RUTHLESS

Tempest White District 10 Tribute and future Victor. "Woken up like an animal; teeth ready for sinking. Underneath this skin there's a human. Buried deep within there's a human. And despite everything I'm still human. But I think I'm dying here." {Closed 1x1}

[heytempest-blog]

Run, boy, run.

[heymalt-blog]

It wasn’t hard to find her the next morning, but there was no meeting or group training. It was all individual at the large variety of stations. She had been showing off, or possibly working through something emotionally but slicing off the heads of mannequins left, right, and center. Deciding to leave her alone, but also recognizing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from glancing in her direction frequently, he decided to try out the climbing station. The harness would keep him from injuring himself if he got distracted, but after scaling train cars and numerous fences back in six, he felt there wouldn’t be much of a challenge to make it to the top quickly.

But now it was lunch, and although his distraction had worked out perfectly that morning, he was now faced with Tempest as loud and feisty as ever.

It was impossible not to hear her from around the corner, having ensured that Jeyne was stopping to eat something to replenish her strength. They rounded it together just in time to watch the knife wedge itself into the plastic. Mal’s eyes flicked to the other Peacekeepers instead of the tributes reactions, hoping she wouldn’t be thrown out of not only training but the Games themselves. Quickly dishing up, he stuck to the basic foods, the ones that weren’t coated in some kind of fluorescent color. With Jeyne tugging on his sleeve, he hardly had time to pick up his tray before she pulled him over to the table where Tempest had made herself comfortable. Realizing that they were approaching her from behind, he tucked Jeyne behind him for a moment in case she had another knife to fling when they snuck up on her.

"Couldn’t agree more." He whispered in her ear before side stepping out of arm’s reach quickly, much to a giggling Jeyne’s delight.

[heytempest-blog]

She caught sight of Mal assisting Jeyne with a plate of food and sighed, still wondering how they'd truly get her through. She didn't care about the 'difficulty' level, but more of the little girl's mental capacity. The Games weren't going to be rainbows and sunshines, and Jeyne would more than likely become frightened of her rather quickly. She would be doing the killing- even more for her own benefit than another's- because that's what she knew. The thought of herself covered in blood and standing before this child, however, even made her shiver. There would be nothing about Tempest that wouldn't be violent, and she couldn't apologize for it either. Sometimes her own thoughts were enough to scare her, and other times they weren't enough.

"Oh shit-" Occupied with her thoughts, she hardly had time to catch the sound of footsteps behind her. A knife gripped firmly in hand, she swung around and away from the chair, "Mal! You idiot, are you dense? Are you trying to die before the Games? It isn't funny, either." But it was- or maybe the sight of a giggling Jeyne made it that way- because Tempest couldn't help but grin at her in return. Abandoning the weapon she peered around Mal to look at the door, where a Peacekeeper removed the lodged knife before quickly disappearing, "I could destroy them with a damn spoon. Honestly, wait till they spar me after lunch. I'll break them."

[heytempest-blog]

Run, boy, run.

"This food should be given to the Districts," she called, "get back here so I can drive this knife through your heart!" The knife she threw lodged itself in the door just as a Peacekeeper disappeared behind it. The bastards. The table was lined with the typical Capital feast, and even on the second day it was more vile than before. She didn't want any of it; not even a crumb. Sadly, that couldn't be the case with the Games two days away. "What?" A few of the outline District tributes hunkered away from the snap of her voice, having been scared since they'd seen her work in the training room. The bastards hid outside locked doors as usual, probably waiting or any opportunity to remove her from the area. With a huff she fell back into a seat and propped up her legs, allowing her mind to drift to last night despite earlier protests.

[heytempest-blog]

Unexpected Company | Para One

[heymalt-blog]

The idea that this beautiful girl could find joy in killing anyone sent a shiver down his spine. It was one thing to ponder himself doing that to anyone, let alone someone else doing it to him and further more being happy about it. He swallowed and hoped she would stick true to her word with regards to Jeyne, hell, it may even be easier for him to kill himself if it was actually Tempest pulling the metaphorical trigger.

