the wild ones

The arena was moving, shifting under the tributes’ feet. It took Josiah every second of the countdown to register what was happening; they were on a boat, the boat was rocking, they were on water, and this was officially the worst arena. He was immediately sick to his stomach at the unpredictable rocking of the wooden ship and only when the gong sounded did he come to his senses and run towards the spoils in the middle.

seeing as there was nowhere to go and tributes were ducking behind boxes, debating jumping overboard and making a mad dash for the shore, josiah stood comfortably near the center mast. his eyes darted across the ship, watching as tributes continued to fight over - was that a toy parrot? - minute items that would prove utterly useless in the coming days and kept his eyes peeled for ingrid.

in the same moment that he caught sight of her, the ship hit the dock roughly. “you look like shit,” he said simply when ingrid got close enough. “and this place has been picked clean, think you can make it down?” he wanted off of this teetering wooden death trap as soon as possible - he had swam a few times with leon before but water was far from his comfort zone. throw a swaying boat into the mix and josiah was longing for solid ground.

@swntiwnt

Wilder looked at Josiah’s hands, trying to emulate the same grip on the sword. His teaching wasn’t the best, but how could he refuse? Maybe it could help somehow, plus he was beginning to lose patience with some of the trainers. They didn’t treat him with any respect and just like with Lark, that had ruined his mood. Josiah at least was being somewhat friendly with him. “I’m sure the chorus of yelling will start shortly, then.”

He smirked at his remark, stepping up to the dummy that was in front of them. With huff, Wilder swung the sword. It made a deep cut, but it slipped from his grasp at the end of his swing. “Fuck,” he muttered, quickly picking up the sword. “Why don’t you show me how to actually do it.”

surprisingly, the trainer had kept their mouth shout while josiah very poorly tried to teach the other tribute how to hold a sword. perhaps his own lack of skill in instruction would come to save him in the arena if he ever had to face wilder armed with any sort of close-combat weapon. unless the boy was magically talented at wielding an axe - who knew anymore?

josiah coughed out a laugh when the sword clattered to the ground. granted, josiah had learned from one of the best at the academy and when he let the sword slip from his own hands the first few times leon had responded with nothing short of a quiet-shattering laugh. pushing those thoughts away, josiah refocused on the situation he had gotten himself into. “where to start... first of all, only use your shoulder or your elbow when you’re swinging otherwise you’re going to throw it instead of actually hitting whatever it is you’re trying to.”

when ares called her and josiah over to the matts, ingrid let out a little huff of air. sparring with a victor was a lot more nerve-racking than doing the same with the trainers back home, or even the ones in this same training center. it made it even worse that this was their mentor, and ingrid felt the need to impress him. it was all very stressful really.

she nodded at his comment about private scores, but their skills should be top notch by now. “i’m sure our skills are on point. we’re amazing careers after all,” she said with a smile. it wasn’t meant to be cocky really, it was just a fact.

“for private training or for the arena?” she was now realizing both of them were very much up in the air. it wasn’t very comforting. looking over at josiah, ingrid raised her eyebrows. “i thought that was the trainers job, but i’m not really complaining either.”

@jxsiahx​

it seemed that at least two member’s of district two’s team had a knack for ordering tributes around - and expecting them to listen. josiah had half a mind to leave ingrid to deal with ares on her own, but after a look from her he decided that it might be more fun if they went over together anyway.

“i wouldn’t worry about our scores.” it was true, careers had a history of scoring near-top of the tribute pool. any outliers with scores approaching their own were quickly targeted and taken out in the arena anyway, it seemed that plan last year fell to the wayside when the pack imploded.

josiah waited for an answer to ingrid’s question - he was sure the two of them could quite hold their own in the arena. but if ares wanted to spar only to prove their point, then he was more than happy to do that. meeting ingrid’s gaze, josiah lifted one corner of his mouth at the idea of having it out with a victor. “we haven’t been sitting on our asses since getting here, if that’s what you think.”

