@selenehoneybell

alyciajasmin: Reunited 👯‍♀️✨❤️‍🔥

surya-mirga​:

Surya clicked her tongue in a noise of disappointment, but she offered no half-hearted sympathy for the loss of District Four’s tributes. “Rhea and Avenue, yes,” she named her tributes as soon as the conversation rounded back to her personal topic of interest. “I think it’s about time for a Capitol victory. I fear they may give up on Reaping the Capitol children if no one wins soon.” It was not so simple, but she refused to stay in a losing district for too long. 

-

Sirena wasn’t so sure that they’d give up on reaping Capitol children anytime soon. Wouldn’t that just give the damned rebels more reason to rebel? But she kept those thoughts to herself, no sense bring up the rebellion. “You may be right,” she said instead. “Especially since they just added District Thirteen.”

abel-evans​:

“Fucking crazy, isn’t it?” Abel let out a gust of air. It was crazy, and as much as he didn’t particularly like Lysander, he wouldn’t wish death on him, it was even a little sad, especially because nothing had changed even after his death— the games still went on? Unfortunately.

-

“What?” She questioned. “The games or Lysander being killed?” Both were crazy. She wasn’t even sure she could begin to fathom how much it would have cost for the arena, especially if it was actually somewhere in space. 

✏

Sirena✉️Selene: I've got a fitting at 5:30 👗👰 be home afterwards. love you 😘

surya-mirga​:

“I don’t even know,” she muttered. It was cold, that was all that mattered as she ate another spoonful and grasped the bowl between her hands. It balanced the fever that came with alcohol. “How did you tributes do?” She hadn’t paid much attention to who died in the arena, only focused on her own tributes who lived.

“One of ‘em died.” She spoke. That much she knew. Tribute stats were a great thing to have on one’s phone when they didn’t feel like actually paying attention. “The other survived, not sure where they’re at now though. Both of yours made it right?”

surya-mirga​:

“Is there a kind that brings the Head Gamemaker back to life?” she inquired, blinking as she tried to focus on who’d walked into the room. She hated how pathetic she sounded, like she’d lost a knight in shining armor. She’d lost a man whose father’s name she didn’t remember, especially not after this much wine. “Quite the year to send the arena into space.”

-

Sirena frowned, gaze casting back towards Surya. She wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. “I uh... Not that I know of? What kind do you have?” She moved around to sit across from Surya. “It certainly is interesting.” She spoke, eyes returning to the screen. It was definitely nothing that had been done before. 

Sirena looked up from her phone and raised a brow. “Maybe. I mean, who knows the heck is gonna happen. ‘Specially now that Lysander’s dead.” She shrugged. “I mean he was the Head Gamemaker and all.” 

Abel never praised the gamemakers for the arenas they produced, mainly because he felt it was extremely hypocritical, even if they weren’t responsible for the over all premise, but he had to admit, this one was pretty cool, even if he’d never say it aloud.

“You think aliens might appear at some point?” he asked, nodding to the screen for context.

Sirena entered the room, intent on peaking in on the games. She hadn’t kept up well, nor had she really gotten to know her tributes, the least she could do was check on the one tribute she had left. Her eyes flickered to Surya as the other spoke. “Now, I just don’t believe that.” She replied, eyes moving back to the screen. “Maybe you’ve just got the wrong kind.”

Rhea and Avenue made it. At least they made it. At least there was a chance of something good in the future, if only one of them could live. A co-mentor was a built-in friend, until that ended. She could use a friend, but in one’s absence, a bottle of wine would do. And then some. Lunch and dinner had gone by, and the only thing she found appetizing was a large bowl of ice cream, to counter the slight fever of drunkenness. “I’ve discovered something very sad,” she announced when she heard someone else enter the lounge where she was curled up on a plush chair. “There are some things ice cream cannot fix.”

cadebentley​:

“Double shot caramel macchiato and a cup of poison, coming right up.” He wrote out Sirena’s name on one cup, then TRAITOR in big letters on the second, sending them to the line to be made. It was fucking embarrassing to be on the other side of the counter for this interaction, but he tried to find some solace in the fact Selene hadn’t followed her fiancee down. “Would she like some orphan tears in that? I feel like she’s into that sort of thing.”

-

She was no longer able to contain her smirk. She’d struck a nerve and that was amusing enough on it’s own. “Ah, I do believe I said Selene, not traitor.” She nearly demanded he rewrite the name. “But no mind. I’m sure she’ll enjoy the nickname.” Or Sirena would just pour the drink into a reusable tumbler before giving the drink to her fiancee in the first place. “Oh!” She caught the other barista’s attention quickly, “that should be a green tea, not poison. Hold the orphan tears,” her attention returned to Cade, “she’s not a very salty person.”

