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Coddy; creation by Monster&Minion, inc.
message 51:
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cecilia
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Jan 01, 2014 06:38PM
Addy's smile fell with his, slipping into that slightly dark, mostly worried expression that she most often wore. The one that made it so abundantly clear that worry was chipping away at brain cell after brain cell. "I've got three more reapings, Coop. That's three more times my name could be called. We're almost there." She agreed. Honestly, she hadn't thought much about what would happen after, though. She doubted there'd even be an after. With her track record, Addy doubted there would be.
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I've got two... Coop thought to himself, realizing again the thing he'd always hated. He'd always wished he was the one that was younger and she was older than him. Why couldn't it have been like that and she could have one less year to worry about things? To have one less year to have to fear for her life? Letting out a sigh, he drew his eyes up to hers, giving a small smile. "I promise that when you turn nineteen, I'm giving you the best present anyone could ask for." He didn't know what that would be, but he just wanted to promise her it. He had to promise something.
Addy's frown grew when she counted up the years in her head. Coop only had two left. The few months between their births carried all the difference, it seemed. Addy hated it. If she was a mere few months older, she'd be able to go to her last reaping with her friend. And they'd be done with them forever, together. But that wasn't going to happen. "And what might that be?" Addy asked softly, an eyebrow arching. "I'm curious, do tell."
What was that going to be? Coop wasn't really sure. "Okay, I lied. So it probably won't be the best, but if it's from me, it'll probably still be amazing." That right there was Coop: obnoxiously arrogant until the end. He was getting good at hiding his doubts, never wavering in his little facade that he liked to put on unless he was with someone that would understand him. Unless he was with Addy.
Addy laughed softly, ghosts of a smile playing on her lips. "I'm sure it will," she agreed with a nod, though she wasn't convinced. He was thinking about something. Three more reapings weren't good odds; more slips were added with each year she ran. She had almost no chance of making it out alive. But at least she wasn't taking Tessera. Fewer slips, smaller chances. Right? Hopefully, at least. "I'm sure it'll be the best..."
"It will be." Coop promised, his voice exuding confidence. He wouldn't let her be down; he shouldn't have brought this up in the first place. It was obvious how sensitive Addy was to the topic of these games -- more than anyone else, really. He should have just kept his mouth shut. In an attempt to fix what he'd done, Coop picked up a rock from off the ground and pointed it towards a few of the warehouse windows that weren't already shattered. A mischievous smile was painted on his lips, "Think I could break one from here?"
Addy didn't quite believe him, but she wasn't going to say that. Sure, Coop didn't lie, and especially not to her. Maybe he did believe what he was saying, but Addy knew better than to hope for the best. She'd always hope, but she wouldn't dare expect the best. But Addy would let herself agree, just for his sake. She flitted her eyes to the rock in his hands, a smile ghosting her features. "Probably," she agreed after a moment. "Take the shot, Chicken Coop."
Chicken Coop: Cooper still found that nickname amusing. Smirking to himself, he threw up the rock for a minute, catching it in his grasp a moment later. "Ready?" And with one last little toss, he chucked the rock as hard as he could, watching as it sailed through one of the windows with a shattering commotion that he even found impressive. Letting out a small sigh, he nodded his head to himself. Well, at least he had one or two tricks up his sleeve. Not that he was planning on using them any time soon, though.
Addy clapped her hands over her ears, mentally calculating the trajectory and force he'd need to shatter that window. If he had the right angle--which it seems he did--he would make it. A grin played on her lips. Apparently her calculations had been correct. Okay, maybe Coop was actually a pretty decent shot, but she didn't need to say that to him. He was in no need of a further inflated ego. "Nice," she allowed after a moment, slowly fisting her hands at her sides.
"I try." Coop retorted, giving a sly smile. His back was once again resting against one of the support beams, his shoulders going up in a shrug. "Bet you could make one." He stated, his smirk changing to a genuine smile. He had a lot of belief in her, even if she didn't always have it in herself. Coop thought she could have been capable of doing anything she wanted. It didn't matter what others thought; he knew she would be able to do anything if she wanted it enough.
Addy laughed softly, shaking her head. "I can hit one in your dreams, Chicken Coop," she stated. She crossed her arms over her chest, gazing mindlessly around the warehouse. Addy needed confidence, but her rather undersized frame gave her lacking physical strength. Mentally, she could beat anyone, but physically, Addy could hardly throw a pencil. "I'll bet you I can't make one."
"What is it with you and my dreams?" Coop asked, quirking a brow, "But I still think you could make one." She was smart, he knew that. Just by the way she'd been watching him when he'd aimed his own blow that she'd been calculating every little degree of the motion, every little action that he took. He knew that all she was lacking in was physical strength, a thing that he had an abundance of. But she had her smarts, a thing that he could hardly compete with. He wasn't that bright, not as much as she was. In many ways, Addy was practically a genius.
