Best Foot Forward

Drake Oliver Thornley. Twin. Dancer. Victor of the 119th Bi-Annual Hunger Games. "Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance and, when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance." 

[drakexthornley]

satchel-mcqueen​:

“Some parts are exciting,” he said, not really argumentative but feeling the desire to disagree. “I’m sure things will get even more so with the feast. It’s bound to be a shitshow.” He was talking like he fucking liked it, like he was discussing a sporting event, but he didn’t know how else to talk about the Games. He loathed them and yet he needed them. They had both given and taken.

“It’s terrifying,” he replied in a hushed tone. He was glad Apple had decided against attending the feast and offering herself up to the more violent and ruthless of the tributes. She’d been given the option to abstain. Drake wished he would’ve been given the option when he was called to the cornucopia. 

[drakexthornley]

poppy-battenberg​:

Poppy kept the door open, leaning back against it as she crossed her arms. The cold was no longer a pleasant relief after her workout, instead only prickling at the sweat still clinging to her skin. She could hear her mother’s voice talking about pneumonia. She let the memories of her mother’s voice ring louder than the victor in front of her as he spoke. “Don’t you have a tribute to pay attention to?”

Drake pulled out his phone, a rarity for it not to be in his hands playing the role of the social crutch he always needed. In all his years spent away from home mentoring, he hadn’t grown any less dependent on it. “I get updates on Apple every time she does anything. Her location, who she’s with, and her injuries all get sent to me so I know how to help.”

[drakexthornley]

luca-acero​:

Luca smiled and nodded. “That’s true” he said then, stepping outside, immediately stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as the cold hit. “I always hated when my hands warmed up after being out in the cold though, stung like hell”

Drake sidestepped to make room for the sponsor beside him on the balcony. “Mittens help,” he noted, holding up a pair that he’d been keeping in his jacket pocket just in-case. “You can have this pair if you want. I just like getting my hands on it, the snow I mean. It’s a childish thing, but I can’t help it.” 

[drakexthornley]

luca-acero​:

Luca couldn’t sit and watch for much longer, his legs antsy as the livestream continued. He decided to go for a walk, but the weather outside forced him to stay inside the tower, roaming the hallways he still hadn’t had a chance to explore just yet. 

He spotted someone out on one of the balconies and decided to check it out, smiling to himself when he realised it was Drake. “Hey– trying to catch your death?”

Drake never imagined he could warm up to anyone from the Capitol, but a handful that included the sponsor proved him wrong. “I’ve got a jacket on, no worries,” he shivered, knowing it would take years before he would ever be used to standing in the snow, if he ever got used to it. “It’s warm inside and I can just go back in when I can’t feel my toes anymore.”

[drakexthornley]

poppy-battenberg​:

Poppy was still sweaty from the training center, but she didn’t want to miss a moment longer and dipped into the first open viewing room she found. The arena looked like it was starting to warm up again, but one glance out the window and she could see there was no chance of spring anytime soon in the Capitol. Also, what the hell? Was that the fucking literal poster boy from Eleven? She didn’t hesitate to slam the door to the balcony open, teeth chattering almost instantly when the chill hit her. “Enjoying your fucking moment of peace?”

Drake’s shoes might’ve been jumped out of and sent over the balcony’s edge if he shared physics with a cartoon character, but instead his heart rate jumped and sent a small ripple through his chest. “I was,” he said, wanting to immediately shift gears as to not sound so rude, but then something stopped him. “Do you have a...problem with that?” He asked in the most question-y way possible and still was about to apologize. 

[drakexthornley]

chip-foster​:

The high that had come with the most daring move of his life had certainly faded. Now he was just anxious, hanging around the Tower even when he wasn’t scheduled to work for the remainder of the Games. Was this the bereavement time in his contract, or was he just looked at as unstable? Both could probably be true. It didn’t matter - he wanted to be close-by. Just in case. 

Just in case of what? Who the fuck knew?

He was stepping out to smoke when he saw one of the younger victors out on the balcony. “Y-You good, man?” he asked as he cast a sideways glance at the outstretched hand.

“I’m alright,” he told him with a nod of his head to be extra convincing. “Just enjoying a little bit of something I don’t get to experience often.” Drake didn’t want to sound like he liked coming to the Capitol because he didn’t, but it was impossible for someone to hate every aspect of a place...right? He adjusted his jacket’s hood to cover his face more. 

[drakexthornley]

satchel-mcqueen​:

He was watching the Games coverage, a bit bored, when he noticed that someone was on the balcony just outside. He tilted his head to get a better look and recognized it as Drake, one of the more recent Victors who he actually remembered. He’d been rooting for him, though he’d really enjoyed the 119th in general; the artists and performers, it was fucking cool, hard to pick a favorite among them.

He zipped up his jacket and stepped outside himself. “Bored of the Games?” he asked. “After a week I’m fucking tired of looking at screens.”

Drake nodded, continuing to let the snow fall into his hand. He couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t mind living in a place where the weather changed frequently like the Capitol seemed to. Eleven was a sunny, green, and beautiful place, but the weather was a mask over the cruelties that often went on there. The snow provided the right sense of wrong that was needed. “I’ve never been a fan of the Games. It isn’t exciting to watch.” Nor was it fun, but that much could already be assumed. 

[drakexthornley]

persephoneleon​:

“what, just because i’m a career means i’m more qualified to keep watch ?? being a career also means i could stab you, so maybe you should go and watch the games for me before that becomes an issue,” percy said, though there was a surprising lack of venom to her tone. maybe this was just how she joked around, sarcastically and.. threateningly.

