Conquer

As I'm watching all the stars burn out; Trying to pretend that I care; But I didn't, no one ever does, and I would, no one ever will Cepheus Dayne 30 | District IV | 66th Games Victor | Mentor | Captain of the Triad

[heather-levesque-blog]

None the Wiser ‖ Heather and Cepheus

[heather-levesque-blog]

Heather raised an eyebrow at Cepheus when he turned back to look her, his jaw clenched as if he was holding back a scowl. Annoyance flashed in his eyes as they both made their way to the gates if their prison.

Heather paid him no mind, merely continuing to smooth down Kitty’s fur as she hissed violently at her companion. Regardless of their… grievances towards each other, they would still have to exit the grounds first before they could be rid of each other’s presence.

Her unruffled demeanour exhibited an aura of indifference towards Cepheus, however she couldn’t help the slight grit of her teeth. It seemed that Cepheus had made it his personal mission to pester her incessantly. And to have the audacity to be annoyed just by her mere presence, when he was the one who so rudely invaded her personal space in the first place. She hummed discontentedly.

Perhaps a trip to the nearby pastry shop was in order.

Slowing to a stop, she nuzzled Kitty sweetly before whistling a different two-note whistle. Go home. Kitty meowed in reply, butting her head against Heather affectionately. She jumped to the ground, pausing briefly to snarl a warning in Cepheus’s direction, before traipsing back home.

Her heart could melt from how adorable she was.

A breeze blew past, making her shiver in her coat. She shoved her hands into her pockets and walked briskly to the gates, eager for a cup of hot chocolate to ward off the bitter cold.

[cephdayne-blog]

“Seriously—” he casually commented upon being greeted by Heather once more, though he was at the very least relieved that the creature is no longer with her. “You’re not my poltergeist.”

“You know that, right?” Seeing as how Heather still seemed to be tracing his path, he slowed down and questioned her airily, trying to seem as unbothered as possible, though he was mostly just reflecting the younger girl’s unspoken response.

Ignore her? On more than one occasion he had thought to warm up to the other, and while Heather was not exactly hard to read, he still couldn’t get a firm hold on whether she would actually harbor hostile thoughts of him or not. Her reactions to him could sometimes be contradictory, or just entirely offbeat. Although he was quite sure he wouldn’t have given her any solid reason to antagonize him.

Naturally, he did not expect any vocal response from the girl. Given the cumbersome situation in which he had to occupy the same space as her, he decided to roll with the same silent treatment Heather had been agonising him with.

Contrary to popular belief, he could be rather good at that.

[heather-levesque-blog]

None the Wiser ‖ Heather and Cepheus

[heather-levesque-blog]

“… At least one of you is willing to express yourselves,” Cepheus muttered under his breath. Heather resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she brushed Kitty’s fur back fondly.

“Don’t tell me this is a coincidence,” Cepheus scoffed, “You must have been planning to ambush me.” Heather sighed through her nose as she turned away from him. She wondered how he managed to leave his house each day, with a head as big as his.

“Say, commander Heather,” remarked Cepheus as he walked around Heather, not unlike how a predator might approach its prey. Kitty hissed threateningly as Cepheus stopped right in front of Heather, blocking her path. Instinctively, she took a step back. Her expression hardened as she stared at Cepheus.

Undeterred, Cepheus continued. “What is your next strategy, following the tumble of your vanguard?” Heather pursed her lips. She was tempted to unleash Kitty’s wrath on the other Victor. His tone and movements were snake-like, even more so than usual.

His mouth quirked up in a smile. “Or I suppose your grin would tell me all.”

Heather quelled down the panic that had been building in her chest. Only joking. Only a joke. She forced her features to relax, trying to come across as more carefree than she felt. Shooting Cepheus a falsely sweet smile, she walked past him towards the iron gates.

[cephdayne-blog]

If she wasn’t going to talk, there was no reason for Ceph to continue the scene. He shrugged airily, and with a raise of his brows which almost bore resemblance to an eye roll, he continued past Heather, before responding to her feigning smile with a sardonic one of his own.

“Guess I’ll see more of you tonight then,” he nodded at her, raising his arm in a salutation as he drew apart their distance, selectively ignoring the hissing creature clutched tightly in the girl’s arms, as provocative as it was. It almost felt as much as a teasing challenge to him as the one that seems to surround getting the young victor to talk again, though it was hardly a task worth his effort, were he to pay any mind of it to begin with. Despite the personal offences he may take up against Heather’s dismissive attitude, he had to admit that a muted companion could be just as dreadful as a psychologically impoverished one, and definitely not in a stimulating way.

Following his original plan, Cepheus reverted his attention back to himself and traipsed along the well maintained pavement leading the way to the nearest patisserie. Intending to drag out the senseless morning as much as humanly possible, he kept his pace slower and more laxed than usual, and unruffled as he was, he paid little attention to whomever he may have passed by.

Feeling an unshakable presence however, he glanced back before reaching the gates that would lead him out of the victor’s village, brewing up an unabashed comment if he were to find anyone trailing behind him.

[cephdayne-blog]

Cepheus - moodboard(2/-)

❝ Take my wine in my own cup, friend. It loses its wreath of foam when poured into that of others. ❞

[rewritethestarsxx]

Coffee & Fresh Air | Audrina and Cepheus

[cephdayne-blog]

audrina-collins:

Audrina took a sip of her coffee and couldn’t help but smile softly as the warm liquid passed her lips. This had to have been her third cup in the last six hours or so, but this one was different. It was better. Hospital coffee just didn’t taste quite like that of the cafe’s down the street. She was thankful for this cup. 

