districttenpeterxx

[districttenpeterxx]

"you hate liars, but you bleed for the capitol and their games. interesting dichotomy, don't you think?" the careers had nearly the same problem as the capitol, as far as pete was concerned. it was glory and honor, not striving to survive and clawing themselves out of misery and obscurity. everyone was fucking miserable in panem, but no one bothered to talk about it, or if they did, they got their tongues cut out of their heads for it. his eyebrow lifted, and he observed the career a little closer. his life was rigered and scheduled and decided for him, it would seem. "well, its never too late to try, in a room full of people who're obsessed with you. half the people in this room would be absolutely gagged to say they fucked a tribute, even more so if you end up walking out of that arena. start with kissing, though. a little less intense than jumping right into fucking."

"if you win these games, you better hope that my sister never hears you said that. she'll take you out on principle." he decided to graze over whatever personal issue satin seemed to have with his reflection. that was a level of psychology that peter couldn't begin to unwrap, nor did he really want to try at a party of all places. he watched the boy from one with interest, a smirk on his face, as he downed the drink and started choking immediately. a hand came up and slapped him lightly on the back, trying to help get the coughs out. "thats it, you're alright. it's gonna get a little fuzzy in a minute, but don't worry, that's normal." standing, peter stretched, feeling things pop as he grabbed satin's elbow and dragged him away from the table.

"you wanna have fun, career boy? let's dance. we can keep an eye out for the lusty louts of the capitol who might give you that first kiss you've been missing."

Satin's eyes glinted for a second, grinning, he felt stupid. Why was he acting like this? It wasn't like him, that was for sure. "Good, they'd better be. I don't like liars." He wet his lip a little, biting it next, "Hey who better to get personal with than someone you might die with? Besides not like there's anyone here who I would actually wanna talk to about it." Satin hung on Peter's words as he talked a little bit about his dating history, nodding his head, his eyes not leaving the boy from ten's lips. Leaning a little bit more into his seat when it was his turn to talk again. "I uhh.....I've never told anyone this, but uhhhh, I've never actually dated anyone.....my parents thought it'd be a distraction or something....I guess."

When he was asked if he had looked in the mirror before, he felt his eyes dart to the floor. Satin and Mirrors had never had a good relationship courtesy of his parents. "I uhhh don't like mirrors that much, my reflection, and I have a complicated history. Much like the banana, it's uh.... it's personal." Catching the drink when it was slid to him he listened to Peter, "Help me have fun then? Surely you wouldn't want me to go my whole time here without having a little fun before we're thrown into the arena." He laughed as he talked about his siblings, shrugging. "Dude, I doubt they even come close to being as hot as you. I think you're definitely entertaining though, in a good way....not in like the way these people look at us." He grimaced internally, he never called anyone dude or hot for that matter. But now his eyes fell to the drink, just the smell he could tell it was going to be a lot.

"Well here goes this." Throwing the drink back, Satin took Peter's advice and took a rather large swig of it, and god did it burn going down. Satin somehow felt it go down his entire throat and felt it still in his chest and stomach, dropping the glass, he was coughing, and practically threw himself out of his seat, almost doing a dance. "Holy fuck.....what the fuck was that." Shaking his head, his hands gripped the side of the table they were at using it for support. "Water.... water.....water please."

#peter.threads #peter+satin #satin001

[districttenpeterxx]

pete should have let him walk away. he had every intention of letting the huffy, uppity stylist walk away and storm off into the party, bitching and complaining to anyone who would listen about how awful his tribute was. but something in peter didn't like letting it sit there, stewing, and there was that itch again, anger and frustration crawling up his spine and making him move before his body and his mind had truly linked up with a plan.

his hand shot out, and he grabbed kolya by the wrist, using the leverage to twist him and press his back against the door before he could open it. "you don't like the kicked puppy act? how about the mannerless brute. he doing it for you?" his hand dropped kol's wrist, his arm lifted to rest against the wall above his head, boxing him in a little. he could almost hear the sirens in the back of his head, reminders that he was supposed to be toeing a very delicate line, but god damn if this stylist didn't have his temper up higher than he was willing to dig into.

"how does complacency feel, kolya? how does it feel not to have to worry about a god damn thing in your life?" he leaned in, which might have been a mistake, because kolya smelled good and that was distracting enough that, for a moment, peter lost the plot of his point. "i'm upset that some people get to live in fucking high rises while the rest of us sleep on mats on the floor so our grandmothers can have a mattress. i'm upset that people like you seem just fine with people like me going off to die for your fucking entertainment. i can't stand that i'm just a fucking footnote in your resume."

swallowing, peter felt his eyes starting to cloud over, to itch as a flush in his face warned him of impending emotion he wasn't sure he wanted this man to see in him. he blinked, to no effect, as he finally stepped back again, lifting his hands in surrender as he sniffed. "just go. i'm sorry, just... i won't spill anything else on my shirt." he reached up to scrub at his eyes and turned, bending to pick the shirt up from where it fell on the floor, shoulders hunched and curled in on himself. he was almost sure he wouldn't even make it to the games, now. the peacekeepers would drag him off before the night was over.

