an incident with a pink kitty cat

[phox crodin edenclaw]

Current outfit

Phox stared at the bag on the ground through the window. The curtains of the house were tied away from the glass, so that light would shine into the room. He sighed, and then inserted the key into the doorknob and twisted it. After opening the door, he stood with his hand on the key for a moment longer, before raising to use a voice not appropriate for indoors.

"Constantine? Constantine!" He shouted, and then twitched his head awkwardly towards the staircase, looking upwards at nothing in particular. No response came, and so he shut the door quite loudly, and picked up the bag on the floor, chucking it into an open closet before closing the door to said closet with a Converse wearing shoe. His keys were then discarded on a glass table beside the door. He put his hands in his pockets, and stood for a moment trying to decide what to do.

After several seconds, he hurriedly marched up the stairs, and practically jumped through the closed doors of his sister's room.

"Haaahhh...!" He yelled, pointing. He trailed off and put his hand down when he realized that Constantine was in fact, not occupying the room he had unceremoniously burst into, and he retreated through the mahogany door again, closing it carefully, a hint of embarrassment obvious in the way he was now carrying himself.

He walked down the hall to another bedroom. One they didn't talk about. One that would have been Alice's. His walk was slow and sad, and he stepped up to the door quietly before placing his ear to the wooden form.

Light sobbing came from the other side, the kind that is always the after affect of the rain or even worse, a sign of the oncoming storm. Phox slowly turned the knob, and stepped into the dark room.

Picture's of their dead sister adorned the walls, carefully placed with care along every wall until they looked artfully perfect, just as Alice always had in life. This day was the only one out of the year that either of the remaining siblings could be found here. It was the beginning of the end all over again for Constantine, a memorial and horrific reminder of the day she had lost not one, but both of her siblings, with only one allowed to return. A reminder of what caused her father to leave or disappear or... or whatever else that could have happened. The reaping.

Of course, there was no way Phox was leaving her for good this time. Not even one tiny chance. Gone for the duration of the Games, and then back again. But it always seemed to drag on for the both of them. Phox knelt beside the girl, hugging her close. Apparently, the soft sobs he heard beyond the door were the signs of the storm coming, as she broke into true tears as soon as he made a move to comfort her, replacing the glossy coat of liquid over her eyes with overflowing puddles of tears. He sighed, knowing her pain, but he had blocked it out, having had to deal with it for a much more important reason than just not wanting to feel the pain anymore. He had needed to get over his sister's death to stay alive so his family would only have one child to grieve for.

"Should I leave for a while or do you want me to stay?" He asked, his voice a Northern drawl that most would say he picked up from an odd Capitol citizen, who would probably identify it as the speak of a historical place called London who's existence was questionable but placed around the tidbits of history accessible.

"Just... I'll be okay in a bit," she responded sadly, and he nodded, standing and walking to the door after placing a familial kiss to her temple. He closed the door and stood for a moment, feeling the sadness hit him like a wave. He groaned and tipped over until his forehead hit the brilliant red walls that he despised, thanks to their... funny... closeness to the color of blood. He closed his eyes to prevent those images from flooding back, and then, after a few minutes, picked himself up and tried to pretend nothing was wrong. He put his hands back into his pockets and walked into the living room of the overly large home, and attempted to sit quietly on the cream white loveseat, but then felt jitters of anger overtaking him. He spotted a statue across the room, one of a particularly hideous pink kitten that he had always had a special dislike for, and with all his might, chucked the offending creature through the closed window with more than enough power to break the glass, and likely the cat as well. His anger taken care of, however brutally, he brushed his hands together and gave a blank look out the window, and then turned to pick up the telephone.

"Hello, maintenance please? Yes, this is Phox Crodin Edenclaw, I need a window fixed. Victor's Village, District Five. It had an incident with a pink kitty cat that needs taken care of. Which house? I think you'll be able to figure it out when you get here. It's the one with glass in the lawn, and little shards of the cat that broke it. As soon as possible please and thank you. Goodbye." And with that, he hung up the phone and flopped down onto the couch. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, thinking of how the maintenance people that had to repair his front window once a year every year since the sixty sixth Games must be tired of hearing the excuse "it had an incident with a cat" by now. But the excuse would still be used until the menacing creatures were rid of his pre-furnished living room, and so they would have to deal with it for another two years. Phox wondered what would be the next thing he would use to break the glass when the cats ran out.

