. b r i g h t y n .

under construction

[bri9htyn]

𝓁𝒶𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓁

@bri9htyn

Laurel rarely left her floor if she could avoid it. It wasn’t that she was trying to skirt around her duties, she did those admirably well. She just didn’t enjoy the chaos. She rarely drank, unless it was something in her coffee. She didn’t enjoy the flamboyant stylists and escorts running amok. She supposed that made her a bit of an old lady at the under age of 21. Laurel needed fresh air more than anything. It was overcast and looked breezy outside. Seven’s floor had gotten uncomfortable noisy with Rem and a slew of chaos that seemed to follow the man. Laurel sought refuge on the roof with a large cup of tea and a book to distract her. 

She headed for a cozy looking corner on the rooftop, a few squashy looking chairs and large plants that provided some seclusion. Laurel dropped into the car and was surprised to see someone else already in the area.

“Oh!” Laurel said softly. “I’m so sorry… Do you want me to leave?”

when she was at home, brightyn was rarely inside. something about being inside felt so suffocating, there was always walls closing in on her and she could never find a space where she felt truly comfortable. outside though, that was where she thrived. there was something about the way the sun warmed her cheekbones and the air felt fresh, an endless line of vision before her... it all helped her find a center of peace. 

but, her center of peace wasn’t used to company. she sat, curled up in her favorite corner in a sweater with a book -- one of her favorite parts about coming to the capitol, when the sound of the door latching shut startled her. it wasn’t uncommon for people to come up there, but it was uncommon for them to wander too far from the door. anxiety prickled up her spine, her finger marking her place in her storybook, and she was startled by the voice behind her.

“ uh... “ she muttered, turning around to see laurel there, “ uh no... i can go, “ she said, not really wanting to leave. so she started to gather her things but froze. “ listen... I.... I really want to stay up here.... if I just stay quiet.... I won’t be much bother really... “ she rambled, pleading her case to stay up here.

[bri9htyn]

𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓉𝑜𝓃

@bri9htyn​

Smoking inside was apparently somehow even more of a no go than it had been when Xien had been the district escort. Wren had said it gently, but he still felt a little miffed and had taken his sulking to the roof top in an effort to escape her. She was a weird one that was for certain.

It was just about mid-day and he’d taken a break from his interview prep with the tributes while they ate lunch. The roof access door wasn’t even all the way open before Rem was lighting up his cigarette. His first hit of the nicotine was like a Godsend.  Tension released from his shoulders, as Rem turned to survey the roof he noticed he was not alone. 

she was used to being alone and overlooked. she’d dropped her tributes with the stylists and she was sure, milo especially, was having a great time. she remembered what it was like to be poked and prodded and measured, and she hated when she had to do it again. so, she took any opportunity to slip away and get some fresh air.

the air was different here, air at home smelled different and left a different note in the back of her throat. it would due, at least up on the rooftop brightyn knew the exact angle and where to sit in order to get the most perfect, clear view of nothing but sky and clouds. when the door opened, she immediately jumped to her feet and froze. “ i’m sorry... “ she said, swallowing her nerves, “i... I can go.... “ she offered, expecting the worst from her fellow victor.

[bri9htyn]

𝓲𝔃𝓪𝓻𝓪

lucky to be breath- there were days when izara’s calm was tested to its limits, often by the same few people, but brightyn had decided to take an interesting route to wearing down izara’s steeled facade. pure, unadulterated stupidity had always been one of the things she could never pretend to stomach. “i’m sure that’s what you tell yourself to keep a smile on your face, but this world is a cruel bitch and if you don’t act accordingly it will eat you whole,” izara responded, placing drawing out her last few words, her voice still calm. “though i do suppose that would give me more air that i’d be lucky to breathe.”

at the concept of surprises, izara let out a short chuckle and crossed her arms over her chest not bothering to face brightyn or look in her direction. instead, she turned her attention to the training room to watch the mess of tributes trying desperately to learn how to keep themselves alive. “there are few things that still surprise me, though i can’t assume you’d be the same given your… lack of attendance.” 

it was well known around the capitol that brightyn preferred to keep a low profile, skirt around certain activities when possible. if izara had time for pity, she would have felt bad that so many turned their noses up at the small seed of power they’d been offered.

