Cow Folk 2: Cow Again Tomorrow [d10 train]

[cameron]

COW FOLK 2: COW AGAIN TOMORROW
a d10 train blitz thread

It all made him want to throw up. The constant shaking, the loss of firm earth beneath him, the people and the talking and the moving. Everything about it was too much. He stood to the side of the train, where the escort let go of his arm after shoving him ahead like he was a man made of straw. He stood and let the vibrations overwhelm him, a jittering, caffeinated feeling that probably came from the cup of coffee he had in the justice building, or the second, or the third. But the unease that tightened his throat and turned his armpits into marshes was man-made, was a product of the giant, lumbering steel machine that disconnected him from the earth, something he’d never felt. Something he never thought he’d feel. Even in bed he felt the ground just below, its rumblings a constant and tireless reminder of life.

How symbolic, he thought, to have lost that reminder. Maybe he was made of straw after all. The others on the train remained on the opposite side, near the tables of food and drink. Headed to the Hunger Games and he was a scarecrow.

Exover resigned then to sniff out the buffet trays and grab whatever he wanted before returning to his side of the train. His nose twitched. Broccoli with, he couldn’t be for certain, but garlic goat cheese? A stuffed fish, with more seafood inside, no thanks. A basket of grilled potatoes, some corn, one giant fried turkey, and with one last inhalation Exover got a whiff of something more familiar: Emberstatt. The victor one, obviously, but that was the extent of his knowledge. Those games were years before he was born, but he learned enough of them through meals with Reggie. Reggie who led him to the stage when no one volunteered, Reggie who helped him dye all his socks the same color, Reggie who cared for him when not a soul else did. He owed it to her to talk to him, to break the silence he inspired in others. With a heavy sigh, he turned and took a few uncertain steps toward the 59th victor. “Hi, uh.” He pulled his collar with his pointer finger and swallowed. “We’ve had meat.”

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
You, it's you and me.

He'd said goodbye that morning to his sister the Mayor, his son who was himself a father, and Enzo Emberstatt, living proof that one could still be surprised in one's middle age. He took his seat with the Victors, relieved not to be at the microphone, and tried not to smirk too much as Regalia spread her sunshine far and wide.

Until she stepped away for the escort to draw the names. Then, all faces hardened. The names echoed, loud and unfamiliar. Mace let out a sigh. He turned to catch Regalia's gaze, to nod a little "we survived another" only to find tears rimming her brown eyes.

Exover.

The memory of the name washed over him. Yes. He'd been at their home a few times - maybe more than a few, for all he knew. He reached for his sister as they exited the podium, but she was too fast, ducking into the Justice Building while he lagged behind. He'd only wanted to ask how close they were, if there was anything he should know. But he didn't get that chance.

And now he was staring at Exover over a plate full of garlic and mint lamb chops, wondering if he should be familiar or he should be foreign. "We've had meat."

Mace blinked his big grey eyes. "Ya mean we've met?" He put down the large fork and steak knife he'd been preparing to use. "I remember." Which, though technically true, felt like a lie. "Why don't you sit down? You can tell me about yourself."

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh


running up that hill
-placebo-

[dars]

Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]

[charlotte fel d11 [Tribsit]]

filler postt