And Maybe One Day, I'll Be Just Fine

My name is Aleks Ethon. I'm twenty one years old. I was raised in district two, but I never belonged there. I won the 70th Annual Hunger Games. I've grown used to my life, but that doesn't mean I won't stop trying to change how wrong it is. Warning: Some material, such as violence and sexual content, may not be suitable for those under 18. Proceed at your own risk.

[ladymargaerytyrell]

The Hunger Games Locations → District 2: Masonry

"Our nation would be nothing without District 2’s superb stonework. It builds and fortifies our cities and its citizens are known individually for their strength."

[aleks-ethon]

What's Left of the Beginning {Part One - Rebellion AU}

Fire:

Orange and yellow encompassing the corridor that he was so used to walking through. The entrance of the capitol building to the elevator, to the training center.

And now all he saw were ashes.

Clumps of gray powder that his foot could crush, did crush, as he proceeded. Underneath the soles of his boots; they made the faintest sound, more than likely wedged themselves into the curve of the rubber, making sure that when Aleks took them off he would see what he did; he would remember.

Not that he could forget.

When Ash left, Aleks rolled up the blueprints, tucked them into a backpack that he had prepared for this very occasion and exited the district two apartment for the last time. He rode upward to the seventh floor, told Lila that she needed to get out.

"It's happening, isn't it?" She asked.

Aleks nodded and his eyes drew a line from her face to her toes, just in case he never would see her again. But he noticed something along the way, something different: her stomach bigger, rounder.

She was pregnant.

It took all the energy he had to continue with his plan, but he knew that he had to, that if she wanted a better life for herself, Skylar, Amina, Lucas, and her unborn child, the war would have to begin.

He stepped forward with tears brewing, and wrapped his arms tightly around her back. He felt how tiny she was in comparison to him, how fragile she seemed. "Congratulations," he then whispered by her ear. "I just wish things were easier."

Lila understood. Or maybe Aleks hoped she did.

"How much time?"

"Fifteen minutes."

Her heel prepared to turn until Aleks' voice rang out again. "I love you." Words that only expressed a fraction of what he felt.

"I love you, too."

He waited a heart beat, maybe two, before disappearing into the elevator once more.

Magnus' room was next, on the twelfth floor, and as expected, the copper haired male was perched on the couch, watching the recap of the seventy fourth annual Hunger Games.

He turned his head as he heard Aleks' footsteps and his signature grin emerged. "Aleks!"

The older tried to smile, but the gesture appeared foreign to him, foreign when his entire inside was burning: a combination of fear, adrenaline, concern, enthusiasm. It was a deadly concoction bubbling behind his crystalline pupils, one unhidden to his lover.

"What's wrong?" He rose to his feet and his expression dimmed.

"I'm tired of waiting. I can't watch anymore of those kids die, Magnus. It's time. We have to go to the training center."

Nothing more was said; the pair rode the elevator to the bottom level where an abundance of weapons awaited. Aleks was quick to gather what he knew was necessary:

two swords crissed crossed over his back, tied with leather straps,

a bow and arrow swung over his shoulder,

a belt wrapped around his waist consisting, from left to right, a handgun, a knife, a grenade, poison, another knife, and another handgun.

To top it off, he grabbed a machine gun and balanced it quickly in his palms.

"You too," he then said to Magnus. "Use what you're comfortable with and stay close to me."

Aleks' voice was sharp; he was treading the line of transforming into a career or acting normal. There would be guards. There would people doing all they could to stop them. Once he exited those doors and set off his traps, his broadcasts, hell would arrive.

But he saw Magnus, struggling to pick a weapon of choice and the need to fade away vanished. A smile, a genuine one, rose to the top of his lips. "Take the bow. You were good with it in training." Sealed with a kiss, which concluded with a sigh. "Whatever happens... I love you, okay?"

Aleks headed to the entrance, kicked the door open, and as if on cue, the first explosion went off: shattered the windows, leaving an arrangement of glass on the floor, blew out the plaster from the wall along with the metal. An alarm wailed and the debris was illuminated in flashes of red.

He listened closely as noise began to envelope the building.

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

The racket continued. The foundation shook. Screams were heard.

But Aleks didn't care about all of that. He listened for how many bombs went off, how many of the contraptions that Ash figured out how to wire between his fingertips were successful.

"Ten," he exhaled through his mouth. All of them.

"Attention fellow citizens of Panem." It was Aleks' voice, only amplified on speakers, on the giant television that stood tall in the town square of the capitol. "For seventy four years, we allowed President Snow to break our families and kill our children, children with hopes, dreams, with the potential for greatness. For seventy four years, we allowed him to mold us into machines destined for death, poverty, or hopelessness. For seventy four years, we allowed President Snow to leave us in squalor, in fear of ourselves, those around us, and especially him. But today will be the last day that we allow his reign to continue. I am asking you to fight, to fight for a better future, to fight for a world where we can be free..."