“Oh, please, sit down!” Audrina replied to Ceph, standing as he approached, and motioning towards the armchair facing the one where she had taken up temporary solace. “It’s better I sit here and chat with someone, otherwise I’d be falling asleep sitting up right here, and that’s not something which needs to happen.” She continued with a light chuckle.

Truthfully Audrina was thankful that Ceph had showed up. She hadn’t been ready to head home quite yet and her night at work had seemed to go on for days. She needed human interaction outside of the hospital before retreating back to her den to recharge.

“I know, I was a bit of a recluse for the party. I kept to myself in the corner, mostly drinking. I drank too much.” She admitted with a smirk, “As usual, though. But I am alive and well as we speak.” She said with a reserved shrug. 

“My brother is doing alright as far as I’m aware. I believe he’s spent the last couple of days around the house. I’ve been running errands, taking care of things around the house, and working. Honestly we haven’t seen much of each other.”

“Found a nice spot,” he commented, raising his brows ever slight as he traipsed towards the armchair across Audrina, taking a gentle sip from his refreshment in the meantime. “Thank you,” he smiled, connecting their gaze.

“Didn’t we all,” he chuckled, leaning into a table to place his glass down and easily shrugging of his sobriety. “Would have thought that Coin would attempt to limit our intake. She probably figured out that sometimes drunk people could be more easily manipulated though.” He didn’t quite mean it, though neither was it a blind assumption. He thought that if anything, the amount of peacekeepers stationed at all the galas they were made to attend made it rather clear that Coin knew what she was doing and did not intend to take any chances. He was surprised that there has yet to be any casualties.

“At least I could say that I have taken good care of him during the party, no?” He leaned back into his armchair, his voice receding with a hint of enervation as he glanced out the window. “Same old then,” he remarked, “I do hope that no trouble has found its way to him.” With an apparent life style as simple as the victor’s, it was surprising how badly things could still go south despite all the pampering, Ceph was lucky to have faked a convincing stable façade so he wouldn’t be followed around by doctors.

“Busy, I suppose… has work been treating you alright though? I mean I haven’t really heard of any blasting headlines not related to the most recent victor. Can only assume that everyone else is going about with their normal drill.”

[rewritethestarsxx]

Coffee & Fresh Air | Audrina and Cepheus

Audrina wasn’t quite sure just how many days had passed since the Victory Tour Celebration. She had spent the day following wandering about The Capitol, going to the store and running various errands, and trying to shake off the hangover from the party. She wasn’t really hungover, she just felt like she was because big parties weren’t typically her cup of tea. Parading herself around alongside her brother at the big “celebrations” was exhausting.

Parading herself around at parties was almost more exhausting than work. Her day off was nice, but she had spent the next two days working in the hospital. Audrina liked her job, it wasn’t the most exciting job in the world, but when one is a nurse, sometimes it’s better when there’s not much excitement, especially in a place like The Captiol. 

She was, however, in the midst of training alongside a pediatric nurse. Since arriving to The Capitol five years ago, she worked as a trauma nurse or aided in general surgery, but she was getting bored. She missed their home in Ten where she would tend to animals and help deliver new babies in the spring. She knew the job was different with humans, but it was something that sparked her interest.

After what felt like the longest night shift she had ever worked, Audrina stepped out of the hospital around 8 a.m., taking in a big breath of fresh air. She enjoyed nights especially when she left work just as everyone else was beginning to start their days. The streets were still quiet, a good kind of quiet, and she appreciated that. She hadn’t grown fond of the sounds of the city quite yet. 

Still in her dark blue scrubs she made her way down the street. She wasn’t ready to go home and go to bed yet so she figured she would venture out for some coffee. Thankfully, the side of the city with the hospital was one of the less populated areas and happened to house one of her favorite coffee shops, one that seemed to only attract victors and close friends. The Capitolites seemed to stray elsewhere.

Upon arriving, she scanned the place. For the most part it seemed fairly calm, she assumed everyone was either already getting on with their day, or hadn’t quite made it. She ordered a latte from the counter before finding an arm chair adjacent to one of the big windows towards the back of the shop, a spot secluded enough to give her the peace that she desired but also gave her a good view of the shop. After a moment she noticed Cepheus walk in.

[cephdayne-blog]

There could have been more catastrophic consequences resulting from a mishap from a party such as the victory tour celebration, Cepheus was therefore grateful that he played out most things smoothly. Life in the Capitol resorted back to its normal rhythm, the gears clasped together turning placidly with little to no unforeseen surprises. It was their known peace, perhaps, or at least a convincing illusion of it.

Driven by his occasional need out of his gilded cage, Ceph found himself wandering into the city with no real destination. Though with a deep enough wallet and a mood that was easily satisfied for the moment, his aimlessness was hardly unwelcomed. The less populated sectors of the Capitol were those he found himself frequenting, and it included everything from a few high class clubs to simply well laid out restaurants. With a lack of appetite and a need for relaxation for the moment however, he set his eye on one of the finest cafes around, one that felt nearly reserved for victors and acquaintances alike, much to his affinity.

He noticed upon his arrival how calm the place was, it was likely most people still needed their privacy and peace as it was but a few days since the big celebration. Though to his delight, he spotted a friendly face among the scattered populace, as she seemed to have spotted him.

“Iced coffee, thanks. With milk.” He smiled easily at the server by the counter as he flashed a bill towards them, leaning idly against the surface as he waited for his order, shooting a soft smirk towards Audrina’s direction before making his way towards her with his refreshment.