even with his back turned, kolya’s muscles tensed as his tribute began speaking, but he let him say his piece before responding. “you know what i find fascinating about this conversation?” kolya mused aloud, even though he knew he shouldn’t. “this whole kicked puppy thing you have going on, and the way you invalidate me for *my* concerns, however ridiculous you feel they are, while seeming to think i ought to be drowning you in pity for things that are so entirely out of my control it’s laughable. is it terrible you lived destitute and hungry? of course it is. but no amount of me patting your ass about it is going to fix any of it. you’re picking this bone with the wrong person. i control neither the weather nor the state of your home. and you can stuff your face all night, and enjoy every minute of it, without messing up your shirt. you have one chance to change the course of your life at this point, and of your families. so you can either give all that your best shot, or you can just cry about the injustice of it all instead. beyond that, i’m afraid that from what i can see you possess few options. but whatever it is that you’re really upset about,” kolya said, finally turning to face the man, “because i don’t think this is it, i think you’ve picked the wrong target for your angst. unless you really just can’t fucking stand that i care about my job, doing it well, and helping to ensure you look nice.” 

some of that was cold. he knew that. but objectively, he felt it was true. and if they were going for brutal honesty, well, that was what kolya had to say on the matter. maybe all he was accomplishing was making relations worse, but given the state of their affairs… it wasn’t as if he had a ton to lose.

he ignored the rest of what peter had to say, his jaw set tightly, and shoved the shirt at his chest. “enjoy the rest of your evening and good luck, peter. if you need something related to your clothing, find me.” the last part was harder to choke out– really, he would have preferred to inform the man that he’d be unavailable the rest of the night, but his job was to be available, and so he would be.

“que la suerte esté siempre de su parte,” kolya bit out, giving the man a formal little half- bow before heading for the door with a clipped pace.

#peter.threads #peter+kolya #kolya001

[districttenpeterxx]

peter almost expected the reaction. he had smoked on and off back home for years, a habit that abuela constantly gave him grief for, but even he still coughed occasionally at the more acrid leaf that got rolled up into those little papers the people in ten passed around and shared with each other. to him, this one had been a lot smoother, perks of the rich, he supposed, and he hadn't had the urge to cough, but when they did, he reached out to lightly clap them on the back, not too hard, but just enough to hopefully offer a little sympathy, if not relief from that cough.

"pleasure is mine." he offered back, taking his cigar back and pulling another drag of it, forming a little 'o' with his mouth as he blew out the smoke in lopsided rings. "not on purpose. any comedy is strictly a comedy of errors on my part. i've just completely given up trying to pretend i'm not absolutely over this bullshit. but you're right, this place is crawling in just my type of man. maybe before i go off to die, i'll get to kiss one of them."

he hummed, looking out at the skyline in front of them and offering a nod as he leaned against the side, pinching the cigar between his fingers and tapping off a bit of ash over the edge. "do you think there is a heaven? not to get all phy-lo-sofical on you, but when a man is sentenced to death, he starts to think about these things. like, am i gotta get an afterlife or is this it?" he glanced sideways at them again, a little grin and a shrug. "if you'd like to make an order, i'd be happy to ask my mentor for you."

they needed no further prompting to take the cigar, holding it somewhat gingerly before bringing it to their lips and mimicking the other’s gesture, sucking in their cheeks to take a drag from it. it wasn’t their very first time ; they didn’t know a single kid in eleven who hadn’t given in at one point or another, if only out of curiosity -, but they’d never gotten into the habit, mostly because the local chainsmokers’ hacking cough promised nothing good. the harm seemed minimal now, though. what did a few puffs matter, when they were liable to die in the following weeks ? that was the thought, at least, before the smoke hit their throat and sent them into a coughing fit, nearly dropping the cigar before catching it and handing it back to peter.

❛ nice t’meet you, ❜ sparrow wheezed, wiping their mouth with the back of their hand. their eyes felt uncomfortably watery, but then again, a little embarrassment didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. ❛ you’re a funny guy, aren’t ya ? guess you’re in luck, though. you’ve come to a place that churns out guys like that. ❜ as far as they could tell, anyway⎯the only capitolites they’d had a chance to talk to so far had been from district eleven’s team, but if they were an accurate sample of their peers, sparrow was pretty sure they were right. 