@ares-carnahan​

It was tragic. Just tragic that he was interviewing Leon’s boyfriend a year after he had interviewed Leon. All he hoped that Josiah was as fun to interview as Leon was. He smiled, gesturing towards the crowd as their applause died down after Ingrid. “I’m sure that District Two will continue to inspire and entertain because we have the delightful Josiah Delisle coming on out right now!”

Caesar held out his hand for Josiah to take in a quick handshake before gesturing for the young man to take a seat. “It is very good to have you here Josiah, fantastic really! Now, we all know that you were the boyfriend of our late and lovely friend Leon de Castenheira.” Caesar took a moment of silence for the young man, gesturing for the audience to do the same. When the moment ended, Caesar’s head flicked right back to Josiah. “How does it feel to be in the same place he was?”

// @jxsiahx

josiah was far from the perfect candidate to present a polished, capitol-ready image of district two to the entirety of panem. there were plenty of other careers who practiced day in and day out to perfectly manipulate the air-headed members of panem’s elite - it seemed like district four had one of their very own this year. but josiah figured ingrid would have that side of things under control, and his patience had been tested since the first day he spent in the tribute tower.

anyone who knew him back in four was most likely left unsurprised when he refused caesar’s handshake and simply sat in the plush chair across from him - with the ankle of one leg resting comfortably on his other knee. he’d never really been able to sit normally it seems. and then caesar brought up the comment he had seen coming from a mile away that he counteracted with a look of what he hoped was easy stoicism. “sort-of-boyfriend, if we’re being specific.” the last thing josiah wanted was to spend his last night talking about his dead boyfriend in front of the entire nation. “its exactly what i expected. after all, its what we all prepare for.”

it was easy to ignore the clapback of a man so easily scorned. while there existed those that got their fix from being involved in and causing altercations, royce carter ix was not one of those people. he held up an open palm in the face of adversary – which in this case seemed to be taking the form of a light-skinned alcoholic – and took another sip of the toxic drink.

“you’re right. i’d be so lucky,” he began with a voiced riddled with the essence of blandness, “don’t take it to heart, dude. i didn’t mean anything by it.” his words seemed to fade away as ingrid’s overtook them. his eyes turned upwards at the sides and he smiled through another disgusting sip. she was funny. was it cruel, horrible irony that a girl that was probably going to decapitate him in the bloodbath was funny? “is it, though?” 

as the pair engaged in what royce could only assume was a bit of petty banter – they were district partners, after all; it was very possible they were friends long before they met atop a rooftop to partake in a game of ‘screw my liver and kidneys – the boy from six allowed his gaze to fixate upon josiah. 

through the pounding headache and the vague sense of nausea that was threatening to tear his sense of balance away from him, royce managed to focus on the fact that he knew the boy. he wasn’t sure how, but his visage and name had settled in some far, deep place in his memory. it wasn’t until his eyebrow cocked upwards that the memory revealed itself as if a gravedigger had come a knockin’ with his handy dandy shovel. royce’s brain was the grave, and the plethora of information within it was only capable of being unearthed if given the right provocation. 

“oh,” he said absent-mindedly and mostly to himself,  “you’re that guy’s boyfriend. or, well, you were. that makes sense. also, i don’t expect you to share your bottle. i’m fortuitous enough to have one right here. and now if you’ll excu–”  he interrupted himself by raising the bottle and draining more of its contents, unaware of the danger he had just potentially raised amongst his new companion(s).

