Is there a Pill for That? (D2 Train thread)

[uwu]

Old memories that I suppressed for a reason rose up alongside the last meal I ate as I take my first steps back onto the train to the Capitol. I must have been a beautiful sight as I rush to the bathroom doing my best to hold everything in. I couldn't take any pills to help the pain, not that it would have helped. Somehow my stomach threw out three of my last meals and then some into the poor toilet, and my tears got rid of anything I drank in the past day. It must have sounded like I was dying from the outside, but at least it didn't feel that way.

After a few minutes of silently crying on the toilet, I wipe my mouth and clean up the toilet before I clean myself out. My bloodshot eyes stare blankly back at my, staring into my head that now has a soft thumping within it. Great way to introduce yourself to your new district partner Shy. Maybe next time you can throw up on her instead to make an even better impression. I turn on the faucet and toss water onto my face. Don't look like too much of a mess, will ya?

Memories of six years ago simmer up as fast as I push them down as I walk back out into the main compartment. Almost nothing has changed from the last time except for maybe a few new types of food that I didn't recognize from before, not that I wanted anything. My stomach threatened to throw anything that my mouth might send down, regardless of the state of matter it was in. Instead, my hands reach to the pill container in my pocket before remembering that it didn't magically refill between now and the reaping.

I slump down into a seat with a tad more cushion than I expected, sinking uncomfortably low into its grips. Yet, it didn't stop my left leg from bouncing up and down rapidly. I put pressure on it to make it stop only to have my right leg pick the activity up. For fucks sake. I'm not dealing with this bullshit. My body takes me to the window and sees the familiar green blurs rushing by as we race past. I think I might have even recognized a blob or two. The fun ended when the slight pounding in my head reminded me of its presence, getting louder. For ripred's sake out of all the days I run out... Maybe some water will help...

Chugging a glass of water did, in fact, did absolutely nothing. My headache still won't get the hint, but I at least I have some fuel for my future tears. Fuck, I wish I could sleep right now, but this goddamn train has shit furniture, which is complete bull. If they can give us nice shit in the Capitol, why can't they give us nice shit on the train? Or has it always been shit and I remember it being nice because I was 12? What fucking ever. Sitting down wasn't going to help me calm down but pacing wasn't much use either. I decided to compromise and do both at random intervals. I was aware of how annoying it might be to my fellow train mates, but at this point, why should I care? We're all going to die eventually. Let them be annoyed at me for all I care. I'm not their mom.

[𝓂𝒶𝒽𝑜𝓊𝒽𝑜🕊]

D O M I T I A .

when I'm far too gone, will you show me love?

When the shy stranger and I were escorted off stage, there was no purpose waiting by to say goodbye. Because I knew who would show up if I did. It wouldn’t be an Antoinette I had never met, because if she wanted to meet me there were far better ways than to wait until I was sent off for slaughter. If she were to come, she was no better than the Antoinette by our sides. But yet maybe this one wouldn’t be of much use anyway. If she were, after all, maybe there would have been more kids who returned home. It wouldn’t be any of the girls from Townsend either, since like all careers we know the risks and are prepared for death. I hadn’t seen Valentine since I carved up his face and we watched the sky die, which only left one.

The one that got away, the one that hid in shadows, and the one I spent nearly every day of the past months running from. My dreams sprinkled snowflakes across my cheeks, frost peppering my breath and scratched its way down my throat. Each dream varied in melody, as did their location and season, yet the tune was always the same. Because no matter if the cold rested under my thighs while chained around my wrist, if it licked my warm skin with frozen love letters, or if it threw me against cement walls, your tune never left my ears. I guess that’s what happens when you spend a year within a room built of just walls.

They say distance will soften any thoughts, as they stray further and further away. Yet your chorus didn’t slow as we were escorted away, nor did it hush while shuffling into the plush train cart corridors. Instead the only thing that interrupted the track wasn’t some heartfelt advice from our golden glory of District 2, who moved with an air couldn’t be bothered, but of the boy named Shy. He seemed brusk like the others, unsurprising since our district isn’t known for our charisma. Yet I surely didn’t expect our other half to have such a smell. Before I could introduce myself the paled boy had beeline to the bathroom, hogging it while disturbing sounds emanated from the hall. My nose and eyebrows crunched with disgust, side eyeing the victor as I motioned towards the bathroom.