"It's the only place you ever live up to what you think you are," Addy answered with a laugh, a smile ghosting her lips. "Maybe if the rock could actually make it that far," she allowed after a moment. She could hit it in theory without a doubt, but actually possessing the force it would require to throw the stone that far was another story. And getting over the fear of being caught due to the noise that the shattering glass would make. "I don't think I'd make it."
"Wow." Coop shook his head in mock disbelief. "You just like to make me miserable, don't you?" A moment later though, he actually found himself giving a small chuckle. "You're really not sure about this whole thing, are you?" He'd crossed his arms over his chest, watching her for a second. Though he'd been trying to make it so she was no longer worried, but that didn't seem like it was working. "Addy, just relax. We're fine." Okay, maybe they could get caught at any minute and the sound wouldn't really help, but he was confident. Nothing bad was going to happen.
"It's what I do," Addy promised with a sugary sweet smile. Their relationship worked in a rather simple fashion; bickering back and forth, with a slight serious moment in the middle. She shook her head at his words, biting her lip--which was rather ripped apart due to her constant fear. "Not really," she admitted after a moment. "But what if we get caught? If the Peacekeepers find us, they're going to kill us? Coop, I don't want to die. What if they catch us? What then?"
Coop gave a small laugh, "You're doing it right then." The smile he had faltered a bit as she voiced her concerns, his eyes falling to the floor for a moment or two. "You're not going to die, Addy. We're fine. Completely fine. Nothing's going to happen, okay?" He looked upwards, trying to catch her eyes. As long as he was there, he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. No matter what, even if peacekeepers came or... or if the unspeakable happened, he wasn't just going to let her go at it alone. He was going to be there.
Addy shook her head slowly, biting her shredded lip. "Coop," she mumbled, resting her chin on her knees. "What if they do find us? They're going to kill us and I don't want to die. I don't want to die, what if they find us?" She trusted Coop wholeheartedly, and was sure that he wouldn't allow anything to happen, but there were some things he couldn't prevent. Peacekeepers were one of those. Addy was by no means a terrified little girl, but she was a goody two shoes, and breaking rules horrified her.
Despite all his confidence, even Coop had to admit that being found out was something that he couldn't prevent. But throughout all his time here, he hadn't been killed and he thought that meant something. He thought that meant he was doing alright. Shaking his head, he made his way over to where Addy was sitting and sat down beside her, hoping the crate wouldn't break. Taking her hand for a minute, he looked into her eyes, "Hey. They're not going to find us and you're not going to die. I promise." He gave a little smile in reassurance, "If you really want though, we can leave."
Addy bit her lip, her shaking hands clutching at his tightly. She didn't want to be a buzzkill, but when it came to rules, Addy didn't break them. "But..." She mumbled helplessly. She'd admit she wanted to go, but she didn't think he did. And Addy didn't like to put herself before others in situations like this. "I don't think you want to go..." She whispered, her long hair falling into her eyes, which had fallen away from his to stare down at their hands. Hers were shaking slightly, dwarfed by his big, steady hand, to which she hung onto tightly. Not that Addy was anything near afraid of everything, but she did have much more caution than her friend.
Coop held her hand tight, attempting to keep her steady. He could understand her fear and feel the paranoia she had clawing at his own gut, but he was forcing himself to stay calm -- for her sake. "Hey, it's fine. You want to leave, I'm okay with it." Noticing the way her hair had fallen in front of her face, he slowly lifted his hand and tucked it behind her ear for her, trying to make it come off as nothing more than a friendly gesture by giving her a smile. "Besides," He started again, withdrawing his hand, "I'm so loud, I'm sure the entire district misses my big mouth." He gave a little laugh, obviously trying to lighten the mood. Hopefully he'd done his job.
Addy bit her lip, hardly aware of the fact that her fingernails had made likely painful marks in his hand. She wouldn't be surprised if he had bruises the next day--okay, maybe that was exaggerating it a little. "You're sure we won't get caught?" she asked softly, her eyes glued to the floor. Maybe it wasn't particularly easy for her to say that, but she didn't see any reason why leaving would be necessary. Not immediately, at least. Coop wouldn't let anything happen... Right? It went against all of her instincts to think that. She allowed a small smile at his words, though she didn't laugh. "Maybe..."
Eyes drawing down to his own hand, Coop just watched as her fingernails dug into his skin, but didn't say a word. He wasn't going to complain about it; that wasn't something he'd ever do. "I'm sure." He told her, attempting to catch her eye. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, alright?" He meant that with utmost certainty in what he would do. She wasn't going to get hurt, let alone killed. Though Coop definitely had selfish tendencies, he'd go to the ends of the earth to ensure that that never ever happened. He'd protect her, no matter what.
Addy bit her lip, nodding slowly. "If you're sure," she mumbled after a moment. If Coop was sure, that meant he wouldn't allow anything to happen. Coop may be selfish, but she trusted him wholeheartedly. Maybe that wasn't the wisest idea, but who else did she have to trust? Her parents? They were never around. Her siblings? All dead in the games. Addy didn't have anyone else to trust; it was only Coop. And if she couldn't trust him, who could she trust? She trusted him more than she did herself, half the time. "Alright," she mumbled after a moment, her eyes finally tearing away from the floor.