“it grows on you,” josiah responded matter-of-factly. his quick rush to anger had proven useful in a multitude of situations, people just tended to expect a smile and handshake to end what was much more thoroughly resolved with an exchange or follow through on a few threats.

josiah glanced at ingrid with a quirked eyebrow at her insinuation that he lacked control over himself, “we all have our ways of letting loose.” she wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of hearing those words spoken out loud - he doubted she’d ever let it go. 

and then royce carter the whatever the fuck opened his mouth again. in that moment, josiah really wished he had left something left in his bottle to try and pretend like this stranger who stumbled out of an elevator to ruin his night didn’t try and talk to him like he knew anything more about him than any other capitolite who watched that interview. 

with a white-knuckled grip on his empty bottle, actually trying to resist the urge to smash it against the concrete wall and use it as an impromptu weapon, josiah met the other tribute’s gaze. and decided in that moment that his big mouth would be what gets him killed in that arena. “and?” he wished his words had been easy and smooth, but they lacked that practiced response josiah had tried to manage whenever people inevitably brought up leon. he’d always been a good liar - but it seemed everyone had their limits. this kid obviously on death’s door wasn’t worth the time.

Josiah did not seem like the type that would be a good teacher. That much Wilder was certain, but he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and not at least watch someone who had training - whether it be for learning or for judging if he should stay away from Josiah in the Arena or not (for the most part Wilder had decided to stay away from tributes, but it was still good to know). 

Wilder quirked an eyebrow and moved his hand around the hilt, trying to copy the grip that Josiah was demonstrating. “Dude, this feels like I’m just holding an axe. That sounds like I’m doing something wrong.” He didn’t know if not holding it right was a huge misstep or just something the pretentious Career people cared about. He swung his sword, not feeling like anything was wrong. 

"you probably are,” josiah responded matter-of-factly. he had never once been put in charge of training or showing anyone how to just about anything in the academy. if he ever taught someone how to fight with just their fists it was more of demonstration by example than anything else. “just hold it however i am, they’ll yell at you if you’re doing horribly.” that’s how they handled learning back in the academy, at least.

josiah couldn’t believe he was actually trying, no matter how half-heartedly, to show an outlier how to use an actual weapon. he could hear a chorus of laughter and a familiar voice warning that it would come back to bit him in the ass. “try and swing it and if it goes flying, we’ll both know you fucked up.”

task 005 | do it for the vine

transcript - 

[ this is how i enter my house ] 

[ wassup fuckers! ]

[ other voice: why do you have my phone?! ]

“It think Six is still the train capitol, but we’ve got to get the lumber around somehow,” he explained to Josiah, even if he didn’t think that the guy in front of him actually cared. There was some sort of District loyalty to Wilder, just because he thought of the whole place as his home, even if there wasn’t a specific place he could point to. He liked the forests and the small towns. Maybe it wasn’t the most exciting, but what place was going to meet this guy’s expectations. 

Josiah wasn’t wrong, but Wilder didn’t think he would have held it like a knife - at least that’s what he told himself. Wilder had no idea what he would have done without Josiah here. He liked to think, he’d be able to handle a sword, if he could handle an axe like the few times he had been hired for tree felling. “I guess one-handed? Having a free hand could be good to have.” Wilder had no idea if his reasoning was right, but he did know that he did not want to be tied to one kind of attack if he was defending himself. 

josiah was surprised when wilder actually had a point. the young man really hadn’t thought too hard about how things worked in other districts; he barely knew enough about the products of his own district outside of tributes ripe for the title of victor. but, looks like trains weren’t as uncommon in other districts as he may have assumed. for the brief moment he actually thought about that fact.

“good choice,” josiah stated simply as the trainer took one of the one-handed weapons off of the rack and handed it to wilder. he was partial to one-handed weapons himself if he had to choose - they felt less restricting and even though he may have the strength for a heavier duty blade, one could be just as brash and brutal with one hand. at least, that’s what josiah told himself to get over the fact that he had never quite been graceful enough to wield a two-handed sword. 

he had also never actually taught anyone anything before, and it sounded like something that would be more challenging given he actually didn’t care too much. “well, for starters, i’d recommend holding it like this,” josiah said as he demonstrated at least something closely resembling the ‘proper’ grip he’d been shown in the academy.

he tilted his head at the strange blonde girl. the way she talked, walked – although this was just an assumption for he hadn’t seen her do much walking yet – and refused to balk at royce was quite interesting. in the same moment that she implied that hhe and the boy, josiah – wait…

where had he heard that name before?

