smart or smartass? [charade/Amelia]

[k!ah]

Y U K I

He sits in the corner, quietly, his fork pushing his food around mindlessly as he watches the world move around him. People were often so self involved that they missed a lot of finer details in the lives that they were living. Frequently he would watch their eyes jump over details that could change the path that they had taken, that could open them up to new opportunities. If only people took the chance to stop, really stop, then maybe they would be able to see through their frosted glasses.

Stabbing a bean he watches the people around him. The cook behind the serving counter watches with a look of disgust as tributes file in, most taking large portions of the food on display. A typical Capitolite, nose turned up at those stationed beloved him. Eyes filled with annoyance as a tribute asked him a question. A short snappy response later and the tribute moves on, eyes blazing with anger. Vaguely he finds himself wandering how it might feel to be a citizen of the Capitol, not have to fear the upcoming reaping year after year.

Though, if he was being honest with himself, the reaping had not been the main fuel to his fear of death as of late. Each night he would go to bed unsure if he would wake again, unsure if another diary holder had found him, leaning over his bed with a blade to his throat, just moments before they ripped it open and he would find himself drowning on his own blood.

A sharp intake of breath and he realised that he had stabbed his plate too hard, causing it to crack under the pressure. Fuck. Sighing he places his fork down, eyes turned down to his plate as he tries to push the the fear that engulfed him down, as he tried to forget the paranoia that seemed to be something that he would not forget. As of right now he was safe, as for the next few days he did not have to worry about his possible death snooping around the corner. Unless he was to run into the odd ball female from Five. He might have issues then.

[charade]

A M E L I A

While she hated the suffocating oppression of her every move being watched by the people in charge, and knowing that within a week or two everyone in the cafeteria was going to be dying or dead, she could grudgingly admit that she loved the food. There was food she’d never heard of. Food that sounded fake. Food that looked fake but tasted real. Fuck if she could tell what was in a tiramisu, but god damn it was amazing. If she was going to die, she was going to at least make the most of the time she had left.

But not everyone was handling their impending fate with as much aplomb as she. Case in point, the boy that had just caused a cracking noise with his fork. Amelia rarely missed the small details. She couldn’t afford to back home. He was sitting alone at the table in the corner, off to her left. Trying not to be seen perhaps? Amelia hummed in her throat and got up taking her food over to him and plopping down on an empty seat at his table.

She tore the crispy coating off of her fried chicken breast with her teeth and stared thoughtfully at the beans rolling off of his damaged plate. “You should save that for the arena,” she said slurping noisily at her chocolate peppermint milkshake. “Plates can’t stab you back, people can.” But who was he? There were almost two dozen people to keep track of after all. One of the upper districts, she’d wager. If his hair was anything to go by.

“You from five? Three? I know you’re not one of the careers.” She set the glass down and picked up one the seasoned curly fries. Curly. Fries. The things they concocted in their kitchens. She bit into it and nodded her head in approval. Now if she could just figure out why the steak fries were called that when they didn’t contain any meat.

“I’m Amelia, from nine. You got a name, oh slayer of fine china?”

H A L E

kaitlin

[k!ah]

Y U K I

A shadow looms over him a moment before a tribute plops down before him, teeth tearing into a piece of chicken like a savage remarking on the way he stabbed his plate, reminding him to save it for the arena. Cold eyes move to meet hers as she noisily slurps at her shake, a minty smell wafting in his direction. “You from five? Three? I know you’re not one of the careers.” The comment causing him to raise his brows slightly. Not a career. He wanders what one must look like to be identified as a career by sight.

“I’m Amelia, from nine. You got a name, oh slayer of fine china?” Amelia. The twin who had volunteered for her sister. There was not many reaping that he had payed attention too, but this girl stepping forward for her sister had caught his interest. He wandered why she did it. Did Amelia feel like she had the upper edge over her sister? Was it simply jealousy that had caused her to step forward? Was it love? He thought back to Yuno and her desperate plea to be taken as tribute, her cries of the murders that she would commit in order to keep him safe.

Sighing he pushes her to the back of her mind, crossing his hands he rested his elbows on the counter before placing his chin on his knuckles. "You volunteered." He says simply, not a question, just a fact. "Eager to meet an early grave?" She didn't look like the type to be spontaneous, make impulsive decisions, especially when it came to her life. "It's fascinating, to meet someone who willing to throw their life away- and for what? Love?"

His name never leaves his lips, his careful eyes watching her reaction closely. She didn't look like the murdering type. Then again, he wandered if he did.

