A World That We Design {WT}

[kap]

“It does not do
to dwell on dreams
and forget to live”

The Games inch closer and closer by the day, and they don't terrify Boo any less than they have in the past. As usual, they're scared. They don't want to face the reaping again, and they don't want that chance of having to face the Games, too. Unfortunately, the reaping is a fact of life, and for some, going into the Games is, too. Boo just hopes that they can live their life not having to deal with the latter of those two things.

How do they distract themselves from the reaping as it starts to creep up on them? Always having been the adventurous type, Boo decides that the best option is finding something new or fun to do to pass the time in a way that doesn't focus on the negative. Whether that be going off on their own to explore back alleys of the District or wandering about the District to people-watch, Boo is rather good at finding ways to keep occupied.

Always having been a social butterfly, Boo likes to have fun with other people around, too. They love spending time with friends, as well as turning strangers into friends. The latter of those two things would be what they tried to do today. As Boo left their home that morning, they brought with them a small backpack with various snacks and beverages in it. Perhaps if they offered food to whomever they encountered and tried to befriend, it would go over a bit better.

Boo meandered through the streets of Six. It was a Saturday morning, so there was no school today, giving them the day off, but some people still had to work, meaning that they were weaving through the small clusters of people that were headed to their jobs that morning. This morning, Boo was wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt with a red flannel shirt over it, unbuttoned with a pair of sunglasses in the breast pocket, a silver necklace chain with a shield-shaped pendant on it, and a brown hat that covered up some of their somewhat messy hair. Boo felt confident in themselves this morning, which wasn't always the case. Feeling good in what they were wearing certainly helped with this though.

Whenever Boo felt confident in themselves, it made it much easier for them to quickly befriend people. They were always up to being social, but when they weren't feeling very confident, it made it difficult for them to not say something that may be a little off-putting to the person they're speaking with. Luckily, with today's confidence, finding a friend to go on a little adventure with shouldn't be a problem. Standing tall and walking with purpose, Boo looked around at the people of the District as they walked, seeing who they could find that looked like a good adventure partner.

That was when Boo spotted someone; an individual with light brown skin and short, dark brown hair. To most people, this person likely would have just blended into the crowd. To Boo, however, they stood out in the best of ways. To Boo, they seemed like a potential friend, and therefore, Boo decided to approach them.

Boo tapped on their shoulder.

"Hey stranger," Boo started. "Want to go on a little adventure with me? It could be fun."

quote by: J.K. Rowling (character Albus Dumbledore)
thread title inspired by: "A Million Dreams" from the Greatest Showman
WT

[WT]

Weekends tug at you, even now. At first you didn't take them at all, and told yourself that rent, not stillness, scared you—an easy enough lie especially in the early days, when you still barely understood the miasma of new expectations and hadn't learned to budget for the days you spent curled up inside no matter how hard you tried to leave. You know yourself better now and value the structure that a few deliberate days off gives your weeks; all the same, sometimes ghosts still dog your heels for daring to take time for yourself.

So you do what always helps: you find people. You drift from your favorite patch of garden to the Square and out the other side, not bothering to try to filter the snippets of conversation around you—hear about Palmiro? / due this week but it's fine I've / you carry this for / too hot already what are we going to / with me kids—until the rising hum of morning activity blurs into exactly that: one long, steady hum of reassurance. Here and there you offer someone a nod or a fleeting smile, but as much as you can, you leave the strangers around you to their worlds; trying to insert yourself anywhere would defeat the purpose.

You're not, then, altogether prepared for someone else to defeat it for you.

Careless, you scold yourself as you jump and turn toward the tap on your shoulder, one arm reflexively twitching upward to fend off another touch—but the brightly dressed stranger now in front of you tries nothing of the sort. You still the motion and take careful stock: heart racing, yes, but neither of you injured, and all of your senses present if rattled. Your not-attacker is taller than you but doesn't loom, their stance shifted subtly to account for the backpack they carry.

Somewhere in that moment they start speaking, and you wrench your focus back into place, your brain catching up a beat after your ears: "Hey stranger." (Accurate.) "Want to go on a little adventure with me?" (What?) "It could be fun."

Hard to make a judgment call on that last one, when you have no idea what they mean.

"Adventure," you murmur to give yourself a second to process. As far as you're given to understand the idea, you've had more adventure in your life than you ever looked for, and nearly more than you could have survived—several District border crossings' worth, the kind that etched footsteps and razor wire into your dreams. But for the handful of moments you manage to hold their gaze this stranger's eyes are calm and bright, and they're roughly your age, not too young to be dangerous but far too young to be any of the people you're running from. Ran from. (Will always, somewhere in the corners of your mind that you don't know how to scrub clean, be running from.)

"No one gets hurt," you say, aiming for a question and stumbling when it comes out flat and unamused. "If—I mean, if we're not hurting anyone, yes. Sure."

[kap]

“It does not do
to dwell on dreams
and forget to live”

Although the reaping had been a thought in their mind this morning before they headed out the door to find a distraction, Boo no longer had it in their mind as the stranger they had approached jumped and put up an arm as if to defend themselves when Boo had tapped on their shoulder just a moment before. Boo felt bad for making them jump, as they had never had the intention of hurting or scaring anyone. Unfortunately, it happened anyway.