A pause. "The rebellion has begun."

[aleks-ethon]

Fight Versus Flight {Rebellion AU}

War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future.

Nothing good ever came from war, or rather wars fought without a purpose. The rebellion having occurred seventy four years ago was indeed done with intention, a will for a better life. Unfortunately, all the citizens of Panem were granted was the death of innocent children.

Twenty three for every round of the games. One thousand, seven hundred, and two as of right now, as of the very moment that Aleks Ethon sat in the living room of his apartment watching the final canon fire.

It was a nostalgic kind of sound, a boom that echoed in the drums of his ears and transported him to his own arena. Covered in evergreen trees, grass that tickled at his ankles, before transforming into frigid winds, hardened ice, rivers of the deadliest of nature, and heat, overbearing, pore opening heat.

Aleks looked death in the face every day and even now as his chest rose and fell to accompany every inhale and exhale, he was curious. He wondered how he was alive, what granted him this purpose above everybody else: his friends that were much worthier than him, that could perhaps have done more with life at their fingertips than he.

They however were just spirits, memories in Aleks' mind and heart. He couldn't speak to them, ask them questions he pondered during the early hours of the evening.

Though if he had to infer he'd say there was a mutual point they all agreed on: he was special. That life would reveal what was necessary in a matter of time.

Aleks was curious to if that time was the conclusion of the seventy fourth annual hunger games: the blueprints of the hidden floor of the capitol building only an elevator's ride away, a map of security cameras, and access to the infamous broadcasting system: a network that transmitted footage from President Snow to each district, no house left unscathed.

What was stopping him in actuality? Why was he allowing more lives to slip into death, taken too young, too soon, where innocence could have been brewed into beauty?

He couldn't wait any longer. For he was growing restless; his thirst for change was coursing as easily through his body as blood was through his veins. Quick, involuntary, recycled to his heart which only swelled with desire.

A pressing of his palms against the couch led Aleks to rise to full height, beginning to pace, the soles of his shoes practically wearing into the laminated tile below.

Silence that ticked on by: the noise from the television - Caesar Flickerman's voice, a recap of the haunted house that took lives faster than other tributes had the ability to - a blur to the career. His mind was leading him elsewhere, to the people who remained that he cared about: Lila, Skylar, Amina, Magnus. They were worth fighting for. They were worth putting his life on the line for. If Lila and her children could have a future without the expense of their lives, if Magnus could have his family returned in proper care, then Aleks would have completed a fraction of his task.

And if he so happened to raise together the twelve districts of North America and kill their leader in the process, then, well, he would have succeeded in entity.

He just required a trigger.

"Aleks?" A man, whose honey eyes were focused on the older male. "Aleks?" He asked again, with more concern dripping from the edges of his words.

Aleks came to a halt, blue pupils meeting the other male's. "Ash, set up the bombs."

"I...what?"

"You heard me. This, everything, it's done."

"Y.. you're sure?"

"I have a few things to handle first, but yes. Tonight while everyone is celebrating, while everyone is watching the television, we make our move."

Ash offered a quick salute, straightened tendons greeting his forehead before he bent over and rolled up the blue prints Aleks had been examining earlier. "I need an hour."

"Perfect. We'll meet back here."

A quick nod and Ash hurried to the door, stopping only for a second in the entryway. "Hey Aleks... good luck."

"You too, soldier."

And then he was gone. The clock on the wall struck seven and as Aleks glanced at the hand placed upon the bold digit, he knew there was no turning back.

[demigodsdaily]

[aleks-ethon]

Photographed by Mark Abrahams. (x)

[ashleen-cassidy]

as the tributes fall - ash x aleks

[ashleen-cassidy]

aleks-ethon:

It was hard, of course, hearing the words from someone else’s mouth. “Both of your Tribtues.” It was one thing to see them die on screen. Ashleen had seen hundreds of Tributes fall over the years. But to know that she had been entrusted with bringing one of them home put a completely different light on the situation. She longed momentarily for the security of Sponsorship. Things had been easier, more dismissible. That wasn’t possible anymore.

But the Games had to go on. No one would mourn District Nine; for two years running they were out in the Cornucopia. In fact, they hadn’t had a successful Tribute since Carter Davis in the 72nd Games. Since then, there had been many Mentor shifts. Chances were many people were expecting her to also be a quick blip in the shit show that was District Nine’s Hunger Games experience.

She wanted to last. She wanted to be here.

Ash shook her head. “No, it’s not really a surprise. Both of them hit ones, and well, they follow a stunning line of Tributes from my District. But Nephon… He did well in training! How have you been doing with Sponsors?”

