#notelasts

❝  unfortunately, i'm the best you're going to get. no one better than me. ❞ he says, holding his arms out for dramatics. stepping in front of the super soldier; he doesn't conceal his arrogance. they might have had other options for the mission, but the god was effective; he could put an end to almost anything. the only issue with him ... he came at the cost of knowing whether or not he was playing for the correct side. he was liable to make a deal with the enemy team. though, they had figured with BUCKY at his side - he would know to behave.

" have some ! " annie was uncharacteristically BRIGHT , excited by the presence of processed sugar in such a cold , gray place . one of the plates is pushed in front of him . " if we'll have to go back to gruel tomorrow , at least tonight we'll sleep full . "

( * THE SUBSTANCE PROMPTS !

“go?” she’s picked at her bouquet until all of its wilted flowers litter the floor. dolores has done this countless times; her decaying bunch will replenish just in time for her next bout of anxiety. “where are we going?” it’s an entirely hypothetical question, as the bride doesn’t even slightly stir in her seat. her gaze and fingers are preoccupied with tearing the dried leaves off their dusty stems.

only a moment after asking her question, dolores answers it herself. or rather, she clarifies; “i’m not going anywhere …

her head whips around. really? that's the thing he's worried about when he was just bleeding all over the place and there was a literal bomb ( that he made!! ) and somehow he's alive and??? and??? the train of thoughts just keeps going. veronica's not sure if she's angry, relieved, happy, tired-- it's likely a combination of all four. she honestly thought she'd be angrier. maybe she will be when there's not this constant flow of static in her head.

abilene heard the sliding door to the cab of the train slip open , and for a moment she didn't bother to look back . district ten was one of the largest districts in panem , and often the trains needed to refuel before leaving the district to continue towards the capitol . she had been on this train every year since she was sixteen , sometimes even more often if she was called back to the capitol , and still she felt just as lost and alone as she did back then .

this was probably going to be the last time she saw home . abilene's breath caught on the knot in her throat and her stomach clenched . everything that she had done , everything that she allowed for the promise of safety . . . it had all been ripped out from under her in a moment . she'd escaped death in the arena once before by some sort of stupid luck and sponsor gifts . . . but who would sponsor a dead girl ?

her legs were pulled up to her chest and abilene sat on the bench that was built into the bay windows of the last cab . abilene rose a hand to her face and wiped away the wet spots the tears that clung to her lashes had left beneath her eyes . she pulled her eyes away from what would most likely be the last time she saw home to glance at who had slipped into the cab with her .

HOW TO BE EATEN: A NOVEL PROMPTS. / @notelasts

Instead of an answer: silence. It lasts for a heartbeat, one, two, but Camilla lets out a huff just before it can stretch into discomfort.

"Yeah, you're not. Nobody's special." A harsh response, but one she has lived the closest to, and the most objective as she can be. "But it doesn't mean you don't matter." There is always someone that keeps you in their thoughts: that is another truth the Sixth's cavalier has not only learned, but chosen to believe. Like Master Warden and her, the cared for and the caring forever bound to each other. Friends.

the gift comes as a surprise -- unexpected, yet appreciated. mama taught it to him at a young age, y'know : be grateful & appreciative of anythin' that is given to you, you like whatever it might be. it rings true, now, still. his eyes take in the work of the poor victim, how carved into they were, with missing chunks of flesh & meat taken from them. a sight to behold, a masterpiece to take in, his eyes drawing up & down the piece of work.

that is, before something was being held to him, catching his eye. ( i thought you'd like this. ) the words chime in his ears. his features soften & he smiles, crooked & sideways with teeth that bare forward, carefully taking hold of the item handed to him to give it a nice, proper look over. a chunk of skin -- the blood splatters & the blood embedded on the other side made it a beauty to behold.

the urge to eat it. the urge to not eat it. his eyes glance to jerome -- as though UNSURE if it was meant to be ate, as a preview of the meal, hoping to read the answer on jerome's face. NOTHING.

❛ ain't you a sweetheart, gettin' this all for me? ❜ johnny teases, in his own way, that accompanies with low, rumbling laughter. he holds up the patch of skin, his eyes drawing around it. it IS snack sized, after all. ❛ thank ya very kindly ... although, i ain't sure whether this is meant to be a snack or not, ❜ he opts to ask, carefully, folding the piece one way, opens it, folds it another. it moves nice. his head turns to look at the victim, brow raising.