❛ it is a nice view, though. nicer than all the concrete down below. ❜ from this height, the city seemed made of glass, glittering in the dawning sun. shame it wouldn’t shatter so easily. ❛ and you’ve got your fancy cigar an’ everything. it’s basically heaven. ❜ they threw him another glance before tilting their face up to the sky. ❛ think your mentor’ll hook me up too if i ask nicely ? i don’t smoke, but i could use a treat before…you know, everything. ❜ 

#peter.threads #peter+sparrow #sparrow001

[districttenpeterxx]

"no, no! you've got to get into the spirit of it all!" again, he put on that affected capitol voice, going so far as to press a hand against his chest, trying to channel a bit of his stylist, with his hip popped out slightly, and an impatient eyeroll to really seal the deal. "this is supposed to be a treat for us, seeing how the other half lives, and if we're not enjoying ourselves, well, then we're just being selfish, aren't we?" this time, his eyeroll was genuine as he dropped the act and returned to his normal stance, a little hunched, a little uncomfortable in the clothes and the skin he was in for this whole thing, a centerpiece at a buffet.

it was automatic the way his hand reached out to engulf hers, giving a firm handshake as he would anyone back home, the utmost sign of respect, a firm handshake and a moment of eye contact. "it's a pleasure to meet you. and i agree, i have no idea how they pack it away, but i think we start with the horses and make our way back around to desserts after a couple of glasses of that pretty red wine over there. have you had wine? my abuela has a bottle that's nearly 80 years old and every year we get a little sip. it hasn't gotten terrible yet."

It was the first time Willie had actually smiled since stepping foot on that train back in 12. The conversations were dull and if she was alone in her thoughts for too long, she would just think of her impending death so happiness - even a glint of it, was borderline nonexistent. "All in good fun...," she repeated, her voice trailing off as she stared around at the crowd. Willie didn't think about sponsors or what would get her ahead. Her only thought was to survive, for as long as she could, and she didn't know if money would be all that helpful in the arena. "For everyone except us, right?"

His words, Pete, were comical but she could read in between each line. "I'd say not much, but," her eyes wandered to the buffet of food near her. "It's hard not to get excited about it. It doesn't make sense how someone could eat that much," she noted, holding her hand out for him to shake. She was never particularly polite, but she felt a kindred spirit in him. "Willie," she greeted. "Should we tackle desserts or hors d'oruvres first?" She asked, the latter sounding more like horse dorves than the actual pronunciation.

#peter.threads #peter+willie #willie001

[districttenpeterxx]

peter lifted an eyebrow, a smirk threatening to curl his lips up. he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop it from spreading, and he could almost feel his teeth breaking the skin. he did not want to be drinking blood for the rest of the night, and that was the only thing that stopped him from biting harder to stop another laugh from slipping free at satin's question. it was endearing, in a way. he supposed a district like one was likely to be as sheltered as the capitol itself, what with it's high status. they were barely a step below capitol brats, even if they were just as tormented by these games as the rest of them. "they'll be unconvered after tonight, i'm sure you'll see them. well.. you'll see two of them. that banana is pretty personal." this time, he let the smirk show, unbidden. and another snort. "yeah, boys are pretty cool. and i like them, as a concept. as a reality, we're all pretty gross and annoying, but there are perks. i've dated men, a woman once, and people for whom the concept of gender is as fake as the lines separating districts on maps."

it was nice to actually see that satin seemed to have some sense of humor in him. peter had made the assumption right away that he was going to be some militant, uptight stick in the mud. "objectively, you are. surely you've looked in a mirror before." he shrugged again, this time taking another sip of his drink before sliding it across the table. "so... you've never had.. fun before? shame. fun is... well, it's fun." his laugh this time was a little bitter, some of that bleeding out. he wasn't going to be having much fun anymore. no more late nights with his siblings. no more goofing off in the square of ten with his friends, no more shitty tattoos with safety pins. "i'm good at playing the dumb guy. the hot part is all genetics. you think i'm hot, though, you should see my brother and sister. they got the best genes, which is actually ass because i was born first. and it's all a show, right? we're the entertainment, so we have to look good doing it. have a swig, but don't be surprised if it burns going down. the good shit always does."

"I wanna see them." Satin blurted it out, almost instantly as soon as Peter had shared he had a few, and then he shared where exactly they were, and the blush on his face deepened as the image of Peter's ass now haunted the inside of Satin's brain. Satin was sure he'd never been obsessed with the idea of a banana as he was now. Still, he was smiling at the other, Peter seemingly was very easy to do that around and to think he had gone into this conversation weighing how soon he was gonna have to kill him. "I'd....I'd still like to see them I think, without them being covered up, they sound unique." God, he sounded so stupid, and he felt himself kicking the floor again, "So uh ex-boyfriend? You uhh like boys then yeah?" It was an interesting concept to Satin. "Boys are pretty cool."