Regardless, the focus of the individual seems to return to the harmless situation at hand, rather than one of fear, as they hear Boo speak to them. The idea of an adventure was something that, when unexplained, could easily be mysterious and either intriguing or perhaps even something that causes a bit of worry to the person who hears of it.

"Adventure," the stranger says in a low tone, clearly making an attempt to figure out just what exactly Boo meant by this. It takes a moment or two before they speak again, but Boo waits patiently.

"No one gets hurt," they now decide to continue, their words almost a little bit offensive to Boo, as if they'd ever imagine wanting to end up hurting anyone. Then again, they were still strangers, so they supposed it was reasonable to make sure no one was getting hurt. It's likely that Boo would have done the same.

"If—I mean, if we're not hurting anyone, yes. Sure." The person Boo had decided to go up to had actually agreed upon an adventure, turning this stranger into a new adventure companion. A wide smile appeared upon Boo's face, their excitement showing through in the expression that was now being displayed to the other person.

"No one gets hurt, I promise," Boo assured their new adventure companion. "This is awesome! This'll be fun!"

Then, Boo realized, they should probably explain what exactly this adventure was going to be.

"Oh, right! I suppose I should explain what we're going to do," Boo began. "Wait, I should probably introduce myself, too! I'm Boo!" There's plenty of enthusiasm in Boo's voice as they then proceed to jump into explaining what they want to do.

Not having entirely thought through the adventure to the last detail, Boo decided to just give the information that they'd come up with so far, and relay that to their new adventure companion- could they call them a friend yet? Boo liked to think of them as a new friend, too. Friends were always good to have, and having friends made Boo quite happy, especially when they were friends who were willing to go on adventures with them, like this new person in their life was.

"So," Boo started. "I was thinking that we could go through some of the back alleys of the District- being careful, of course- and see what we can find! The last time I went back there, I came across a stray kitten that I helped out. She's doing great now! I took her home and her name is Penny!"

Boo paused for a moment, still clearly beaming with excitement.

"What do you say?" they asked. "Does that sound like fun to you?"

quote by: J.K. Rowling (character Albus Dumbledore)
thread title inspired by: "A Million Dreams" from the Greatest Showman
WT
525 words

[WT]

The more the stranger—the more Boo—talks, the more you feel your own shoulders relax, until you catch yourself returning a quieter echo of their beaming smile. Accidental first impressions aside, you think you like this person, or at least you could; they're as bright as their shirt, all cheer and openness, and easy to listen to. They don't make you guess what they mean, and they chat enough that neither of you has to flounder in silence at any point, even though you only manage to muster a rote if genuine "Nice to meet you" in response to their name. As they describe back alleys and kittens you twist the end of one long sleeve between your fingertips, but casually—the way you do while you take in the instructions for a new job or study the day's offerings at the bakery, not the way you do when your brain won't quiet in the middle of the night.

"What do you say?" they finish, still giving you that open grin. "Does that sound like fun to you?"

You still don't feel comfortable making that judgment call. As far as you can tell, neither of you will know whether this will be fun until you do it; see what we can find could turn into just about anything. On the other hand, you'll never know unless you try, and spending time with Boo sounds—well, you didn't wake up prepared for conversation, but you haven't crashed and burned yet and you do like Boo, you've decided. They seem kind. They like cats.

"Cats are nice." You've found a certain affinity, bordering on wary but genuine affection, between strays. Taking one home sounds daunting—you couldn't begin to guess what a kitten needs; you would tell Boo you admired Penny's survival, if you could think of how to phrase that—but you used to make a habit of waiting by feral colonies until one or two cats curious or brave enough to investigate approached, just for the chance to pet them. Even now that you have walls around you, they feel like neighbors of sorts. Easier neighbors to understand, too, for all that you like humans in general and the sunny, unassuming young man who lives across the hall with his collection of plants in particular; cats want food, attention, or nothing to do with you at all, any of which you can happily accommodate—

None of this, even if you untangled yourself enough to say any of it, answers Boo's question. Alleys. Exploring. "Okay," you say, then hesitate for half a beat before adding, "I'm a courier. Sometimes." It's one of your more reliable jobs—someone always wants something delivered somewhere—as well as one of your favorites; the scheduling changes, but the instructions make sense, you have the speed, and it's simpler to talk to strangers when you know exactly what you're expected to say. Delivery from, message from, would you like to reply, no thank you they paid me on the other end—easy. "I don't know everywhere, but I know..." You wave the hand not still attached to its sleeve for another half-beat, until the word lands. "Shortcuts. If that helps." It occurs to you, abruptly and inconveniently, that you forgot to offer your own name when Boo introduced themself. Half of you tries to blurt it immediately, non sequitur notwithstanding; the other half swallows it with a vague hope that if you don't draw attention to it, Boo won't notice the mistake. You cover the quick intake of breath with, "Where do you want to go?"