Words: 1020

[minerva adrine iratus]

A cup of ice. Two tea spoons of sugar. One cup of orange juice. Six shots of the finest Capitol liquor. The Minerva Mid-Afternoon Mindbender. Thats what she had named it and she was quite proud of the clever name, maybe she would market it out to the other alcoholic victors one day. She snickered at the thought before continuing her creation. Minerva poured her concoction into the blender. She placed one hand over the top of it and began to blend the ingredients together. The end result was a slushy, sour smelling mess. Minerva haphazardly poured the foul elixir into a tall glass. She set the glass on the counter before rummaging through a cabinet and finding a yellow straw. She plopped the straw in and sighed in victory. Minerva had created her drink without a single mishap. Her usual drink making was much more hazardous and sometimes ended with a fire or bits and pieces of fruit and juice on the ceiling. Minerva sipped her drink before turning and leaving the seldom used kitchen.

The large victor's home was so quiet. Minerva had been only the residence for the better part of two years. The home had once had three occupants, still not a lot, but it was more than the single one that still roamed the halls. Minerva ran her hand along the smoothly painted walls of the hallway that lead to the stairs that would being her to second floor. The interior of the home was painted a nice white color. Minerva had always found the color soothing. Maybe the Capitol knew that the white would help keep the victors calm after their scarring events in the Games, though Minerva was unsure if the other victors' homes were white on the inside she had never really interacted with the other victors in District Five. The 58th Hunger Games victor had mostly kept to herself, preferring the radio, television and bitter taste of alcohol to the yapping of another human being. Minerva turned around a bend and found herself at the bottom of the large staircase. Gripping the dark wood handrail tightly, Minerva wobbled her way up the staircase, taking a sip from her drink every few steps.

Minerva triumphantly placed one foot down on the second floor. She had conquered the stairs. The yellow straw swung wildly around the circumference of the top of the glass as Minerva walked down the hallway to the right. The straw's wild ride was stop by Minerva catching it between her lips and drawing some liquid from it. The now slightly intoxicated victor found herself staring out a window at the end of the hallway and out into the front of her house. The victor's village was always so quiet and void of life but she liked it that way. No one to bother her. Minerva stood at the window for a second, before placing her drink down at her feet. She placed her hands on the window and pushed up. The window creaked and then shot up. The screen had long since been pushed out and was now somewhere in a trash heap. Minerva picked her glass up and placed it on the window sill. The victor peeked out of the window and found herself staring at a platform that was the roof above the living room on the first floor and extended to the porch. Minerva often sat out here. The outcropping of the roof got a wonderful breeze and it was something different than sitting on her porch or in her backyard.

She scurried out of the window and onto the roof before turning back and grabbing her drink. The wind was blowing quite lazily today. The spring air weaved its way across the rooftop and around Minerva. Above the treelike of the victor's village, Minerva could see the power plants. Their menacing figure blotching the potentially beautiful skyline. She was about to lay down on the roof and have a relaxing drink when a loud noise invaded the quiet village. Minerva shot up and let loose a surprised scream. The noise had come from the home just a little ways away. It sounded like someone had shattered a window. Minerva immediately took a long sip from her drink, leaving only a little bit left of the slush in the glass before crawling back into her window. Her feet stomped as she moved down the staircase. Unlike many other times, Minerva was actually dressed and she remembered her shoes when she exited the front door of her home.

The glass in her hand was finished by the time she reached the source of the noise. It was the residence of a man named Phox. Minerva had had very little interaction with the man. She stood for a moment outside of his home, staring at the glass on his front lawn and at the peculiar, broken statue that now rested there among the shards of glass. Minerva took a step towards the lawn.

"Excuse me." Minerva called out, hoping her voice would enter through the broken window and reach the owner of the home. "But you can't just go breaking windows whenever you damn well feel like it." This had not been the first time Minerva had heard the sound of glass breaking coming from this area either. "I expect an apology for disturbing my relaxing lay on my roof mister." Her words slurred as she rambled to Phox's home. She must have looked quite insane.

[phox crodin edenclaw]

When he heard a voice, he had to admit he was surprised. He hadn't really had much to do with any of the other victors before and was extremely surprised to observe the stumbling woman yell in to his home unceremoniously, empty glass in hand and accusations slurring about.

"Sorry," he said, standing up. He was more than a little embarrassed, although a little relieved. He had always figured people viewed him as the village crazy, always locked in his home except when there was a District or Capitol event. But as he observed he was more normal than he had originally thought, no influence of alcohol to make him so.