When the snort left Peter's lips, Satin frowned for a moment, worried that they did in fact look stupid, but then Peter kept talking and he quickly smiled again, actually letting himself laugh with the other from District Ten. His stomach felt warm as Peter talked about the piercings and then he heard him say that he was hot. He'd been hearing it all night, but the way that Peter said it actually made him believe it and hey maybe the piercings weren't that bad. God, why did he care what a random from District Ten thought was hot? "You think I'm hot?" Wetting his lip a little, he blushed again, eyes glancing Peter's drink. "I've uhhh never drank before actually. Never really done anything dumb either or thought of myself as hot." Rubbing the back of his neck. "You seem really good at it though, playing the hot guy." Motioning his neck towards his drink, "You mind sharing that with me?"

#peter.threads #peter+satin #satin001

[districttenpeterxx]

"i have a couple of tattoos, actually." peter shrugged, eyes lowering to his own abdomen, visible through the mesh of his shirt. just behind one of those clusters of roses over his belly button, he could barely make out the faint outline under that awful cakey makeup, the twisted little badly drawn hammer and nail, crossed over one another. he lifted the hem of the shirt to expose it, knowing that the other tribute would have to squint to see it through the makeup, but they hadn't completely hidden it. "my ex boyfriend got drunk and gave it to me with a safety pin and a little pot of ink. that's why it's shitty. he couldn't draw for shit sober, let alone drunk. the other two... ones on my ass, and it's a banana, and that's a long story that involves a bet with my brother that isn't nearly as funny as it sounds. and then i have my abuela's name, rosalinda..." he lifted his arm, stretching it out and pointing to a spot under the mesh on his bicep. "... here."

the snort that peter let out was probably dangerous in this company. being laughed at wasn't something he expected the district one boy to be very fond of, but in this place, peter wasn't going to force himself to censor everything. only the worst of the worst. if they got to the arena and satin decided that he was going to murder him for laughing at him, at least peter could die knowing there was a reason for it. "my brother has nipple piercings. i know because adair lopez is the opposite of shy about anything and everything." he let his eyes drop for only a moment, then back up to satin's face with a shrug. "they look fine. a little red, i expect because they're fresh, but they aren't lopsided, which is probably the best you could hope for, and they suit you. don't worry so much about it. i'm willing to bet that half the sponsors in this room are into them. you look hot. let yourself be a dumb hot guy for the night and don't worry about it. s'what i'm doing, now that i've gotten over the whole 'come to die in an arena while thousands of people watch' thing. plus, the liquor here is better than anything ten could ever dream of, so that helps."

The District Eight didn't seem to be afraid of him, or he was just very good at hiding it. Though right now he supposed he didn't look incredibly scary with the wings on his back, and the makeup on his face. He chuckled dryly at the comment of being dressed in satin per his name. "You give them any fucking ideas......" and I'll kill you seemed a little morbid, considering where they were headed together, even if it was Satin's attempt at a joke. "And I'll see to it that your shirt isn't the only thing that's sheer at the next one of these things." A nice recovery he thought to himself. However, he did raise his eyebrow when the other mentioned his tattoo before he commented on the nipple piercings. He fought to prevent the blush that he could feel forming on his face from being too obvious. The idea of the tribute across from him looking at his nipples was the source of said blush.

"You have a tattoo? Where?" Satin's parents hadn't wanted him getting any tattoos, that was something for a Victor, the tribute needed to look physically perfect. "Is it something embarrassing, that why it's shitty?" Wetting his lip though, he looked down at the nipple piercings again, before back up at Peter. "How do you know, that they'll feel good? You have piercings of your own you lying about?" He grinned a little, stupidly in his own opinion as he kicked his foot against the floor a little. "Be honest are they dumb? Or uhhh do you think they look good?" Satin didn't know why he was asking this no one from District Ten of all places if he thought his nipples looked good, he chalked it up to just trying to make conversation.

#peter.threads #peter+satin #satin001

[districttenpeterxx]

"i am, though. and i'm okay with that. i like being district trash." peter's expression shifted. before, a flat affect had made him look impassive, but now a grin cracked the facade and lit up his face as he used his free hand to lightly clap oslo on the arm, the most friendly gesture he could think to offer as the other man finally accepted the offering of the water. "and nursing people is something i enjoy doing, so if i'm meant to be enjoying the night, i'm right where i should be." there was a charge in the air, both spoken and unspoken about this entire circus show they were acting in, and peter wasn't going to be the one to crack it wide open. instead, he pulled away and leaned back against the railing behind him, arms leaning back at the elbow, the picture of relaxed despite the wind up doll like feeling surrounding him. "maybe. but before today, no one knew who i was, so my appearance could be literally anything i wanted. i get to choose. you don't, do you?"

"i don't think you're trash." oslo cut in sharply. in fact, he'd been in trouble more than a handful of times for feeling otherwise towards tributes. "you're simply meant to be enjoying the night, not nursing someone who's simply indulged in too much drink." he accepted peter's anger, and wouldn't stand there and tried to dissuade him. oslo thought he had every right to be angry. instead, he answered genuinely, "there is no persona. and i'm very sorry i can't send you back to them." he couldn't imagine. tail between his legs, oslo took the water, drank some, and spit out the rest before looking at peter, "everyone has an appearance to uphold tonight, wouldn't you say?"