[charade]

A M E L I A

Amelia resisted the urge to rub her eyes in annoyance. Bad idea when her fingers were covered in barbecue sauce. Were all boys from other districts this irritating? He sounded like he was doing his best impression of Carbon Chem.

Condescending, overly intelligent. Did they all spend their free time reading the dictionary or something? She leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes and slowly but loudly chewing on a handful of curly fries. She knew big words too, didn’t mean she had to use them in every conversation.

Fascinating.

Was she something to be studied under a microscope? Was she that strange? After a moment’s reflection, she supposed she was. It was exceedingly rare for a sibling to volunteer for another. Most volunteers over the years had sold their lives for a stranger.

“Look out for your own,” she said between mouthfuls. It was a prison rule that had become a gang rule. If she an Audrey had ever sworn allegiance to a crew, they’d have been expected to treat any member of the gang the same way they treated each other. Ride or die.

One thing was clear though. She may have been smart compared to most of the people she interacted with back home, but here, things were on another level. Although intelligence, common sense and wisdom were all very, very different things.

“She’d have done the same for me. That’s how family works.” she said drily, finishing off the last of her fries. Amelia wiped greasy fingers on her pants and wondered why people were so cagey about their names, after all, said names would be plastered everywhere once the training scores were up. Would be said at the interviews. And were available to find out on every reaping re-run on the screens in their quarters.

“I’m not eager to die, I just had a choice to make. I chose her.”

H A L E

kaitlin

[k!ah]

Y U K I

“Look out for your own."

Look out for your own.

A frown pulls at his brows for a moment, his steely expression slipping for the briefest moment. Look out for your own. Complex emotions surge through him, envy and jealousy some of them. If only he had been able to do the same. If only that damn bitch hadn't held him down... then maybe, just maybe, he would still be that kind silent boy who had hope that his family would become whole once again. But life had thrown lemons at him, then squirted their acidic juice in his eyes, and it fucking burns.

She'd have done the same for me. Thats what Yuno never understood. She never understood how to love, blind to the destruction of her feelings. Her love was like an explosion. Intense and catastrophic.

"Not all families." Maybe his would have if he wasn't an only child. But he had watched many kids names called, desperate eyes seeking the crowd for a saviour who did not exist. Searching for friends and family whose love was so strong that they would give their life for them.

His expression of annoyance returns as he watches and listens to her bite down on some fries, oil coating her fingers. He wouldn't be surprised if she started wiping the grease on her pant leg instead of a napkin.

“I’m not eager to die," eyebrows raise, his hand idly gesturing around them, reminding her of the game she had decided to take part in. A survival game that likely ended with her body in a wooden coffin, her sister broken and sobbing over it. "I just had a choice to make. I chose her.”

"Well. I hope, for your sake, that you made the right choice." He looks down at the broken china, before eyes meet hers again, "this is a game of life and death." A game he had been playing for nearly two years.

"Have you committed murder before?"

[charade]

A M E L I A

For some reason, Amelia got the impression that he didn’t like his family. Maybe it was the way his face grew cold when she talked about her sister, like he was reliving something he never wanted to think about. Maybe it was the way his whole face seemed to frown at once. But more than anything, it was the way he said not all families in response to her. At least he wasn’t as verbose as some of the other tributes she’d encountered, though he was still as annoying. But he didn’t give his name. Only bluntly asking her if she’d ever killed someone. Amelia almost choked on her chicken. No, no she hadn’t. Well, technically—

Audrey had definitely killed people. Not that her competitors needed to know, but at last count, her sister was responsible for roughly five or six. They’d been in fights, mostly. There’d been a few times were smaller crews had hired the two of them as backup in case something went down with their rivals and there’d been a few times that Audrey had had to get her hands dirty. Then There was that guy from the Talons that made the mistake of grabbing her ass in front of Audrey and got stabbed. Audrey hadn’t even been aiming for anything vital, he’d just turned around at the wrong moment and gotten a knife in the liver.

The thing was, in at least half of those rumbles, Amelia had inflicted serious injuries on those people too. But Audrey had taken it upon herself to expedite their expiration, be the one to make the light leave their eyes. She’d never really understood why, not until Audrey had blurted out the answer in the justice building. Audrey had wanted her not to become a killer. It was a sobering thought. But Amelia had no qualms about getting her hands dirty. In district nine, you had to do what you had to do. Anything less than that was folly. It was no different here.

“And this conversation is over.” She said abruptly, getting up from the table and leaving her plate on one the carts the avoxes pushed around. You couldn’t just go around asking people questions like that.

Somehow she’d lost her appetite.

H A L E

kaitlin