oxford-dwittâ:
Ox opened his fist against the wall to press his fingertips into the texture. The roughness soothed him for a moment. He turned and pressed his back against the wall. Crossing his arms across his chest, he sized up the man in front of him again. D12 had a small, retreating figure and a slouch that betrayed his insecurity. Ox only recognized it because he had it himself.
âEveryone Reaped is the unluckiest in their family, as are most of those who volunteer.â Luck seemed to have nothing to do with the Games, though the odds were ever in their favor. It was a shame - D12â˛s family had almost made it through. Four brothers, and they had almost made it through.
Oxfordâs mind flashed back to the moment of Deltaâs Reaping - how small she had seemed on that stage. Ox probably hadnât - at his height, it was hard to look small anywhere. He silently regarded the man in front of him for a moment. His gaze was deep and sorrowful - and perhaps he stayed silent a bit too long.Â
âNo. My older sister was Reaped a few years back. Didnât last long. If I donât make it back, my parents will have lost half their children to the Games. Iâm one of four as well.â Another deep breath. Breath in, breath out. âWhat the hell are we supposed to do?â
the sound of his fist against the wall sliced though the air and made jules bite his lip - hard. he was too focused on the tribute in front of him to notice he had drawn blood, the bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. for a moment he tried to make himself bigger, straightening his back, and puffing out his chest. an attempt at intimidation, which obviously fell short. he quickly retreated back into himself. Â
âif they volunteer they bring it on themselves. some of these tributes live for this, you know that. everyone does.â the career districts were vicious beings. they volunteered to win the games, not participate. why anyone would be delusional enough to willingly put themselves through the games, is a mystery to jules. he listened carefully, taking in every melancholic word the man voiced. he looked every bit as defeated. truthfully, jules had no idea how to comfort him, he had never allowed anyone close enough to burden him in the likely chance that they were another lost to the games. he wished he could say he remembered the girl from district nine, but that would be a lie. too many were lost. she wasnât special.Â
âwe arenât supposed to do anything. weâll try, like every other tribute has before. weâll most likely die, unless luck is on your side and you happen to be the one that emerges victorious. just... make peace that your family will lose you too.â he shrugged, he was never good a sugarcoating the truth. âyou could... gain a few allies to help your chances. surely, youâve made a few friends here.â to use oxford would be cruel, but nonetheless a good idea.