Compared to Addy, Coop knew that he didn't have as many hardships as he could have. None of his immediate family, not his siblings nor his parents, had ever been entered in the games and, though life was never really easy within the districts, his life hadn't really been hard. The only thing he'd ever had to worry about we're the stares he'd occasionally gained from the peacekeepers roaming the area. It was obvious just by looking at Coop that held resentment and rebellion deep inside him, as much as he tried to hide it. Nodding a bit as Addy agreed to stay for a little long, Coop tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. For a moment, he attempted to change the subject, "I think the only thing we have to worry about is this building falling on top of us." After a second, when he realized it probably wasn't a good idea to bring up the instability of the warehouse, he shook his head. "Kidding."
Addy wasn't at all disturbed by his joke about the building following. That was something she could calculate in her head, something mathematical that she could see and not worry about. The angles of the walls, columns, ceiling, and the way it all came together. Though the building was old, it wasn't going to fall in on them without good reason. "That won't happen," Addy answered confidently as her eyes flitted around, taking in information. It was no secret that Addy was a genius, nor that she was rather skilled at math, so she had no problem announcing this statement. "See the slope of the columns? The ceiling shouldn't be too heavy for them, and the walls hold it all up." Simplified, at least.
There was one thing that Addy had: her smarts. Maybe she wasn't strong and maybe she wouldn't always be able to defend herself, but she was smart enough to realize what could be done to avoid having to do all that entirely. She could manipulate things to the way she wanted them, change them to how they should be, not how the world had seen fit. In many ways, Coop thought this was much more important that his physical attributes and charm. At least she was smart about it and not reckless like he was. Nodding his head to her observations, Coop gave a smirk. "And it looks like you've proved me wrong again, Addy."
"When," Addy answered with a light, teasing lilt to her voice. "Have you ever been right in the field of knowledge?" A smile played faintly, shyly on her lips, though no one would ever see much of it. "I know, proving you wrong is normal." She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her small chin atop them. This time, not in fear or sadness, but rather a simple need for a place to rest her chin. The one thing she liked about herself was that intelligence that she carried wherever she went, compensating for the lack of strength she had. Addy may not have been strong, but she could win a fight if need to. Easily using her opponent's weight as an advantage. It all came down to math: trajectory, angle, lines. Simple.
"It's just been these past two times that I've been wrong." Coop countered, knowingly lying to both her and himself. "All the other times, I've been right. God, Addy. Look who's cocky now." Though the words might have been harsh had they been said by some other individual, this was Coop and nearly everything he said was tinted in a joking manner. If anyone was cocky, it was him. That was just a give in. Anyone and everyone who had ever met him already knew that Cooper had a big head. And, well, he flaunted that like no tomorrow. Perhaps it was a part of his charm or perhaps it was just an obnoxious attribute of his. But whatever it was, it was Coop's defining trait. He wouldn't be himself without it.
"And the two times before that..." Addy added pointedly. "As well as the two times before that, and before that, and before that, and dating back to when we first met." She offered the faintest of teasing smiles, her fingers twisting mindlessly into the soft fabric of her pants, tapping her toes mindlessly. "Coop?" she asked softly after a moment, her eyes closing in thought. Addy had never particularly cared for her eyes, so bright, abnormal in the district of dark hair and dark eyes. Keeping them closed not only made it easier to think, but hid part of what made her an aberration from the world. When the reapings came, that's when Addy did her most non academic thinking. Thinking of possibilities. "What if I do get reaped?"
The smile that had manifested on Coop's lips as she spoke all but shattered the moment that she said his name. For a moment, he hoped that she was going to say something hopeful, that this wasn't going to be what he had feared was going to come up again. Of course though, the question was asked. Eyes immediately falling to the floor, Coop took a long while before he could even begin to answer the question she'd inquired of him. "Y-you won't." He answered, confidence fading. He knew he was going in circles with his constant refusals, but he didn't know what else to say. He was trying hard to distract himself and not think of that. This was the only way he knew how to keep himself going.
"But what if I do? What if you do? What if, against all odds, we both do? Coop, I want an answer!" Addy bit her lip, her voice strangely level considering the anger and frustration she felt deep down in the pit of her stomach. Anger at the way the games worked, frustration at not knowing answers; Addy had become far too accustomed to knowing how things would turn out. But the Games weren't something that could be mathematically calculated. Okay, she had a given probability of success, a larger chance of getting reaped. But then there were still Careers to take into account. There was absolutely no way she'd make it out alive. Right? They both knew she'd get reaped eventually. It was only a matter of time.