Ash had had no luck with Sponsors. Many of her friends, previously overjoyed with her Mentorship, were suddenly disenchanted once they saw her Tributes’ scores. Of course, she didn’t blame them. She would have done the exact same thing: doubled back on promises. Money was money, after all. One friend had tentatively promised a bowl of soup for Hazel if she made it to Day Three. Of course, that was no longer on the table.

“He’s gonna need the help. If that opening hasn’t scarred him, he’s going to have another thing coming once he starts exploring the house.”

[aleks-ethon]

The games were far more than just children dying or at least to the capitol. To the people who roamed the streets with flamboyant outfits and waists thin enough for a hand to wrap around, it was all about entertainment, the yearly charade. The loss of life was something hushed into a whisper and slipped under a rug of secrecy. It was all just for fun, but who was having fun exactly? Certainly not the tributes when their cannon rang. Certainly not the tributes who killed desperately to survive. Certainly not the victor who lost all they had to stand where they were today.

It disgusted Aleks, but in a sense, he was a product of the madness. He played President Snow's endeavor and was now living with the consequences, unable to forget or heal because he was brought back every year to guide children to death. Fiona was already gone, her lungs zapped of oxygen, the sacks crumbling into pieces in the bottom of her stomach - shriveled like fruit left in the sun too long.

He didn't know how much longer Nephon would last, if he would make it to the end only to lose to his competitor, get killed by a simulation that those in the control room produced, or maybe even... win. That conclusion sounded far fetched to Aleks because a career hadn't emerged since the seventieth games, since he was reaped. Would the pattern really change this year? It was impossible to guess with the odds. They were stubborn bastards.

"I've been trying, but there's been no bite yet. The first couple of days are usually observation for the sponsors. They want to know whose good, whose a coward, and then they make their move. I scored packages for my tributes often far later in the arena than in the beginning." He paused, releasing a sigh before speaking once more. "I'm sorry about your losses by the way. It's always unfortunate to watch.."

He knew that Ash's words to follow were true; the arena was deadlier this time around than the previous for the plucked and played on mentality, distorted reality from fiction. "I know," he said with a firm nod of his head. "I think everyone this year needs help. I mean.. look at it.. trap filled rooms, darkness. It's a nightmare."

[aleks-ethon]

ALEKS I'm so happy you are an admin in this RP you make everything a little evil and totally awesome! You are such a talented writer & your skills are going to take you so far in life! I've loved watching Aleks become what he is now, you've really done an excellent job with his character development! Keep you the fantastic work love!

asfklals;dkjfsadkfl. I think I just felt tears burn in my eyes. Thank you so so much. This was literally exactly what I needed to cheer me up. -squishes- <3

[magnus-whishart-blog]

Rise Up ➚ Aleks & Magnus

[magnus-whishart-blog]

aleks-ethon:

“You only found out how much you like sexy bum during your games?!” Magnus remarked, eyes growing wide with a small hint of concern.  “Where the hell had you been?  Locked away in a prison of non-sexy people?  A good looking ass is necessary for me, I’ll have you know.” The copper haired victor commented, rolling his eyes over the Career.  “Infer what you want to about that.” The boy let loose, turning around so that his own blush wouldn’t show afterwards.  Smooth, Magnus.  Real smooth. 

Without facing the other still, he let his tongue slide out another witty response.  “Then this is pretty much illegal.  Teaching idiots without proper license should not be allowed, especially around dangerous weapons.  Remind me why we’re here again?” He paused, not allowing the time to pass before receiving Aleks’ answer.  “Oh, yeah.  We’re supposed to be making me better at fighting.  But I’ll never be good at any of this.  I’ve been around it for three years now and I haven’t learned anything.” Magnus whined, eventually turning back to face Aleks. 

The boy from Two was too good for him, everything about him.  Knowledge, strength, patience, tranquility, and looks; Aleks just had it all and Magnus didn’t even scratch the surface on any of those traits.  Blush long gone by now, his brows had begun furrowing at Aleks in deep wonder.  Why does he even bother to put up with me?

Even with the planted kiss on his lips, the idea kept rooting into his mind and overtaking the necessary responses.  Doubt inched into his expression and laid heavily upon his eyelids as he watched the beam on his love’s face appear. 

“It wasn’t a great shot.” Magnus mumbled in protest, shaking his head.  “And I’ll never be better than you.  At anything.  I can only try, and believe me, that shot was probably a fluke.  I mean, I killed a boy with a boomerang once, and I didn’t even throw it at him.  I had to use it instead as a knife.  Close up.  I can’t do anything like you’re expecting.  So please…” he hesitated, the somber words heavy on his chest.  “Don’t get your hopes up.”  

