Venus Dee Milo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
celebrityskinned) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-10-07 06:18 pm
celebrityskinned) wrote in thecapitol2014-10-07 06:18 pm
In Every Atom, Broken, Is a Name [OPEN]
WHO| Venus Dee Milo and open
WHAT| Venus shows people where the blind spots are.
WHERE| The corner of Castor and Juvenal.
WHEN| After Lonestar's post.
WARNINGS| Likely some mentions of torture and suicide.
Venus does the perfect approximation of just lounging at a bus stop, playing on her network device and checking her receipt for all the things she bought at the jewelry store. Capitol citizens passing by pay her no mind, except to sneer at the brand across her cheek. She knows she should be wearing it like a badge, but no amount of conviction seems able to stop her wincing every time that look of disgust crosses someone's face.
She feels strangely detached, as if she's spent all of her energy either in berating herself for her laundry list of recent mistakes or in acting like they haven't brought her down. She knows that there's chaos around her, and yet she feels like the shrapnel and debris in the air misses her, that the wind doesn't touch her. She knows that she should feel the hum in the earth as the water behind the dam reaches a breaking point, and yet there's nothing. Nothing but the sun beating on her face, her scarred, ugly face.
She's accomplished nothing here. Even Wyatt and Maximus' safety was incidental to anything she did. She has a fistful of locations where someone, anyone might go forth and make fire with a spark that she's to dim to light.
She sits there, browsing some tabloid on her device, and she waits.
WHAT| Venus shows people where the blind spots are.
WHERE| The corner of Castor and Juvenal.
WHEN| After Lonestar's post.
WARNINGS| Likely some mentions of torture and suicide.
Venus does the perfect approximation of just lounging at a bus stop, playing on her network device and checking her receipt for all the things she bought at the jewelry store. Capitol citizens passing by pay her no mind, except to sneer at the brand across her cheek. She knows she should be wearing it like a badge, but no amount of conviction seems able to stop her wincing every time that look of disgust crosses someone's face.
She feels strangely detached, as if she's spent all of her energy either in berating herself for her laundry list of recent mistakes or in acting like they haven't brought her down. She knows that there's chaos around her, and yet she feels like the shrapnel and debris in the air misses her, that the wind doesn't touch her. She knows that she should feel the hum in the earth as the water behind the dam reaches a breaking point, and yet there's nothing. Nothing but the sun beating on her face, her scarred, ugly face.
She's accomplished nothing here. Even Wyatt and Maximus' safety was incidental to anything she did. She has a fistful of locations where someone, anyone might go forth and make fire with a spark that she's to dim to light.
She sits there, browsing some tabloid on her device, and she waits.
no subject
She looks down at her hand, as if sadly expecting him to realize how intimate the gesture is and stop, and then the slightest smile quirks at the corner of her mouth.
"Although that's true for everyone, I guess."
no subject
The arenas aren’t the same as war, but honestly, from what Sam’s heard and seen - they’re not different enough to not be in the same genre. Maybe that’s just because war is what Sam knows, and he’s approaching this as one, as a soldier, but he wouldn’t know how to change that even if he tried.
He doesn’t let go of her hand, though. They’re talking about the likelihood of dying pretty soon, here, it’s kind of an intimate conversation.
“That’s… a feeling I’m kind of familiar with, arena context aside. Is that why you’re doing this, in case the next one is your last?”
no subject
She lowers her eyes and laughs a little. Her eyes keep falling on their hands together. "Nah. I'm doing this because I'm pretty sure it's the right thing to do."
And she's spent too long ignoring things like right and wrong to want hedonistic apathy to be her epitaph.
no subject
He’s not sure her answer doesn’t mean she’s not still partially doing this because she thinks her number might be coming up soon, but he doesn’t say that. He stops moving his thumb over her skin, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Good. Because I think it is, too, and if I’ve got to walk around here knowing I could bite it any day, I’d rather spend the ones I got left doing what’s right.”
no subject
"Okay. We should skedaddle before they get suspicious."
wrap this up here?
But she’s right, so he rumples his shirt a little, popping out the last couple of buttons and rebuttoning them in the wrong holes. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”