#peter.threads #peter+oslo #oslo001

[districttenpeterxx]

#peter.face #peter.style #he’s so CUTE

[districttenpeterxx]

pete couldn't help but snort a little. his life was one of like the biggest fucking joke, and right now, he was standing in the middle of one of the worst punch lines. caught between a rock and a hard place, where he didn't get a say in the rails his train was riding down, and the people around him wanted him to derail completely. and then there was the uppity, smarmy little stylist, cursing at him in Spanish and tearing his emotions between anger, the most obvious, guilt, for being a dick about this whole thing, and a little bit of raw amusement and intrigue, because his reaction was both shocking and a little over the top. not to mention, someone else speaking spanish was certainly quite nice.

"estoy bastante seguro de que no soy yo quien actúa como un mocoso en este momento." as he spoke, pete leaned against the counter next to the sink, crossing his legs at the ankle and folding his arms across his chest to at least try to preserve some kind of modesty. not that the shirt had done much of that to begin with. "you're throwing a temper tantrum over a shirt. it's a very nice shirt and you're a very talented designer and stylist. it's still a shirt. last month, i gave up eating for a week so my siblings wouldn't go hungry. two years ago, i literally sold my shoes so that my abuela could have a new coat for the winter." it was useless, and he knew that. kolya hadn't even bothered to acknowledge the fact that peter was literally here to die, but a little bit of perspective never hurt anyone, even if it wasn't going to help.

"para el registro, i wasn't being disingenuious about your talent, even if it was snarky." that was as close to an apology as pete was willing to get, the guilt still eating at him despite so many other feelings trying to be number one in his forefront. "you don't need some district trash guy with three shirts telling you that you're talented, but you are."

kolya huffed a hot breath of air in lieu of words, irritation spiking dangerously. kolya wasn't necessarily easy to set off-- but he had his limits, and the ones when it came to the fashions he'd worked himself to the bone on for an ungrateful little shit, that threshold was low and rapidly being met.

what kind of freak unbuttoned from the bottom up, anyways?

kolya watched every last one pop open, his breaths shallow, body tense. they were a single broken thread away from kolya snapping-- and really, it would be a terrible look for him, but clearly this tribute didn't care either way.

unbidden, a laugh burst out of him, but he quickly regained control. somewhat. pitifully little, really. "malparido," kolya hissed, stamping his foot as he caught the shirt thrown at his face. the uncouth indignity of it all! "¿estás jugando?"

fuck the games, fuck the tributes, fuck this entire job. part of him was ready to resign on the spot, storm out back to clio's house and hole away making special orders for people who would appreciate it-- but that was the temper talking and he knew it. deep breaths. deep breaths. it was just mind boggling, how he could throw his entire being into this only to be met with a brute who would slop all over himself and have the nerve to be offended kolya wanted to clean him up.

"lo que sea. just fucking leave if you don't want to wear it, you ungrateful brat. parade around naked for all i care. they'll eat that up." he turned and hunched over the sink, hissing and cussing to himself while he worked on the delicate fabric. mesh was so fucking annoying to get shit out of.

#peter.threads #peter+kolya #kolya001 #translations: im not the one acting like a brat right now #for the record

[districttenpeterxx]

peter hadn't really intended on making a bunch of friends at this party. he hadn't expected he was going to be making any real enemies either, but everything had been so pleasant and relaxed so far. dipping a toe into the capitol showcase waters, perhaps. going easy on the poor loser district kids for their first night before they were thrust headfirst into the spotlight and then the arena.

sure, they were in the spotlight, but there was plenty of buffer, with mentors and escorts flitting around and easing them all in. peter was thankful, and found himself actually enjoying a little bit of all of this. the company, at the very least, was nice. the other tributes. "thanks, they have really nice soap on the train, and i took a shower on the way here." they startled peter with how they swayed, and then grabbed him and tugged him along like he weighed nothing. he watched them with interest and then a bit of shocked amusement as they passed him a bitten little treat that looked like a shiny tiny sandwich.

"you know, i don't usually share food with strangers." he took it anyway, and bit into it, at first startled by the flavor and then settling into a very content little grin. "and i think you lied to me. macaroni definitely has milk in it, and this also definitely has milk in it, so they share at least one ingredient." his grin was playful, a little smarmy as he ate the rest of the delicious little sweet. "it's probably the perfect food, to be honest. thank you for opening my eyes and my mouth to it. i'm peter, by the way."

iza contemplated the rose- clad stranger's admittance, that he was afraid of commitment. such a concept seemed foreign to them. "some sort of flavor. a fruit, i think. i've always thrown myself headfirst into everything," iza told him, "until-" now. abruptly, they cut the sentence off, and hummed, blinking as the stranger's hand found their elbow. they leaned a bit closer, unthinking and comfortable with the warmth of the body next to them.