“I missed you at the fest, Audrina. Though I see you’re holding up alright? Allow me to assume.” He greeted her softly as he stopped a few feet away. His voice kept low, and rather gentle as opposed to his usual disposition.

“I shall leave you alone if you wish, but would like to know how Colton is doing.”

[heather-levesque-blog]

None the Wiser ‖ Heather and Cepheus

Heather woke up to Kitty meowing loudly in her ear. Groaning, she turned over, only to get a face full of fur. Seeing that her mistress was awake, Kitty climbed down the bed, and scampered off to find breakfast. Reluctantly, Heather sat up in bed, eyes squinting under the bright sunlight pouring in through her window.

Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs to the living room. Her stomach growled loudly despite last night’s substantial feast. Her mother smiled from where she sat reading on the couch, before pointing towards the metallic hole in the wall. She grimaced. Heather considered not getting her schedule just to spite Coin, but then she remembered that Coin was not above punishing misbehaving Victors. Grudgingly, she stuck her wrist in and waited impatiently as her schedule was inked onto her body.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she looked over her schedule. To her annoyance, it seemed that she was going to be interviewed by Caesar Flickerman tonight.

With Cepheus Dayne, no less.

She scowled, before reaching for her mom’s home-made bread. It was dark, crescent-shaped and sprinkled with seeds- just like the ones from home. The familiar savoury taste warmed her heart, lifting her mood a little. Unfortunately, she was still miffed that she had to be interviewed by Caesar again. Especially the day right after the Victor Party. She didn’t understand why Coin still wanted her to be interviewed. It wasn’t like she had anything to say. Still, disobeying Coin wasn’t exactly an option. The repercussions were not appealing, to say the least.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she thought of the other person that would be at the interview. Cepheus Dayne… He was an alright dude, as long as he didn’t try to hit on her. Maybe having him as an interview buddy wouldn’t be too bad; he could do all the talking for her.

As she finished her bread, Kitty sauntered into the kitchen and began meowing impatiently, tapping incessantly at Heather’s feet. She smiled affectionately at her.

Kitty was a… rather weird cat. Unlike most cats, she liked going out of the house and running about the neighbourhood.

She whistled a simple two-note tune, the signal that they were going out for a walk. Kitty immediately turned and rushed out the front door. Grabbing a bottle of water, Heather chased after Kitty before the inquisitive cat could get herself into trouble.

They strolled down the main road leisurely, Kitty running forwards occasionally to inspect things along the road. A dead leaf, a fallen flower, a shiny wrapper. She pawed through them deliberately, before moving on to the next piece of trash. As they passed by a big mansion, Kitty perked up as a tall figure exited the building. Kitty hissed ferociously before pouncing after the one and only Cepheus Dayne. Heather barely managed to hold her back before she could claw his eyes out.

Kitty yelped and struggled in Heather’s arms, wanting a go at the suspicious man. She shushed and petted her fur soothingly, calming her down. As Kitty settled into her arms, Heather smirked smugly at Cepheus.

[cephdayne-blog]

Things were sliding back into the usual rhythm, but least it seems that Coin still had shreds of humanity in her as to not overwhelm her pawns with tightly knitted schedules of one obligation after another. After easing himself through his morning routine, Cepheus idly shuffled through the neatly laid out corridors of his mansion towards his parlour to retrieve his schedule for the rest of the day. His chuckle quickly dissipated as he remembered the incidental encounter with his partner-to-be for the spectacle tonight, some taste of a sardonic simper delineated across his easeful features.

The sudden remembrance of his encounter with the young victor the night before struck a particular craving for pastries in him despite feeling as though he’s already had his fill. Briefly running through his expected appointments, he readily devised a plan for his intermission before escorts would come and mingle with his endeavours. Dressed in a modest white shirt, he snatched a worn Denim jacket on his way towards the door, leisurely putting it on as he exited his mansion.

He certainly did not expect to be greeted right away. He took a distracted step back as a furious flash of white and grey latched onto him, as perplexing as it was, he remained collected though not entirely appreciative of the disagreeable gesture.

“… At least one of you is willing to express yourselves,” he glanced mockingly at the feline as the girl settled her down, the slight twitch of his eyebrows gave away his suppressed intent to hiss back at the insolent critter.

“Don’t tell me this is a coincidence,” he quipped, tuning his gaze away from the struggling bundle of fur to the smirking girl holding her down. His lips drew into a slight grin as he addressed her. “You must have been planning to ambush me.”

“Say, commander Heather Levesque,” he paused, raising his tone slightly in a sophisticated manner as he walked around Heather onto the sidewalk before turning back to her, “what is your next strategy, following the tumble of your vanguard?”

“Or I suppose your grin would tell me all.”

[cephdayne-blog]

All but wasted breaths | Colton & Cepheus

@colt-collins

It wasn’t much of the alcohol’s influence, but the later events of last night went through in a blur. Cepheus could recall quiet clearly of what happened after the party, though it was how he ended up with company in his bed the following morning that stirred up bemusement in him.

He stretched lazily upon awakening in the morning just around when the clocks are about to strike nine. It was a conditioned instinct, that no matter how plastered he was the night before he would nearly always awake at roughly the same hour, if not earlier, if he intended so. He was unburdened, embraced by only his blanket and clasped in between the clean sheets. His head was reasonably clear, despite the considerable amount of liquor he filled himself with the night before, the day showed promise aside from the distant aggravation inflicted by his duties to the Capitol. He laid flat for another few moments, running through the possible chores awaiting him in his head before noticing the slightly discordant weight distribution on his mattress.