She’d killed people, likely volunteered to do so and was thrilled to do so, yet still questioned the difference in their qualifications? Drake was unsure if he was being tested or taunted. To be safe, he walked back inside the viewing room to a panning shot of the Games. This only happened when none of the tributes were doing anything, “camera-worthy”. It also meant something was about to happen. 

“We should be working together,” he told her almost as a reminder. “Our tributes chose to work together. Careers or not.” 

[drakexthornley]

persephoneleon​:

“i don’t want to watch either,” percy shrugged, the confession slipping from her lips before she’d as much as realised it, momentarily letting her guard down only because drake had been immediately honest about it too. “so if only one of has to watch, i say you should go and do it. you’re the more experienced mentor anyway, aren’t you ??”

He partially chuckled, unsure of how to worm his way out of having to keep watching. “On paper, but that’s it. You’re more qualified to keep watch than I am.”

[drakexthornley]

persephoneleon​:

“shouldn’t you be watching the games or something ??” percy said, out on the balcony when she probably shouldn’t have been. it was too cold, she should’ve been watching the games too ( but at least she called drake out on it before he could do it to her, and that was the important thing ). despite the way her hands and the tip of her nose were already red, she was only more determined to stay out on the balcony due to drake’s appearance. as if she had to prove something to him somehow. she was sure her ever-present anger would keep her warm, if it came down to it.

Drake snapped from his delightful daydream and unintentionally let the melted snow pour from his hands. He’d been so distant from everyone that he forgot the problems so many of them came with. Percy’s face made him think of Antigone’s sister, whoever she was, and how he had some sort of obligation to keep her from volunteering. There was no way that was possible, but he had to make promises about it anyways.

“I should be, but I honestly don’t want to,” he answered. “Only one of us need to be watching as long as Apple and Silver are together.” 

[drakexthornley]

Much like the arena at the moment, it was snowing and the peach picker inside him couldn’t resist the falling flurries. It wasn’t a good day for standing outside with signs advocating for the rebels to hold back either. Not unless he wanted his nose to go red and his ears to stuff up. Daring only a little bit, Drake stood outside a balcony connected to one of the viewing rooms and let the snowflakes come to a stop in his palm. Anyone could’ve been watching him, but he was completely enamored with the mix of cold sensation and melting warmth.

[drakexthornley]

ccntingent​:​

“isn’t it fucking january ?? what have you been drinking ??” orpheus asked, tone caught somewhere between accusatory, calling drake out on the easy topic of conversation, and some genuine confusion, consideration. that maybe orpheus was wrong and the weather was indeed nice, because it wouldn’t be the first time he’d entirely forgotten what month it was. a chuckle escaped him, as half-genuine as his question had been.

“It is,” he half-laughed back. “Eleven is always in between summer and a month of cold temperatures. Capitol weather is actually pretty refreshing.” Though Drake was inching away from the version of himself who refused to drink before turning 21, he chose not to drink tonight and was sober, of which he was few. 

[drakexthornley]

satchel-mcqueen​:​

“I did have to scrap some fabric choices,” he said, “but I was lucky and got to keep the general designs. Just had to switch out the colors. Abel’s was going to be purple, Liz’s gold, so… I wish they’d have just consulted me on what colors to make the teams.” He sipped from the straw emerging from his fruity drink.

“Mine was already going to be red, for Apple, luckily. It’s better that way, I guess. I get to blend in with all the other red suits.” Drake’s wasn’t even the brightest one in the room, his lacking that sheen others liked. 

[coletteneptune]

Colette spotted Drake and made her way over to him quickly. She needed to be sure that the mentor’s support still belonged to Apple, unwavering. While she had a certain amount of sway, the more people who could support her in the Arena, the better. “Seems our girl’s doing alright,” she said.

@drakexthornley​

[drakexthornley]

“She is,” he agreed happily. “Have you sent her anything? I’ve been waiting until it looks like she needs something.” Drake didn’t want to be wasteful with what the sponsors provided him with. Apple could verbally make requests of him too, which was always helpful. 

[drakexthornley]

Drake wasn’t sure if the platter of caramel apples was meant for his tribute of the same name, but he elected to eat one in honor of her. One bite in and he momentarily forgot about the sticky situation she was in, instead focusing on how his teeth seemed to glue together in a sugary bliss. “You have to try one of these,” he told the girl seated beside him. “It’s....definitely not healthy, but it’s the sweetest thing you’ll eat all night.”

@opheliaxazlon​

[drakexthornley]

“How early do you start working on outfits? They just announced the team colors and my stylist spent the whole day running around the city looking for brand new stuff.” Drake, his outfit now clean and his red obvious, could find little outside of the Games to talk about. Outfits were still associated, but easier to talk about than the television show itself. 

@satchel-mcqueen​

[drakexthornley]

He hadn’t spoken to the man since Ariadne’s death. There was something about dodging conversation that made it less real. If he never addressed it, it wasn’t something he would have to face. It was more for Orpheus’ sake. The mere possibility of losing his twin brother had driven Phoenix, a rough and emotionless man, to a stream of tears. Drake knew within his adjacent victor was a hole that would forever be there. There was no fixing that. 

“The weather is nice outside,” he began, unsure of where else to start. Problem was, that was as much of a talking plan as he’d come up with. 

@ccntingent​