indulge

lighthearted may not have been the best way to describe royce carter ix’s situation, but laughing was all he could do to keep from crying, screaming, and slitting his throat.

he had seen demelza’s face -- that much didn’t really surprise him nor did it bother him -- before he had seen... his. when ember’s face appeared in the sky, royce let out an audible gasp. he couldn’t help it, really, nor did he try and suppress the shock. of course, that much shock is cheesy at that point, one would think. it wasn’t that he was shocked because he thought that his lover was indestructible, it was because he realized that he hadn’t given him a proper goodbye.

his thoughts remained occupied with thoughts of ember as the days came and went. even with the arrival of sponsor gifts aplenty -- one such gift caused him to momentarily regain his composure -- the boy remained in a daze reminiscent of the one he had been in when he arrived in the capitol. this one, however, was caused by three main ingredients: malnutrition, dehydration, and heartbreak.

oh, how the capitol must be lapping up the cheesiness of the situation.

─────    DAHLIA’S SMALL FRAME SMASHED AGAINST THE ROCK,  fighting for dominance,   trying to stretch her arms enough to pin him to the ground  & end this.    high pitched screams attempted to burst his eardrums  as she spat balls of saliva in his face until they were seperated.  had she done that?   she picked herself up of the ground,   the rocks leaving indents in her right hand as the knife handle created patterns in her left. 

she looked up just in time to see him charging towards her.

she had nowhere to step.    so close to the edge that she could feel the rocks below snapping at her like sharks.   as royce got closer a life flashed before her eyes  but it wasn’t her own.   it was her mothers.    crying over her dead daughter.   screaming as tears welled up in her eyes.  the same way dahlia had wanted to do when she heard those gunshots.  lost in  her thoughts, she stumbled.

the stumble was all it took to make her vulnerable as her legs crossed over each other  & her balance weakened.   the shove sent her to the ground.   not for long.   her frail body rolled as if it had caught a gust of wind.    she was falling.     slicing the air with the blade as she rolled down the side of the cliff  & …

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the moment she rolled over the side of the cliff, royce felt a scream hitch in his throat. her body seemed to spasm in slow motion as it clung to the shelf of rock before it ultimately fell. slackjawed and with eyes as red as the blood that currently adorned his face, royce sank to the ground and ignored the pain he felt as the rocks dug through his pants and into his knees. the last image of her -- a single eye peeking through a curtain of hair -- burned into his brain.

raising a single hand, he half expected to be overcome by the shakes. however, as he lifted up a hand covered in blood -- his blood? her blood? did it matter? -- an involuntary chuckle left his lips. he wasn’t shaking. in fact, he was as still as the moon in the sky. he looked up, letting the moonlight kiss his cheeks -- almost as if to say ‘it’s okay, dear, it’s all over.’  

slowly, but surely, he got to his feet and began an aimless trek back into the jungle. but before he could make that first real step, he felt the hair on his neck crawl. he looked back -- took in the silence of the atmosphere -- and realized with a start that he hadn’t heard a cannon. no, he thought to himself as his body took ahold and his feet guided him towards the edge of the cliff. it can’t be. she can’t possibly be--

when her head erupted from the precipice of defeat -- her eyes wide, hair matted, and face scrunched up in fury -- the scream that had previously been hitched in his throat erupted at full capacity. he didn’t even feel the knife plunge into his foot -- no, all he could do was scream in horror as he stared into the eyes of the girl from twelve. 

then, as if guided by the same moon that had smiled down at the pair of them only moments ago, royce reeled his other foot back and kicked the girl in the face with all of his mouth. he hadn’t said anything up until that point -- perhaps too dehydrated to even speak -- but a string of words revealed itself as his boot came into contact with her face.

─────    STUBBORN WAS DAHLIA’S MIDDLE NAME.    she embodied the word,  in every sense,  no matter what she was doing.    whether it was miniscule tasks or fighting an older boy on the side of a difficult cliff.  something in her nature prevented her from giving up.  

she felt the headbutt first,   a move she was used to initiating,    then the palm on her face pushed her away.    further evidence that this boy was stronger that dahlia.   she landed on her back beside him.   pushing herself up once again,   forbidding six to get the upper hand.  her head was throbbing.   double vision was slowly setting in.    she was a  little woman with a mission though.   she wasn’t finished yet.

she growled,   scraping her bare feet along the rocks like a bull.  she should run.  there was a voice in her head gnawing at her to do exactly that.    the wildness was taking over.   all that anger she’d kept beneath the surface was building.   her parents,   katniss.  royce would be a victim of that.   she wasn’t even sorry.   

