers over the desire to hit the one thing that will make the feeling grow. Fearful to see him again. Fearful to even have the idea of it. Teddy Ursa would have gone in head first into the problem, but he wasn't Teddy Ursa. Theodore Ursa trembled in the spot as he stared as the blackened words of Seventy Sixth Hunger Games Tribute, Chester Meisenzahl. Heart beating as he drops his hand away from the panel and instead falls into himself.
Flat on his bottom, curling into his own body as he lets himself break down for a moment.
As if anything could get worse, something flashes and right in front of his tear stained cheeks is Chester Meisenzahl. Looking exactly like he remembered him to be before he lost his friend. Silence in Theodore's chest as he holds his own breath, unable to comprehend even seeing the one person who he can't linger too long on or let himself fall deeper into dreams about him in fear of waking up sobbing. Tear streaked cheeks and trembling fingers is all he was. A mess in front of a hologram of Chester.
Rumor has it, that these holograms were almost lifelike as if they could respond like the true version of the same person that had once been there.
Theodore can only let out a word as he pushes himself fearfully away from the hologram.
"C-Chester."
The lucid reality of this situation only pushing himself farther back as he avoids staring fully at the fake Chester.
No one could program the person Teddy Ursa had befriended and liked for so long, despite being in a hellish landscape of death and losing everything because of it.
The price of becoming a victim instead of a victor.