Coop's voice, unlike hers, was far from level. It was quaking, unsure of what he should be telling her. Each moment, another thought popped into his mind to where he couldn't decide on one definite answer. He didn't know what he was doing; he didn't know what he could say to reassure her like she'd reassured him so many times. He just didn't know anything anymore. After a long minute of just staring blankly at his shoes, Coop shook his head again. "Then I'll do something, alright?" His voice had taken on a quietness, uncertain of whether he wanted her to hear this or not. "I'll do something."
"What?" Addy asked softly, biting a shaking lip. This time, she couldn't keep her voice from trembling slightly. Unlike most, she was quite good at keeping her cool--pretending to do so, at least. "What would you do? I know you're good at thinking on the spot, but you can't outsmart the Capitol. Coop, tell me what you'd do. I don't want you to get killed just because you're stupid." She laced her fingers through his once more. That had always been one of Addy's worse features. She was far too clingy for her own good, too dependent on things of materialistic value. "'Something' isn't going to work."
"I..." For once in his life, Coop didn't actually know what to say. His words had just completely died on his tongue, leaving him out of both breath and confidence. Swallowing shakily, he just continued on with whatever else he could even think to say as her fingers laced through his, "I'd find some way to help you." His eyes glanced up, catching on hers for a moment as he wondered what she would say. Everything he was telling her was truthful; no matter what, he would find some way to get her out of there or to help or to do anything that he possible could. She wouldn't get harmed. He would see to it.
Addy knew Coop had nothing to say. She knew him well enough to be able to tell that, for once, no words were rolling off the tip of his tongue. Which told her that he likely didn't have a clue in the slightest as to what he'd do. This worried her, though she couldn't say she was surprised. Coop was a person to act on impulse, not because he thought about things. Addy had hoped he'd say he had an idea of what he'd do, though she knew he wouldn't. Coop didn't think things through; they both knew it. "I hope so," she answered softly after a moment.
---------It had been a few days after the talk Cooper and Addy had had in the abandoned warehouse. Minutes had blended into hours and hours had blended into days, and before anyone knew it, the reapings were upon them, standing there as a dull promise of misfortune within the districts. Of course, everyone had seen the preparations they were making: the arrival of the escort and the increasing number of peacekeepers within the area. And yet, it always seemed so far away, as though it wouldn't actually happen this year. Coop knew that was what they were all hoping for, that maybe there would be a miracle and the games would be canceled this year. But that wasn't going to happen; they all knew it. And so, the days passed by in a lonely obliquity, never once slowing down for the children of the districts.
District three in particular was taking it hard. Things were going by so slowly for the district of technology and at most times, Coop thought he might lose his mind from the constant fear and depression caressing the land like a slick rain. It was this way every year, he knew, but it felt worse this year. Almost like something bad was going to happen. But despite his fears, Coop kept all his heartache, all his anxiety penned up inside him, fearful that it might worry those around him if he were to let it lose. He couldn't do that to Addy. Not with the games this close.
It was on the day of the reaping, however, that things really started to crack for the arrogant boy of a modest seventeen. He'd survived this more than his fair share of times and, to be honest, he didn't know how well he would fare in this entire event. Getting picked was one thing, but it was another thing entirely to face the actuality of the games. It was another thing entirely to realize that death would be staring you in the face the moment that you rose onto that shining, metal platform and the countdown began. That was one thing he didn't even want to think about.
So as he was ushered along like all the other young ones from his home, Coop tried to keep his bearings. A crooked smile and a hearty hope that he wouldn't have to go down swinging this year was something that the boy could at least hold onto. All he had to do was have hope, for it could be a powerful thing. He just had to hope that it wouldn't be his own name being drawn from the glass bowl on stage; he just had to hope that Addy would be safe, that he wouldn't have to lose her.
No matter how awful it sounded and no matter how terrible he thought himself for thinking such things, Coop just had to pray that someone else would be going into that arena. He hoped that someone else would die in his place.
Addy, who'd always been looked upon as a rather fearful fellow, found herself caught in the eye of her own self induced storm. She felt no fear as she dressed in her nicest dress--which was trashy compare to Capitol standards, though fancy by those of her district--nor as she rode in a large, fancy car designed by her father toward the place her life would fall apart. She'd been mentally preparing herself for this day. She was ready. In theory.
Someone was supposed to be ready for things after they'd thought about it enough, planned for it enough, thought out every little step they'd make and every little word they'd say. By then, it'd be instinctive, right? Something that haunted Addy's every nightmare would be instinctive after so many repetitions. She shouldn't feel fear. Fear was just worry about the outcome, and Addy already knew what the outcome of this would be. She'd go home, or she'd die. Simple as that. Even with her false reassurances, though, she found herself shaking, trembling, pale skin hidden by the blonde mop of hair that was falling out of the knot she'd tied it in while anxiously tinkering earlier.
Addy kept chanting to herself: I'll be back, I'll be back. Her mantra, of course, was mental, though the effect was the same. It was a reassurance like no other; one from herself that said with certainty that she'd be okay. Whether that be winning the games to come back to Coop, or simply letting someone get reaped in her place. Addy would be back.
