alunsei lingau / tribute of the 74th hunger games / district eight / twenty. have you ever thought about taping your big mouth shut? 'cause i have, MANY times.
he doesn’t venture out to watch the parade once the tributes are on their way out , he has experienced it one too many times to care for it now . watches the tributes from his district prepare before he wanders off in search of a drink , a few winks offered to the prep team members he passes —— an empty gesture , but he enjoys their lingering gazes . makes him feel something pleasant for once . something with temporary meaning , like he matters . he’s back before the chariots return though , awaiting his tributes to give them the thumbs up and lead them back to their floor of the tribute center . alunsei is the first he sees though , and by the looks of her , she had the opposite of a good time . which , truthfully , was to be expected . so he chugs back his drink and sets it down on the floor , where it isn’t meant to be . “ why the long face , kid ? parade not meet your expectations ? ”
alunsei glances at the man. "i had none," she responds. "i'm sure you don't, either." despite the brusqueness of her sentences, a unique quality colors her face. it's gentleness, a kind of compassion she had to develop by necessity, having grown up with a family so drained that they acted like the cold factory machines panem wanted them to be. you don't have to pretend you care, the girl seemed to be wordlessly telling him. and i understand. breezily, she asks him a question, as though her untimely death weren't looming, and a man who ought to be a mentor figure weren't drinking himself stupid. “is your drink any good?”
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HOW FOOLISHLY SWEET , INCREDIBLY NAIVE & ALMOST self centered . it isn’t advice given to help , nero wants one thing from the games - she craves a good show , nothing more , nothing less . ❝ & here i was thinking you were a SMART one . ❞ she hums , fingers running against lace sleeves , a huff of a laugh falls from her lips . ❝ do you think i’m trying to help you win ? be honest , alunsei . ❞
“you can think whatever you want of me,” sei candidly replies. she slips back into her preferred state of silence when the victor continues to speak. “you want me to be honest? well, i think you just need a real hobby, nero. then again, so does everybody else in the capitol. i guess that’s how you know that you’ve made it.”
HER LIP CURLS , ALMOST UNTAMED BEFORE SHE remembers where she is . softness graces her features as arms cross at familiar naivety . tributes untrained have the most dangerous traits , hope & credulity – it makes it that much funner to see them cut down in the arena . ❝ you won’t be saving ANYBODY in the arena – this isn’t about playing your own hero , this is about winning . ❞
alunsei pulls her lips into a polite, tight smile. “you’re not my mentor, are you? who are you to tell me what it’s about for me?” she exerts effort into not spewing out her scathing thoughts about the victor. instead, she provides veiled contempt. “wouldn’t it be a bigger triumph for you anyway if i lost? or are you so blended with the capitol these days that your heart’s no longer with your district?”
“no, the clothes suit you.” he stepped closer to her and leaned in. “it’s a shame you won’t be able to get used to this.” he gestured into the empty space around them. he knew he wouldn’t be getting used to the capitol either. the minute he steps into the games, he would never be stepping out. but alunsei volunteered, and he couldn’t show any hint of weakness around her, that he knew. “maybe they’ll send something nice home to your family to express their condolences.”
chills crept up sei’s skin when he leaned towards her. when she did this, it was out of genuine curiosity. but she couldn’t help feeling that this gesture, coming from this guy, was laced with aggression. she shifted, though she didn’t want him to know or think it was because of unease. she forced a small laugh from herself. “my family cares about me about as much as i care about you,” she said. leaning even closer than he had, she whispered into his ear, “i don’t give a damn about you. fuck off.” beaming, she pulled away and sent him a flying kiss, knowing that other people were eyeing them.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐘 . . . horrible . the suffocating costumes endeavoured their very best to constrict her airways and limit the movement of her lungs – she’s honestly not even sure whether she let out a single breath during the whole thing . not the mention the hairstyle that seemed to claw on her scalp and compress into her skull made it of most difficulty to fabricate any sort of thought besides those of fear , dread and anxiety . it was even worse when the damned thing started moving , she felt nauseous , completely aware of the churning in her stomachs and the high probability of spilling out her dinner . but it was all over now thankfully , and it was just a little bit easier to breathe . having hated being inSILENCE for the past – whatever long the parade was – she immediately took the closest person to her and began her provocations , ❛ i’m not gonna lie , i really like that look of yours . ❜ she makes a gesture towards the other’s face . ❛ kind of broody – kind of angsty . you must be a victor . are you ? i think you are . i don’t remember your games though . ❜
startled by the blonde’s statement, alunsei was left with scarcely any choice but to gape at her with her wide eyes. “i’m not,” she murmured tersely. “i’m not a victor,” she elaborated. being a victor implied that sei had presence, some dignity, some impact. she found the idea bizarre. she always considered herself to be an insubstantial being, as far as others would be concerned. was she taunting her?
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jules found himself looking over at the the small girl dressed in what he could only describe as a curtain-like garment. sensing her discomfort, he couldn’t help but approach. he figured if he could maximise her discomfort, it would only benefit him. “what’s wrong, district eight? clothes aren’t to your liking? or is it the company?” he crossed his arms casually, and tilted his head as he looked at her. “careful what you wish for, right?” he looked around, taking in the foreign environment, the unfamiliar people. they were both a long way from home.
she didn’t have to think hard about it. the company. but he wouldn’t give this guy the satisfaction. “the clothes,” she answered, with the dullest inflection she could manage and a wry hint of a smile. sei didn’t volunteer for these games to kill, per se, but he sure made the prospect of getting her hands bloody a little appealing. she wanted to tell him in plain terms to shut the fuck up. instead, she sealed her lips, actively avoiding facing this nuisance.