He couldn’t help the smile on his face at the promise of his own demise, she was too beautiful in the soft glow as the sun began to climb the opposite side of the mountain range, filling the sky with light as it did so. Her question as they began scrambling back down to the main part of the roof made him stop to think. “No, I tend to be an early riser actually.” He quipped as they rushed over to the door leading down the stairs.

Tempest reached it before Mal, but her hand paused on the handle. Turning back to face him, he stopped abruptly, surprised that she hadn’t simply ran off, leaving his sorry ass in the dust. They stood there for a moment, surveying each other. His eyes were at the bottom of her dress when he noticed a rip that must’ve been several inches long. The skin it exposed looked perfectly smooth and Mal imagined how soft it would feel beneath his palms. Swallowing to wet his suddenly parched mouth before he gestured to it, “You, uh, ripped your dress on the way down. I think.” Unexpectedly, she stepped closer to him and seemed to be about to say something. But one glance at her slightly pouting lips and Mal was overwhelmed.

Crushing her body against his by wrapping an arm around her slight waist. Mal brought his other hand to her cheek gently but swiftly hoping she wouldn’t clock him upside the head before he lost his nerve and guided her mouth to his. Closing his eyes, he unconsciously ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips before pulling back slowly. His eyes were now open and he removed his hands from their intimate locations. Finding his voice again he quipped, “Seemed like the best way to end one of my last nights…Sorry if I…” but his voice trailed off wondering if their agreement, for Jeyne’s sake, was still in tact or if that one moment of adrenaline and intimacy had completely shattered it.

[heytempest-blog]

The kiss obliterated her. She’d been kissed before, except then it had been too many drinks. She’d never been on the sober end, and had always been the one to instigate it. Her first instinct was, of course, to destroy the boy before her. But her fingers never curled into a fist. Her eyes didn’t harden. There was no aura of rage about her. “Is that it?” Tempest mused while hooking an arm around his neck, “If you’re going to kiss me, then kiss me.” She brought him forward by his shirt, and in one swift movement crushed her lips to his. Then she knew she’d kill for him and that little girl. Anywhere, anytime. Mal was something she’d never had. However insignificant it may have seemed to somebody else would never understand the life she’d lacked. For a moment he gave it back to her.

Tempest’s hand slid into Mal’s hair and her forehead pressed against his own, “Goodbye, Mal.” She lingered a little longer, lips brushing skin. When she did finally pull away it wasn’t without difficulty. Disappearing through the door was even harder. She’d see him in the training room, and maybe that’s what made her wish it was the last night. So she wouldn’t have another chance to kiss him; so she wouldn’t have more time to become emotionally invested. Whatever Tempest wished for it was too late. It wasn’t love, not yet. Tempest didn’t think she was capable of that; nor did she believe in it. There’d never be a chance for that. She never wanted it. The Capitol wouldn’t permit it, and the arena wouldn’t provide it. She’d die for the two from Six or she’d win. There was no other way.

[heytempest-blog]

Unexpected Company | Para One

[heymalt-blog]

Mal simply nodded in response to her answer. He had assumed as much, that she wouldn’t be the type to shy aware from dark truths. 

Before he had covered his face, he looked at her as she talked about Jeyne’s admiration of him. Having been unaware of how deep her feelings for him were. Embarrassed that Jeyne had even called them a family, let alone wanting to include Tempest in it. But now that the thought was there, Mal found himself developing a warm glow in the pit of his stomach. He was suddenly gratefully for the lack of light up here so she couldn’t see the reddening in his cheeks. But just to be sure, he covered his face. “In my opinion, nothing is impossible in the Arena. Let alone hope for a little girl. I think I could manage it, not alone, but having some allies in there would be good or hell, even just a general understanding to leave Jeyne untouched- save for the Careers. I won’t be wasting my time on them.”