[aleks-ethon]

So the arena wasn't exactly the best place to stumble upon one's sexuality, but it seemed to happen more often than not in the past few games. Perhaps it was due to the tight confines, a mutual understanding of a horrible situation, desperation due to very imminent death. Either way, Aleks had been hit square in the face with what he liked and though he had kissed Cora and cuddled her, he decided that it was to comfort her, stop the darkness from emerging within her tiny body. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a muscular frame that Aleks could still picture behind closed lids; that's who truly made his heart race. And it was then Aleks decided: he was gay.

"Back in two you don't really have much free time to worry about who you should be dating or getting intimate with. I didn't even look at the opposite or same sex while I was back home. I just trained and trained and trained some more. Really fucking boring if you ask me." He released a chuckle from in between his lips, but it came across as more of a scoff: bitter, pulled from clenched teeth. Thinking about where he came from was never a good train of memories.

"This is probably super illegal. Out of the list of rules, I'm breaking at least fifty, maybe a hundred." Though the comment was said in jest, there was a current of truth beneath every roll of a tongue. The reason why Magnus was training at all involved Aleks' master plan: a rebellion - unleashing a full fledged attack on the capitol hoping that the majority of the districts would support him. There wouldn't be any time for second chances or redos. Magnus had to learn all there was to learn, immediately.

Magnus however, wasn't a career. He was simple man born in an outlying district. Weapons and all they encompassed was not second nature to him like it was for Aleks. Flicks of a wrist, how to stand, the weakest points a human had to offer appeared in front of Aleks' blue pupils like a map. There was no pause for thought or contemplation. He just knew and as much as he hoped for it to come as easy for Magnus as it did for him, he was realizing that it was impossible.

Which scared him - literally rattled his core because if his plan succeeded and chaos erupted, he'd have to worry about Magnus surviving, about the person who held his heart escaping every ounce of danger thrown his way.

It was added pressure to his shoulders, pressure that Aleks willingly took on. "The shot was good, Magnus. You can't doubt yourself or else you'll never improve." Aleks lifted up his hand, pointing to the five arrows still left in the sheath. "Try to hit these following targets, the head, the throat, the chest, and both upper thighs. Don't think about screwing up, just focus on shooting."

[magnus-whishart-blog]

Rise Up ➚ Aleks & Magnus

[magnus-whishart-blog]

aleks-ethon:

“Yeah, so what?!  Maybe I can’t control my mouth after all…” Magnus fussed, tone infused with hints of fluctuating sauciness.  “I didn’t even mean to say it.  Honestly, I only put two words together and…yeah.” He sighed, realizing that it was a lost cause to try and explain.  Outbursts were outbursts after all.  “But you’ve got to also remember that tits can be holy to some people.  Just not me.  I prefer the bum.”  The younger Victor played, a new, cheeky smile forming onto his lips.

“But there’s no way you’re going to convince me by being sexy that I’m ever going to get the hang of throwing a lousy knife.” Magnus teased, pulling away from Aleks’ hold.  “Meanwhile, you think I need something else to try out and I’m thinking that I’ll never be good at any of this stuff.  Are you sure you’re certified to teach complete idiots like me?  Because it’s not working so far…” he grumbled, moving heavily over to the bows and arrows, taking a couple of each back to the Career. 

“I mean, I already sorta know how to do the bow and arrow.” Magnus complied, handing over a few arrows and a bow to the older victor.  Then he shrugged, taking his own bow and stringing it just like he remembered from a few years ago.  Swinging the arch forward and pulling the string back, his fingers danced along the slender cylinder of the arrow while his body kept adjusting.  One foot extended further than the other, left shoulder relaxed to expel the arrow from his grip, and his whole body standing tall as if being pulled up by a string.

Magnus remembered the stance perfectly but once his hands let go the arrow went straight into the mannequin’s stomach.  Not a bad shot, either.  Right below the belly-button and good enough so that the target would still perish in a few minutes, but not an instant kill shot like the ones Aleks was demonstrating. 

Shaking his head at himself in utter distaste, he lowered the bow and kept his eyes trained on the floor.  “Well?” he exposed, voice somber and defeated.  

[aleks-ethon]

Aleks couldn't help the laugh that escaped from in between his lips, a rather loud and hearty sound at the ramble that Magnus was now partaking in. His boyfriend certainly had a way with words; there was no denying that as he skipped through a range of topics, weapons, tits, and landing on the discussion of his sexual preference. "I'm more than delighted that you enjoy the bum, as you so put it. I found out during my games that I enjoyed such a thing. Funny, huh?" He clicked his tongue as his sentence drew closed, though there was an equally as cheeky smile hanging upon his expression.

"To be fair, I'm not really certified to teach anyone. I don't have a special license." It was Aleks' turn to perhaps throw a comeback or two. In the present of the copper haired male, the older always felt his sense of humor about to emerge, able to creep forward and escape without judgment. He liked that fact, preferred it to the dismal and dreary mood he was in post his victory. It was nice to be able to genuinely reveal a positive emotion, one that lifted the burdens from his body and thrust them aside for the time being. "However, you're not an idiot. You need to find your niche."