That being said, fragments seem to be coming back to him as he turned his head and tugged at the sheets, not wanting to startle the other or cause any commotion.

After all, he wasn’t the one with anything to lose.

[cephdayne-blog]

rhys-archer:

“Panem needs a lot of things,” he muttered, bringing the bottle to his lips for another swig. A big change was one of them, bigger than the one that Coin had brought. 

Rhys had been tired of the same routine year after year. Training kids to kill each other in the Arena, breaking apart families and destroying the lives of so many kids for the sake of control. Even beyond The Games, the power play was extreme. The media manipulating the public to its will, painting some of The Victors as far more unstable than they actually were. Anything to knock down their credibility a few notches.

Perhaps it was best to take Ceph’s neutral route. Back when Snow had been President, Rhys had played the facade of neutrality up until he was more involved with the rebellion. It got him certain information he couldn’t have received if he picked a side. Because had he showed he was a rebel, Snow would have had him killed a long time ago. Hell, he was surprised Coin bothered to keep him alive for this long.

He was just tired of living in constant fear worrying about what was going to happen, how people’s lives would be put on the line the next day. All for the sake of President Coin keeping her position a little bit longer. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could make the best of this life, not after these past five years, Or even the years after his own Games.

“I like to think it does, too,” he agreed. “The chance for a change is there, just…” His head turned down along the bar toward a small crowd gathered at the corner of the counter, glancing his way occasionally and speaking amongst themselves. Coin had ears everywhere, and it was hard enough to figure out who reported to her. Last thing he wanted was to have Ceph get dragged into trouble for anything Rhys had said. At the same time, Rhys could care less if The Capitol heard what he said. They already knew where he stood.

“We just need the right people in power,” he finished, keeping his voice low. After another drink, Rhys gave a shrug of his good shoulder, “but what do I know? Could just be the alcohol making me ramble.”

“Unfortunately–” he drawled out nonchalantly, lifting his bottle to down the rest of the contents before connecting his gaze with Rhys once more, he voice aloof and solemn in the same breath. “The right ones for the job aren’t usually the ones that bother to rise to the top.”

“Power is a powerful intoxicant, oh it is,” he continued, drawing his gaze away from the other as he surveyed the refreshments table for more mind numbing draughts, trying to get the air between them to remain relatively leisurely. “It’s kind of an illusion too, honestly. But a damn well realized trick that incarcerated our entire race throughout all known history.”

In a way, the desire for power was only of natural instinct, and thus, practically impossible to escape from. The Panem they have known was a particularly calamitous result of that particular human nature no doubt, though neither has history proven a better path for humanity to follow. When it comes down to it, perhaps, mankind have never evolved past being savages.

“Ramble, of course.” He chuckled easily, “I’d also call it truth serum. Don’t worry, if anyone wants you trouble they’d have bit you already. Though I guess it can’t hurt to be more careful, our government can be rather… sensitive.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion in the public, either some argument had occurred and went particularly wrong, or that he has mistaken and it was just part of the whole ludicrous show. Nonetheless, even as it went past his mind as sudden as it had distracted him, Cepheus noticed from a few tables away some avoxes pushing in a towering ceremonial cake and a pyramid of champagne. It was far too ostentatious for him to ignore.

“Oh, goodness. What message are they trying to send now,” he quirked a brow at Rhys, hinting at the emerging spectacle, sarcastically humourous.

“Well, cheers to that. Shall I get you some?”

END

[cephdayne-blog]

colt-collins:

It was strange to feel so at ease around someone who should’ve been a stranger to him – someone who he couldn’t relate to simply because they were from two separate worlds. Him from a beach community where fishing was their livelihood and Colt from the plains who learned the trade of cattle raising and slaughter for the benefit of the Capitol and earned nothing in return for himself. The people he surrounded himself with back home in District Ten were strong, but they had to be in order to survive. There was no other method and Colt felt like he betrayed that notion in multiple ways. Yes, he was a survivor in the biggest way Panem knew, but there was another part of him that felt separated, like he really didn’t belong in any world anymore.

Perhaps that’s why he felt as lost as he did. Maybe that’s why Audrina could look at him and not see a familiar face. He didn’t even recognize himself in the mirror sometimes and it bothered him more than Colt would admit. He wanted to feel familiar again to himself. Perhaps that’s why when Ceph came around, he didn’t feel like a stranger. He knew that Ceph didn’t care to coddle his feelings. The District 4 man was his own anomaly in himself. After all, Corvus Everhart had made an anomaly out of Colton Collins. 

“‘ppreciate that,” Colt muttered with a soft chuckle before it faded away as fast as it came, tossing away the cigarette after one last puff before taking back the lighter and putting it back in his coat. He crossed his arms and looked at the man as he questioned him once more. Colt shrugged toward it. “She’s here,” he answered. “Jus’ gettin’ a drink r’ somethin’. Dunno what she’s doin’, honestly.”

“I see, I see…” he breathed out again as he glanced over at Colton, trying to avert his attention from his partly exposed wrist covered in scars, some even fresh. Ceph never thought that it would be of any meaning or significance for him to care, and so for the most part, he treated Colton like how he would have treated any of his other closer confidences. After all, he has a good load of Coin’s dogs on his tail at all times, in addition to Audrina, it would hardly make any difference for him to express any sort of worries, Ceph would much rather be a part of the diversion. Speaking of Audrina, he partly expected her to hold Colt’s hand around the whole evening, so he was rather surprised to find Colt left to his own brooding session without some sort of sentinel guarding right beside him.