Though she was a girl of high morals, like everyone else, Addy found herself hoping someone would die in her place. Someone that wasn't her.
Was that wrong?
Calliope looked over the crowed, watching the children of district three come in. This was her second year escorting this district, and she had to say that it was one of her favorites. The kids from one and two were so cocky and arrogant that it made her head heart. While on the flip side, the tributes from twelve and eleven were far too sweet, it made it hard to part with them. She believed that three was a good balance of the two extremes. This theory had yet to prove itself wrong. As the clock hit twelve, all the potential tributes were here, all grouped together at the required time. After smoothing down her dress, which mark you was pointless, Calliope stood up from her chair on the side of the stage and walked straight up to the microphone. After tapping the microphone a few times, she waited for them all to silence themselves, thankfully that didn't take long. "Hello, and happy hunger games," she started, already smiling. "My golly, it has come quickly, no?" It was only a theoretical question, so she was satisfied when the mostly maintained silence. "Before we start, I shall play a clip from the Capitol." And with that, the screen lit to life behind her.
---------------
Too quickly. The games had come too quickly. As Coop found himself shuffled into line with every other boy of his age division, he soon found his eyes wandering around the crowd, looking for that one person whom he searched for every year. If one weren't knowing of how he was around close friends, many would likely assume that he was just gazing about, that same confident look in his eyes. However, if Addy were to see him in this moment, it would be obvious to her that he was worried. Worried that he'd lose her in this crowd and in these games. They had to go through this every year: the same set up, the same hostess, the same mentor gloating up on stage. Different tributes and different deaths.
The mantra that was playing on the screen was also the same. He'd seen it so many times that Coop swore that he could quote it by heart. So many times the words had been beaten into his head that it was annoying to him now. He simply was done hearing these words of depression and these pledges of victory by the Capitol. All Coop wanted was to get this done. After someone else had been picked and two of his classmates had been shipped off to their deaths, he could get back to his life. He and Addy could live out the rest of their years together until the day they both died a natural, peaceful death. In his sleep, that was how Coop wanted to go. No blood bath, no weapons, nothing of the like. Just him alone in his chambers.
But his name was put in there more times than he'd like to admit. The odds weren't in his favor, not to mention Addy's. As much as he tried to convince himself they were and as much as he wanted to believe that she had a chance, Coop was no idiot. The odds weren't ever in either of their favor.
Thirty more minutes. That's all it would take for this to be over. The video, her father's speech--she swore it got shorter with each passing year--and the actual reaping. The part people, including herself, were nervous about. Addy was one of those unlucky anxious souls. She was horrified of getting reaped, leaving her best friend alone, forcing him to watch as she was slaughtered for other people's entertainment. It was only thirty minutes. That wasn't long at all, when put into perspective. She'd been alive for much, much longer than that, so why did thirty minutes between the actual reaping and that moment right then seem so far apart? Was it because of the weight that this one half hour put on the rest of her life? Most likely.
Addy had never been a selfish soul; she wasn't worried about dying. She didn't care. Everyone died eventually, she wasn't horribly upset about that. Death was a fact people had to be accustomed to, Addy would stare death in the face without fear--okay, not really true, but the more she said it, the truer it'd be. Addy would be horrified, but she wouldn't be upset about dying. It was science. Life.
She was worried about making the one person she loved watch as the life drained from her eyes. It'd happen eventually. The likelihood was... High, with her family history.
Seeking out comfort, Addy scanned the crowd anxiously for her best friend. "Coop, Coop, Coop," she mumbled. "Chicken Coop..."
Calliope stood up on stage, her back remaining to the screen. It's not like she hasn't seen this video enough times already, and as much as she liked Snow, the video was boring. Certainly he knew that the districts watch this every year, why not play something a little more.... Encouraging, festive, but still get the message across. She wasn't the president though, and she didn't doubt this. As soon as the video came to an end, Calliope looked up at the crowd once again, the attention on her. As much as she loved standing in front of people, talking to people, and her job as an escort, she was always queazy about getting in front of the districts. Why? She couldn't tell you. It wasn't that Calliope was afraid or intimidated, most certainly not. Maybe it was that she felt like they were all judging her, but that was a crazy thought.
Smiling over at the crowd, she clasped her hands together in a single clap. Most might think her smile was fake, but it was real. What was she so happy about? Maybe not the games, but something more.
"And now a few words from the major," Calliope concluded before giving the mayor the floor. She went and sat in her chair at the side of the stage, knowing it wouldn't be too much longer until she had her tributes for the year.
No, her victor, for the year.
As soon as expected, the speech was over. Calliope returned to her place on the stage right in front of the ladies bowl. Her fingers reached in and clasped a single piece of silky paper. "And our female tribute this year is," she said strongly and paused for the effect. "Addison Melissa Zoetisch."
Addy breathed a sigh of relief before Calliope said the name. It was a brief streak of confidence; it couldn't be her. Bad things didn't happen to good people, and she was a good person. It won't be me.Poor girl Addy thought when she heard the name. It couldn't be her. She had hardly been paying attention, to be honest. Addy was trying hard to be quite confident in that. She did her best to appear indifferent.