Aleks took the tools into his grasp from Magnus, slinging the arrows in their sheath over his shoulder and readying the bow in his hands. There were way too many memories engraved in the object, in the arch, in the string that his fingers were now plucking so an arrow could rest in the hold. He remembered Rhi as he plunged a projectile into her chest, thinking he had killed her, but in fact the rerun of his games proved otherwise. Allie had, sweet, gentle Allie, in order to put her out of the elapsing misery that Aleks caused her.

He shook his head, allowed the thought to run between the arcs of his shoulder blades, hoping it wouldn't visit again. Aleks' eyes drifted to Magnus as he steadied himself, feet adjusting, hands gripping tighter onto the weapon. And as the arrow flew through the air, its tip embedded itself into the stomach of a mannequin, most likely the small intestine. It wasn't a kill shot by far, but it would certainly lead to death and needless to say, excruciating pain.

"That was a great shot, love," Aleks mused, spinning on his heel to plant on kiss on Magnus' lips, slow and delicate, a mere teasing of the flesh. "It sticks and that person will be dead within a few minutes. I think if we keep working on this, we can make you an archery expert, maybe better than me."

[percychased]

[ashleen-cassidy]

as the tributes fall - ash x aleks

[ashleen-cassidy]

aleks-ethon:

Ash took several deep breaths to calm her shaking voice. This boy, whoever he was, meant no harm. He wasn’t here to point out her failure, to chastise her, or to mock her. That was good. At least she would get some respite before having to face her Sponsor friends who would no doubt do just that.

“I lost my female Tribute.”

Ash’s eyes snapped up at the comment. His female Tribute?! This boy, this child, really, was a Mentor? Ash clawed the tears from her eyes to get a good look at him. When her brain finally comprehended, she gasped. Standing in front of her was Aleks Ethon, the young Mentor of District Two.

A giddy rush spread through her body. Aleks was one of her favorites from the 70th Games. A smile hit her lips despite the tears. She truly must look maniacal. She let out a quick burst of laughter before jumping to her feet.

“Oh, Mr. Ethon! It’s an honor to meet you, really it is. I’m sorry for… well for all this.” She gestured to her face, which was streaked with all sorts of mess. “I’m just… just new. That’s all.”

He had lost Fiona. Fiona… what had been her last name? She hadn’t scored well, of course, but it was still a loss. Ash nodded and sniffled, trying to block out the images of Raff and Hazel suffocating.

“The most fucked up. Beautiful, of course. But morbid. Wonderful, but morbid.” Ash shook her head. “But you still have one left?”

[aleks-ethon]

The transformation that manifested itself on Ash truly left Aleks baffled. For not less than a minute ago she was covered in a streak of her own tears and strands of her face that littered her brow from desperate runs of a hand. If anyone were to pass by the mounter's lounge at this precise moment, they never would have guessed. She had gone from zero to sixty in less than a second, and Aleks wondered if the woman could see the disbelief in his crystalline eyes that were now wide and staring. Was everyone in the capitol somewhat crazy? The man was starting to believe so.

"Um, it's nice to meet you too," Aleks replied with a gentle smile falling on the curves of his lips. He never really heard of another mentor being fond of meeting him, but he wasn't going to complain. This kind of reaction when juxtaposed to disgust or bitterness of a tribute that he killed was certainly more pleasant. "I'm sorry about your the loss of both children fro your district," he then commented.

It truly was a shame. Regardless of how one prepared those who were reaped, the chances of them winning were a mere four percent. Loss, whether it came immediately, as it did with Ash, or gradually, like perhaps it would be with Aleks this time around, death always came to a district in entity. Handling the grief and the pain and the disappointment was the problem.

"I do, my male tribute, Nephon. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Hopefully he'll do well, but we never know with the arena, do we? I mean the opening cornucopia was a shock in itself." He gestured to the television where the scene was being played again and again and again.

The charade never got old, did it?

[magnus-whishart-blog]

Rise Up ➚ Aleks & Magnus

[magnus-whishart-blog]

aleks-ethon:

All went blank for mere seconds while his emerald irises stayed fixated on the knife lodged within the mannequin’s throat.  Unconsciously his whole body went numb from the impact, sure that if Aleks hadn’t thrown the blade he’d be long gone.  The sheer power teased him, weapon hanging in mid-air as if to mock his prowess thus far. 

Doe-eyed, Magnus felt so vulnerable as the seconds ticked by.  Questioning his knowledge of Career power, he wasn’t quite sure of where this undeniable strength laid within Aleks, but a part of him feared such destructive potency. 

But damn, was it sexy.

Of course he’d always known that Aleks was a Victor and that entailed killing on some degrees, but he never actually viewed a true Victor in action until now.