Smiling, Mal began replying, “Lighten the mood, forget about the Games for only a…moment.” Her touch on his arm again made his brain stutter. “I don’t feel the need to hide from you. You’ll hurt me or you won’t. Doubt there’s anything I can learn or even do to stop you.” Their eyes locked as his arm fell onto the cement above his head as she crouched close to him. It took him a moment to process what she was saying, “You, wait, you want to help her too? You’re not itching to make it back to Ten? Might actually have a shot at getting her home to her mum… I appreciate all the help we can get… thanks Tempest. I really… oh shit!” Sitting up abruptly, Mal looked towards the western mountains surrounding the city. “Is that the…?” His voice trailed off as he realized how late it was.

[heytempest-blog]

Well at least the guy knew she could hurt him. The only problem was Tempest wasn't sure if she wanted to. Not until they were in the arena of course. If it came down to just the two of them she wouldn't have a problem slitting his throat; or so she liked to think. If Jeyne were left somewhere in the mix, though, then she'd slit her own throat before then. "Good. The Career's are my bit of fun, anyway." It was easy to string the little hotheads along. They all liked her, and all expected her to play along with them in the arena. What better way to get rid of them? Killing them would be a pleasant pleasure.

Forget about the Games, when they were all she'd ever truly focused on? Now that was a feat. Maybe it was easy for him, but for her it was just as impossible as everyone surviving the arena. "You're right, you're screwed either way." Kill him now or kill him later- it didn't matter. At this point she'd started planning her own death, too. "But after eighteen years of preparing for this, it gets boring knowing I don't have any real competition." The surprise in Mal's voice actually didn't surprise her. After all he hadn't seen another side of her until now, and she still want sure how accurate it was. As far as she could remember this was the nicest she'd ever been. There were a few kids back home she'd taken some abuse for, but she hadn't ever been motherly. She simply protected the people of her District. She'd die for them. It was so simple, yet so hard to believe. "Well I'm not gonna kill her, so what else-" the sudden abruptness took her by surprise, so much that she even scrambled backwards a step. The moment her head turned and her eyes took in what his curse implied, though, she couldn't help but begin to laugh. "You really don't have much experience with staying out late, do you?"

By the time she'd pulled him up, climbed down, and paused at the door the sunrise was only just beginning. For once she didn't care. About anything except the air and the aggravating tribute beside her. The rip in her dress wasn't even a bother. She looked at him, really looked at him. Human, maybe saner than she, but still about to be tossed into the same catastrophe as she. She hadn't cared to noticed how she found him attractive before, but for some reason the urge to stand closer- on the stupid Capitol roof- was undeniable. It was a moment almost worth telling him to kiss her, but would it truly matter in the end?

[heytempest-blog]

Unexpected Company | Para One

[heymalt-blog]

Mal hadn’t honestly given much thought to the word, and told her so, “It seems like the easy answer to oddities. It explains why two people from such different walks of life can be brought together under mind boggling barbaric circumstances in such a progressive city.” Mal added actual air quotations with his fingers as the second last word left his mouth with a sarcastic tone. “But I think the bigger reason why people believe in it is because they want simple solutions and easy answers when someone asks the tough questions… Why, do you Tempest? Believe in fate, I mean.”

As he opened his mouth to answer her first question, Mal was struck silent by her second inquiry. As his gaze traveled down from her mouth to her lower half as she climbed, he realized it was not her words that had frozen him, it had been her smile and taunt that had disarmed him. Swallowing quick and focusing on the wall before him rather than the girl above him, he began following her higher and into uncharted territory. 

There had always been rumors back home about what the Capitol entailed, the wonders to see and beauties to behold. But nothing could have prepared Mal for what he saw at the top of the training center that night. Her tangled hair flowing out and around her shoulders in cascades and being picked up by the breeze. Beyond her was another amazing sight. The higher vantage point seemed to put the whole city on display for them at their feet. It suddenly occurred to Mal how many people were there who actually supported Snow, his decisions, and the Games.