“I take it that she feels alright regarding to you hanging about, potentially talking to strangers then.” His lips pulled into a grin as his gaze peeled into Colt’s, now finishing up his own joint, he turned to face his friend, still leaning against the rail. “I was thinking if you’d want to go for a walk, later. When the crowd is thinner.”

“Unless you have better ideas.” Slightly mirroring the other’s posture, he dipped his free hand into his pocket, standing more relaxingly with an easy composure. “More booze, perhaps?” If he had any chance to tear the sulking look off his face, even temporarily, he would need the assistance of his much more reliable sidekick, in addition to the lack of potential meddlers. While the night may still be young, given Coin’s new obsessive need for absolute control, it was likely that people will start being sent on their way soon. Ceph stared intently into Colt during the brief pause, waiting for his response before he quickly decided that he would insist on dragging him along anyway.

He leaned towards him, giving him an affectionate pet on the shoulder before turning it into a firm grip. “Alright, decided for you. Not gonna let you have the entire evening as a sulkfest. Take your time, but there’s literally all you can eat free desserts, it’s practically a sin to not take advantage of that.”

“C’mon cowboy.” He jested after another brief pause, letting go of Colton’s shoulders as he turned around to rejoin the fest, gesturing Colton to follow him at his own ease. “Shall I at least grab you a drink then?”

“I’ll see to it that you don’t go home tonight feeling like you’ve completely wasted your time. Life, Colton, whatever it means to you. It can still be much more.” He shrugged, but his voice genuine, edged with his usual sophistication and indescribably earnest in the same breath.

“Will you take my hand?”

END

[cephdayne-blog]

Painkiller | Cepheus & Open

[cephdayne-blog]

brynn-galloston:

The concoction was a strange mixture of sweet and bitter, but it warmed her blood and was hardly the worst thing she’d ever tasted. “Indeed, you’re quiet little bar here is like an oasis surrounded by miles of empty desert.” She quipped, eyeing the Capitolites milling about. In many ways, the party was a desert, lacking in anything of interest or substance. Instead, it was all empty wasteland. “Tragically, I forgot my medal for ‘Magnificent Drink Mixing’, so I suppose you’ll just have to accept a verbal compliment instead.”

A genuine laugh made its way from her, and Brynn shook her head at the absurdity of it all. She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d describe her relationship with Cepheus, but she didn’t dwell on it too much. She enjoyed his company and they had a similar sense of humor, which made these sorts of events all the more fun once she’d finally grown bored of the Capitolites. In fact, when she really thought about it, he was probably the closest thing she had to a friend. While it may not be anything like she imagined, she didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or coming across in the correct light around him. Where her isolation was a consequence of her upbringing, his was elected, so she imagined he didn’t really care if she said acted strangely sometimes since he kept talking to her anyway. 

Moreover, they did share a similar mentality when it came to the Games, a rare enough thing in and of itself, and its role in their own lives. While many were emotionally shattered by it, they were left with a devil-may-care attitude towards the Games, and easily grew to feel the same towards those who sought to condemn them for their part in them. It did surprise her that he was so keen on chatting with her when she struck up a conversation with him at her own Victor’s party all those years ago, especially since her mentor was directly responsible for the death of his sister, but now it made more sense. His response was just another thing they had in common. They didn’t bother taking anything like that personally. They were Careers, after all.

Brynn gave him a dramatized once over as he spoke, mirth sparkling in her eyes. “Well, you definitely don’t belong in a dive bar, that’s for sure. Though, I think a leather vest might work a bit better than a suit like that.” She quipped. It was quite a notion, being a bar tender and learning the secrets of anyone who sat down for a drink. She imagined one could earn a lot more than money that way. Following his gaze, she gave a sigh, “I’m not sure I’d call anyone here exotic. They’re just…” shallow, boring, empty, “…tacky.”

She heard more than saw his sly grin as she turned back to him and she raised a brow in curiosity, wondering what he had in mind. No doubt it would stir up all kinds of trouble, but over the last few years, she found she was less interested in being the straight-laced Victor than she had been. After all, being loyal to Snow hadn’t earned her anything during her stay as a prisoner of the Capitol during the rebellion. “Pour me another and I’m sure I could be convinced.”

“That would certainly be dreadful, and, I happen to like the more modest way I dress.” He winked at her with a slight crane of his head, slowly swirling his own glass in rhythmic circles before he took a generous sip from it. He lifted his gaze back to her. “Wouldn’t want to be too distracting now, would we?”

“People are shallow enough.” While he ended on a light hearted note, they both knew the statement unfortunately rang true. Even when disregarding the heavy prejudice against much of the born and bred Capitolites, the hierarchy of Panem did not allow for much enlightenment of much of its citizens. Blatantly speaking, far too many people sought after the comfort of allowing one leader or the other toy with their lives like dice, providing them with some abstract belief of meaning in their meaningless existence. Though who could blame them? The game they played, more often than not, proved that nothing was worth the gamble, and that the universe was completely indifferent to their occurrences.

Besides, supposed victories only seemed to tear people apart in more ways than imaginable.

“Now now Brynn, lets take care of their fragile egos.” He chuckled at her word choice, both understood the sarcastic element in their statements. “We must take careful attention so that our intentions to inspire their self consciousness can go through properly.” It seemed that even a victor’s influence could only extend so far. Though not for nothing, Cepheus had in the past tried to inspire self awareness in a multitude of people he superciliously deemed to lack the quality. Regrettably, it only seemed to feed into his ever growing disappointment, aimed not just at their tragic society, but also slowly at himself.