“ i don’t recall smiling at any time, “ she said, knowing that the victors are not required to love the games. she hated being in the capitol, away from home. she missed her family, she missed her nieces and nephews, and times like this made her miss them even more. there were enough small children around here that she could have easily found a short term replacement, but her heart was too big, it was her flaw as a mentor. 

but when izara turned her head to the tributes, naturally, brightyn followed in suit. her eyes scanned the area, her heart hurting for each one of these children that were being prepared to die. lambs for slaughter is all they were. 

she snapped her eyes back up to the darker haired mentor, feeling the spear of the words in her chest. “ they’re doing their best, izara, “ she said, wishing her voice didn’t feel like it was shaking.

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

Monday fallowed after her quickly. an offer of food in eleven had to be taken up fast, otherwise they might change their minds. Monday slipped her hand into Brightyn’s, squeezing it gently as they started to walk.

“i like chocolate too. and i think Althea does too. i know she likes hommade cookies, she didn’t like the cookies i got her from the buffet. said they tasted fake. but i think they were still really good.” chattering along to the wonderful princess who Monday still didn’t know the name of felt natural. she was nice.

she felt herself slipping into the cozy feeling like she would into the rare warm bath in her lifetime.

“ chocolate chip cookies are like the gift that keeps on giving, “ she told her, “ especially the ones you get to make, “ she said, playfully tickling the back of girl’s neck. “ you can put extra chocolate chips in them -- thats how my sister likes them, “ she said, pressing the button to head up to her floor, and again checking over her shoulder.

she knew she could get in a lot of trouble for this -- but she ushered monday in the elevator anyway. “ whos Althea? “ she asked, pressing the number 9 and the close door button. she’d relax once they got to her floor. 

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

she smiled, looking at brightyn with a bit of excitement in her gaze. chocolate chip or sugar cookies? it was such a big choice! big big big! on one hand, Monday loved chocolate so much. on the other, sugar was, well, SUGAR. 

“um… well… i dunno… what do you like better?” Monday was sure she’d tried both if she knew how to make both. and the little girl trusted the other’s decisions. she was nice and gave good hugs. and she felt more like a mother than anyone Monday had ever met.

“ i like chocolate chip, “ she told the girl, letting her smile become more genuine. rising to her feet, she checked over her shoulder one more time before motioning with her head for monday to follow her. normally, she wouldn’t do such a thing, it was a bad idea to whisk a tribute away like she was -- she was just so cute.

cookies were easy. it didn’t take long, but it was deeper than that. she’d always filled a motherly role and she was lucky that only a few of her tributes had been on the younger side. she dreaded the day that her siblings may be drawn or she gets too attached, and part of her feared this year may be that year. she missed home. she missed her siblings. she shouldn’t be doing this, but she’d like to see someone try to stop her.

maybe being invisible isn’t so bad.

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

“my mom got money to make me and gave me away.” she muttered into brightyn’s chest. that was how she’d understood it, anyway. whatever all the twilight’s mothers did, it made them money. it also sometimes made them babies. and they didn’t take care of them. which was fine, it made the kids tough. but it certainly didn’t make her a queen just for having her. “I don’t know which one she is.”

when she had to pull away, it wasn’t much fun. Brightyn gave warm and kind hugs. Monday didn’t like to leave that embrace, but she did, retaking her cane. she thought over the question for a minute. she had eaten, but… “well. technically, yeah… but i’m always hungry. do you know how to make cookies? I really really want to learn.”

and again her heart broke. there was that shattering sound again and all brightyn could do was hold her closer. she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d never meet the other half of her soul and have children of her own like she’d always planned. the tributes were her children -- monday may not have been her tribute, but at the question of cookies, she smiled.

“ i do know how to make cookies, “ she smiled, staying at the girl’s level for a moment longer. “ we can make them if you want, it doesn’t take too long, “ she glanced over her shoulder, there was no mentor for district 11 in sight. a grin pulled at her face and looked back at monday. “ do you want chocolate chip, or sugar cookies? “

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

Monday looked up at brightyn, a little embarassed by how close she’d come to crying over that. and honestly, that sounded right. But Monday was just listening to the logic of it all. she had, after all, agreed to being a princess. just maybe not the same one monday had heard of. of course there was more than one! DUH! especially that they would both be victors. famous, rich, happy victor princesses.

why hadn’t she seen it?