But damn, was it sexy!

“Holy tit, Aleks!  My turn, my arse.” he mumbled, picking up another sharpened edge, turning to look at his boyfriend with a half-smirk.  “Remind me to never make you angry, yeah?  I don’t wanna end up like that poor sap.  Good thing it’s fake…” he rolled his eyes, still in slight disbelief that someone could be so attractive while throwing a knife. 

Though, with a sigh, he did as Aleks told.  Left foot slightly ahead of his right, Magnus took a deep breath to imitate something along the same lines of what he’d just experienced.  Feeling his heartbeat, hearing it in the brevity of time, he flicked his left hand forward as if punching away at a brick wall.  Suddenly the weapon was moving too fast for him to catch up with, aim slicing the edge deep into the side dummy’s skull and kept the blade spinning for another few feet until it hit the floor with a loud ‘ping.’ 

No good.  Cuts weren’t going to get him anywhere.  Cuts, even on the head forehead, weren’t going to save him should the situation arise.  Before he knew it, his fists were clenched tight as his chest drew tight, breathing heavily in frustration.  Why wasn’t he getting this right?!  It didn’t look hard at all, yet he kept failing at it so easily while Aleks prevailed.  A huff later, his jaded eyes refused to look at Aleks’ surely disappointed expression. 

[aleks-ethon]

Throwing the knife was an innate reflex for Aleks. While others had to think, plan, position their wrist, Aleks was throwing. The words of his father echoed in his ears, beat against the drums, and it was with his consistent years of lesson and instruction that he was unable to forget. Even if he didn't touch a blade for years or ran far away from the training center and all it consisted of, he would still be able. It was similar to riding a bike. Once you gathered your balance and synced it with the movement of your feet, the skill stayed embedded in the circuits of the brain.

As the dummy stopped shaking and Aleks turned to view his lover, he caught glimpse of true awe in his emerald eyes and the stiffness of his posture. He was staring directly at the impaled voice box, perhaps the realization of the deadly shot making its mark. Aleks hoped he hadn't scared him too much; showing his career side was a scarce occurrence since the twenty one year old man despised it with every fiber of his being.

"Did you just say holy tit?" Aleks let out a loud snort, a hand cupping his face as a laugh slipped through the edges of his lips. "That's probably one of the best responses I've heard to something I did ever. So, thank you for that love, for being fucking creative. And don't worry about me harming you. I doubt there is anything you can do that would cause my temper to come out."

Though there was always a fear in the back of Aleks' mind - snapping, the corners of his visions blurring with a heated cloud, where logic was erased and impulse took in. He prayed, begged even, that Magnus would never see him angry whether at others, or more so, at him directly.

Thankfully Magnus had already launched another blade, the scraping of the serrated edge against the side of the dummy's skull before landing in the hardened surface of the wall.

"I think you need something with more leverage," Aleks hummed, his brows furrowing as he thought. It took a few seconds before his chin gestured to the rack of bows and arrows. "Bring me one of those and a handful of arrows. I think you need more of a frame instead of relying on just your fingers. Too slippery, too unpredictable."

But before Magnus proceeded to do as instructed, Aleks snaked an arm around his waist and placed a kiss along the hill of his cheek. "We're going to figure this out, yeah? I promise."

[ashleen-cassidy]

as the tributes fall - ash x aleks

[ashleen-cassidy]

aleks-ethon:

Ash hadn’t noticed anyone enter the room. Her hands ran from her chin, over her eyes, and back through her hair, the slight tug providing a needed release. The whisky wasn’t doing the trick. Ash’s fingers clawed through her auburn hair as she stared at the screen. They still hadn’t followed the remaining Tributes into the house, instead choosing to circle over the dead bodies. Raff’s body. Hazel’s body.

“They didn’t make it, did they?”

Ash’s head snapped up and towards the sound. A screech of surprise manifested in the form of a choked sob as her hand flew to her face to wipe away tears. Her hair was ruffled and resembled the mane of a lion, and mascara was streaked down her face. In short, she looked and sounded like a mess.

It took several minutes of Ashleen blankly staring at the boy in front of her to formulate words. When she finally managed to get the guttural noises pressed far enough down to use her normal voice, the only thing she could manage to say was, “Both- neither of them.”

She stared at the newcomer for a few moments longer, not truly recognizing who he was. It didn’t matter who he was. He could be a Mentor, a worker, an Avox… Could Avoxes speak? It didn’t matter. After another few moments, tears began anew on her face. She let out a high wail and slumped onto the plush couch.

She had never been this attached to a pair of Tributes. She followed the Games regularly and spent money on these children. Yet when they died, it was a laugh and a shrug, followed by a handshake to the winner of the bet. Why was she so invested in these two? They had scored abysmally. Others had died in the past. Why did she care?