"you smell nice. i'm not certain they have a single ingredient in common," iza said, brow furrowed, somewhat aghast. they stared at him for a moment, eyebrows still pushed together, until they came to a decision. their arm wound around the stranger's, hauling him down the long table until they found what they were looking for-- a tower of brightly colored, delectably perfect macarons. they picked one up, took a single bite, and then offered the rest of the little tan treat to peter, unhanding him in order to reach for a different color with their other hand.

"that one is caramel, i think," they said. "and this one…" mottled red and white, iza took another bite. "raspberry. my favorite." then they held that one, too, out to their new friend, this time watching to see his reaction. "what do you think?"

#peter.threads #peter+iza #iza001

[districttenpeterxx]

"i would like to point out that if one of us is winning, and it isn't me, then i'm still dying in that arena." he felt like the only way to really get over all of it was to just... embrace it and make jokes, because peter felt like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and that he was ready to rip out every hair in his head one by one. "i don't wanna be this guy, either, but if you're so confident that one of us is gonna win, and it is you that does, can i ask you a favor?" his expression shifted, from the jovial doom to something too serious, stark and flat. "i'm not gonna ask you to take care of them, but if you go home to ten, can you please just... check in on them? abuela and adair and marisol? they're all the family i have, you know? and i'm worried what happens to them when... if? if i don't go home."

he blinked a couple of times as he looked down at their hands, turning his just so so that he could give her's a squeeze in return, sniffing a little too hard. "i'm scared, lila. i kinda always thought i'd live to be as old as abuela and be in ten forever and that this was one of those things that happened to other people, you know? its stupid, i mean, i had my name in there so many times, because i was making sure i could feed my family. but... but here we are, i guess. i'll try my best not to cry."

Lila frowned. She never thought of that.. That this would be a death sentence for everyone, including her. Although, this wasn't her first thought since the reaping... Being here with Peter made her think, which Lila wasn't sure was a good thing.

She smiled at Peter and leaned back against his shoulder. "Thanks, Pete." Lila said sarcastically. "You won't be dying in the arena. One of us, we're gonna win." She told him with a bright smile. She wished she could convince Peter that they might have a chance but it seemed like his mind was already set.

Lila shook her head and reached over to squeeze his hand. "I would never make fun of you for crying, Peter." She shrugged. "I don't think I'll be crying but if I see you cry, I might cry." Lila said with a laugh.

#peter.threads #peter+lila #lila001

[districttenpeterxx]

they talked a lot. maybe that was a good thing, because peter wasn't feeling particularly chatty, but it was also extremely overwhelming to take in someone like that. like getting on the train all over again, or maybe standing in front of it as it took off toward the next station. he wouldn't call it a bad thing, necessarily. not yet. maybe they were the kind that grew exhausting after so long, or maybe they were the kind that simply grew on you more. peter wasn't sure he would live long enough to really find out.

"viridian is a shade of green, right?" that was one of those words that peter had seen in books and had asked about a long time ago. if he was right, he would be thrilled with himself for even recalling it to begin with. as they started listing his supposed traits, however, his face fell a little. "i only have one cat, and her name is belle, and she's a princess, actually. and why would you hug someone for yourself?" his face scrunched at that thought, as if truly trying to comprehend it. "i suppose. my abuela says that it was an old family name. i'm from ten. before... all of this, i worked as a handyman. liked fixing stuff up for people. i'm honestly a little worried that those houses are gonna go to shit without me there."

"thank you. it is actually from an old ballad. my parents thought it suited our new district though. my name is really thimble viridian, but most people here just don't bother to call me all that." they gently over-explained. then pointed at a series of cups near the back of the table. it had a bubble on top that apparently had some form of smoke circling around inside and frost creeping up the stem of the glass. "then I would try that back there. I don't know what it is, and it might overwhelm you, but I've never had anything like it before. that's a pretty interesting experience by my measure. what district are you from?"

thimble smiled. they looked over him with some serious consideration. "you look like the sort who feeds stray cats, but insist they aren't yours. like when you give people hugs, it's really for them and not for you. like you are as out of place here as I feel." he seemed somewhat trustworthy. it would appear that was a rarity "peter? oh, I believe I quite like the name peter; the rock. it is a very old-fashioned name, isn't it?"

#peter.threads #peter+thimble #thimble001

[districttenpeterxx]

if there was one thing that peter was absolutely certain of, it was that he didn't want to talk to the career tributes if he could help it. it wasn't anything against them, not really, not completely, but it was certainly a dangerous game to play, to rub elbows with one of the people who definitely wanted to and would kill you without blinking an eye.

but he wasn't going to deny that, at the very least, the district one tribute who had so brazenly decided to take a seat at his table was good looking, and if he was going to die, he was going to die enjoying the view. "i'm honestly surprised you didn't get wrapped in bolts of satin. would have been a real gas to dress you up in your name, hm?" his posture, for the moment, was relaxed. with a drink in front of him, barely touched but giving off the smell of something that would be dangerous if downed quickly, peter had taken to this people watching thing for the time being, and gazed over toward the other tribute with a relaxed kind of ease that would likely put him in danger once the actual murder started.