well, regardless, he said to himself as he did a light shake of his head and took a step forward. in the same moment that she implied that he and josiah would be an item, he felt his chest start to rattle and shake under the weight of his exhaustion. “oh, um, no thank you. no offense, but you seem like a really, really, really aggressive soul. i don’t know if i can make peace with that kind of energy, y’know?”

he nodded at their names and let a toothless smile start to shine on his face. he could feel his eyelids dragging down and his joints echoing the same pain they had been screaming all day, but still he persisted. there was hope they would give him what he wanted, after all. “ingrid. josiah,”  again, his name flashed bright in his mind. god, where had he heard that before? “a pleasure. now, if you don’t mind…” 

he eagerly walked forward and delicately snatched the bottle from ingrid’s pale hands. he nodded sincerely at her and immediately took a big swig. royce regretted the decision almost instantly. he held the bottle out from his chest and stared at the label as he spat out the contents. t said something about… vodka? how could this stuff taste like such piss? he scanned it for a second or two more before shrugging and taking a long, slow inhale of the alcohol.

“boy germs? uh, that’s fine and all, but i don’t really subscribe to such limiting terms.” he said politely through a chuckle. he made eye-contact with josiah again as he took another small swig. the boy looked like he couldn’t wait to stab him with the underside of about six different kinds of knives. oh, well – that’s fine. he can’t do anything to me now.

“your look and your name is familiar to me, dude.”

josiah scoffed at ingrid’s proposal that royce was his type, “please.”. as much as he had tried to will it otherwise for his own sake, josiah hadn’t found much very interested over the past year - let alone an outlier tribute who had just stumbled out of an elevator in a too-big tank top. though he could admire the dedication when it came to the metal lining his ears. and then royce defended himself as though he was the one being insulted. “you’d be so lucky. but,” josiah pointed the top end of his bottle at the other tribute, “you’re very much not my type.”

and then josiah realized the alcohol had kicked in - not enough to leave him visibly drunk but he felt a hell of a lot more relaxed. though his definition of relaxed definitely presented differently thank most peoples’.

at the sight of royce spitting out the alcohol, josiah couldn’t help but laugh. despite the other boy’s initial distaste at the bottle he had been given, he did continue to drink. and as he also continued to stand their, josiah’s hope that he would walk away after getting what he had come for withered. and then ingrid spoke again, garnering another half-hearted glare from josiah. “remind me to show you how to have fun while we’re here.” god, he was glad that he hadn’t let the academy training get to him that much. she was fun and all, but the rule setting and following wasn’t exactly in josiah’s wheelhouse.

at royce’s next words, josiah cocked a brow and gripped the empty bottle in his hand tighter, wishing there was something left. because there were very few ways that royce could actually know about josiah, by name or look. “and how is that?” 

“Yeah, Seven,” Wilder confirmed. “It’s just trees and lumber yards, and little towns that are nestled in the middle of all of the forests. Trains connect them all along with a few logging roads. It is probably not as exciting as the Academies are.” Wilder didn’t expect the boy from Two to feel anything toward his District. He thought that his life was exciting enough and was almost at a place where he could feel safe and stable too. Maybe dial down the excitement a tad and amp up the happiness. 

“What do you expect from a guy that has never seen one of these in my life?” Wilder asked incredulously, steadying his hand from moving the sword. “I don’t think the stab is too far off, is it?” There was a bit of hardness in his tone now, a little bit of annoyance flaring at Josiah. He was a stupid guy from Seven, there wouldn’t be any way for him to know anything about this kind of thing. “If you know so much, why don’t you show me?”