[aleks-ethon]

Distress ran like shredded ribbon's from the woman's face: a trail down her cheeks where tears had fallen, eyes red and swollen from the willful irritation, her hair a mangled mess torn apart by fingers that ravished strand by strand. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened; the games had begun and with eight tributes dead in the cornucopia alone, well, an answer was easy to come by as to why any dedicated, heart felt mentor would be upset. The deaths this time around were sudden, painful - lungs stolen of air and soon the brain shut down like a control panel, switch by switch.

Fiona falling fate to the odds was like a punch in the chest for Aleks; he had relatives hope for her, but then again, the game makers were unpredictable and only had one goal in mind: provide as much entertainment as possible.

The younger of the pair remained pressed up against the entrance of the mentor's lounge, hesitant to disturb the other in a time of grief. So his arms stayed folded over the bulk of his chest and his eyes that usually shown as brightly as crystals were darkened with that of mutual sorrow. He understood, not to mention he had his round of freaking out when one of his own died: Axel Cobalt from the seventy first Hunger Games proving to be a prime example. Then again, Aleks was also a lot less stable in the past when compared to now.

"I'm sorry," Aleks whispered with a nod, glancing to the flat screen television that hung from the ceiling of the room, the beginning scene replaying on loop. The only district that lost both tributes was nine, Aleks using that information to place an adviser he wasn't all too familiar with - his social withdrawal most likely an explanation as to why. "I lost my female tribute," he started as his feet grazed the floor of the room and he stood now by the edge of the couch. "Fucked up start, huh?"

[magnus-whishart-blog]

Rise Up ➚ Aleks & Magnus

[magnus-whishart-blog]

aleks-ethon:

“I know you didn’t,” he said quickly with a goofy grin, “But I never realized that I sounded angry.  Makes sense, though.  I can be a little contemptuous at times I guess.” No big deal, right?  He could still change or at least begin releasing his tensions, starting with his training.  Among his endless list of reasons to rebel, Magnus could add his fiery spirit to fuel his strength; a different weapon of sorts perhaps.  Come to think of it, his temperament actually helped during his Games.  Maybe they’d come in handy here, too. 

“And I like to show, but it’s not going as smoothly as I planned in my head.” The boy whispered back with suaveness in his tone.  “Maybe I’ll get it right eventually, huh, and you can treat me to some good ol’ Aleks lovin’.” He tempted, turning to take another knife from his station, rolling it over in his hands to get a good idea of its weight.  Meanwhile, he tried combining his thoughts into one, faltering as Aleks spoke.

“Projects, is that what they were?” He bellowed, nearly cutting himself with the idea.  “No way!  Those were more like, um, little attempts at being artsy!  Nothing special, by no means!  Maybe I did have a steady hand when I made them, but that doesn’t mean anything now…right?” he chuckled, seeing sincerity still lingering behind Aleks’ cerulean hues.  Oh, he was being serious. 

“Okay, maybe not then.” he mumbled before following every instruction.  With assistance, every time the other’s touch met his skin electric pulses were sent down his spine in guilty pleasure.  Nearly put-off by the fact that Aleks was no longer moving him around, he took a deep breath to expel such thoughts while importance lay on getting this right. 

Closing his blazing honey-dew eyes for a brief moment, they snapped back open with sureness.  In one fluid motion he released the dagger into the air and watched as it swirled through nothingness to impact the mannequin’s lower chest with success.  That is, until it fell to the ground again.  The main fact, though, was that there was now a knick on the dummy’s fake skin, red liquid dripping down its side and onto the floor.  A minor success, but a success nonetheless.  

[aleks-ethon]

"Contemptuous." Aleks played with the word on his tongue, allowed it to roll amongst every taste bad and settle in the back of his throat. He kept a playful smile as he did so, eyes focused on the copper haired male as he eventually came back into reality and spoke. "I think you're perfect as you are love. Besides, one of us has to be the fiery type and it clearly it's me, well, unless I'm pissed off, but hopefully you'll never have to see me when I'm really pushed to the limit. It's not a pretty sight." He swallowed the phrase though the memory clung - blackness surrounding him, eyes unable to focus as his sight frayed at the edges and the only thirst he had was to slice open someone's skin and watch them bleed. That was the sole time he was a career: when he fell to the sin of wrath.

"It means everything," the man protested as Magnus spoke negatively of his projects, the things he created while in twelve that Aleks often watched from a distance as he did. Sure, they were nothing remotely big in size, but they held meaning, a skill that Magnus knew how to maneuver every individual finger and display them for a different purpose. "Not all people are good with their hands. If you can build, you're most likely good at something you haven't discovered yet, something in this room. Trust me, yeah?"