QUIET IS SOMETHING THAT’S NEVER BEEN USED to describe her . nero is unforgettable , words are her trademark ; her signature move , signed with cherry lips as she waves goodbye to citizens & victors . their heads spin as they leave , sinner’s hands clasping together while she turns her head – a tribute sat in the corner like a saddened child . a GIGGLE flings forth from her lips , elegance in her walk while she approaches – her heels echo tantalizingly , the call of the devil . ❝ little tip . ❞ she says , voice her usual lilt as she comes to a stop . ❝ sponsors like tributes that put themselves out there . if NOBODY knows your name , little goddess , nobody cares if you die . ❞
a sardonic chuckle escapes alunsei. the need or ability to make other people care about feels just too foreign for her to even contemplate taking the blonde’s advice. (and for the record, she doesn’t care about whether or not she dies.) the other girl may not comprehend it, but this is one of her greatest strengths. nothing anyone could say or do to her in capitol could faze her, though she often grumbled. “i know they won’t save me,” she replies, soft but steely. “if anyone will save me in the arena, it will be myself.”
pressing his lips together, caspian nods his head. maybe in a DIFFERENT setting he wouldn’t give in so easily, but he’s always had his heart out for the tributes. “hmm, yeah. was trying to block out that part as much as possible. not really something i’d like to share with the class or myself.”
sei takes another pause to consider him. “why are you still talking to me?” she asks, leaning forward to interrogate him. this sensation, it’s unfamiliar. if she had the language for it, she would probably identify it as pity. but alas, no one has ever pitied her, even when the citizens of district 8 each had a litany of reasons to pity themselves.
caspian’s not the best with situations like this — wasn’t sure how to comfort his brother, his best friends, and now his sister. he figures it’s a little COMPLICATED too that these are the people going against his sister and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it. well, caspian can always cause a scene, but he’s positive that might have the opposite effect than working. “i think that glare of yours should be a WEAPON of choice.” is the first thing he says to the other, holding back a cringe his face wanted to express. “sorry. that was real stupid shit to say. maybe i should shut my mouth now, yeah?”
alunsei glimpses at the source of the voice briefly, blankly. she averts her eyes once more. in her soft tones, she tells him, “yes. i think you should do that, too.” she lets her curtness hang in the air. “you’re aware that i may kill your sister soon, are you?”
it hasn’t been long since sei hopped off her chariot. yet sei’s long, jet black locks, which had been forcibly styled in place with copious hair products, are back to looking the way they usually do. which is to say, like a stringy curtain. the face of the young woman behind it appears reminiscent of a ghost, though her skin has a natural brown gleam. she does not speak, simply glaring at the others. she’s obviously uncomfortable in her clothes that day, and one could easily perceive the intense dislike she had for other people.
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[ GILLIAN VICENCIO, FEMALE, SHE/HER. ] introducing alunsei lingau, TRIBUTE of the 74th year hunger games, representing district 8. my sources say that they are twenty years old, & that they’re pretty handy with eidetic memory. wonder if that will do her any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them, because they remind everyone of doe eyes on a tiny girl, an innocent face suddenly bearing a dangerous smirk, petite legs hanging from a tree trunk, tan hands poring over the pages of smuggled tomes.
Alunsei’s name is a corruption of an ancient goddess’. Her name was Alunsina, a goddess of sun and sky worshipped by people they called Visayans, people they called Filipinos. She and her family, she thinks, are probably descended from these people. But in District 8, very few remember that. Very few know why so many citizens of District 8 have persistently golden-toned skin tones despite having little greenery and incentive to go out into the sun; where their usual selection of children’s names and district slang originate; why when they speak, there’s a melodic lilt that’s odd for a district known for its bleak, mechanical landscape. But she knows.
She knows that these Filipinos must’ve migrated here in hopes of finding better lives, only for the nation to take advantage of them. Only for the legacy of their exploited labor to endure in the form of District 8. She could never forget. Then again, she can’t forget anything she reads. Her mother tells her it’s not a prudent hobby to concern herself with scratches of ink on paper. It’s not like the girl would need them; she would just toil away at the textile factory, like the rest of them. All she needs are her hands. She never did grow into her relatives’ hand-me-down clothes. They were bigger and stronger, with more potential. All Sei has are her hands.
Well, she’s good at reading, but not so good at listening. Despite the scarcity of trees, Sei finds ways to teach herself how to climb. She runs and happily discovers she’s fast and agile. Soon enough, she’s at a Reaping, and someone stout gets picked. Someone sinewy, someone tall, someone more suited to the Games. A young woman so bookish and slight has no business volunteering for tribute. Yet she does.
PERSONALITY AND MISC.
She doesn’t like to speak. More than a few people have likely mistaken her for someone who can’t speak, but it’s simply her preference. She also tends to be irritated when others speak. (Song inspiration: “STFU!” by Rina Sawayama)
Sei’s obvious self-destructive tendencies aside, she isn’t a sad girl. She’s not happy, but she’s not sad either. She doesn’t have the energy to be enthused about any aspect of living in District 8, or anywhere in this hell hole, really. She would rather gamble her life in the games. There’s also the spark of rebellion within her, but like the rest of District 8, it’s often buried in a lack of real direction. If anyone’s going to start the rebellion, it’s probably not going to be a District 8 citizen.
She’s pansexual and could fall for anyone, but not very interested in romance (demi). If it happens, it happens, though.