"no, the makeup artist did cover up my shitty tattoo though, if that counts." his head inclined a little, and a smirk tugged at his lips in amusement. "those'll feel great once they actually heal, for the record. s'what i've heard, anyway. somethin' to look forward to, maybe."

The Gala was mostly a distraction from what actually mattered, Satin should have been training, and preparing for the games. Instead here he was, chatting with sponsors, and even worse his nipples were incredibly uncomfortable because of the piercings forced on him by his Stylist. Glass of water in hand, he managed to escape a conversation with people who seemed more interested in his suit, than his skill. Finding his way to a table, it was already occupied by the boy from District Ten, Peter.

Satin remembered his reaping, as he did with all his competition. Peter was so far one of the Tributes that Satin deemed the biggest possible threats outside the other Careers based on looks only, now it was just time to asses if his personality actually backed up his looks, or if this one would break under the pressure and die in the Bloodbath. Smiling at the other as Satin finally acknowledged him.

"Your outfit looks not nearly as stupid as mine. Tell me your Stylist give you any unwanted body modifications or have they let you keep your dignity somewhat?"

@districttenpeterxx

#peter.threads #peter+satin #satin001

[districttenpeterxx]

the tributes gala;; every rose has its thorn

#peter.musings #peter.style

[districttenpeterxx]

"my mentor feels sorry for me, i guess." peter shrugged his shoulders, twisting the cigar around his finger before lifting it to take another long draw from it. there was that headrush feeling, the one he had only experienced a few times before when he'd taken a hit from something that wasn't mostly hay and had a real kick. his cheeks puffed out for a moment before he blew that smoke out, both through his nose and his mouth, and then twisted it to offer the end to them with the smallest bow of his head.

"peter. and i appreciate the gesture, though i will admit, this is probably the only thing of mine you'll be sticking in your mouth. i've got a proclivity for uppity, high strung guys, i'm afraid." there was a wry smile as pete lifted his arms above his head in a long, cat like stretch, feeling a few things pop and crack as he went before settling back in to standing at his full height. "it's almost a shame that it's so nice, here, huh? like i almost wanted it to suck more so i could feel better about not wanting to be here." there was a chuckle, and he shook his head. "then again, i guess when you're on the chopping block, not wanting to be here should be par for the course."

as the figure stepped away from the elevator and into the first rays of sunlight, sparrow realized they could place him after all. the male tribute from ten…peeta something ? no, that didn’t sound right. despite rewatching recordings from the reaping obsessively on the train ride to the capitol, they still managed to mix some of their fellow tributes up, and that simply wouldn’t do. they did need to know what they were up against, after all. 

they watched in mild interest as he pulled a match out of his pocket, striking it against one of the decorative stones that lined the garden path and using it to light a fat cigar, its burning end a little pinprick of light in the early dawn. sparrow’s experience of smoking was limited to the rolled-up cigarettes culler used to huff in the morning, and those were more than halfway made of grass, but even they could tell the stuff was quality. its shape was smooth and even, nothing like the stained paper they’d seen field workers wrap their smokes in. 

❛ same here, ❜ they said, mostly to seem friendly. ❛ a day in the orchard starts bright an’ early too, i guess. how’d you get your hands on that ? ❜ curiosity did indeed kill the cat, as for all their previous wariness, sparrow found themselves creeping closer, eyeing the other’s find. ❛ sure, i’ll give it a try. ❜ a moment’s hesitation, then : ❛ name's sparrow, by the way. feel like you should know that before i stick anything of yours in my mouth. ❜

#peter.threads #peter+sparrow #sparrow001 #smoking tw #smoking cw

[districttenpeterxx]

peter couldn't imagine what his family was going through back home, not really. he could imagine what he would be like if it had been him sitting at home while marisol or adair stood here in the capitol, rubbing elbows with these people. he could imagine what his heart would be doing, imagine what his stomach would be doing. he thought that maybe he could relate on some level to what they might be feeling, but he also knew that his family were full of surprises. they were the kind of people who reacted in the most bizarre ways to the most bizarre things. they could be upset and crying, or they could be angry. adair probably trashed his room by now. "yeah..." he answered the thought about his family simply. they were important to him. and he wondered if her implications meant that it was better to play nice and try to win, or better to die and leave them without worry of reprecussion.

either way, his stomach hurt again.