“well course they look like you, you are one.” she laughed, smiling once again. she even hugged her, so greatful for the explination. “no… n-no. no i’m not a princess. i’m just… you know. me. trust me, my momma isn’t a queen.” even if it was quite possible her father was a king of some kind… she knew that kids liike her, who were born at the bottom… they stayed at the bottom. “I’m not a princess. but it’s really nice to meet you though!”

brightyn sighed, seeing the realization wash over the little girl. she didn’t want to lie, but this little girl was clearly an under dog.. she could barely stand alone, much less stand a chance in the arena. if there was something that she could do or say to make this a little bit better for all parties involved, she was going to do it. even if it was just becoming a self proclaimed princess. 

her heart broke hearing the tale the girl had to tell. “ all mothers are queens, “ she reminded the child with a soft smile. when she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around her, brightyn could feel her heart melt. this little girl was going to die. it was clean cut and clear. there were tributes like elektra who would have no issues taking a light like this from the world. but, she had to hold herself together, so she hugged her back, giving her back a small rub before helping her regain her balance. 

“ have you eaten breakfast yet, monday? “

[bri9htyn]

𝓲𝔃𝓪𝓻𝓪

“i’m sure it won’t be fast, but you can waste your time hoping.” often, deaths in the games were drawn out either by choice or the sheer lack of experience of other tributes. it wasn’t clean, easy, simple. as much as the capitol tried to shine it up and make it look like something else, the games were messy and unpredictable. “and i don’t need luck, how far they make it,” she nodded towards the training room doors, referencing antimony and cassian, “depends on how hard they’re willing to fight for it. and who they’re willing to kill.”

“besides, i already killed my way out of that arena. and luck had nothing to do with it.” izara’s eyes scanned brightyn, searching for any sign of of skill that could have been the reason she got out of her own arena alive. all izara could remember was the rage felt throughout the academy when a small girl from nine made it further than their own. “though i’m sure you feel quite lucky to still be breathing.”

just because she made it out of the arena alive didn’t mean anything. every time she stepped foot in the capitol there was a target on her back. though she tried to just duck under the radar, doing her best to not make a scene and do the best she could with her tributes, that plan didn’t always work out. there were mentors every where, 43 of them alongside herself, she was bound to brush shoulders with a few of them. it was unfortunate that this time it was a career. 

brightyn was about to pipe in, mentioning that she had also won her games and she knew that it took to survive, but she didn’t get the chance at the sound of the word luck. “ we’re all lucky to be breathing, “ she said, her psudo-confidence wavering. she glanced over her shoulder at the young, fiery red head attempting to train alongside another fiery red head they both knew. 

“ maybe they’ll surprise us both, theres plenty of surprises out there this year. “

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

“Wait, But… But you said…” Monday had never had the luxury of being a carefree happy child. She had never let herself hope and expect something. That usually led to dissatisfaction. So now, with her spirit up… those words hurt. They hurt hard.

“but I’m looking for you! You’re the princess. You’re super kind. And you love little girls like me, just like he said! You talk to birds, and everybody loves you! You’re the bestest. How could they NOT?” Her tone was searching, pleading, her eyes beginning to mist. This HAD to be the princess. “I worked so hard to find you…”

brightyn couldn’t stand there and watch this little girl’s hopes and dreams shatter at her feet. instead, she smiled, “ hey now, “ she offered, keeping her voice soft, “ i never said that i wasn’t a princess. “ 

out of the victors and mentors, nine held only stake. for years upon years, brightyn had been overlooked by most tributes -- deemed easily forgotten -- so this moment warmed her from the inside out. it wasn’t for anything useful, but it still made her feel good and made her think of home... of her sisters.

“ princesses look just like you and me, “ she asked, then making her voice even softer, “ are you a princess, too? “ she asked, “ you look like one. “

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

This was clear. The princess was magical. There was no doubt in Monday’s little mind that this was Misty Shore. She spoke kindly, softly… her hair was long and pretty, she was clearly a princess in every way.

The phrase ‘a little birdy’ was used in eleven. Lots. Usually when September was telling her she’d been rattled on. But with the princess… Monday could believe a bird had perched on her finger and told her. She smiled, clearly wholeheartedly trusting this.

“I’ve been looking everywhere. Rem told me, last night. He said you’re nice and kind and everybody loves you. He said you’re a princess. But I won’t tell. I ain’t no snitch. Cross my heart.”

that was it. that was the kicker right there. she knew instantly that remington had been speaking of someone else. the falsehoods kept coming out of the little girl’s mouth only further suffocated her. what brightyn had hoped to be just a fluke of chance turned out to be gut punch.

but she smiled, promising that she wouldn’t tell a soul about this mistake. thank heavens for small blessings. at least she could be hopeful that the mishap would stay a secret.