The center fell silent, before the kid behind her jammed an elbow into her ribs. And them Addy realized what the name had been. Addison Melissa Zoetish,
It was her. It was her. Despite her best efforts to stay out of it, it was still her.
And she hadn't even found Coop's eyes in her last moments as a free soul.
Addy winced softly, but put one foot in front of the other, left then right, left then right. She'd rehearsed this so many times to make sure that she'd appear composed upon the other tribute's watching of the reapings, yet she found it impossible to remain composed. It was impossible. She was going to die, and everyone would be required to watch it happen. Coop would watch her die.
Left then right. Left then right. Addison Melissa Zoetish.
And she still couldn't find Coop.
Calliope scanned the crowd for Addison, even before seeing her, Calliope knew she had beauty. Just the name had a ring to it. Addison Melissa Zoetish. Oh! And the mayors daughter, how interesting. Seeing the crowd part, and the girl walk up, Calliope felt a ping of jealous. Addison had blonde hair, Calliopes favorite. The district three stylist would have fun! Though, she felt sympathy upon laying eyes on the girl, who, trying her best, still looked petrified. Maybe a normal person wouldn't be able to notice, but after years of doing this, Calliope could.
She understood what it was to fear. Calliope sent Addison a small, sad smile before waving her up onto the stage.
Addy took a deep though imperceptible breath before climbing the steps slowly. Volunteer, volunteer, please. Someone, just say it. Someone save her. If Macey were alive, she'd volunteer in a heartbeat. Addy knew Coop would, too, and she was thankful he wasn't able to. Someone had to volunteer; this was a reality Addy wouldn't allow. She'd prepared herself so much for this day, but that didn't mean it had to come. Addy couldn't help but glare slightly at the escort. Why couldn't she have said someone, anyone else's name? This time and all the times before. Her brother, Macey. All of it.
Coop. Oh Jesus, where was he? She wasn't able to process the though of being here without seeing the horrified expression on his face. That's what would make this all tie back together in the end.
Her blue-green eyes scanned the crowd quickly. To anyone, it would just look perceptive, which was good. Coop, though, would see that she was horrified. And though he was unpredictable, she had a sinking suspicion as to what was coming.
Calliope waited for Addison to accompany her up on the stage before going over to the boys dish, seeing that there were no volunteers. Not that she could say she was surprised, not many volunteered from three. It was much more common in one, two and four. Though, she was just able to catch Addison's slight glare as she approached. Though, it did not faze her, it was even expected. She has gotten worse, more violent tributes. Her hand reached down into the boys bowl and clasped her newly manicured hands on a slip of paper. The only sound was the click of her golden pumps as she traveled to the mic. Carefully unfolding the slip of paper, breaking the seal, she read the name aloud. "Jackson Grant Warnth," she announced, looking up at the crowd through her long eyelashes.
Maybe this was the name of her victor. There was one every district she has escorted but two that happened to be outside districts. So this must have been good luck.
--------
Coop nearly had a heart attack. The moment that the woman reached into the glass bowl before her, his head swarmed with possibilities. He thought about how horrible it would be if it truly was Addy's name, if she had to go into the thing he'd known she'd always been fearful of. How was she going to make it? How was he going to deal with losing his best friend? Though he wanted to say that he didn't care about what happened to him in this entire thing, Coop really did. He didn't want to lose her now; not when there was so much else left to live for. Yet even though he thought all these terrible things, there was only one that he wished to be true: that the name was Addy's. It would be another girl's someone that he didn't know; someone that could take care of herself and win through this entire thing. And yet, as the slip was grasped between delicate, porcelain fingertips and pulled from the bowl, he couldn't help but have second thoughts.
Then it happened. The name he'd never wanted to hear in this location rang through the air like an afterthought, hitting him completely a second after it had been spoken. Heart dropping and breath stopping, Coop found himself in a state of eternal shock, the look on his face one of sheer dumbfounding. How could this have happened? Stumbling, he took a step forward out of reflex, eyes catching on Addy just a little ways away. All he could see was her back as she made her way up the stage and the boy found himself wanting nothing more than to follow her. To help her in any way that he could. And so, like the boy he was, Coop actually tried to follow in his little trace of disarray. It wasn't long before the peacekeepers stopped him and shoved him back into place, just another piece in this game they lived in.
Before he knew it, Coop's eyes were drawing upwards, meeting Addy's almost instantly. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that she wouldn't be able to see him in this ocean of people, but he was still hoping. Or rather, maybe he wasn't. Though he'd been trying just a little while ago to keep up the facade that he was completely and utterly confident in himself and the outlook of this reaping, it was clear to everyone who looked at him that Coop was in fact not okay. He didn't have that smile on his face and his eyes weren't alight with amusement. No, he was beaten down to a pulp, his confidence shattered with the speaking of one simple name. One simple name was all it had taken to break him.