He’s always been aware that people like him is a tumour that needs to be removed, but year after year of solidifying the realisation that all others wanted was for him to suffer as much as they do stripped away just about every last bit of him that would have been willing to bleed for others. A stubborn conclusion, but it served him right. There are no reasons that he would need to change.

“At your service.” Delighted by her interest, he glanced back at his counter and the collection behind him, hoping for some other inspiration to spark and in hopes to keep up the quality of his reception of his old friend. The unexpected shortage of ingredients he collected earlier meant that he would have to nudge himself in some other direction. “Though do you have anything else in mind, I am running out of oranges… who would have thought.” That was when it hit him, one of the first recipes he learned.

“But, I could still do with these pineapples.” He joyously raised a brow and started mixing a new drink as he smiled back at her, sparing the glitter this time, they proved that they will deliver no salvation.

“Hear, this one’s got an interesting title, and was one of my first.” Effortless was his delivery as he filled up two clean cocktail glasses, pushing one towards his companion as he picked up his own draft and stood back up straight. While the night now seemed promising, he couldn’t help but let out a hint of his melancholy.

“They call it Lifesaver.” He raised his glass to her once more, waiting for her to respond.

“If only.”

END

[cephdayne-blog]

Painkiller | Cepheus & Open

[cephdayne-blog]

dianaatwoodxcataclysmic:

She shook her head, “No, I’m not allergic to coconut.” Diana was caught off guard by his charm. It of course wasn’t difficult to come across inhabitants of The Capitol who were utterly charming, among other things, but it was rare that Diana encountered one who didn’t cause for her to stifle an eye roll. Her mother had raised her to play hard to get quite well, and most days she was thankful for that talent.

Her eyes followed his hands as he finished whipping up a mix what looked like it really could kill some sort of pain. She had hoped that she would be thankful for this encounter. She wasn’t sure how many more conversations about Mercury she could stand. 

The intent gaze in her eyes fell to the glass as he poured the drink into it. She had never felt more intrigued by the sound of a drink before, and she would not have normally accepted a drink made by a complete stranger, but she figured she’d shake things off a bit for the night.

She took the glass from his hands and her gaze moved back up so that she could get a good look at his eyes. Dreamy. she thought.

“My name is Diana.” She informed him with a grin. “And you’re quite good, I’m not from The Capitol at all.” She finished, refraining from adding that she was from Twelve just yet. To some, it was not on their list of favorite districts of Panem. 

She raised her glass ever so slightly to his, “I will cheers to that and then you’ve got to reveal to me who you are.” 

“Diana, may your presence rejuvenate this festive evening, it is ever so evanescent.” Cepheus offered his glass with a slight crane of his head, followed by an opalescent smile as he peered into her cerulean irises, brimming ever slightly with reverence. “Cepheus Dayne, District four.” He clinked his glass with hers in a swift yet elegant motion with a smooth delivery in his tone, their eye contact drawing out in sync with their laxed respiration.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” he brought the glass back closer to his lips as his voice drawled out softly, his tone hinted at mutual respect and engagement rather than to elevate his already pampered esteem. Taking a generous sip out of his drink, he peeled his gaze back onto her once more, one of a courteous and inquisitive probe rather than a provocative one. In that brief moment of companionship they shared, Diana was already able to latch a distinct impression on him. There was something intrinsically different about her, one that was appropriately attenuated yet eminent in her subtle gestures and voiced articulately through her aesthetic. Cepheus had no intention as to pressing on her origin in Panem, which meant that she would liking just be another face lost in the crowd, yet at the same time, he had a sensing that this wouldn’t be the last he would see of her.

“Not a Capitolite, a fresh breath for the both of us, no?” he paused, gently nursing his drink as he continued. “You do carry yourself like a veteran for a fest like this one though. I suppose the glamour and endless uninspired small talks haven’t drained out the life in you yet.” He chuckled softly, almost to himself, a pensive quality peering from his drowning gaze as his attention drew back to the air between them.

“I hope my beverage lived up to its title,” he grinned, his posture composed as Diana’s words folded right up into the moment, her inspective gaze crossing path with his own. “Truthfully speaking, I’d rather like to satirise the kind of names people have came up with for drinks. I mean, I’m sure you’d have heard of rather indecorous ones. Could take an inventive mind to appreciate.”

Surrounding them were chattering and the clashing of silverwares to meshed into an array of dissonance, with the sound of a distant commotion brewing up, Ceph widened his gestures of reception inferring that Diana could make her decision of the extent of his hospitality.

“In honour of this lavishing night, however. Lets keep our tastes cultivated, shall we?”

Paying no mind to the clamorous mansion, he fetched a napkin as he leaned gently onto the bar counter, his expressions telling. 

He would like his night to be peacefully enriching, indisputably for the benefit of his own dilapidated mind, and nothing shall stop him from making the best out of it. Not even if the woman seated across him right now happened to be yet another fan of annual children slaughter, a Coin spy or the vengeful associate of some person he might have offended.

Nothing ever will. Nothing ever has.

END

[cephdayne-blog]

❝ There is a reason I'm still standing I never knew if I'd be landing And I will run fast, outlast Everyone that said no…

All the king's horses and all the king's men Couldn't put me back together again ❞

[quotemadness]

I was quiet, but I was not blind.

Jane Austen (via quotemadness)

[cephdayne-blog]

colt-collins:

Colt tried not to get worked up over things that wouldn’t mean much in the end. It wasn’t as though Ceph had tried to confuse him on purpose. He was glad that Ceph didn’t look at Colt like a complete moron. While he wasn’t textbook educated, he had a good reason not to be. He made up for it with life experience and the way that he seemed to observe the world around him and the people who thrived and suffered within it. The 66th Victor was one of the many that Colt had found suffered just as much as the worst around them. Colt didn’t think that Ceph would purposely ask those questions without meaning or with any ill intent on Colt’s part. There were just certain things, unique things, about each Victor that most people couldn’t bare to understand. 

