scream

BANSHEE GROVE. District Eleven Tribute. Nineteen. “In the womb I heard you die, for no one lives when a banshee cries.”

[banshee-grove]

hazel-sawyer​:.

Hazel whipped around at the sound of the door opening, fear engulfing her throat. Carefully she stepped out toward the sound, not wanting to let herself hide. She swallowed hard several times trying to will her mouth to move before she finally summoned up the courage to speak to the other tribute, “What d’you want?” It felt lame but she was still attempting to ground herself the best she could while feeling as a whole, lost.

Banshee didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t think she really wanted anything specific in the moment, other than to not be seen. She couldn’t wish to disappear aloud, though. It felt counterintuitive. “I can go,” she offered, her voice breaking as she reached back behind her. “I didn’t - I don’t mean any harm.”

[banshee-grove]

@avenue-barcroft​

Banshee wasn’t sure if she was going forward or backward, or if there was any real direction on this strange ship. Despite the darkness outside, she still found herself wishing, each time she opened a door, that she would enter into a field and breathe fresh air. She wanted to smell dirt and dew and a little bit of smoke in the air as people started to cook their dinner. She was moving carefully, still sticking to the wall as much as possible and slipping through doorways as quietly as she could. 

For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating when she did catch a scent that wasn’t entirely sterile. Banshee reached out for the railing of a staircase and, like a child, bent forward to use her hand to help her creep up the stairs. When she saw the first leaf of a plant, she straightened up quickly and let out a gasp that echoed through the whole room.

[banshee-grove]

hazel-sawyer​:

Another empty fucking metal container. Hope was beginning to dwindle off of Hazel’s face as it fell. She pushed another container out of a cargo hold and toward the pile that was beginning to amass behind her. Her hands busied themselves, as she grabbed another container and began to pull it open and her face fell as she kicked at the container, swearing aloud, “For fuck’s sake is there fucking anything in here?”

@banshee-grove​

Banshee hadn’t stopped shaking since she crawled out of the space suit. She was so exposed. It felt like she was naked in the sunshine. It was dangerous. It was too bright in this strange building, her clothes were too close to her skin. She gave little thought of who would be watching her. She was more concerned about who might find her in such a vulnerable state. Even the dead weren’t buried naked. 

So she kept moving. Kept to the walls, mostly, as much as she could. She imagined herself like a vine, clinging to something for security as she moved on. There were hallways, but each room she entered was as clean and bleak, to her eyes, as the next. There was nothing natural here. It made her feel dizzy, terrified. She entered a new room and was almost immediately struck still when she heard a voice and a loud sound. Banshee crouched down immediately, but the door she’d just passed through shut loudly behind her. Exposed. She hated this.

[banshee-grove]

knoxxcarbon​:

Knox watched the girl with dirty shoes walk through the lobby. It really looked awful and she just knew some people were going to be bothered by it but Knox really didn’t care at all. When the girl apoloigzied, Knox just shrugged her shoulders. “Not my business and not my lobby Seeing the Capitol people pissed off about it could also be a funny sight.” She told her. “Why are your shoes so dirty, though?” Knox asked curiously.

Banshee was shocked by the girl’s attitude toward the Capitolites, but then Banshee remembered she was the one covered in dirt, not Knox. “I, um...” Her eyes darted around, and only settled briefly on Knox before she looked down at the floor again. Banshee found volunteers incredibly intimidated, no matter where they were from. “I went out. To see something.”

[banshee-grove]

avenue-barcroft​:

“Yeah, I am,” Avenue nodded. “I grew up only a few blocks from here, actually.” It was both a point of pride and an uncomfortable pinch of sadness. “My parents are the co-founders of the Barcroft Hunger Games History Museum, but this is my first time actually inside of the Tower,” she released a breath, as if in doing so there was some implied ‘believe it or not.’ Like that tidbit of information would be a shock to anyone but her. “Where are you from?”

A few blocks. It was an unexpected thing to be terrified about, but Banshee’s heart leapt into her throat. She was talking to a real Capitolite, someone who knew this building as more than just a once-in-a-lifetime experience. “Eleven,” she replied meekly. It felt like such a small word now. “So you know, um... everything about the Games?”

[banshee-grove]

hollandwestbrook​:

“So you thinking of going out there?” Holland asked, blunt, getting straight to it. “I’ll issue a warning: don’t get in anyone’s fucking car.” But she regarded her for a moment, then softened slightly. “If you want to see a Capitol cemetery, I can take you to one. Just promise not to get me in trouble?”

Banshee nodded quickly, only realizing too late that she looked like she was saying yes she wanted to leave, not acknowledging the advice. Though maybe if she was acknowledging it, that meant she’d already made her decision. She supposed she must have, she was just waiting for a push. “I-I won’t,” she replied then, and inched closer to the door. It didn’t matter what she saw at that point, or what got her in trouble. It was a distraction and a lived eulogy she sought. “I don’t think I’ll be talking to many people before tomorrow.”

[banshee-grove]

summer-hazer​:

“Yeah,” Summer snorted as she confirmed the girl’s words. “That’s what led to the prison. But hey, look at me, I’m sort of free now, before the next prison sentence.” She glanced over at Banshee. “Have you ever seen the Wilds?”