Time passed by in a perpetual state of calamity as Cooper watched what was occurring. He couldn't keep his eyes off of his friend as the escort reached down into the second bowl. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Coop could vaguely hear his thoughts wishing that it was him. He could help somehow. He could find a way to get the both of them out of here in one piece. Maybe he could even help the both of them without having his name drawn. What were the odds that no one would see him if he ran up on stage and just ran away with her now? Judging by all the eyes and the millions of cameras lining every nook and cranny, Coop was betting it wasn't good. Still though, Coop thought he'd rather get himself killed trying to save her than standing around doing nothing. Now he didn't want to pass away quietly and in his sleep. She wouldn't be there; she wouldn't have that option.
Perhaps it was this fear of being alone that made Coop do what he did, or maybe it was the blind stupor of faith that he'd found himself entranced in. Whatever it was, Coop's next move was a big one, he could almost see that; the way his feet moved forward and the way that he didn't care about the peacekeepers attempting to keep him in line as the next tributes name was called. He knew the boy, had gone to school with him for some time. He'd been a grade younger than him, but now all that didn't seem to matter much. It was all a lifetime away. This was just a new one starting over again. Either that, or it was the same one ending. Almost like getting older and watching the tides wash away the days a person had left until their expiration date, nothing in the past seemed to matter. And likewise, nothing in the future seemed all too bright either. It was all just over for him, but for Addy, he was going to make it something. She was going to live.
Building up a breath, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I volunteer." It was quiet at first, but it certainly got the attention of the people around him. Heads turned and by the looks in their eyes, Coop could tell they hadn't been expecting anyone to step up and save the boy from his death. Coop hadn't been either. The peacekeepers beside him also seemed to understand what was happening, their weapons lowering from him. He'd hardly noticed they'd had guns trained on him due to his little stunt earlier. He supposed he'd been too in shock to realize it was even something to be worried about.
People parted soon enough as he pushed his way towards the walkway leading to the stage. Once again, standing there in the clear with his eyes burning with determination, he spoke his words, this time loud enough that everyone in the square could hear. He made it a point to keep his eyes trained on Addy, not on the boy who must have been sighing in relief and quivering in his shoes. Coop didn't care about him. This was all for his friend -- this was all for her.
At first there was silence as the name was called, then just like every other year, the crowd parted through to allow the chosen tribute through. It was so quiet that you could have hear a pin drop. The boy came up the stairs doing what every tribute did; trying keep a strong, calm composure. Which, with him, didn't work too well. Looking at him, Calliope concluded that he wasn't eye catching, definitely not a lady's man. Calliope was thirty and single, so she was allowed to make these observations. And that's all they were, observations. With the silence starting to break, Calliope was about to announce the tributes when a voice, loud and clear cut her off. I volunteer. And a boy, who had previously been held back by peacekeepers for whatever reason, was released to enter the stage. Relieved, the other boy had fled into the crowd because once you volunteered, there was no going back. He was officially cut loose.
Now this would most certainly be an interesting game. A mayors daughter and a volunteer; from the same district. Judging by the look on the boys face as he pushed up the steps, he knew the female tribute: Addison. Yes, this would be an interesting game for sure. The most exciting part? She was the one to escort this district, Calliope knew she had made the right choice selection three as her district.
Guiding the boy over to the center of the stage, Calliope handed him the mircophone which was shorter than it should have been since he was much taller than her. "It seems as though we have a volunteer on ours hands," she started enthusiastically. "Why don't you tell us all your name?"
~~
"Coop-" Addy breathed, horror twisting her expression. All the childhood memories, joyful and carefree, were suddenly tainted with terror. He couldn't have volunteered. Neither of them would ever be happy again; only one could get out, at most.
He had volunteered. Addy, for once, couldn't restrain herself from speaking. "Coop," she mumbled, reaching helplessly for his hand. No tears, those would come later. No fear, no anger. She'd take that out on him later. How could he do this? There was no way they'd both make it out okay now...
"Why?" Her words were near silent, only loud enough for him. Even with the multitudes of microphones and cameras around, she wasn't worried about being heard. No one would hear, she knew those devices too well. She knew this whole thing too well. Unfortunately.
Confidence: that was all Coop project as he climbed the steps to the stage, his breaths coming out in huffs. To anyone watching him, he would look no more than a boy taking his rightful place in the games, almost like a career who had done this out of pure pride for his district. He looked like he was prepared for both the best and the worst at the same time, as though he wasn't freaking out internally. Everything about this situation was wrong and for a moment, Coop let himself believe this was a dream. He was asleep in his bed, dreaming of something awful that he'd soon wake up from. It was only a nightmare, no more than that. Soon enough, he'd be right back in the warehouse with Addy, joking like they used to before all this happened -- before she was called and he volunteered.Being guided by the woman who was destined to be the unfortunate pair's escort, Coop let out a breath before the microphone was handed to him. This almost seemed like the moment of truth, the moment he let everyone know just what kind of an idiot he was. 'A pretty big one.' The memory of bickering with Addy the other day in the abandoned warehouse caused him pain as he looked out at the crowd. All eyes were on him and for his own good, he flashed a smile. Though it seemed genuine in the moment, it was quite empty. Happy was not a word he could use to describe himself as in this moment.