charging at him wasn’t going to work. then the edge of the cliff caught her eye.   royce was edging towards it.    maybe he just needed a little encouragement.  she took a breath before letting out a fierce battle roar,    in the same way she’d shoved his district partner off the boat,    she held out her arms  & ran for him.

he just wanted her to stay down. his breath hitched in his throat as she got up again and unleashed a guttural sound that he had only known in his dreams. of course, the boy had been unable to sleep properly since arriving in the arena, but the rare instances where he was able to get a few moments of respite granted him a look into a world that existed in the ‘beyond.’ 

when he was forced to glimpse into that world, he was assaulted with a medley of colors, sights, and sounds that he was unfamiliar with. villages of children burned at the mercy of a bird coated in fire, madmen with staves of gold commanded orbs of color that rocketed into the sky, and women with clay-dolls sat and wept over the inanimate objects that they had created. and yet, with each accompanying celestial image, he encountered the screams.

and so, when that same scream entered the real world in the form of a twelve-year old girl, panic emerged and infiltrated all of royce’s senses. as she ran at him with hands outstretched, he replied with a scream of his own -- accompanied, of course, by the boy and girl falling into each other and rolling towards the edge of the cliff. 

─────     SHE WAS READY FOR A FIGHT.    she was ready for an apology.    dahlia was ready to do whatever she needed to do to see the next morning.     attacking misty had been a mistake that she hadn’t needed to make.   it couldn’t waited until the final two.    now here she was,    stranded on the top of a cliff with someone that  WASN’T misty.

yet,   she still recognised that figure from the blur that had attacked her on the boat.    she knew from the face of his district partner that she’d seen in the sky;   district six.    round two.

the force knocked her back,   a little closer to the cliff.   she heard some more rocks dislodge from below  & ducked out the way quickly.   perfect timing as the rock flew.    she attempted to tighten her grip on her knife but it was   g o n e,    a few feet away from her.   she had three choices:    flee,    go for her knife or go weaponless.    she was too smart for the latter & two proud for the first.   that left one.

the ground beneath her feet parted as she skidded towards the weapon.  once it was in her grasp,   she launched herself at the male.    dahlia may have been a few things but she wasn’t HELPLESS.    raising her fist,   she charged head first.    leaping off the ground as she closed the gap between them,   raising the knife  &  leaping on his chest.    she hoped the force would topple them over.    giving her the upper hand.    she was going to need it.

okay, he thought suddenly as the heathen of a girl barreled forward and toppled onto his chest, not so helpless after all. while she didn’t weigh that much, the force of her jump caused a cough to rupture forth and a gag to echo around the night sky. the air had been pushed from his lungs and his eyes bulged as he tilted his head forward and watched the moonlight glimmer against the side of her dagger. 

perhaps it was because the sight carried the emotional weight of a thousand broken heart, but royce felt himself slam his hands into the rocky ground and use whatever force he could muster to try and shove the girl off of him. the moment her entire body wasn’t sitting directly on his chest, the boy opened his mouth wide and sucked in as much as he could -- then, in the same movement, he slammed his head forward into hers. 

the feel of head butting against head was enough to make his world spin. at a later time, when his head wasn’t pounding and his body wasn’t shaking, he would wonder what had possessed him to act in such a way. but, that was a story for a different hour. at present, as the moon cast a wane smile upon the children dancing a death’s jig, royce only knew and thought about survival.

even if his survival meant a fragile little girl had to die.

moment’s after he smashed his head into hers, the boy took his bloodied palm and slammed it into her face, too. he pushed with all his might and propelled her tiny form onto the cragged surface. clinging to life, the boy rolled over -- grimacing as rocks of all sizes jutted into every inch of his body -- and stumbled as far away from her as possible. all he could think about was the moonlight reflecting off the blade. 

closed starter // *  @vxctxrx   ( royce carter )

─────    THE TRIP TO THIS SPOT WAS WORTH IT.     it had been a long one, spanning an entire day, that had practically taken everything out of the waterlogged dahlia,    but she’d just wanted to get the best look at the moon.   mission accomplished,    she thought to herself as she dangled her legs over the cliff edge she’d found overlooking the beautiful night sky.

truthfully,   she couldn’t be sure what the little moon on the back of her parents wedding photo had meant.   maybe one of them had drawn it on there before their deaths.   but there was a glimmer of hope in dahlia, for the first time since she heard those gunshots. 

her swinging legs dislodged a piece of rocks  & it fell to the ground below.  then she heard a sound.   something she thought was another rock.   however,    as she looked down ,    she saw nothing falling beneath her.    whipping her head round  &  crawling into a defensive position with her knife in her hand,     she growled.   she’d been followed,   so naturally,   she believed it to be the most likely suspect  coming back for revenge.

