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thecapitol2014-10-02 09:51 am
knifewithnoname) wrote in thecapitol2014-10-02 09:51 am
Drinking sorrows away
WHO| Pruna, Duck and you!
WHAT| Pruna is not dealing with anything very well at the moment. So she has decided to see if this alcohol thing adults seem to like so much has any merit
WHEN| During the last week, whilst Sandy is going crazy
WHERE| Main tribute lounge to start
WARNINGS| Twelve year old drinking alcohol for all the worst reasons, mentions of death, torture. Language.
Duck was alive. That was perhaps the only good news that Pruna had had in the last few months. Duck was alive, as pathetic and stupid as he was Pruna did not want him to die because of her. Effie had given him to her, and Effie was gone now. Too many people had gone. She had woken up from dying and learned that everything had gone weird when she had been in the arena. Max was gone, Wyatt was gone. Dead both of them. Eva was dead too, she had been the first person to sponsor Pruna, the first person to think she might have a chance.
Pruna had grown up surrounded by death, people died every day, most days she caused or help cause those deaths. But people she knew didn't die. She had never known many people, just her guardians, Kant, Elena and her sister. She cared about even less. But now her sister was dead and so many people here who she knew had died. For real died.
She wondered if Maximus and Wyatt had went home, or if it were different if you died in the Capitol. Those people never came back. She shouldn't care. But she did. Because she was still too soft.
Duck was alive though, a stylist had brought him to her the night she got back, told her she didn't deserve such a loyal pet being an awful traitor and if she even heard rumour of Pruna hurting duck she would take him away.
Pruna had scowled at her. Everyone hated her at the moment, she was a traitor even though that was stupid because you couldn't be a traitor to people who kidnapped you and kept you prisoner. A traitor meant you had betrayed someone you owed loyalty to. But that's what they called her, in whispers. An awful girl who had let Clementine die, and tortured people.
She didn't care though. Let them think what they wanted. They were all stupid. If they didn't want her killing people they shouldn't put her in the arena.
She was sat watching the television. Sandy was broken. Not in a leaky faced bad way but... it was strange. She seemed stronger but she had lost control. She was attacking but she was not calm, not in control.
Control was part of being strong. Maybe the nightmares had finally driven her mad. Pruna understood that. She never used to. But she had never had nightmares before. Now she woke most nights, if she could sleep at all. Gasping for breath, unable to close her eyes because of what lay behind her eyelids.
She wasn't supposed to have nightmares. She was supposed to be stronger than that. But she wasn't. She was exhausted most the time because she couldn't sleep, and she feared she would go as mad as Sandy.
Which brought her to this place, sat on the floor in the tribute lounge with bottles of different drinks that she had managed to nab from the kitchen. She had grown up in an inn, alcohol was not a mystery to her. But she had never really drank it, watered down mead a few times, on special occasions.
Oh and that one time, when her sister and her had sneaked down to one of the cellars and tried some of the best wine. Taiwin had caught them but declared that their sore heads in the morning would be punishment enough.
But even if she had not drank a lot she had seen a lot of people drinking, and she knew that when people drank enough they went to sleep, and Taiwin sometimes slept so deeply after drinking that they could sneak past him and he wouldn't even wake up.
She wasn't sure how much she would have to drink though, so far it all just tasted weird and disgusting and bitter and made her feel funny. But she was determined for this plan to work. She had duck on her knee, though he wasn't allowed anything to drink. He was only a baby after all.
WHAT| Pruna is not dealing with anything very well at the moment. So she has decided to see if this alcohol thing adults seem to like so much has any merit
WHEN| During the last week, whilst Sandy is going crazy
WHERE| Main tribute lounge to start
WARNINGS| Twelve year old drinking alcohol for all the worst reasons, mentions of death, torture. Language.
Duck was alive. That was perhaps the only good news that Pruna had had in the last few months. Duck was alive, as pathetic and stupid as he was Pruna did not want him to die because of her. Effie had given him to her, and Effie was gone now. Too many people had gone. She had woken up from dying and learned that everything had gone weird when she had been in the arena. Max was gone, Wyatt was gone. Dead both of them. Eva was dead too, she had been the first person to sponsor Pruna, the first person to think she might have a chance.
Pruna had grown up surrounded by death, people died every day, most days she caused or help cause those deaths. But people she knew didn't die. She had never known many people, just her guardians, Kant, Elena and her sister. She cared about even less. But now her sister was dead and so many people here who she knew had died. For real died.
She wondered if Maximus and Wyatt had went home, or if it were different if you died in the Capitol. Those people never came back. She shouldn't care. But she did. Because she was still too soft.
Duck was alive though, a stylist had brought him to her the night she got back, told her she didn't deserve such a loyal pet being an awful traitor and if she even heard rumour of Pruna hurting duck she would take him away.
Pruna had scowled at her. Everyone hated her at the moment, she was a traitor even though that was stupid because you couldn't be a traitor to people who kidnapped you and kept you prisoner. A traitor meant you had betrayed someone you owed loyalty to. But that's what they called her, in whispers. An awful girl who had let Clementine die, and tortured people.
She didn't care though. Let them think what they wanted. They were all stupid. If they didn't want her killing people they shouldn't put her in the arena.
She was sat watching the television. Sandy was broken. Not in a leaky faced bad way but... it was strange. She seemed stronger but she had lost control. She was attacking but she was not calm, not in control.
Control was part of being strong. Maybe the nightmares had finally driven her mad. Pruna understood that. She never used to. But she had never had nightmares before. Now she woke most nights, if she could sleep at all. Gasping for breath, unable to close her eyes because of what lay behind her eyelids.
She wasn't supposed to have nightmares. She was supposed to be stronger than that. But she wasn't. She was exhausted most the time because she couldn't sleep, and she feared she would go as mad as Sandy.
Which brought her to this place, sat on the floor in the tribute lounge with bottles of different drinks that she had managed to nab from the kitchen. She had grown up in an inn, alcohol was not a mystery to her. But she had never really drank it, watered down mead a few times, on special occasions.
Oh and that one time, when her sister and her had sneaked down to one of the cellars and tried some of the best wine. Taiwin had caught them but declared that their sore heads in the morning would be punishment enough.
But even if she had not drank a lot she had seen a lot of people drinking, and she knew that when people drank enough they went to sleep, and Taiwin sometimes slept so deeply after drinking that they could sneak past him and he wouldn't even wake up.
She wasn't sure how much she would have to drink though, so far it all just tasted weird and disgusting and bitter and made her feel funny. But she was determined for this plan to work. She had duck on her knee, though he wasn't allowed anything to drink. He was only a baby after all.