You can’t be fucking serious. Was this what District 2 had been reduced to? As I sat on a jaded velvet couch and twisted a coiled lock disinterested, my eyes watched the pointillist painting pass by. The steel and depression of Two had slowly shifted into the warmth of One after the pregnant pause of sobbing and vomit ceased. The sliding door announced the shy boy’s unceremonious arrival, paired with it came an odor that wanted to make me gag. My eyes followed the musky tribute as he plopped down into a seat, his lack of posture enveloped in velvet. His legs vibrated as if trying to fend off the plush, yet it only caused him to further sink in. This kind of behavior would have gotten you chewed out at Townsend, or hell any regular academy. Maybe Cricket was right to stay silent and look away as did our escort, because this was just fucking embarrassing.

I motioned to speak yet the ravaged chugging of water sliding down his clammy skin and throat interrupted my thoughts. Leaning back with my arms crossed over my chest, with my legs crossed over one another, my leg kicked towards his direction. “Are you done being a mess for five minutes? We haven’t even gotten out of Two and you look like you’re fucking losing it.” My toffee eyes scanned his movements carefully, watching him with intent. In that moment I couldn’t look at the older boy as a threat, nor could I look at him like an ally. His expression seemed muddied with emotion that poured from his pores and had streaked his cheeks, looking smaller than a boy of his stature.

For a moment he reminded me of the distant memory laid with rime, that melted within heated waters in a large steel wash bin. The water then had bloomed in hues of sweat, bruised, and the same feverish view. But he hadn’t shrank within himself as did the god I had known. I couldn’t let my memories poison me, since there isn’t any use pitying a career. This was what we were built for, and if we were going to survive despite what the capitol says or the silence that emanated from Cricket. Abruptly standing up, my flats clicked against the carpet as I moved towards the back. My words were greeted by the succulent pop off the decanter’s top. “Couldn’t you at least stayed high long enough till we got to the Capitol?”

The clinks of cubes plopped into two cups. One floated with whiskey, and another of water, spare the few cubes that were knotted into a thickened napkin. Fingers pinched the glasses together as I strode back, tossing the knotted ice pack onto the boy’s lap. Sliding comfortably into the seat, I crossed my leg once more, pausing as I brought the glass to my plump lips. The bitter amber thawed my thoughts and kept my patience at bay. Abandoning the emptied glass towards my right, I then leaned over and offered the spare glass towards Shy. “Pull yourself together, you can’t let the others see you like this.”

elegant

[uwu]

Words. Words fly out of someone's mouth but my ears don't catch them. The vibrations scream out annoyance but who am I to care? My eyes dart over to her, catching her staring at me intently, but that doesn't slow down my pacing. She wasn't anything special, at least not from what I could tell during the reaping. She seemed like the usual tribute from two, so she probably has her shit figured out, but little does she know. Oh she's gonna have a fun time in the arena, isn't she?

“Couldn’t you at least stayed high long enough till we got to the Capitol?” I stop in my tracks, jaw clenched and fists made. My heart races as my temper catches up. Does she know? No, she can't know. She wasn't there when I got injured... was she? Was she one of the nurses? “Pull yourself together, you can’t let the others see you like this.”

My posture shoots up and I snap around to see her holding two cups of different liquids. "I can hold my shit together just fine when there are others to see, but there isn't anyone else around, is there?" I motion to the almost empty carriage. "What I do doesn't concern you. And if I had the option to get high, do you think I would choose to come here sober?" I sure as hell don't want to relive this all fucking over again.

I rub my temple and sigh. Whoever's drumming in my head decided it was a good time to play louder. This is fucking bullshit. Everything is bullshit. You shouldn't have exploded like that. It isn't her fault. "I'm sorry that I snapped. I don't want to be here. Quick word of advice: whatever you think the Games are like, they're wrong." I grab myself another cup of water, taking my time chugging it down with my other hand death gripping the bottle in my pocket again."Do you happen to know if there are any pain meds on this godforsaken train? My head's killing me, and water doesn't seem to be enough."

[𝓂𝒶𝒽𝑜𝓊𝒽𝑜🕊]

D O M I T I A .

when I'm far too gone, will you show me love?

Although District Two taught us to be heady and reckless, the dogma of it all has a wear on everyone’s faces. Some embrace the toxins of the smog, allowing it to traverse their blood streams and fuel their every thought and action, while others body’s naturally reject it; and for those who are allergic, they crumble. We all crumble eventually, some of us just expire sooner, all for Panem. The signs were all there for Shy. His body rejected the weight once his lips hovered over the toilet seat, they pushed away the thoughts as his leg hammered to keep them at bay. Or maybe you’ve had their allergy for some time. Your slimy skin and frantic eyes are more telling than you could imagine. You need to truly work on your guard, Shy. The arena won’t bend to careers, since Panem no longer fears us. And one thing the Capitol resents the most? Those who are allergic to their smog and serum, because to them they are the expendables. My father was when he no longer was useful, I was when I was orphaned, and now we both are on this train ride. Don’t you understand, Shy? If you step off this track, and they see the signs, you’re dead before the countdown anyway.

