zero o'clock // silk + sin

[lance]

It's no wonder you find yourself out in the hallways, wandering the empty corridors instead of tucked away in your bed this particular evening. You've always been a creature of the night, whether it's dancing and partying your way until dawn or quietly reading a book by the moonlight, and not even the strict routine of the Capitol can smooth that unique little wrinkle out of you so easily.

In fact, quite the opposite has occurred - it's become part of your routine, after the rest have gone to bed and the only living and breathing souls are the night shift workers and the insomniacs. On one night you'd explored the training center; on the next, the roof.

And tonight? Well, if others find wandering the endless hallways of each floor, noting the subtle differences in the otherwise identical and picturesque interior designs of Capitol architects droll and boring, well, they simply haven't found your own unique way of unwinding. Cause see, it isn't about the walk itself - it's allowing the mind to wander, the possibilities of the future and the sparks of the past blooming free from the confines of your skull for a few blissful minutes out of each day.

It's not until you reach the very last floor, the one marked by a shiny golden 12, that you find a discrepancy. Namely, in the form of a slight boy with his back turned to you, gazing out of the lone window at the very end of the hallway.

Interesting.

For while you'd ran into more than a few avoxes and one half-asleep trainer during your wanderings down to the training center, you'd found not a single soul during your journey up to and back from the roof, staff or otherwise. This boy was the first out of any of the other twenty three that'd shown an inkling of sharing your habits.

And for a moment, you consider leaving him there, traveling back down the stairs on the trek down to the rooms for One. But then you think of home - how sometimes, you'd find one of your of your siblings, take your book and read in their room instead of the quietness of your own, peaceful coexistence side by side.

And strangely, you feel nostalgic.

So it is your heart that leads you up next to the boy, just cautious enough as to not to startle him, before you take up a position to his left. A brief glance at his face - yes, this is, in fact, the District Twelve boy, and not some growth-stunted body double - with a hint of a grin, before you match your gaze to the shining city lights that sprawl out before you.

"Mind if I join you?" you ask, somewhat belatedly, given that you're already there. But you're not so inconsiderate as to stick true to the boldness of your actions - if the other boy doesn't want you there, there's no reason to bully him out of a place he was first - and with the simple question, you give him an easy out.

[gamemaker kelsier]

S I N .

When we all fall asleep, where do we go?

Sin had never needed much sleep. Eirlys used to call for him at any hour, night and day and he'd gotten used to just pockets of rest. Three hours here, two there and maybe sometimes 20 minutes with his eyes shut leaning against the hallway wall, letting a spot of sun carved out by a window warm him.

He'd always preferred the night to the day for the quiet it carried with it. There were no expectations on him, nobody staring, just him and Twelve's empty streets.

The training centre's hallways were the next best thing to that. The lighting was dimmed for the night, and the lights under the victor's doors were out. Sin thought it must be nice to sleep freely, without the knowledge that their deaths were coming in a few short days. He didn't think about what might happen if he were to win, he didn't see that for himself.

He knew that he was living out his last but it didn't bother him. A life like his was meant to end in tragedy. Eirlys had often told him not to become too attached to living, lest the idea of his death become bitter. So Sin had skirted the shades of it, always toeing the line in fear that he'd bring himself pain.

Sitting in the warm light of the night lights, Sin only felt strange contentment. The full-length window at the end of Twelve's hall gave a great view of the Capitol below. Sin had never seen so many lights before. It seemed to him that the vast city never slept. It was something he'd never even dreamed of, a cityscape lit up like the night sky. His only regret was that it was hard to see the stars as if the light from below polluted the sky until there only seemed to be a handful.

He preferred Twelve, the cold of the forest at night in the winter and so many stars above his head that he couldn't count them. A regret squirmed on his tongue, aching to be spoken but Sin held it close. There was nothing for him in Twelve, no one waiting for his return, no one mourning his exit.

It didn't hurt but it didn't feel good either.

Sin shoulder's tensed slightly, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He hadn't heard the ding of the elevator or the creak of a door opening, the slam of it shutting. Whoever was approaching was quiet, trained probably. Apparently, they did that in the higher districts. They practised on dummies there as if people weren't dying every single day in the slums nearby, as if there weren't people out there begging to be put out of their misery.

"Mind if I join you?"

The voice was higher, he registered it as female briefly and then crossed that thought out. Syd's voice was higher too but he was a man. Men could have high voices. When he turned his head away from the lights to look, Sin recognized Silk Le Roux, the District One, self-identified female.

Castor had taught him that when people asked him a question, it wasn't rhetorical. He was meant to respond, so he offered a single shake of his head before turning back to look out the window. Up and down meant yes, side to side meant no.

He just hoped she realized that he wasn't great company.