"Sorry..." he repeated, so quietly it was almost to himself rather than his unexpected guest, opening up the door and walking outside with his white Converse protecting him from the glass. He squinted up at the sun, hands in the pockets of his pants. He strode up to the woman, a look upon his face that could be taken one of two ways: apologetic or confused.

"I apologize for disturbing you. This is a particularly rough time for me and my sister." he said, clearly a little embarrassed, with maybe a bit of sadness mixed in. He looked up to the window of the empty room, fitting black curtains preventing a view of the inside. He worried for his sister for a moment, but the feeling went away after his mind reverted back to the fact that she would be fine in the morning after having her day to cry. She was always back to normal. Phox only hoped this wouldn't be any different, despite him having to leave to mentor one of this year's tributes soon. He briefly wondered what he would have to work with, but realized he needed to stay on the situation at hand. He broke a cat and a window in his front yard and attracted the attention of a neighbor, after all.

He extended a hand for the woman to shake, pretending not to notice the woman's clear intoxication.

"Minerva, correct?" he asked, already vaguely sure he was right. He remembered seeing the woman around the Victor's Village, and even had dull memories of the year of her victory. He was only eight when she had won, and she was obviously older than she was then, but he remembered bits and pieces of her time in the arena, nothing too specific. A name to a face and some minor remembrances.

[constantine mary edenclaw]

i was anxious

IT WAS BETTER JUST TO STAY IN BED

constantine was surprised to have even woken up that morning. the games were soon, and she absolutely despised watching the games. watching her older brother fight for his life was terrible. she practically was peeking through her fingers the whole time, or gripping onto her seat or hair during the whole process. what was even more overbearing was alice. she couldn't even think of her without crying or silently having a break down. it was so quick... her death. the terrible thing was that only one of them would have been able to come out. and yet another drastic thought was that her sister had taken her spot as tribute.

the red head tried very hard to shake the thought from her head as she circled her sister's room. looking at the various pictures and items that were her's when she was there... when she was alive. constantine couldn't handle it anymore. she burst into tears right there as she stared at her picture. she eventually sat on the ground sobbing and remembering that day when her father disappeared, when she lost bother of her siblings and the day she decided not to show up and take charge. she rubbed her eyes, trying to control herself from feeling the pain all over. she had felt it every day, every day this room was a terrible and sorrowful reminder of that day and most of all alice.

hatred, anger, and sorrow was all she could feel just then until her dear brother came into the room kneeling beside her and taking her in his arms. the comfort of him only made her cry even more. seeing the face of her brother, the victor and the one she lost that day only had made things even more overwhelming for her. she hoped so much that she could manage and control her emotions like phox had, but she couldn't. not then, not ever, until she learned to accept it. years later and she cannot even let it pass. she sometimes wondered if anyone ever did let it pass. she couldn't be the only one crying for the hundredth time about a lost loved one. that would be insane if she was.

when phox had asked whether he were to stay or leave her, she had no idea how to answer. "just..." she began, sniffling before going on. with a shake of her head she responded sadly, "i'll be okay in a bit." constantine was sure she would. she just had to get over herself and come back to the now. she was grown up now, she needed to gain some strength on her own. she knew that for a fact. how she were to do so? she wasn't sure, all she knew was that it wasn't going to be easy.

phox kissed her temple and left her, closing the door after him. she was left alone now, wiping the tears away and sucking up the courage to stand. constantine stood up shakily and forced some good, memorable thoughts to pop into her head. thoughts of the three of them before that dreadful day. those thoughts and memories normally helped even if it took hours to sink in. taking a few deep breaths, constantine walked out of the room, closing the door gently and holding onto the handle a bit longer than she should have. it was almost as if she were to let go, she was loosing her sister again. finally she came to her senses and let go, heading to her room.

as she walked down the hallway, she heard phox's voice. he was speaking to someone. a slight frown crossed her face as to who might be there speaking with her brother. constantine decided to see who it might be as she made her way to the room. the window was shattered and she spotted their neighbor and a fellow victor, minerva. she had seen the woman around, but never really spoke to her. constantine watched as her brother extended out a hand to minerva to shake as they stood by the window. her eyes traveled to the glass on the lawn. "what did you do?" she burst out and asked phox before the woman could answer him. she was curious to know, but now she had their attention, her arms crossing in front of her chest as she waited for an answer.

words - 728 notes - i'm joining! status - complete