“huh, i always thought six was the train capitol of panem.” the academy had tried to train their tributes at least a bit on the other districts, but it was often met with disinterest and complaints. so, josiah knew next to nothing about the other districts except their stereotypes and big exports. “well, trees, that sounds riveting.” two had its fair share of small forests nestled along the mountains - but josiah tended to stay near the center of the district and away from the more rural areas.

wilder’s response finally had a kick to it. “you got the stab right, sure, but if you try and hold it like a knife you’ll just hurt yourself in the process.” josiah really wasn’t a professional at using swords, he thought they were bulky and slow to get the job done. and you couldn’t exactly discreetly bring a sword wherever you went - it was easy to get caught weaponless. but he did know a bit more than the boy standing before him. he really shouldn’t be teaching the competition how to use a weapon, but josiah was nothing if not overconfident and truly didn’t believe that any quick lesson would give wilder enough of an advantage to use in the arena. 

“well, pick your poison: one-handed or two?”

“november lowell, but, um, call me ember,” he said, unclear if the boy was asking for his name or if he was just trying to be intimidating. if the latter was truly his goal, he was doing a great job.

the moment that josiah spoke again, his thoughts began to move a mile a minute. where was the punch aiming for? his chest. then why on earth would he duck? that was stupid, the other boy wanted him to look like an idiot, but by the time he came to that conclusion it was almost too late to dodge the punch, so he simultaneously ducked and leaned back, almost falling over in the process.

but at least he didn’t get hit. “that was a close one.”

well, he may not be large in stature but the boy was nimble. at least, enough to get by in a sparring match weighted in his favor. and as soon as ember - short for november for some reason - spoke again, josiah could almost hear a voice in his head (that he chose to label as ingrid but was definitely male) telling him to lighten up. he really did get soft over the past two years if he felt bad for trying to scare a kid.

“huh, i’ve seen worse.” josiah nodded curtly before pointing to the number two on his training uniform, “josiah.” and then he waited a few moments and gave in to the trainer who was probably about to wrap josiah’s hands without the tribute’s permission - a panicked, wild look in his eyes like he’d be punished if a tribute got hurt. 

so, josiah took the wraps and did it himself, turning to ember as he did so. “if you don’t want to snap your wrist, you may want to follow my lead.”

ember should have immediately recognized the other boy as a tribute, and yet it took a moment for him to place him. however, once he did he began to regret asking him to spar with him. however, if getting beat up now made him seem less threatening and taught him a thing or two that would be useful in the arena.

“hey, whenever you want to cash it in, you let me know. i keep my word,” he said, also refusing the hand wraps from the trainer because he thought that was what he was supposed to do. ember knew nothing about fighting except for how to curl up in a ball and take a punch, so he was a bit nervous to learn.

“um, yes, yes i want to learn,” he said, trying not to come across as nervous as he actually was and moving towards the mat.

“hard to let you know if i don’t know your name, don’t you think?” honestly, josiah would have no interest in learning anything about the other boy but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least get something out of the promise of a favor. for some reason, the other tribute seemed genuine in his promise and all josiah wanted to do was make him regret that. 

and once he saw him also turn down the hand wraps offered by the trainer, his lips raised in a smile.

“great, duck.” and then josiah threw a punch aiming for the center of the other boy’s chest - but purposefully slower than he usually would to give the boy a fighting chance to dodge it. but, if he ducked he’d most likely just get hit in the face instead.

Wilder chuckled, immensely amused by Josiah. Again, he found himself not irritated by his arrogance. To be fair, he probably did look better than Wilder did, even after all of the cleaning and styling his prep team had done to him the afternoon previous. “On my best day I’d still probably look worse than you on your worst,” he replied, pushing his hair back from his face. It was thick and he knew it would soon cause him to sweat as he tried to train in something.

Despite Josiah’s laid-back attitude, Wilder felt like he could turn something on and become a little bit more life-threatening. It was the casual flick of his wrist as the sword flew from one hand to the other. No matter, what he was best with - if it wasn’t swords, Wilder did not want to be on the opposite side of this particular tribute.

“Honestly, I’ve never thought about what people did at the Academies,” he countered, matter-of-factly, tilting his head to the side examining the rack of swords. He shook his head, only knowing the word from a few stories and from the few snippets of different Games he had watched over the years. His eyes flicked back to the one that he picked up, happy with the one he had chosen. “All I know about them is that they’re basically bigger knives. Stab, stab, you know?” He flourished the sword, pushing it forward from his torso into the empty space in front of him.

