Marius Pontmercy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saisamour) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-08-18 11:27 am
saisamour) wrote in thecapitol2013-08-18 11:27 am
Entry tags:
[CLOSED] insert hipster lyrics here
Who| Marius, R, Peeta, Shion
What| Suddenly everything / various Capitol logs
Where| Places!
When| Various dates after Arena 7
Warnings/Notes| Pontmercying
// SHION
Marius expects to wake up after his death in the Arena and feels utter disappointment when he does.
He lies in his bed for hours, staring blankly at the ceiling. The tears have long since dried, leaving him with a feeling of numbness. He should not be here, breathing. He is supposed to be in the sky, in the wind and in the flowers that his dear Cosette loves so much. His spirit should have been reunited with her.
Eventually he decides to exchange his bed for the gardens in the Tribute Center, the one that Eva had introduced him to in what seems to him like aeons ago. He manages to rise with some difficulty (it is wearisome, almost painful to force himself to move forward when all he wants is to exist in the dilapidated gardens he once knew as well as his Lark), and drags his feet outside the room, to the elevator, to the spot where the tiny garden is, its plants and trees he recognizes as coming from various parts of the world, still as thriving and blooming as he last remembers it, like nothing ever dies.
A white lily catches his eye and he stares at it blankly. He cannot remember the Arena. Oh, not completely, that is certain; there have been stretches of clarity in his memory, faces and voices of people he had met and assisted, and who have assisted him in return. But everything else is a chaotic patchwork of blood and candy-colors and sand and the blinding rays of the scorching sun.
But he does not want to remember. Let his mind be a blurry haze; it is better than to recall the moments of anguish and torture. So he wanders through the garden, fingers ghosting over flowers, him staring at nowhere in particular with a distant look in his eyes.
// PEETA
The message comes unexpectedly, delivered by Marius's escort, who informs him that the Peeta Mellark is reminding him of their earlier discussion regarding the composition of love letters. The escort seems fiercely determined that he must go, and so the meeting is planned accordingly even before his input is ever requested.
Now in all honesty, Marius does not have the faintest idea why his escort had been fretting over the fact that he was to meet with Peeta, but eventually, and after some insistence that he wear presentable clothes, he finds himself confusedly waiting for said acquaintance in the Commons. He is standing by some rounded tables to one side, politely declining any offer of drink from the Avoxes, and sweeps the room with searching eyes.
// R
Marius cannot remember how he managed to end up in the Commons—he had simply been walking aimlessly, thoughts often-times leaving him to wander on its own, and all of a sudden he is in a busy room full of Tributes and Avoxes and Capitol citizens.
His brows knot in mild confusion, and then he decides to leave before anyone approaches him. In his sudden rush to the exit he does not even notice R until he is a mere arm's length away.
He is only supposed to step around the man he has almost collided into in his haste. But then he makes the mistake of glimpsing his face, and when recognition dawns on him his eyes grow large and his breath hitches, and fragmented memories are suddenly ripped out from the depths of his mind that had kept them trapped: of sand curling up in waves, teeth ripping off the skin and muscle off his arms, and the biting cold of the desert night as his blood paints the sand red.
Marius freezes.
What| Suddenly everything / various Capitol logs
Where| Places!
When| Various dates after Arena 7
Warnings/Notes| Pontmercying
// SHION
Marius expects to wake up after his death in the Arena and feels utter disappointment when he does.
He lies in his bed for hours, staring blankly at the ceiling. The tears have long since dried, leaving him with a feeling of numbness. He should not be here, breathing. He is supposed to be in the sky, in the wind and in the flowers that his dear Cosette loves so much. His spirit should have been reunited with her.
Eventually he decides to exchange his bed for the gardens in the Tribute Center, the one that Eva had introduced him to in what seems to him like aeons ago. He manages to rise with some difficulty (it is wearisome, almost painful to force himself to move forward when all he wants is to exist in the dilapidated gardens he once knew as well as his Lark), and drags his feet outside the room, to the elevator, to the spot where the tiny garden is, its plants and trees he recognizes as coming from various parts of the world, still as thriving and blooming as he last remembers it, like nothing ever dies.
A white lily catches his eye and he stares at it blankly. He cannot remember the Arena. Oh, not completely, that is certain; there have been stretches of clarity in his memory, faces and voices of people he had met and assisted, and who have assisted him in return. But everything else is a chaotic patchwork of blood and candy-colors and sand and the blinding rays of the scorching sun.
But he does not want to remember. Let his mind be a blurry haze; it is better than to recall the moments of anguish and torture. So he wanders through the garden, fingers ghosting over flowers, him staring at nowhere in particular with a distant look in his eyes.
// PEETA
The message comes unexpectedly, delivered by Marius's escort, who informs him that the Peeta Mellark is reminding him of their earlier discussion regarding the composition of love letters. The escort seems fiercely determined that he must go, and so the meeting is planned accordingly even before his input is ever requested.
Now in all honesty, Marius does not have the faintest idea why his escort had been fretting over the fact that he was to meet with Peeta, but eventually, and after some insistence that he wear presentable clothes, he finds himself confusedly waiting for said acquaintance in the Commons. He is standing by some rounded tables to one side, politely declining any offer of drink from the Avoxes, and sweeps the room with searching eyes.
// R
Marius cannot remember how he managed to end up in the Commons—he had simply been walking aimlessly, thoughts often-times leaving him to wander on its own, and all of a sudden he is in a busy room full of Tributes and Avoxes and Capitol citizens.
His brows knot in mild confusion, and then he decides to leave before anyone approaches him. In his sudden rush to the exit he does not even notice R until he is a mere arm's length away.
He is only supposed to step around the man he has almost collided into in his haste. But then he makes the mistake of glimpsing his face, and when recognition dawns on him his eyes grow large and his breath hitches, and fragmented memories are suddenly ripped out from the depths of his mind that had kept them trapped: of sand curling up in waves, teeth ripping off the skin and muscle off his arms, and the biting cold of the desert night as his blood paints the sand red.
Marius freezes.
no subject
"Mademoiselle Valeria had mentioned a train." It was likely guarded, however. "Do you have those, in your world?"
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"I doubt we will be allowed on it though." After all it would likely be counted as an escape, a way to get away from the city. They couldn't risk losing their entertainment, he thought bitterly.
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Besides, it was not as if he had any particular plan of using the train as a means of escape. But the option was there, in any case. Which was why he chose to say, instead, "Perhaps we will yet, someday."
He cast a curious glance at Shion then, wondering whether the boy wanted to escape the Capitol. Or whether Shion was more like himself: simply waiting for a chance at a death that he can no longer wake from.
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Then again, escaping by train would probably be easier, but with an aeroplane they could go anywhere...
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His studies have always been more focused on politics and law, aside, of course, from the usual school curriculum, as well as his own studies in languages. He still looked a little bewildered, blinking once again as he said, "We do not have those, not back home."
And then his eyes drifted back to the ground. Thinking about home gave him a sense of melancholy. Everything was all the more difficult to understand here, and the sense of being out-of-place in an entirely different world was amplified with his being from what was apparently a completely different, olden time period, as well.
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do you mind if we wrap up this thread? :3
But he found himself gradually relax after the initial surprise waned. Certainly, he did not belong here, but if he was to remain here for an indefinite period he might as well continue learning. Perhaps he could even discover a means to bring down the Capitol. Without Cosette, all that remained that he can dedicate his life to was that singular goal.
So he returned the smile, just a little. "I pray you are right."
yup