‘ misty? ’    she pushed herself onto her feet as she called out,  ‘ is that you? ’

his world had collapsed in an instant. he had been enveloped by delirium -- which ironically was the only thing keeping him running at this point -- as those otherworldly, boney hands appeared out of nowhere. the screams were still reverberating in his skull, and the sight of ember’s shocked face was still plastered in his mind’s eye. ember, he repeated to himself as he haphazardly pushed through the jungle -- suffering various nicks, cuts, and scratches as he ran through the foliage -- ember, where are you?

to him, he was moving as fast as he possibly could; but to the rest of panem, royce carter ix was moving at a glacier pace. the transition from day into night did not register, nor did he seem preoccupied by the fact that he had thrown up at least twice before bursting through the foliage into -- nothing? the starry night sky took him by surprise as he fell to the ground. the skin of his palms screamed in pain as they were met with rock. but, of course, pain was the last thing on his mind. at present, the only thing the boy could think about was water, water, water--

misty?

looking up, royce made eye-contact with the girl from twelve -- the girl with the teeth he thought were too big, right -- and suddenly his world collapsed again. he had seen her in the bloodbath. yes, those memories were coming back now. while she was small, she was wild. he had told demelza and ember stories of what he had seen. oh, ember, that’s right. he’s gone. i have to find him.

before his brain could fully process what was happening, royce’s body acted for him. toppling to his feet, the boy staggered forward, watched as she pulled out a knife, and then suddenly he darted forward. she had to die. she would kill him. he had to survive, get water, find ember, get water, find ember, get water, find ember--

well, he may have been terrified of him and his eleven kills, but that didn’t stop him being with him the moment his near-lifeless form was lifted out of that hellscape of an arena. the moment claudius templesmith’s voice boomed throughout all of panem, francis took off into a sprint towards wherever rafaele would be. it was his duty, it was his job, and it was... it was what he wanted.

as the hours passed and the doctors slipped away, francis remained by his side. although the bags under his eyes had become heavy, his body refused to move from its standing position. he stood there -- a plate of food next to him on the dresser and a gray balloon with a smiley-face drawn on it in permanent marker -- and waited for rafaele cipriani to arise. 

when his eyes opened, francis swallowed the fears that had gathered in his throat and did his best to turn his permanent frown into a smile. instead, the result was a look adjacent to that of constipation. “hey,” he began simply in a voice subtly caked with emotion “uh, you did it. congrats.” 

___________________________________

he sits up -- eyes bleary and heart wary -- and takes into consideration all that has happened up until this point. physically, there seems to be no end to the pain he feels when he shifts his neck to the side, stands up too fast, or tries to let darkness take him into the land of sleep. of the plagues, none is more severe than the hunger games, however. were he ripped from his world -- the false world that had, up until this point, been a safe haven -- in other circumstances, it is possible that a boy such as royce carter ix would have been able to ride out his consequences with peace and ease. 

as his gaze hovered over the sleeping forms of ember and demelza, the boy affirms to himself that such an outcome is no longer an option.

above him, the sky flickers with the intensity of a million and one fake stars. he knows them to be fake -- recognizes it, in fact, because he just knows that looking at them is not the same as the stars back home -- but still he allows himself to indulge in their beauty. what else is their to do? he’s thought about a medley of options and ways to conduct himself. 

1. he could drown demelza like he did to that boy with the red tufts. 

2. he could try to sleep, but fail.

3. he could reflect on how his life has been squandered and it is nobody’s fault but his own.

4. he could scream.