Colt figured that the rhetorical questions that sometime escaped into the air from Ceph’s mouth were one of those things. At least it proved that Ceph was okay with talking to Colt regardless of whether or not he understood them. The explanation of why he said it in general was unnecessary, but it was appreciated. Colt simply shrugged, let his smile come back for a few seconds before it vanished once again into the aether. 

The pat on the shoulder would have made him jump if it was anybody else other than him or Audrina. Those two did have permission to touch him without asking first. Other people didn’t have that luxury. Colt had a hard time receiving a lot of affection and there was only so much trust he was willing to throw around. Despite Ceph’s notorious ways of not caring about a lot of things, Colt at least understood that. He didn’t hold a lot of expectations from the man from District Four. There was a mutual understanding that Colt would forever be thankful for in that regard. 

“Y’er welcome, Ceph,” Colt muttered as he replaced his cigarette in his mouth to take yet another drag, this time holding the stick between his lips as he gave his scarred right arm a scratch when it began to itch.

Colton’s behavior have remained largely unchanged since their initial acquaintance. It was a setting much like the current one, and something that edged the young man’s sorrow, something about the way he tried to contain the whirling chaos of grief that reigned his mind led Cepheus to pry his way to him. That’s how I would have ended up, if I cared, if I was foolish enough adhere to those tendencies. Though it wasn’t just that, it wasn’t just how he was curious or meddlesome, nor did he had the vigilant spirit in him to want to lend a helping hand to someone who seem to have just lost the world despite being crowned a victor.  

Truthfully speaking, it was pity. One out of some protective instinct, and perhaps, familiarity.

He saw in the young and broken boy back then a sentiment long lost in him, or rather, never got to prosper before his spite cultivated into the unfeeling being he was. As different as they were, however, he felt like Colt was able to see through his ploy, to an extent. That under his impervious exterior of hardened emotions, there was a genuine, compassionate piece of his conscience yearning to break free of the chains, tearing itself apart in the process.

Those are but a few parts of him that can never be whole again, before he had lost the competence to care.

“You can afford to ease up a bit now that I’m here. Not gonna let anyone claw at you.” He shrugged easily as he lighted his joint with the dainty lighter, followed by a comfortable breath as he inhaled the tobacco. “Now this is the kind of filth to my liking.” He smiled as he let the roll rest between his lips, attentiveness faded from his gaze as he allowed the night sky to ensnare him after returning the lighter.

“How’s Audrina?” He lent the benign query between his respiration as he breathed out the ashen fumes. “Wouldn’t have expected to see you without her. Was she not invited?”

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[cephdayne-blog]

heather-levesque:

“Right…still not much of a talker eh?” Cepheus remarked idly in an attempt to fill the silence. Heather snorted, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. It seemed that everyone was still interested in the “little munchkin from 11”, as the ever-so-eloquent Caesar Flickerman put it. Or, well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that everyone was still interested in being “the one” to get her talking again. She clenched her jaw in disdain. Well, in spite of popular demand for her voice to be heard again, her resolve to remain mute only strengthened.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you.”

Cepheus’s words made Heather look up in surprise, just in time to catch him winking as he bit the rest of his strawberry. “I’m burdened enough,” he said, almost to himself, rather than to Heather.

The wink would have been enough to convince Heather that Cepheus was just trying get some under-aged action, had it not been for his odd comment after that. It certainly threw her off. She narrowed her eyes at him as she chewed on her blueberry muffin, wondering what he could have meant.

“I’d offer you some drinks but… don’t suppose it’s your thing. I hope you don’t mind me sharing your quarantine for a while,” said Cepheus gently, mistaking Heather’s silence for hostility. “Though say the word, and I’ll leave you to your… recreation.”

Heather snorted out loud. Recreation. That was certainly a way to put it. Heather looked at where Cepheus stood leaning against the wall. He looked surprisingly a little lonely. Perhaps a little company was just what all the Victors needed on a night as vile as this one. Heather shifted her chair so that she could face Cepheus. She pushed her plate of goods towards him, before settling back into her chair as she waited for his response.

Heather’s unwelcoming snort caught his attention, he wasn’t sure what it meant as he wasn’t trying to evoke any reaction from her by his indifferent comment. He was simply looking for reassurance whether or not his presence was intruding, and he seemed to have gotten his answer by the girl’s following gesture.

“For me?” he brow jerked up light heartedly as he finished the last piece of chocolate he had on his plate. An offer to share foods seem the highest honour that could be bestowed upon him by the young victor, and Ceph does not intend to turn it down. He reached for one of the less lavishing piece of biscuit with slight hesitance, wondering if Heather was just testing his virtue.

“I see that you don’t hate me after all.” He commented cordially, leaning in a bit closer to the plate. “Now… as the aging and rotting man I am… I might want to watch my glucose in take.” He smiled at her, blithely pointing to a custard tart, caramalised on the surface giving it an alluring shine.

“Would you recommend this?”

[emeraldxdrood-blog]

Raging || Cepheus and Emerald

[cephdayne-blog]

emeraldxdrood:

Of course the older Victor would begin with a jest. She rolled her eyes, not in annoyance but from the predictability of his joke. She would admit, his pleasant demeanor was soothing to her agitated being. Granted, he didn’t calm her down like Silver seemed able to, but he would do under the circumstances. Anything to help her come down from her encounter with the woodchuck.