“glad we can agree on something,” josiah said simply. it was equally refreshing and boring to talk with someone who was so willing to, at least outwardly, accept the fact that josiah simply was better looking. argument, pushback, that was what he was used to. what gave his life at least a semblance of excitement; apparently outliers really were as pitiful as people made them out to be.

the fact that wilder didn’t spend time thinking about what went down in other districts first surprised josiah, and then he understood completely. because never once did he put any thought towards what happened in another district. until the girl won last year and he found himself really hoping that district three was known for their shoddy infrastructure - particularly the stage she was paraded across during her victory tour.

“well, i sure haven’t given thought to what happens in - seven?” josiah really wasn’t sure which district this boy was from. it was hard to know without a name like lumber brooks whether the other boy was actually from seven. the names these districts come up with - it never made sense. and then josiah watched as he picked up the sword. my god. “sure, bigger knives. definitely just go with that. if you want to last about a day in there.”

“can’t sleep! tried that already. thanks for the suggestion.” the suddenness (and quite frankly, the snappiness) went unnoticed by its speaker. so they don’t have anything. great. he could feel his skin beginning to crawl again at the prospect of having to spend a sleepless night wriggling around in his bed without anything to soothe his pain. a stray hand found its way to his chest and pawed at the rather ghastly scar that would haunt him forever. pain. pain. terrible pain.

“think carefully? wh–” was he being threatened? quick to jump to the defensive, royce pointed to the set of six, sterling steel hoops that adorned his ears. he realized far too slowly as his hands fell to their natural resting spot that salt and pepper over here thought he was–

“neat. i think we’re neat, dudes.” his voice – cracked and dry like the air that brushed against his nearly bare torso – was barely above a whisper. the sudden burst of energy he had spent earlier being an unconsciously sarcastic d*ck had cost him. he wasn’t used to this and he wanted nothing more than to be free of this prison (sobriety).

the mention of those skates brought a smile to his face, but it also brought pain to his feet, too. a tingling sensation ran from the soles of his feet up to his neck. it felt like an itch he couldn’t scratch, so royce did the best he could to relieve himself of the horrid feeling – he bounced slightly from one foot to the other.

“sorry? nah, i wanted to wear that. you guys didn’t like it? i thought it was really, really, really, really cool. i mean, it looked like a dream i had once. plus, it felt like i was flying, dude. it was so cool. i, uh, wow… is that alcohol you guys are drinking.” he paused, flinching as he realized that had already been established.

“of course it is. you already said it,” he said as he pointed towards the blonde. “i’m royce carter ix, by the way. can i have some?”

josiah really must attract people who take pleasure in calling him out on his bullshit - apparently that was a role ingrid was far too keen to take on. honestly, if anyone else had told him to stop or, god forbid, actually hit him chest he would have lashed out. but, apparently he had missed that dynamic more than he liked to admit - and then decided to chalk it up to not wanting to ruin whatever semblance of fun he was hoping to have tonight. 

“if anyone says the word neat one more time, i might actually lose my damn mind.” and then the roller-skate boy proceeded to do just that. draining what was left of the bottle that had sadly already been mostly empty when he picked it up, josiah had to truly hold himself back from smashing it against the concrete wall and using it as a makeshift weapon. after a rattle deep breath, josiah continued. “you’re right, they really don’t get a chance to breathe, huh?”

josiah truly and honestly couldn’t believe the boy in front of him - he’d spent plenty of time with people who dealt with their problems using drugs and alcohol (he had been heading down that path himself in the past year) but he really didn’t expect to see it in the capitol. “well, royce carter the whatever, i sure don’t have a problem with you getting back to whatever vice it is that has you so completely fucked up. but, she might,” josiah waved the empty bottle in ingrid’s direction, the two of them standing quite close on the rooftop since she decided to hit him in the chest.

@swntiwnt