broken hearts of { gold } // silk & ridley
Feb 9, 2021 23:20:54 GMT -5
Post by Stare on Feb 9, 2021 23:20:54 GMT -5
There were a select few, Ridley had learned over the years, who truly thought there was glory in the Games.
They believed that blood could be washed right off the crown, that broken bones could be mended and lost limbs replaced. Her eyes flickered down briefly to the gold glint of her hand as she made her way through train cars, heartbeat and breathing both surprisingly steady given the fact that the reaping had unleashed a hurricane within her. Emmett had believed there was some sort of honor to be earned at the tip of a tribute's blade. So had Bell. But when the curtain was lifted and you were left with wounds gaping like gruesome scarlet grins, lies could only take you so far.
Death in the Games was not soft and beautiful, as much as the screens tried to make it so. It was not sighing final breaths through barely parted lips. It was not pale clean skin and ruby red rivulets. It was not whispers of peace. Death was angry and painful and ravaging. It was a girl who hadn't been ready to leave, a betrayed friend who hadn't lived long enough to forgive. It was a boy's clammy skin as hotstickydarksomething pooled out of what was left of his body. It was a warrior's shuddering denial when she tried to stand again and again and again before finally collapsing into the fear of what came after she couldn't fight anymore. If there was any justice in the world, Ridley's own death would be the most agonizing, the most horrific of them all.
She supposed she was lucky, then, that there wasn't any.
But there were worse things. Ridley felt that fact keenly when she finally found Silk and forced her mind to slow and steady as she approached, setting a steaming mug of chamomile in front of her. When she spoke her tone was as level as a knife's edge. "I wasted too much time on feelings last time." No need to clarify what last time was. "Better to jump right to the point. Do you want to win, or do you want it to be quick?"
And this, this was her punishment, the hell to pay for her own survival. Not going into the Arena once and dying, but going in over and over and over again to protect a family that would never love her back.
They believed that blood could be washed right off the crown, that broken bones could be mended and lost limbs replaced. Her eyes flickered down briefly to the gold glint of her hand as she made her way through train cars, heartbeat and breathing both surprisingly steady given the fact that the reaping had unleashed a hurricane within her. Emmett had believed there was some sort of honor to be earned at the tip of a tribute's blade. So had Bell. But when the curtain was lifted and you were left with wounds gaping like gruesome scarlet grins, lies could only take you so far.
Death in the Games was not soft and beautiful, as much as the screens tried to make it so. It was not sighing final breaths through barely parted lips. It was not pale clean skin and ruby red rivulets. It was not whispers of peace. Death was angry and painful and ravaging. It was a girl who hadn't been ready to leave, a betrayed friend who hadn't lived long enough to forgive. It was a boy's clammy skin as hotstickydarksomething pooled out of what was left of his body. It was a warrior's shuddering denial when she tried to stand again and again and again before finally collapsing into the fear of what came after she couldn't fight anymore. If there was any justice in the world, Ridley's own death would be the most agonizing, the most horrific of them all.
She supposed she was lucky, then, that there wasn't any.
But there were worse things. Ridley felt that fact keenly when she finally found Silk and forced her mind to slow and steady as she approached, setting a steaming mug of chamomile in front of her. When she spoke her tone was as level as a knife's edge. "I wasted too much time on feelings last time." No need to clarify what last time was. "Better to jump right to the point. Do you want to win, or do you want it to be quick?"
And this, this was her punishment, the hell to pay for her own survival. Not going into the Arena once and dying, but going in over and over and over again to protect a family that would never love her back.