thecapitol | Sun Breaks Over the Same Human Race By Whom You Were Erased [Open]

WHO| Venus and you!
WHAT| Venus catches her second wind.
WHEN| Week three and onward, until a little past the end of the Arena.
WHERE|
WARNINGS| None.

When she first wakes in her bed, she's afraid to touch her face. She knows, deep down, that they won't have taken away the brand. She knows when she looks in the mirror and catches sight of that sprawling spidery blight, she's going to feel her stomach drop beneath the bed. She knows that the instant she puts her fingertips to her face she'll feel that warped, wrinkled slickness of scar tissue. She knows it'll destroy her all over again.

It takes her nearly half an hour of staring at the ceiling, making a mental list of the people she needs to make sure survived the Arena, before she reaches up and strokes her unblemished cheek. She all but catapults out of bed and stumbles to her dresser, to the mirror on top, where she stares with an uncharacteristic slackjawedness at the way she looks. She looks as if nothing has happened to her besides an unfortunate asymmetrical haircut. No being tied to a chair and mutilated. No nightmares that didn't end just when she left that jail cell.

It's stupid, probably, to care so much about how she looks, but it's difficult for a woman who's traded on her beauty to find purchase in anything but her body when it's mauled and mutilated, when its every corporeal reminder is one of torture and interrogation. And for a moment, just for a moment, she can imagine herself back in a time before so many of the people she loved died.

She can imagine herself renewed.

She returns to the Capitol with fresh energy, no longer curled into herself even though the windows in her have still been blown out. Her architecture no longer sags and creaks. She sings to the coffeemaker, sits on the couch of the District Suite with sodas and milkshakes, practices at the gym as a way to stay strong rather than merely to forget. She's social again, greeting people not out of a defensive way to hide her own pain but out of genuine interest in their lives.

She mourns, but it doesn't reduce her to some barely-functioning binge-drinking tragedy like it has in the past. At some point she realized that she was in love with all of humanity, rather than a handful of people. For the moment, she tries to hold onto that feeling, that hope that she so previously denied herself. For this moment, she makes herself free.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sure. Normally in the morning before you're even out of bed, and on actual concrete. Even in this weather." She gestures to her gym attire. "I have a sponsorship deal with some thermal exercise underwear, and not to read off a script or anything, but it works like a dream. I only notice it's cold on my face."

And yet, due to either good genetics or, more likely, the diligent and attentive moisturizing routine she adheres to, her lips aren't chapped at all from the cold weather, her skin still dewy.

"And acrobatics, weights, yoga, pilates, boxing, biking..." She lists off, trying to get him to put on that sheepish expression again, grinning.

"Alright, alright, don't rub it in," Gary grumbles playfully, aiming a weak punch at Venus's shoulder. It's not quite the same sheepish expression from before that she gets; this one is more reserved, a smirk tucked embarrassingly into his chest where he hopes Venus can't see how impressed he is. "Miss Universe and her heated panties over here just has to brag to the poor schmucks on the treadmill."

He pauses and glances up, looking noticeably more mischievous.

"You do this to everyone on your way around, or are you just trying to get my attention?"

Like a cobra, her hand snaps out and grabs the faux-punch, holding him firmly but painlessly a few inches from him, pushing back with muscles uncommon for a woman her age and stature.

"Do I actually have to try to get your attention? Damn, I'm off my game." She matches his mischievous look with one of her own - she's just playing. He's too young to be her type, but young enough to be her demographic.

Gary's getting some mixed signals here. On the one hand, there's some playful returned flirting going on, which he's pretty excited about. The other hand is the one she's grabbed like his balls in a bear trap. His smile doesn't disappear, but it does become vaguely unsettled.

"With reflexes like that, I think you can get whatever you want," Gary chuckles, lightly flexing his fingers as some hint that, okay, it's time to let go now, please, he needs these. "Kinda difficult to play hard-to-get when you go grabbing people by the wrist, you know?"