5. he could cry.

instead of doing any of these recurring ideas, he chooses to stare. most of his time spent awake at night is spent staring at the stars, of course, but a good chunk has been carved out to stare at the little things -- the parts of nature that had previously been unknown to him. the ants that cling to the trees just like they cling to the food they hope to bring home to their families. the bird calls that do more than just cause shivers to run down his spine -- he recognizes them as a valid form of communication that he is just too simple to understand.

yes, yes, the list of actualities that he goes through goes on and on... however, the most important thing is yet to come.

in those moments when the sun begins to burst forth from its night-time prison, the world glimmers and sparkles with promise. living in a world coated in smog, the color gray, and the screams of human beings, royce has been unable to experience such beauty until now. of course, it comes at a price, but at this point, he has come to accept the little things that he can reap from life while he still can. 

those little things add up, y’know, he often thinks to himself during the wee hours of the morning. as the dew falls and the grass sings in the wind, he thinks to himself and finds himself at the mercy of a new level of consciousness. but, then again, he begins to wonder as the light from the dawn emerges and bathes the inhabitants of this hellscape--

is this new way of experiencing life all bad?

“good morning, ember,” royce says as ember wakes up. he offers him a smile that hides the pain of one that has known too much -- and at the same time... too little.

so, no, it’s not all bad.

nayeli should have seen vivian’s retort coming from a mile away - her mother was far from demure and did anything but sit back and take a slight to her character. but, it was early and nayeli didn’t feel particularly like dealing with the decades of a past they both carried between them each and every day. she would have preferred to drink her water in peace, grab something quick to eat, and then make her way calmly down to the atrium of the tower. 

but that was not in the cards for her this morning. “thankfully, i have all of the lovely treatments the capitol has granted me access to.” it really did wonders for her skin, she never understood why some victors turned their nose up at capitol offers of the newest creams and oils. and so she ran through her own regimented to-do list for the mornings and pointedly ignored the mention of family.

and then vivian was correct again, much to nayeli’s chagrin. it was notable early and she really wouldn’t have been preparing to leave so soon if it hadn’t have been for the fact that she hadn’t been able to fall back asleep since her nightmare had awoken her. so instead she had spent the extra time letting the cold water of the shower run over her and covering the dark circles underneath her eyes. “i’ll continue standing, thank you. is there something you’d like to talk about or do you feel like halting my morning without a reason?”

she gripped her coffee mug just a little bit tighter -- it was all vivian could do to avoid slapping her hand against the table and lashing out in an emotional flurry. it wasn’t that nayeli had infuriated her -- please, the woman would think if asked if that had been the case, i’ve learnt to deal with my children from a young age and nayeli is no different -- it was that she had reminded her of all vivian had lost. nayeli had chosen a life of false promise, false prestige, and false living. she thought that she was living the high life, but in reality she was just another puppet on a set of long strings.

“and you look beautiful, darling -- you always have.” 

vivian had known nayeli for all of the latter’s life. as a result, it wasn’t hard for vivian to recognize the fact that something was wrong with nayeli. it was the way she held herself (slightly more crestfallen than her normal stork-like presence) and the weariness in her eyes. her eyes were normally beautiful and shined brightly -- but now they looked cloudy and weary. maybe she was overthinking -- which was entirely possible -- or maybe she was just desperate to find something to talk about that would get nayeli to stay for just a little longer. regardless, vivian still spoke with her usual gusto. 

“i just wanted to see how you’re doing, nayeli. there’s no need to be snappy -- i just want to make sure you’re doing well. ‘tis the season,” she said with a comical shrug and a small smile that was quickly snuffed out by the rim of her coffee mug, “for pain and merriment. which are you feeling?” 

dolefvl‌:

ember barely had a chance to respond to either person, because as soon as royce began to throw up, he once again went into overprotective lover mode, moving to hold his dreads out of his face and to rub his back while he did. “we need to find some water, and we need to find it fast,” he said, looking at both royce and demelza as he did.

although there was no formal announcement made or agreement between the three, it was clear to ember what was going to happen. he wasn’t going to let demelza wander off by herself, that wasn’t in is nature, so instead, the three would be working together as a group and that was that.

their first task was to find water, and luckily, that happened the next day. as they were wandering through the forest, they stumbled upon a clear body of water, something that seemed too good to be true, but after testing it, it was clear that the water was completely and totally safe to drink.

“this seems like a good place to stay near as long as we can,” he said, surveying the area for sounds of anything living, bird, tribute, or otherwise. // @oberoned​

Royce’s change of heart made Demelza’s blood boil. Her eyes narrowed in disappointment, and she gave him a look of contempt.  Wouldn’t it be all well and good for you to just, like, let me die here in this, dude? Royce’s inquiry while at the Tribute Tower’s pool instantly resurfaced in her mind. Of course, Demelza Oberon could have let him drown far before they reached the bloodbath, but fowl play wasn’t in her nature. Yet somehow he believed she had the gall to exterminate him and Ember only moments after being saved.

