Dust to Dust [Peridot/Saturn]
Feb 14, 2019 18:13:29 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Feb 14, 2019 18:13:29 GMT -5
- Saturn RhoDon -
I am starting to see stars and moons
(it's an awful sham, but I follow suit)
This is how it ends, a courageous boom
(it's an awful sham, but I follow suit)
This is how it ends, a courageous boom
He tries to think about those that he has left behind –
He sees a family without their eldest son but, they can go on. His siblings know better than to fall apart over a boy like Saturn. They will use their pain to create, to grow, and become whatever it was that had eluded their brother in life. He recognizes that the capitol has made a choice for someone that contributed little (he finds it funny now, being a part of something that will be bigger than his whole life). Saturn’s path through the district had been frenetic and empty. He was supposed to see growth over these last few years, was he not? Not just toward physical perfection, but to learn how to feel, to understand how not to fuck things up again and again.
Now, he thinks about the ones that mean nothing to him –
A night where he spent the better part of an hour in a bathroom stall with another boy, laughing as two bodies heady with cigarettes and teenagedom crashed together. The picturesque park with running trails and a brook that ran underneath a wooden planked bridge: he had snuck there early one morning for a chance to be with a boy that had caught his eye, to show him what he had learned, how he understood what it meant to be pleasing, if the two of them could just watch the sunrise together. Images of the others mix together when the train starts to pull away, Saturn seated in a car that looked similar to his father’s study, with desks and chairs, and leather bound tomes.
He places his head atop his hands and feels the cool of the oak table, trying to block the last –
Forgotten. He thinks about a night that shouldn’t be a part of him, pieces stitched together through stories and flashes of memory. Of weakness and regret – he hated that the two fit so neatly together – that dragged him through something so painful. He remembers thinking that it was easy enough to discount because of how young he was, that no one would ever know, or wish to care. Saturn was strong enough, he could hear them saying, that nothing would ever break him. Except we forget that pain in life isn’t dealt with a single blow of a knife. It’s the same cut, driven across his body, remembered, until he knows that it will kill him.
Unless he separates himself, and learns not to feel the pain at all.
He stands from the padded leather chair and edges through the doors of the train along a maroon carpeted corridor. He imagines Myrcella and Justice are somewhere, perhaps the dining car, strategizing (or watching the rest of the reaping videos to take stock of what this year has wrought). Saturn contemplates the thought for a half-moment as the train trundles along, until a slight jostle from the train has him turn to face the door beside him. Etched in gold letters along the middle of the door with a frosted window reads Peridot Myler’s name.
Peridot had won the hunger games a year before he was born. He’d heard stories of his ruthlessness, but as a child so many had focused on Justice’s coronation, Peridot collectibles seemed dated and unappealing. The man had become a ghost to the district, and games coverage hadn’t seen so much as a comment from him in the greater part of a decade, if Saturn could recall. He’s a relic, his father had said, sort of stepped out of the spotlight and doesn’t seem to mean much to anyone anymore. They were watching some sort of district one games history, about the time Saturn had started to have his first crush (on Justice, of all people). When he looked at Peridot on the screen, there’d been too much sadness in his eyes.
He stares at the door for a good minute before bringing a hand to knock against the entrance.
“Peridot?” Saturn presses an ear against the glass to listen. He knocks again, a little harder. “You think I could talk to you for a minute?”
He sees a family without their eldest son but, they can go on. His siblings know better than to fall apart over a boy like Saturn. They will use their pain to create, to grow, and become whatever it was that had eluded their brother in life. He recognizes that the capitol has made a choice for someone that contributed little (he finds it funny now, being a part of something that will be bigger than his whole life). Saturn’s path through the district had been frenetic and empty. He was supposed to see growth over these last few years, was he not? Not just toward physical perfection, but to learn how to feel, to understand how not to fuck things up again and again.
Now, he thinks about the ones that mean nothing to him –
A night where he spent the better part of an hour in a bathroom stall with another boy, laughing as two bodies heady with cigarettes and teenagedom crashed together. The picturesque park with running trails and a brook that ran underneath a wooden planked bridge: he had snuck there early one morning for a chance to be with a boy that had caught his eye, to show him what he had learned, how he understood what it meant to be pleasing, if the two of them could just watch the sunrise together. Images of the others mix together when the train starts to pull away, Saturn seated in a car that looked similar to his father’s study, with desks and chairs, and leather bound tomes.
He places his head atop his hands and feels the cool of the oak table, trying to block the last –
Forgotten. He thinks about a night that shouldn’t be a part of him, pieces stitched together through stories and flashes of memory. Of weakness and regret – he hated that the two fit so neatly together – that dragged him through something so painful. He remembers thinking that it was easy enough to discount because of how young he was, that no one would ever know, or wish to care. Saturn was strong enough, he could hear them saying, that nothing would ever break him. Except we forget that pain in life isn’t dealt with a single blow of a knife. It’s the same cut, driven across his body, remembered, until he knows that it will kill him.
Unless he separates himself, and learns not to feel the pain at all.
He stands from the padded leather chair and edges through the doors of the train along a maroon carpeted corridor. He imagines Myrcella and Justice are somewhere, perhaps the dining car, strategizing (or watching the rest of the reaping videos to take stock of what this year has wrought). Saturn contemplates the thought for a half-moment as the train trundles along, until a slight jostle from the train has him turn to face the door beside him. Etched in gold letters along the middle of the door with a frosted window reads Peridot Myler’s name.
Peridot had won the hunger games a year before he was born. He’d heard stories of his ruthlessness, but as a child so many had focused on Justice’s coronation, Peridot collectibles seemed dated and unappealing. The man had become a ghost to the district, and games coverage hadn’t seen so much as a comment from him in the greater part of a decade, if Saturn could recall. He’s a relic, his father had said, sort of stepped out of the spotlight and doesn’t seem to mean much to anyone anymore. They were watching some sort of district one games history, about the time Saturn had started to have his first crush (on Justice, of all people). When he looked at Peridot on the screen, there’d been too much sadness in his eyes.
He stares at the door for a good minute before bringing a hand to knock against the entrance.
“Peridot?” Saturn presses an ear against the glass to listen. He knocks again, a little harder. “You think I could talk to you for a minute?”
*Star & Moons, Dizzy