Banshee clasped her hands together and started to wring them, now more interested in looking at the girl than any of the sleek surfaces around them. “No, um... no. Eleven didn’t border them, and I never left. Did you... were you alone?” The girl looked young. As much as Banshee thrived in her own company, she couldn’t imagine having tried to care for herself without family around. 

[banshee-grove]

vix-holt​:

Vix didn’t want to tell her, she didn’t want to subject her daughter to anymore of this world, didn’t want anyone to know her name so that they could use it later, but she also didn’t want to anger any of her fellow tributes, didn’t want to create a target on her back before they’d even started. “She’s four months— her uh- her name is Cassia” she said softly, hoping she could trust Banshee with such precious information.

Cassia, what a beautiful name. “Cassia,” she repeated, and the name felt natural on her tongue even if she was breathless. She recognized the feeling even if this was her first time experiencing it; the feeling that evoked the same tone and expression in her aunts whenever they said her name. “It fits her.” She paused, trying to decipher why. “She smiles a lot?” It was all made up, and she knew it, deep down. But all she wanted was to hope that Cassia was a smiling, happy baby, because it was too tragic otherwise. She was conditioned not to allow tragedy, even in death. Parents were always passed. Not dead. As simple as if a mother was busy washing up while her daughter was off to school; neither knew what the other was doing, just that the other was there. Unseen, but still present at a distance. 

[banshee-grove]

TASK 011. A TIME AND A PLACE

1920s

You belong in the roaring '20s. Imagine yourself as a character in The Great Gatsby, rocking flapper clothing, listening to jazz, and drinking martinis without a care in the world. Sounds about right, doesn't it?

[banshee-grove]

TASK 010. NATURAL PHENOMENA

TREE

Tree's are really phenomenal! You are the ones who exhale life and kindness. You give and you give and you give. Unfortunately because of this, some underestimate you and use your generous spirit to their advantage :( but don't worry there will always be tree-huggers to offer you a hand or a twig <3 plus you always look good, winter or summer.

[banshee-grove]

TASK 007. TAGLINE

[banshee-grove]

TASK 002. SEARCH ENGINE

[banshee-grove]

The smoke was no longer coming out of her shoes. It was only meant to last the length of the interview, but that was long over now. She didn’t even think about how loud her dirt-speckled heels would be on the clean, slick lobby floor. She thought she was being smart, trying to move slowly, but there was still a click... click... click. With each step, a little bit of dirt fell off the shoes and hem of her dress, leaving a trail behind her. She placed a hand against the wall to steady herself and carefully watched in front of her as she walked, trying not to slip. She sucked in a breath when she realized someone was standing nearby. “I’m... sorry?”

[banshee-grove]

vix-holt​:

Vix made a face at her question, because it was odd, to ask a parent if they cared about their child, but before she could bite back, she rethought about it, and realised her own parents didn’t give a shit about her, so maybe Banshee’s question was relative. “She’s my world”

Banshee smiled at the girl’s response. In a life that was so full of death and sorrow, she found these genuine moments of love so important. “What’s her name? How old is she?” She hoped her questions were not prying. She asked very personal questions of strangers so often, but it was easier to ask when it was the facts - name, age, appearance, jobs.

[banshee-grove]

hollandwestbrook​:

Banshee had snagged Holland’s attention. Anyone who worked with dead things for a living was automatically of interest to her, and this was no exception, even if she was a tribute from another District. “See what?” she asked, recognizing the interest in the outside world that she’d had when she was in Banshee’s position. Same time, one year ago.

“Anything,” Banshee replied meekly. She had never quite been able to feel comfortable in the squeaky clean, brightly lit Tower. Outside look different - darker, with more sporadic, flashing lights. She imagined the pavement was rough, something she missed under her feet. “All of it. The President’s mansion, what a house looks like here, a school, a... a cemetery, a market.” She crossed her arms and tilted her head down to force herself to stop rambling.

[banshee-grove]

konnerbohr​:

“I certainly hope not,” he laughed, taking it as a joke. The girl did not offer her name and district in return, or say much of anything really, aside from repeating his district. She only gave him a look. The look. The look that quite a number of people had given him and Knox since their arrival in the city. It did not annoy him–not exactly, he understood, really–but he still did not quite know what to do with himself with all the staring. “Believe me, Thirteen’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Konner tried to play it off lightly, despite not having the slightest idea of how it was cracked up to be. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t really, uh, know what it’s cracked up to be,” she admitted then. There was gossip about Thirteen, of course, but when he aunts turned to gossip she normally turned her attention out a window or to her food. She imagined people her age were discussing the new district, too, but she’d never had a conversation with them about it. “Oh, um, Banshee, sorry. From Eleven.”

[banshee-grove]

summer-hazer​:

“Oh, no, not even close. I lived in Ten, then for a year in the woods, and then in prison. Nothing like this, ever.” Her movements mirrored Banshee’s as she looked up at the walls. “It’s so weird, right? Like a whole different world out here. They have all this here and don’t even think to share.”

Banshee was confused as she tried to follow along. “The woods? Like... the Wilds?” Eleven was far from the Wilds, but she always imagined them looking like the far reaches of the graveyard - unkempt and likely to leave one covered in scratches. “I suppose that’s what led to the, uh, prison,” she reasoned with herself aloud.