She planned to give Royce a piece of her mind, but the tribute began expelling vomit from his system. Her nose scrunched up in disgust, and she had some idea to stalk off and let Ember deal with it all. Perhaps Royce even deserved it, considering how he disrespected her character. Fortunately, all notions of letting him suffer were immediately abandoned for something far more characteristic of Demelza’s sickeningly sweet nature. So instead, she nodded in agreement with Ember, knowing his words meant an informal alliance.

And she could sure use some allies.

When the trio happened upon the lagoon, Demelza threw her hands up in relief, almost danced on the spot, and scampered toward the water’s edge. After confirming the safety of the water, she spoon-fed the liquid into her mouth then slowly washed away the sweat that clung to her arms. It felt heavenly to feel somewhat clean after four days.

“I think you’re right. We have water here to drink and wash up, plus some shade to keep cool.” She chirped in agreement, resisting the urge to splash around like a toddler. Instead, she ran her hands over the smooth water with a sigh. “Hopefully no one else has the same idea.” Ember did have a sword, if things became hairy. “Were either of you able to get containers for water? Just in case we’re forced to leave here.” // @vxctxrx​

many would think that something as simple as shame had no effect on royce carter ix. sure, he had become known in the capitol for being unpredictable -- hell, most of the capitolites had reveled in his ability to keep them on their toes. and, yes, sure, he might not have felt any shame about his parade antics, his private training exhibition, or his interview... but that was a different royce carter ix.

now that his mind was beginning to unravel, the boy from six couldn’t help but silently cry himself to sleep later that night. embarrassing himself in front of ember would have longstanding repercussions (well, as longstanding as it could possibly be), but the fact that he had done so in front of all of panem did not leave his thoughts. in fact, those demons stayed with him even when the trio had discovered the lake. 

Demelza Oberon never excelled at physical activity. She reasoned that exercise made her clammy, which affected her curls and skin. Consequently, she never paid attention to staying in shape. So as Demelza scampered away from the mutts, she screamed at a rather amplified level. She probably alerted other tributes to her whereabouts, but the she hardly cared, if it meant escaping the parrots. Her lungs burned and lactic acid built up inside her, yet she continued to push her legs further than she ever thought possible.

“I’m here! It’s going to be okay! I’m here! It’s going to be okay!” The birds repeated in unison until Demelza screamed in frustration. She tripped over additional roots and almost ran into trees, swatting furiously and praying the parrots would keep their distance. All the while her heart threatened to leap from her chest.

When she emerged from the thicket, she happened upon Ember and Royce and flailed her arms wildly. “Run away! They’re coming!” She warned incessantly, moving toward the duo as quickly as her little legs would let her. Frankly, Demelza thought it was a miracle the mutts hadn’t managed to peck her to pieces already.

The young woman ran past them for cover and breathed heavily to catch her breath with wide eyes. Still gasping for air, Demelza sighed in immense relief, when Ember wielded his sword to scare off the angry flock. She even flinched away from the injured mutt on the ground as if it would rise up again and continue its murderous pursuit. It also took all her strength not to double over and heave for oxygen. Instead, she looked at the boys with a rather grateful expression, as a slow smile spread across her features.

“Thank you, Ember.” She breathed, taking a few moments to calm herself down. “Considering you just save me from those angry birds, I’d say there’s a fat chance of that. I have no reason to kill either one of you.” Besides the obvious pageant to the death, of course, but Demelza had never been the violent type. // @vxctxrx

contrary to demelza’s reasoning, royce carter ix definitely had a reason to kill her. she was a threat -- even though she might not appear to be one. only one tribute would emerge alive from this, and he obviously wanted it to be him. if it couldn’t be him, then it would have to be ember. so, as the two district partners exchanged slight pleasantries, the boy from six found himself inching closer to his lover and his lover’s friend. 

his mind -- like his body -- was weak. unlike the state of his being when he was under the influence, a sober, recovering royce was susceptible to all sorts of fears, doubts, and inner turmoils. he could see ember offering up his and royce’s bodies for companionship, he could see them falling asleep, he could see demelza revealing a hidden blade and plunging it into their throats. the sweat that coated his forehead came to a point and a single drop of salty water fell from his nose. 

“how do we know? i-- like, how do we know you don’t have a reason to kill us?” he said quietly as he finally reached ember and placed an arm around him. he instantly felt warmth travel throughout that side of his body as he glared at demelza with cold, dilated pupils. “how do we know we can trust--”