She threw out another question to catch him off guard as he laid down onto his back, gazing at the stars, with his feet crossed at the ankles and his hands resting on his stomach. Quickly realizing that none of the other tributes would believe her after their public tiff in the training room, he spoke quietly to the faint stars shining through the glow from below them, “Nah, no one needs me back in 6. Just a little girl a few floors down who is scared out of her mind. Considering how much time you’ve spent with her I’m sure she’s talked about me and told you my master plan already.” Mal had been a big comfort for Jeyne in the short time they had known each other. And while he had said most of the things since their meeting simply to assuage her fears, he truly wanted her to win. “She’s still waiting for normal body parts to arrive for crying out loud. I know I won’t be able to keep her innocence in tact, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone hurt her in there. Also, Miss Smart Ass, before you start reprimanding me on what a waste it is, I already know and have decided I’d rather die than become a Victor. I know I’d be mentally unhinged afterward, but she doesn’t have to engage in their game. She doesn’t have to hurt other people because I’ll do that for her.” He placed one of his forearms up and on his face, covering his eyes from her scrutiny. 

"Call me crazy if you like, I already have after I thought that all up."

[heytempest-blog]

The tough questions. The Capitol was notorious for more than half of those. In fact she swore that a day didn’t go by where Caesar mentioned something involving fate. That they were all here, bound together in the arena. It was pure bullshit; no one could convince her otherwise. “No,” she breathed, probably quieter than he could hear before speaking up, “I don’t believe in fate.” It actually had been beaten out of her once. When she was little and inquiring about her good as dead parents. Turns out her ‘mentor’ didn’t believe in any of that, and therefore required her to understand the same. “I see it as false hopes, or a poor excuse to accept difficult situations. Death, mostly.” Practically everyone she met wallowed in a certain type of idiocy. The party she’d been made to attend to that night spoke for itself.

Tempest watched Mal lie down but continued along the edge, listening to him despite her usual flippant behavior. She grinned every so often while sparing him a glance or two. Yeah, the little girl a few floors down had definitely talked about Mal. She loved Mal. She’d even told Tempest she needed to love Mal, because he was so great and helpful. For Jeyne maybe that was true, but for her they’d only slow her down. “She certainly loves you,” Tempest agreed, “even tried to convince me that we could all be a family. She doesn’t understand what’s happening; or she’s just being naive. Either way you should straighten but out. Imagining fantasy scenarios that are impossible will only harm her in the end.” Before she could continue on the same subject he happened to let a sarcastic insult fly. For once in her life she even found it amusing.

"Little miss smart ass," Tempest mused while returning to his side, "now how was that necessary?" She crouched beside him, tilting her head as his forearm covered up the majority of his face, "Is that how you plan to hide from me in the arena?" She took Mal’s wrist gently in hand to pry the arm from his eyes. "Yeah, you’re crazy," she offered, "but really only if you expect to go it alone. You want to protect Jeyne, and I want to murder the ones who whisper about her. The simple solution would be to help you." But that’s not how Tempest worked. That wasn’t who she was, not at all. "I won’t travel with either of you, but I can cover your trail and dispose of anyone hunting it." She still worked alone, after all. It was a ‘take it or leave it’ option, and Tempest wasn’t sure which one she’d rather him decide. She wanted to make a point, but at the same time…it just wasn’t how she was taught. "It gives you a better chance to keep Jeyne from combat." To keep some of her sanity in tact, whereas Tempest would slowly drift away. Just like she was hoping.

Because truthfully, she was tired of knowing herself.

[dailyalexandradaddario]

[heytempest-blog]

Unexpected Company | Para One

[heymalt-blog]

Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he sighed, enjoying the crisp air against his heated skin. Having had his eyes closed, he hadn’t even thought about someone else being up here so late, or early depending on how you looked at it. Her voice seemed to be part of his imagination and it took him a moment to find her amidst the planters full of lush greenery. He continued to sit and simply called back to her across the roof, “Again you insist that I shouldn’t be anywhere near you, yet fate seems to have other plans.” He couldn’t help the corners of his mouth draw upward as he responded to her own tone of amusement.

