24th Design [text/action]
Oct. 4th, 2011 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
threadthefirePeeta Mellark, Finnick Odair and Katniss Everdeen have returned to their home. They left with the rest of the guests. I apologize if this causes an inconvenience for anyone.
Angela, Ginny, Finnick left some things for you. As well as for a Mr. Eames and a Ms. Lucy Pevensie.
[After his trip to the Hall and with his message sent, Cinna returns to his office with a large bottle of alcohol. It's already started, and Cinna feels it in the bones and in his head. Under his skin and behind his eyes. He should go home, but he knows there's no one there for him anymore. An empty apartment. Better to stay at the office.
He holds the glass in his hand tightly, shaking at the realization that there's not hing he can do. His part is played. They've gone back to their fates and he can't protect them anymore. The children will fight and bleed and it will all be for what? For a game, for the entertainment of a corrupt government and a lazy, indulged populace.
The throws the glass against the wall, the shatter and crash replacing the scream he won't let himself give as he sinks into his chair.
With a swig from the bottle (who needs a glass anyway) he pulls out a new sketchpad and starts drawing. Sketch after sketch, a single uniform. The Mockingjay. His last hope, a symbol of revolution.]
Angela, Ginny, Finnick left some things for you. As well as for a Mr. Eames and a Ms. Lucy Pevensie.
[After his trip to the Hall and with his message sent, Cinna returns to his office with a large bottle of alcohol. It's already started, and Cinna feels it in the bones and in his head. Under his skin and behind his eyes. He should go home, but he knows there's no one there for him anymore. An empty apartment. Better to stay at the office.
He holds the glass in his hand tightly, shaking at the realization that there's not hing he can do. His part is played. They've gone back to their fates and he can't protect them anymore. The children will fight and bleed and it will all be for what? For a game, for the entertainment of a corrupt government and a lazy, indulged populace.
The throws the glass against the wall, the shatter and crash replacing the scream he won't let himself give as he sinks into his chair.
With a swig from the bottle (who needs a glass anyway) he pulls out a new sketchpad and starts drawing. Sketch after sketch, a single uniform. The Mockingjay. His last hope, a symbol of revolution.]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2011-10-05 12:54 am (UTC)text;
Date: 2011-10-05 12:56 am (UTC)text;
Date: 2011-10-05 12:58 am (UTC)[For some strange reason, Finnick Odair isn't someone she expected to say goodbye to. Or not say goodbye to, rather. She isn't even sure what to feel, now, but she can't—that's a lie, she can—imagine how Cinna must feel.]
Are you alright?
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Date: 2011-10-05 12:59 am (UTC)text;
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Date: 2011-10-05 12:57 am (UTC)Barely into the closed shop, she jumps at the sound of glass shattering into too many pieces. Oddly enough, she can tell the different between a drinking glass and a window. Been there, done that enough times to learn. Angela breathes deeply, though shakily, as she moves toward Cinna's office, pushing the door open quietly, not sure what she'll find behind the wood.]
they’re in the wrong place trying to make it right;
Date: 2011-10-05 01:03 am (UTC)I'm not fit company tonight.
they’re in the wrong place trying to make it right;
Date: 2011-10-05 01:08 am (UTC)I'm not here looking for company.
they’re in the wrong place trying to make it right;
Date: 2011-10-05 01:16 am (UTC)[He can't do this, not with her, not tonight. There's too much pain, too many things he's tempted to say. Her question would be simple, something like, "How are you?" But his answer is far too complicated.
He's terrible. The children he swore to look over have been sent to die in all likelihood. The friend he never knew he had will die with them. Everyone will die, even him and the truth is, he wishes he could just get on with it. If he's to die, he's tired of waiting.
And that's just the tip of the iceberg.]
they’re in the wrong place trying to make it right;
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Date: 2011-10-05 01:06 am (UTC)text;
Date: 2011-10-05 01:09 am (UTC)audio;
Date: 2011-10-05 02:06 am (UTC)Well, that'll do. How can I grab this hat from you?
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Date: 2011-10-05 02:09 am (UTC)audio;
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Date: 2011-10-05 03:05 am (UTC)text;
Date: 2011-10-05 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-05 04:01 am (UTC)I'm sorry, hullo. I'm Lucy.
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Date: 2011-10-06 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-06 03:25 am (UTC)Thank you.
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Date: 2011-10-06 03:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2011-10-05 05:45 am (UTC)Why is everyone -That sucks. I'm sorry.text
Date: 2011-10-06 01:57 am (UTC)text
Date: 2011-10-06 02:11 am (UTC)It just feels like a standard issue response at this point.You're the last one from your world, right?text
Date: 2011-10-06 02:17 am (UTC)text
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Date: 2011-10-05 08:47 pm (UTC)text;
Date: 2011-10-06 02:00 am (UTC)Re: text;
Date: 2011-10-06 03:24 am (UTC)text;
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