“ thank you, monday, “ she said, “ but, i think youre looking for one of my friends. you see, princesses look just like you and me. “

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

monday glowed. “I found you!” she had! she had! this was her thirteenth ask today, and she’d found Rem’s princess friend!

and then her eyes went to the size of dinner plates. a princess… much less, THE princess, according to rem… knew. her. name. W O W ! ! ! “y-yeah! i’m Monday! Monday Twilight! you know who I am? how?”

brightyn smiled, watching the little girl’s face light up. honestly, she wasn’t sure who she was talking about, she wasn’t aware of any princesses in panem, but she was happy to oblige. whomever the girl was looking for, she must’ve been passable for she.

she smiled warmly and her voice remains soft, “ a little bird told me, “ she cooed. there’d been stories of princesses locked away in towers with animal friends since time had begun. “ who told you i was here? will you promise not to tell a soul? “

[bri9htyn]

𝒾𝓏𝒶𝓇𝒶

izara wasn’t one for pep talks or pre-training district huddles; she expected her tributes to do as they needed to win and had full faith that the most skilled would live while the rest died. her advice was earned, not handed out freely. and she didn’t encourage the hope of survival; izara was many awful things but she wasn’t a liar.

when she overheard the speech being given to district nine’s tributes just outside the training center, she decided she needed some air. but then, the mentor spoke up. “oh of course, the best time of the year.” her voice was dry, monotone. izara had much better things to do than parade around the year’s newest tributes, no matter how they may temporarily pique her interest.

“i’m sure it will be a short journey for them, you won’t have to wait long until they’re off your plate,” izara responded with a grin, looking after the two tributes as they entered the training center. 

the careers had always been a hurdle. there was no part of her that could compete with them. it had been fourteen years and she’d yet to have a victor. the kids in nine just weren’t cut out for it. they were strong, yes, but often times lacked the will to fight more than any other reason for loss. their will to survive often kicked in after the games had already begun, leaving them drunk on adrenaline... and she hoped that maybe one day, she’d get one that would want to survive and go home to see their family.

“ i’m sure it will be, “ she said, nodding, knowing already that these kid’s families already have burial plots and services planned. “ i just hope it’s fast... “ her voice tapered off. “ your’s seem more than prepared, good luck... “ she offered the hope for the career. it was normally a career who won. there was nothing saying that this year would be any different. 

[bri9htyn]

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

monday was looking for a princess.

Rem had said there was one who was a victor, a princess. a real one! and Monday’s childlike nature - newly released into the world - was determined to find her. so monday, before settling down at any one station, searched out every victor girl to ask.

she saw Brightyn walk away and slowly limped after her. “Hi! are you a princess?” she may not look the right age to have won last year, but Monday herself looked only nine or ten. so it didnt hurt to ask.

and just like that, brightyn felt her heart shatter. in fact, she was sure the pieces lay on the floor in trillions of shards. how could she say no?

“ uhm, “ she stuttered, feeling an ache deep in her chest. she didn’t know how to answer this question... she’d only ever been asked to play princess at home. but, the look of excitement on the child’s face warmed her and took her back to where her soul was at ease. she didn’t want to lie, this kid was a tribute, monday, from eleven, but she was young and she had not a single chance. 

“ i am, “ she said, smiling and taking a knee to get closer to the little girl’s level, “ you’re monday, right? “ 

[bri9htyn]

“ listen, “ brighyn started, her voice as tired as she was. every day in the capitol felt like an eternity and she longed to recluse up into her room for as long as she could.  “ none of us want to be here, this is a tough time of year,“ she said, her voice a bit softer than she realized it was. year after year she watched the friends of her siblings die under her watch and this year was no different. “ make the best of this... “ her words were hopefully an inspiration to her tributes before sending them off into the training room with the others.

she pressed her back against the wall and sighed. she didn’t want this. she didn’t ask for this. why did she have to be here? wasn’t what she’d been through enough? her heart was breaking again. 

her head turned and she watched another victor do the same -- except their tributes obviously far more skilled than hers. she turned her head and decided to mind her own business, and headed for the elevator. “ happy games, “ she offered the familiar face that joined her on the stroll.