Temple Stevens (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clotting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-07-19 07:06 pm
clotting) wrote in thecapitol2015-07-19 07:06 pm
Entry tags:
How is This Living? [Closed]
WHO| Temple and Linden
WHAT| Temple visits Linden after his surgery.
WHEN| After the crowning.
WHERE| A hospital in the city.
WARNINGS| Mentions of drug abuse, sexual assault, dead infants.
Temple hates hospitals. The first time she was ever in one - like many Districters, she was born at home, with the town doctor dabbing her fading mother’s head with a wet cloth and her brothers cleansing her newborn bloody body with dishtowels - was after the Arena, where they hooked an IV up to her arm to flood her shriveled veins with the fluids she didn’t get during the Games, where they stitched up the places she was torn between the legs, splinted her broken ankle. Since then she’s have the occasional cosmetic procedure and, of course, given birth to two children, but as much as possible has had her appointments at home. There’s only so much healing that can be done when the mind’s sutures are being tugged and yanked.
But for as much as she hates hospitals, she does care about Linden, and as such she visits him during her recovery with a bouquet of flowers nearly as big as she is. The Avox carrying it stands behind her, and from the certain angles it gives Temple the effect of a massive peacock’s plume. She’s maintained her aura of contentment, the one Linden knows is a facade, and the chatter around her always seems to be that time back in the city is doing her well, that the Districts must really take it out of a girl, as boring and dirty as they are.
She raps her knuckles on the doorframe of Linden’s room; naturally, Mentors are provided with fairly comfortable accoutrements. There’s a window, a table with more flowers and a stuffed Tribute, a tray of hospital food. It’s all so cheery in comparison to Linden, looking frail and, well, like he’s just had surgery. Temple looks healthier than ever and her best friend is nearly a ghost.
“Would it be crass to say that seeing you in this state makes me want a drink?”
WHAT| Temple visits Linden after his surgery.
WHEN| After the crowning.
WHERE| A hospital in the city.
WARNINGS| Mentions of drug abuse, sexual assault, dead infants.
Temple hates hospitals. The first time she was ever in one - like many Districters, she was born at home, with the town doctor dabbing her fading mother’s head with a wet cloth and her brothers cleansing her newborn bloody body with dishtowels - was after the Arena, where they hooked an IV up to her arm to flood her shriveled veins with the fluids she didn’t get during the Games, where they stitched up the places she was torn between the legs, splinted her broken ankle. Since then she’s have the occasional cosmetic procedure and, of course, given birth to two children, but as much as possible has had her appointments at home. There’s only so much healing that can be done when the mind’s sutures are being tugged and yanked.
But for as much as she hates hospitals, she does care about Linden, and as such she visits him during her recovery with a bouquet of flowers nearly as big as she is. The Avox carrying it stands behind her, and from the certain angles it gives Temple the effect of a massive peacock’s plume. She’s maintained her aura of contentment, the one Linden knows is a facade, and the chatter around her always seems to be that time back in the city is doing her well, that the Districts must really take it out of a girl, as boring and dirty as they are.
She raps her knuckles on the doorframe of Linden’s room; naturally, Mentors are provided with fairly comfortable accoutrements. There’s a window, a table with more flowers and a stuffed Tribute, a tray of hospital food. It’s all so cheery in comparison to Linden, looking frail and, well, like he’s just had surgery. Temple looks healthier than ever and her best friend is nearly a ghost.
“Would it be crass to say that seeing you in this state makes me want a drink?”
/wrapping
She does it in two ways; sometimes she feels anxious, feels every nerve aching and bruised, her mind battered around with memories that she can't seem to exorcise. And sometimes she simply escapes. Time vanishes and she'll have stared at a wall for four hours. She doesn't know where she goes when that happens, but she knows that her body becomes nothing but flesh.
She gets up from her seat.