"Cooper." The boy spoke, voice radiating anything but the fear he was feeling. "Cooper West." He'd had to lean down a bit to speak fully into the microphone and he now stood straight, giving the entire district that smirk of his that he'd learned to master over the years. They all knew him for it; they all knew him as that one arrogant kid who thought he was like a blessing from above. Perhaps they didn't know him as someone kind enough to step up in the place of someone else and perhaps they didn't know just how much he cared for his friend, but it didn't matter. He'd smiled and Coop was just hoping that was enough to save himself -- even if not entirely.
The smile on Coop's lips had stayed until he heard the words spoken from the other being on the stage. It faltered for a good moment upon hearing her voice, but he forced himself to put it back on a minute later. He wouldn't even look at her for fear that he would feel himself break inside. No, he wasn't going to let himself crumble like this. He was going to be strong for the both of them no matter what. Weakness wasn't an option anymore. It never had been.
-----
Calliope was beginning to wonder if this boy had been planning on volunteering for these games before today. The way he carried himself, and his voice projected accross the area so confident and strong he may not even needed the microphone. Cooper seemed so confident in front of all these people; like a career she realized.
Taking the microphone from him, she clapsed their shoulders softly. "Our two tributes for the Hungers Games this year!" she announced proudly, her eyes scanning the crowd one last time before ushering them through the heavy doors that led into the Justice building. Once in here, the only way they would see that plaza again. was to return. Now That Calliope was thinking about it, it was somewhat sad. Her mind didn't linger on this for long, quickly replaced by excitement.
Turning to her tributes, she decided to give them a proper introduction. "I'm Calliope, escorting for now nine years. Any questions, please have no hesitation to confront me," she said, knowing that the kids were tuning her out. Its what usually happened, but it was always worth a shot to relieve tension. Not that it always worked anyway.
"You will each have time to say goodbye to your family's, a set time will be assigned, as you should know, before we head out onto the train," Calliope went on, leading each if them to their own rooms which were quickly guarded by peacekeepers.
((Ill reply tomorrow before camp ^_^ glad this is picking up again! <333 love you))
((Alrightio :3 I'm glad too. Love you toooo! <3 ))
((the next post was Coop but I'll just go ahead and do it for you and follow it with Adds.))
Things hadn't been going by exactly smoothly. While things weren't supposed to be wonderful as is, nothing seemed to be going right at all. The goodbyes with Coop's family had been short and sweet, nothing more than a hug from his father and a few sobbing embraces from his mother. Coop had obliged to what he was supposed to do -- he returned their gestures in turn with a reassuring smile on his face -- but it was obvious that he'd been detached through the entire thing. He loved this parents, the both of them, but they'd never been the closest to him like they were supposed to be. Like so many other kids in the districts, his parents weren't exactly what was acceptable in the old society. They didn't really comfort him when he was down and more often than not, he avoiding them completely. It was obvious when one wasn't always wanted.
But now, far away from his mother and father, Coop felt more at ease. Of course, not as much as he would have been had he never entered into this predicament, but he could honestly say that he was more relaxed than he had been a moment ago. Most of that, however, was due to the train. If they were all this nice, then Coop definitely loved trains. Hell, he would even want to conduct one if he -- no, they made it out alive. It was so nice, furnished with things he'd never laid eyes on before. Delicate dishes lined the various counters and a million little details struck his eyes. Everything was more elaborate than anything he'd seen before. Not even dreams could compare to this. As he gazed upon it all, an exasperated sigh of a curse word escaped his lips.
One couldn't say that Coop was good at holding his tongue.
Addy's goodbyes had been near nonexistent; a simple nod from her father, though there were a million words said in it. A million words he'd never said and never meant. It was the usual drill between them. They hardly spoke, so Addy wasn't really upset or surprised. She'd expected to have to say temporary goodbyes to Coop, but any goodbyes now would be permanent. At least one of them would die in the arena. The only person she would have actually said goodbye to would be Coop, and she'd expected to see him again. Addy had expected to see her friend again, and then live their lives out as best friends, without the fear of the games. That was what she had wanted.
Who was he to take that away from her?
Sitting at the delicate, perfectly set table, Addy had never felt more out of place. She couldn't even look Coop in the eye, not after volunteering. Now they'd never be the same again. Had she really expected things to be the same, though, after she'd won the games and come back to him? Had she expected things to not change? She would have killed, and he would've watched it happen. He would've seen her worst. Surely things were bound to have changed anyway.
She didn't expect it to be like this. Addy pursed her lips, fingernails digging half moons into her palms. He'd taken their friendship away from them both.
Now, for sure, things would never be the same.