"i guess i'm just trying to decide if it's all worth it. the will to live, i mean." he smiled that wry smile that felt forced, the pained little chuckle leaving him before he could stop it. "if i get my own hopes up, then my last moments are disappointment. if the bar is already low, easier to jump it?" that question lingered in his own mind. why was he so resigned to his fate? "and i don't want anyone else to die, either. i don't want to kill anyone. so it's not like i can waltz in there and win without bleeding anyone dry, and i don't want to do that." he shrugged again, eyes roaming over the table, and he reached out for something that looked savory instead of sweet. "i like salt." he picked up the treat on the table, held it up almost questioningly. "savory?"

she understood that way of thinking, to a fine point though. she had underestimated herself when she'd been reaped but her desire to live had kicked in even if it was almost too late. maybe the same would happen to peter, maybe that instinct would infect him when he stood on that podium and the time counted down. maybe not, maybe he had given up so entirely that he wouldn't survive. she didn't want to think of him that way really, not yet.

"but it isn't just you." she was trying to warn him without saying it outright. asena had been almost lucky that the people she had called family had not cared for her, there was no attachment to them which meant she could behave the way she did now. she did the bare minimum when the games weren't happening to appease the capitol and she had never let them use her in the ways she assumed others had to. a threat had occured once, but she'd been pretty clear that even if they followed through on such a threat she wouldn't be swayed. clearly peter was not in that same boat and that mde him so much more vulnerable.

"your family sounds important to you is all i mean." that probably wasn't enough information in reality, it was too cryptic but she couldn't say more, not here. "but perhaps don't resign yourself to oblivion just yet?" she made it a question.

"what do you prefer?" offering him again the opportunity to be in control, he seemed to give it away with such ease. she knew better than to allow herself to care too much, especially about tributes like this. but nothing was written in stone yet, maybe he'd surprise them both and find the will to live in his pockets.

#peter.threads #peter+asena #asena001

[districttenpeterxx]

pete wasn't sure that he'd really slept at all, but he had been wickedly surprised when, after asking his mentor subtly about tobacco, they'd slipped him a cigar, rolled tight and thick, and waved him toward the lift with a mention of the rooftop. he hadn't hesitated to slip away and disappear into the shiny metal box with the cigar and the single match he'd been given to light it. back home, he'd been more of a pipe guy on the rare occasions he'd indulged, but this.... well.

maybe the capitol did have it's perks.

he could practically hear abuela in his head. 'peter michael lopez, you're going to put yourself into an early grave' and it was almost laughable to think of it. he did let out a little chuckle as the lift dinged and those smooth silver doors slid open, letting him out into a milky early morning sky. the view, if nothing else, was incredible.

the figure standing there did startle him, but they didn't appear to be a threat... not right at this exact moment, anyway. this wasn't the arena, after all.

he struck the match against one of the stones next to him, and quickly lit up, allowing the smoke to roll around in his mouth before he quickly blew it out in a huff. "up with the cows. i don't think i've ever slept later than the sun a day in my life." and there was no reason to mention that he hadn't actually slept much at all the night before, anyway. that the bed had been too comfortable, so he'd pulled the blanket and a pillow from it and made himself a little cot on the floor, instead. he would have been embarrassed if anyone had come into his room and seen that. "would you like a hit? capitol tobacco, wildly top tier. not that i expected any less."

WHO : sparrow gardner & open. WHERE : the tributes' center rooftop garden.

the training center was even more impressive than sparrow had imagined it to be. the shack they called home back could’ve fit in their new bedroom five times over, not the mention the rest of the luxurious suite allotted to district eleven. while their first few hours in the capitol had been spent marveling at the comforts allotted to them, the distraction had quickly faded. everything sure seemed less rosy when they started to think that their last meal before the arena would be enjoyed here, or that it might be the last time they slept in a real bed. 

once those thoughts had settled in, the place had quickly become suffocating. sparrow wasn’t sure they were even allowed to leave their rooms unaccompanied, but no one had tried to stop them when they’d taken a few steps out the door, and the few avoxes they ran into averted their gazes, hurrying on without so much as an indication that they’d seen them. they took it as validation - what else could the capitol do to punish them, anyway ? -, making their way to the elevator and pressing the topmost button.

the sight of the sunrise greeted them. from below, it might’ve been hard to see⎯but up here, near the top of the skyscrapers, there was enough of the sky to take a good look at the soft pink and orange hues of the new dawn. they lingered, walking back and forth aimlessly across the roof, eyeing the plants that grew in their pots. they were fed plenty enough here, but what could they say ? old habits died hard. 

the ping of the elevator startled them, and they turned like a frightened rabbit, half expecting to find a peacekeeper standing there. when they realized the figure who approached wore no white uniform, sparrow breathed a quiet sigh of relief. they shoved their hands into their pockets but relaxed their elbows, deliberately going for a nonchalant stance. ❛ go on. the view’s free, as far as i can tell. no one's stopped me yet, anyway. ❜ they kept the newcomer at the periphery of their vision for a few moments before adding : ❛ early bird, aren't ya ? ❜

#peter.threads #peter+sparrow #sparrow001 #smoking tw #smoking cw