Task 010

Frost flower

Some might say your icy exterior is offputting but I think you're just a bit shy. Every year during the harshest seasons you give us some hope, that even in the darkest and coldest days there is beauty, not restricted to the sun. There is much to learn from you, the cold makes you wise and strong despite your fragility. And though you always fade in spring, it's a pleasure meeting you once more in winter :-)

Task 005

Sirena was always well loved by her parents, their eldest, their shining star, the heir to the vast majority of the fortune they’d established. They never told Sirena no, and made sure those around her rarely got away with telling her no. She was loved and cherished above everyone else, even possibly her siblings.  However, in the wake of her sisters’ deaths, she can’t help but notice they aren’t as doting, they aren’t as excited to help plan and pay for her wedding, they aren’t as present as they used to be, and they can even seem cold at times towards her. 

Having gotten her caffeine fix and swallowed a few painkillers back, Sirena was finally becoming able to comprehend everything that had gone on that morning. Rain had died, not that Sirena had expected much from either of Four’s tributes. But more than the bloodbath casualties that she’d become accustomed to in the years since her own victory, Lysander had died for the whole nation to see. But yet, with the exception of a few screens broadcasting the updates, everything seemed to be going normally. Another voice had counted down, the tributes had still launched, the games were still televised on the majority of screens. 

Her eyes were on a screen broadcasting the same smoky rubble scene that it had been for the past couple hours when Selene spoke. Her gaze returned to her fiancée, heart melting both in her chest and behind her gaze at the worry from Selene. She reached a hand over to take one of Selene’s, thumb soothing over her fiancée’s knuckles. “As soon as the games are over,” she promised assuredly. “I don’t know that I could get away with leaving before then.” She’d never tried. 

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that somebody wanted to go after Vultur and his team. Frankly, everyone should have seen it coming. Though, his death would do little to keep the Games from carrying on. In fact, it barely even stopped the launch from going on as scheduled. No, what worried Selene were the aftershocks. The attacks on the Capitol happened so long ago that people barely even discussed it. But, Selene remembered and the last thing she wanted was to be caught in the crossfire yet again. Whoever was behind the bombings with Lysander was clearly going after those involved with the Games. Naturally, the feeling that something might happen to Sirena worried Selene more than she could bear. As if she needed anymore worry lines.

“It’s stupid, really. I would just never forgive myself if something happened to you. It might be best if we go to Four as soon as you have a chance,” Selene explained as the news played on in the background. “Who knows where or who they’ll try and go after next.”

@shark-bcit​

Task 011

2030s

Your perfect decade...hasn't quite happened yet. You're ahead of the times, always looking for the hot new trend, and anticipating what the future holds. Your dream decade will be the 2030s, when robots will clean your house, you'll see the world through mind-reading glasses, food will be plant-based, and scientists will start thinking seriously about time travel. What a time to be alive!

Task 012

Sirena is unsure of who she will financially support in the arena. Four always comes first, however the tributes from home didn’t impress her much. Time will tell which tributes gain her attention once the arena actually begins. 

The morning was barely remembered, a hangover having made the possibility of climbing out of the comfort of bed seem like an impossibility. It was only half past noon, only a half hour past launch,  but the screens around the tower (where they’d normally all be broadcasting the games) were split between the games and the immediate coverage of the apparent explosion at Lysander’s press conference. So much was happening, and Sirena didn’t have the energy for it. So, in a last ditch effort to not return to bed, she found herself in line at Capitol Coffee in need of a double shot caramel macchiato. But when she got to the front of the line, eyes still cast on her phone having texted Selene to see if she wanted anything, she noted the voice that spoke certainly didn’t belong to the overly bubbly teenage girl who was usually there. She glanced up and had to repress a smirk, hiding a tinge of amusement. 

“I need a double shot caramel macchiato, and,” a glance at her phone again, about to move on without ordering Selene anything when the reply from her fiancée came through, “a green tea for Selene.”

Two years ago, he would have rather died than don an apron and be behind the counter in a service job like this. But he wasn’t the same person he was two years ago, and this morning, he felt an unexpected sense of pride– not shame– as he showed up for his first ever day of work. Real work, not a job where he paid off other people or begged the people he was still lucky to call friends to cover his ass. He was doing everything for himself now, no matter how much his feet ached and how many times he’d burned himself trying to learn to make lattes. And at the end of the day, he’d go home to an apartment with several roommates he paid his own rent for and bitch about it over a cheap beer. He was done with being a leech, and he wasn’t going to wait for Everett and Clem and everyone else to decide they were done with him first and leave him with nothing. “Welcome to Capitol Coffee, what can I get you?”

vix-holt​:

Vix nodded. She hadn’t been able to relax since they called out her name at the reaping, so it wouldn’t be any different for her really. “Any other advice?”

-

“Find water and a vantage point. Though, not all arenas have those.” She shrugged, thinking for a moment more. “Make at least one ally. A few is best though. And kill them before they kill you.”