Yet your body twisted at my words, seemingly fighting still as if a stubborn steer too prideful to die. A coy smile overtook my lips as my eyes watched Shy’s neck tense up, a slight vein revealing itself as well as crinkles in the boy’s forehead. Fists clenched atop your lap as our eyes met once more. “What I do doesn’t concern you. And if I had the option to get high, do you think I’d choose to come here sober?” Although his words seemed feisty, they appeared more like a domesticated cat scratching at your leg. To anyone with sensitive skin, it would sting momentarily. But it is just a fluffy cat, you can’t fault him for acting out of instinct. Maybe this is something I can work with. Sure, some other lower, brutish districts were fine with killing their own, but I’d rather not stoop so low. District 2 has done a good enough job at smothering our own as is, and based on Cricket, we don’t need more of the likes of her any time soon.

My silence held up watching you sink within yourself further and further. I wanted to retort back, but my gut twisted as you soothed yourself. I’ve seen this film before, and it always ends the same, no matter what perspective you’ve viewed it from. I’ve washed the view in wash bins, found it wasted in snow, seen its production while shackled to a bed even in a room without windows, and at times I’ve even played the devil instead. “I’m sorry that I snapped. I don’t want to be here. Quick word of advice: whatever you think the Games are like, they’re wrong.” You moved past my offering, seemingly in a trance of your own, as if you’re viewing your own film. The chilled liquid slid past my tongue, diluting the warmth of before, while it seems you still haven’t learned how to drink water properly. “Do you happen to know if there are any pain meds on this godforsaken train? My head’s killing me, and water doesn’t seem to be enough.”

A hushed giggle was met with the clicking of both glasses now abandoned on the nearby stand. Who cares if they roll over and break, let us enjoy a bit of gluttony for our sake. “Shy,” my voice purred his name as I padded over towards the boy. Delicately, a finger trailed alongside his back, flicking off his moist dress shirt as his waist tampered. “You’re smarter than that, no need to hide. You won’t have to do the hiding from me anyways.” My fingers wrapped around a chair by the dining table, pulling one out for myself and scooting down briefly, to kick another astray for him too. Plucking a berry from a bowl nearby, my fingers admired the curvature of a blackberry before pressing it against my lips. “If you think it hurts now, it’ll get worse over the next few days.” The sweetness burst within my mouth as I chewed, swallowing gently before continuing. “Let it sweat out of your system now, just try to play it off as long as you can. But taking more won’t help, it’ll only make the worst hit you then.” My jaw now leaned leisurely, resting on the palm of my hand disinterestedly. “I’m not your enemy anyways, not just yet that is. Cricket and I can help you while we can.” Looking over his side, my eyes found the rot of the train, voice rising briefly as I referred to it. “It would go smoother that is, if our lovely MENTOR was useful for once in her miserable life.”

elegant

[uwu]

My hands open any doors they land themselves on and shut them close after I find nothing useful to my search. They have ALL THIS food and drinks but no fucking medication? What if someone's dying? This isn't safe. Then again nor is the Hunger Games, but they wouldn't want their precious tributes dying before they get into the spotlight would they? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This isn't a big deal. Don't make it a big deal. Calm your tits. You aren't going to die over this.

“You’re smarter than that, no need to hide. You won’t have to do the hiding from me anyways.” HOLY FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP! It's surprising how much my tongue can take and that I haven't bitten it off yet, and right now it should be sliding down my throat. "Let it sweat out of your system now, just try to play it off as long as you can. But taking more won’t help, it’ll only make the worst hit you then.” Everything screams out to mock her, but being the 'better person' I so clearly am, my tongue continues to bear the punishment I'm giving it. “I’m not your enemy anyways, not just yet that is. Cricket and I can help you while we can. It would go smoother that is, if our lovely MENTOR was useful for once in her miserable life.” She's got a point about not being enemies. I pick up my head and look around the room. Also we have a mentor?


"I told you I'm fine." I can survive long enough to pick up some more at the Capitol. They won't let their precious little 80th boy go without his 'meds.' ANd of course we're not enemies yet, but you might be soon if you don't stop being so nosey. "About our mentor, I kinda forgot we even had one. She wasn't really present last time I was here either." I don't blame her for not wanting to interact with who knows how many stuck up careers from 2. I definitely wouldn't want to do that. "Who needs a mentor anyways? They can't really do much in 3 days except motivate you." For your own demise. I reach for my cup that I had put down on the table during my search but instead of landing in my palm, I softly bitch slap it off the table. God fucking damnit, Shy, you clumsy bastard. Where the hell are the paper towels? Another hunt for a new item... fun.