hes not scared he's just.uh

waiting for soup

#135

"What's a girl gotta do to get out of here for a little bit? They're tryn'a kill me, the least they could do was let me out for some fresh air before they do it. I hear even the cows in Ten get fresh air," Farina whined to nobody in particular, pacing the floors of the lobby impatiently. It seemed that after the last Games, security had tightened, and the Peacekeepers wouldn't let her past the doors. She wasn't going to run away, all she wanted was to walk around a little, maybe get a drink, go dancing. Was that so much to ask? She wasn't surprised, of course. Perhaps that's part of why she was so damn irritated. She wasn't used to not being able to walk outside and have the wide expanse of the outdoors and everything beyond it available to her. It unsettled her.

am scared

15/05/2023

today's bunny is very small

Gemma made it a point to position herself in the lobby for the arrival of the rest of the tributes. Since the trip from One was one of the shortest, she'd gotten here before the others, and had grabbed herself a coffee and a front-row seat to the other tributes' arrivals. She sat on one of the lounges that were scattered throughout the lobby and watched as the latest group filtered in. "Mm, I'm quaking in my boots," she said sarcastically.

FOTD #135 : red-belted conk! (fomitopsis pinicola)

the red-belted conk is a polypore fungus in the family fomitopsidaceae :-) it is common throughout temperate zones in europe & asia. it produces brown rot & often parasitises rainforest trees.

the big question : can i bite it?? nah, it's inedible !!

f. pinicola description :

"the cap is hoof-shaped or triangular, & sometimes shelflike. it is hard & tough, & up to 30 cm or more across & 15 cm thick. its surface is more or less smooth, at first orange-yellow with a white margin, later dark reddish to brown & then frequently with an orange margin. the pore surface is pale yellow to leather-brown, 3–4 pores per mm."

[images : source & source] [fungus description : source]

15/05/2023

Slate had spent the night of the ball and the whole next day at the hospital with Cress and Kya. He felt like the entire fabric of his world had shifted since the ball, since Cress had gone into labor, but the world outside had continued to plod on. Finch and Ash had both died while he was in that hospital room, holding the new life that he'd earned the right to meet -- or been given the right to meet, perhaps, by his allies and friends. Now, though, there were loose ends to tie up, and he'd returned to the Tower in order to collect their things from his room and to see if there was anything more he could do to help in the aftermath of the tributes' death. So that was how he found himself in the lobby of the Tower, holding an empty suitcase which he intended to pack his and Cress's things into, but waylaid by an eager Capitolite who wanted to offer her condolences over his tributes.

He couldn't stomach it, so he'd cast his eyes about and at the first (relatively) friendly face he saw, he said, "Oh, yeah, coming," as if he'd been summoned, and made a beeline for them.

Day 135 I really like doing these simple ones

The energy in the Tower was always frantic as interviews approached, and he found himself on edge, though he tried to come across normal, calm, collected. His tributes hadn't managed to stand out from the crowd yet in any way, and he worried that they wouldn't last long. He'd spent the morning coaching them both on interview techniques, but it felt like it was all for naught. He was, therefore, at the bar, just a few hours before interviews were to begin, drowning his sorrows in advance because wasn't that just smart -- to get a head start on it? When someone approached, he held up a hand. "Hey, bummers only at this table, okay?"

Holland was proud of the safari, the mutts they'd put there. She was waiting for tributes to venture that way only because she wanted to see how it'd go, though that excitement in her stomach did make her feel a bit sick as well, like she was what was wrong with all of this. These thoughts were what was on her mind as she waited in line for a coffee, having been up for too many hours now and with too many hours to go. The breaks in her shifts were relatively short at the start of the Games, especially since she'd taken on a more active role in crafting these mutts and now knew more about them than most others on her team. "What a strange song and dance we're all trapped in," she murmured allowed.