“We suppose you’re right. We can always count on them to find some way to entertain even the stiffest crowds.”

Which, unfortunately, included her at the moment. Her head rattled with thoughts and whispers to finish what she started, but she knew she wouldn’t get off so easily a second time. She was lucky enough that the Peacekeeper didn’t send her straight to President Coin for her little “show” with Aspen. She hardly needed to be asked before getting to the heart of the issue.

“Who does Aspen think she is? Congratulations, princess. You’re a Victor. It doesn’t give you the entitlement to act like you can take on the entire world and become a righteous symbol of rebellion. She’s such a brat.”

“Forgive me, young friends. I might still be… deep in my indulgence.” he cleared his throat as he took in Emerald’s expressions. From her gestures, he would have deduced that she was peeved by his nonchalant and slightly aloof attitude, though he knew that there was a definite friendly undertone beneath it. Though whatever her poltergeist may be thinking was beyond him.

“That As—” he halted purposely on that syllable, his voice drawled out naturally as he quirked his brow at Emerald’s complaints. He knew not much of the rivalry between the two back to back victors yet it was hard not to be aware of their less than friendly associations. It was quite expected and even entertaining at times, for an outsider. Naturally, he knew better than to voice it. “She’s a colourful one, for sure.” He gave a light and weathered chuckle in agreement, while Aspen may not tickle his nerves on personal levels that much, he has had his fair share of grievances with her.

“Not surprised over your disagreements, I myself have yet to learn the craft of exorcising the demon woodchuck.” He grieved, though not without his usual unflappable demeanor as he leaned further on the tall table beside him.

“Righteous symbol of rebellion? Her? May the lord deliver us all.”

[cephdayne-blog]

rhys-archer:

Rhys gave a soft smirk at Cepheus’ word choice. Survivor, not Victor. He was still struggling with surviving, barely skating by in the social scene by the skin of his teeth without being on the verge of a breakdown. Rhys was familiar with the signs, teetering on the edge of anxiety while trying to smile for the cameras. it was easier for some, something that Rhys had to grow into. 

“He’s a really good kid,” he agreed with a nod, “quiet and keeps to himself, but he’s a good kid. Maybe when things calm down, and the Capitol hype’s not so extravagant.”

His brow rose as Cepheus had leaned forward to take up some light liquor for the both of them. Rhys was used to the hangover in the mornings, often taking to the bottle to drown out certain thoughts. There was almost a dependency on it, which picked back up once the Victors were back in The Capitol and they fell back into the same routine. But Rhys tried to make an effort to cut back, mainly for the sake of keeping a clear head, especially in Coin’s mansion. “Lighter would be better in that case, then,” he chuckled.

He twisted the cap from the bottle, giving another chuckle at Cepheus’ reply. “All the Capitol’s crap can suck the life out of anybody. I mean hell, look at me, hiding out at the dessert table to avoid anymore of the same old questions. Glad you were around to save my ass.”

Cepheus was tricky to try and figure out when it came to how he carried himself. He seemed content with the ‘New’ Panem, falling easily back into the life of a Mentor, of a Victor in The Capitol. As if none of what most of the others had fought for ever happened. Perhaps it was his way of adapting. Surviving. After all, the Games didn’t end once a Victor got out of the Arena. And both of the veteran Victors were well aware of that.

Cepheus lifted his glass and Rhys followed suit, letting the glass of the bottles clink together gently. His expression softened at the small toast, his gaze falling to the bottle in his hand. “To the kids,” he agreed, taking a swig from the bottle Cepheus had given him. 

“As much as I’m tryng to get back into the swing of things,” he admitted, “I can’t find it in my heart to stick with it. These parties, the Victory Tours, the Games– hard to accept this as life again.”

The hint at a soft smirk on Rhys’ lips was an indication that the veteran had caught on with the intentionally included sentiment of his word choice. While life itself was a game of survival, the government of Panem saw to it that the definition of that was dramatically amplified. In their world, not only did the overused phrase ‘kill or be killed’ would apply, one’s luck and fortune played an exaggerated part as well.

May the odds be ever in your favour. Perhaps the most preposterous tag line ever in any known history.

“You’re noble, Rhys,” he stated genuinely, shedding some of his standoffish demeanour at the mention of the young district three victor. “Panem does need some of your spirit.” His voice trailed off lightly in the end as he reached for the bottles. He nodded gladly at Rhys as the man took his offer.

“I’d say it’s an honour that I get to save your ass.” He smiled as he examined the bottled ale, chuckling back at the other as he tried to decipher the gaze of the senior victor. Ceph hadn’t got anything to hide in regards to his perspective that catered towards indifference. He stood as an individual of no inclination towards a firm alliance, and had also made it clear he was not an explicit enemy of any particular party. While he was never afraid to voice disdain on many of the Capitol’s doings, he does tend to integrate himself into his given life, at least on the surface, much better than many others.

He raised his bottle in a casual salutation as he drank to all that was lost in the last arena. The kids, most of all, but much more at the same time, they both knew it.

“As for this life,” he admitted easily, “I believe that the strength of a mindset can carry one very far. We have to learn to make the best out of everything.”

“Probably doesn’t mean much, though.”

He paused, tuning his attention back to the other as he carefully observed his response.

“Such is the curse of our civilization,” he added, almost like a mourning or prayer uttered on unfaithful lips.

“Heinous as it may be, however, I’d like to think that our land still has a beating heart beneath all this treachery.”