"That's what full-time coaching and superhero school will get you." She lets his hand go. "You still in school? Or are you too cool for that?"

And just with that, she sends her little message - you're too young, even though physically, he's probably only a year or two younger than her. But at the same time she leans over the treadmill in a way that accentuates her curves, inviting him to keep playing along, to continue this charade of pretend.

Naturally Gary doesn't get the first message, but the second is kind of hard to miss. Unconsciously he gives her a quick once-over with a sweep of his eyes. She's attractive, there's no denying that--attractive in that natural supermodel kind of way, that he admires and can objectively rate as 'good-looking.' Gary supposes he should be more personally (or perhaps hormonally) invested in these qualities, but finds that he isn't. He rarely is. It hasn't been a problem yet, though, so Gary doesn't worry about it.

"Nah," he says, rolling his eyes as if to say, yes, he is too cool for school, even if that's not the answer he quotes directly. "Graduated months ago. It's weird, you know?" Suddenly Gary's tone turns conspiratorial. "It was, like, May when I was at home last, and then suddenly I'm here and it's...October? Layover, am I right?"

"Man, don't get caught up on the months, then the years off will really throw you for a loop." She chides, she smiles, she reaches over and, grinning, turns up the difficulty on his treadmill.

"You graduate from a regular school and all? You got to understand, I'm just curious and a little jealous. I never quite got to do all that." Her smile falters just a little, because she knows it doesn't mean she isn't smart, but sometimes she feels it, and to tell the truth it'll be a bit of a blow to her fragile ego to think Gary can out-think her.

Venus has nothing to worry about--not just because Gary is pretty air-headed on his own, public education or otherwise, but also because he's too distracted by the change of treadmill settings to even register that Venus is uncertain. It's odd, like that little change is enough to make him realize that he's been jogging steady for at least thirty minutes now and, holy shit, he's actually really tired right now, can he keep doing this? Probably, Gary tells himself. Definitely, if this is a challenge. He puts on a mischievous grin and, without actually thinking about it, turns up the treadmill difficulty himself. He's totally got this.

"Don't be," Gary huffs and rolls his eyes. "It was boring as shit. Gotta be incognito and all, it's not any fun. Superhero school sounds way better."

Venus meets his brash grin with one of her own, then sets up the treadmill difficulty to its very highest setting. See him run it all the way up now.

"Eh, look at the kind of people who end up in superhero school, though? More baggage than an international airlines." She tilts her head back, looks at him over her cheekbones. "What kind of superpowers you got then, champ?"

Oh shit, his bluff's been called. Gary's smile falters slightly into something more nervous, and he's definitely broken into a healthy sweat, but the guy deserves a little credit because he just keeps going. Maybe he's being stubborn, maybe he's trying to prove a point, maybe he's a masochist. Gary isn't quite sure himself. Still, he continues running.

"I wouldn't know," he says, pauses to pant and catch his breath, and by that point Venus has changed the subject. Gary isn't in a position to argue. "This," he says, keeping his chin up and eyes firmly leveled. "This, what I'm doing." Pant, pant. "The running."

"Superstubbornness?" Venus grins and pulls the towel off from her shoulders, lays it over the handrest of the treadmill. "Or are you some kind of speedster?"

The latter, well, there's a reason the Capitol wouldn't want him to have his powers, and she has to admire if he does have that gift that he would still bother to exercise rather than relying on his immense power.

"Look, I've got to run, but keep it up, okay?"

Gary nods emphatically, only to realize a few seconds later that this answer could be a valid response to either question. He thinks on that for a moment.

"...Yeah, both." A crooked grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. Gary decides to let Venus fill in the blanks on that one, mostly because he's too busy gasping for air. He's almost relieved when instead she decides to see herself out. "You can have mine," he suggests with an affectionate pat of the treadmill, casually stepping through the pun. "I'm...I think I'm done running. For, like...a year."

Sun Breaks Over the Same Human Race By Whom You Were Erased [Open]

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Wrapping this up, yes?