The knife that Magnus released from his palm flew through the air, spinning thanks to the flicker of his wrist. It slammed into the target, just below the chest, though the blade wobbled and soon crashed against the mat in a heap. "That's not bad for a first try," he said, kissing Magnus' cheek before proceeding forward to pick up the weapon, flipping it in between his tendons, handing it to his boyfriend a few seconds later. "You need more power. Keep your technique the same, just draw more force from your arm. Like you're throwing a punch except with your wrist if that makes any sense whatsoever."

It probably didn't, but Aleks wasn't going to comment on a skill he desperately needed to teach and could provide to be useful in the future. "Watch me."

Aleks retrieved a serrated edge from the holster and positioned himself, right foot before left, inhaling a slow and deep breath, one that pulled through every inch of his lungs. As the last bit of air left him, he released the object with a single plunge of his arm, the tip slamming into the throat of the dummy - shaking as result. "Your turn."

[thinkingofchaos]

[aleks-ethon]

How do you feel about the fact to which you have made your District look weak since you have become mentor? Why are you against what District 2 stands for? Why are you my proud of your home?

I don't feel anything towards making district 2 look weak. I actually gave a shit about people in the arena and that's something they can't understand nor compute in their brain washed minds. I'm not proud of my home. I don't even call it my home.

[magnus-whishart-blog]

Rise Up ➚ Aleks & Magnus

[magnus-whishart-blog]

aleks-ethon:

Angry?  Is that how he came off?

“Oh.” Magnus merely mouthed in response, his edginess dropping in contemplation.  Until it was brought unto his attention he’d never considered himself to be an angry person, though as his gaze lingered on the soft oceans in Aleks’ eyes, Magnus knew that it had to be true.  Short fuse and blunt tongue, Magnus was a bomb of angst.  “It’s not that I’m angry,” he started in protest, a goofy smile on his lips.  “I’m just not calm.  I have a lot to say, and I do have control.”

To demonstrate, he wrapped a hand around Aleks’ hip, pulling the other closer.  “See, I know that I love you and I can show that.”  Besides that, however, the young mentor couldn’t do much.  His training was a complete disaster, highlights around his minimal knowledge of survival skills.  Yet he dug to recall even the slightest thing that could impress Aleks.

He didn’t want to screw this up.  He sincerely wanted to learn, but Magnus was too volatile during his training two years prior to actually remember much.  Unqualified for his position as a mentor, his lower lip began poking out in defeat.  Still convinced that his victory was a complete fluke, this would be a task harder than he originally thought. 

“Training…yeah, I wasn’t so good at anything then, either.” his blush admitting the truth for him.  “I’ve had a few bouts with Cal, once mano-a-mano and I somehow won that, but only because he almost had a stroke or something.  And really, I can’t do anything.  I just can’t.”

With that, his hand slipped from his beau’s side and returned to another blade.  “I’m sorry…but we can try this again, can’t we?”

[aleks-ethon]

Aleks chuckled, continuing to rub his thumb along the others' cheekbone as he spoke. "I didn't mean it offensively, love, just a mere tease. But you do always have something to say. It's amusing." And that much was certainly true. Magnus was a spit fire; words tumbled from his lips without effort or much thought to them and it was a trait which Aleks happened to cherish among the many perhaps for the reason that he was the opposite. There was a slight envy in being able to say anything without a filter. Aleks contemplated too much for his own good, said something and yet still had a million excess ideas swimming along the crevices of his brain.Whether it was a gift or a curse, the man had yet to decide.

"I like being shown." Said as a hum as Aleks leaned against the copper haired male, settling into the hold around his waist. Simple touches such as these were valued for they meant more than Aleks could properly express no matter how much he tried. So instead, he cupped the male's chin, placing a gentle kiss against the plump folds of his lips, smiling through the action and even after when he pulled away.

It was a distraction from the severity of their conversation before arriving at the training center. A rebellion, how if Magnus was willing to be a part of this, he had to gather a myriad of skills that would allow him to survive, to take down enemies such as peacekeepers, capitol citizens, and whomever existed in the districts who for some absurdity, enjoyed the hunger games. There was also the possibility, which Aleks hated thinking about, that mentors would inhibit their progression, take a stand because they settled into the life they were granted post their victory. Either way, the younger of the two had to be prepared.

Needless to say what rolled from Magnus' tongue next didn't provided Aleks with any security.

"You are good with your hands, I've seen your projects back in twelve and that might be the key to figuring out what talent you may have. Knives, spears, even a bow and arrow, anything that involves the movement of your wrists and fingers. For now let's try what you already have, hm?"

Aleks moved behind his lover, repositioned the handle of the serrated edge in Magnus' palm so his wrist held onto it firmly, but still loosely enough for it to move. "Put your dominant foot forward, the other back, and flick your hand. Try to aim for the chest."

[aleks-ethon]

No, but seriously. Buttsex?