His eyes followed her movements as she made her way towards him. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by him that earlier that day he had spotted her helping Jeyne learn how to make a snare. If he had been at any of the combat stations he’d have surely been knocked on his ass the way his eyes always sought her out. Feeling his body perk up again as she approached him, he was unsure what her motives were until she extended her hand.

Becoming dazed by the seemingly out of character kindness, it took him several moments to realize she was asking for his company rather than being upset by it. His breathing had returned to normal, yet his heart rate continued its quickened pace. Searching her face to see if it was a trick of some sort, he slowly brought his large hand to meet hers. Ignoring the tingling sensations crawling up his arm from where their skin contacted, he kept his breathing steady and refused to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. Their hands quickly returned to their respective sides and Mal found himself following her in a muted trancelike state as she continued to walk backwards.

It was only now that he was able to take in all of her with the added city lights shining up at them from the street below. Quirking an eyebrow, he found his voice again and quipped, “So where is it I’ll be moping now?”

[heytempest-blog]

"And you believe in fate?" It was a genuine question, not the sneer that was usually laced through her tone. Fate had once been a topic well-discussed. Between her and Crowe the word had been worn. And when he died, her ‘mentor’ had crushed it out of her. In a literal sense, too. Fate was stupid. Fate was a lie. Fate was another word used to replace hope, and neither of those were her biggest fans. At the edge of the roof she turned away from him, quickly directing her attention elsewhere. For some reason Mal’s touch had distracted her, and that was enough to have her pull away. Usually she was the cautious one; or was in certain situations. Here, though, Mal seemed to handle her presence tentatively. Then again, she was a firecracker easily sparked.

"Do you really want me to tell you?" She questioned before taking hold of the ledge beside her, "Or are you just a little bit daring?" Tempest tossed him a wicked grin before swinging away from the edge, two hands taking hold of the next indentation. Despite the confining dress she was still fairly nimble, and climbed with an ease that only came from years of practice. Each lift took her farther away from the tribute below, but closer to a forbidden destination. If the boy was at all worth her own curiosity then he’d follow, and if not, well, she’d mark another off on a long list of bores. Despite the little tiff she’d had with him in the training room he wasn’t all that bad; or wasn’t yet showing it.

"Anything motivating you to get back home," she inquired once reaching the top, "or do you only care about sending Jeyne back?" Tempest expected it to be the latter with the way Mal was always lurking nearby. Not even related, but he still put on a show when it came to being a big brother. She didn’t care much for either of their safety. They weren’t from her district; she didn’t put one above or below the other. The kid was twelve and innocent, but the past hadn’t been merciless to anyone reaped. Tempest had noticed Jeyne was a pretty quick learner, especially when it came to snares. Knives hadn’t been that bad either. The girl hadn’t hit anything vital when it came to targets, but maiming an enemy in the arena was just as good. Wounds could get infected, slow you down, kill you in many different ways. The only problem was, the little girl would never actually throw one at a person. Tempest could see it in her eyes; see it in the way she moved and acted. "She’ll never be able to take a life. Morally speaking." And for Tempest, well, it was easier than breathing.

[kissmeok]

♡Love/Couples♡

[browithablog]

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Song of the Day 7/25/12:

Angels - The XX

[heytempest-blog]

Unexpected Company | Para One

[heymalt-blog]

Mal had been jogging up and down the stairs for several hours having been unable to sleep. His little 12 year old tribute partner was scared out of her mind and being consoled by their escort nightly for her dreams. Mal hated the thought of killing anyone, then the idea of little Jeyne being killed made him just sick to his stomach. He kept running over all kinds of scenarios and ideas for how he could possibly make it so that she’d be the victorious one. Someone so sweet and innocent should be able to live their life first.

Having lost count of what floor he was on, he simply put on a burst of speed and skipped two steps at a time. Before he knew it, he had burst through the door leading to the roof. His chest was burning and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. If he squinted, he could just barely make out stars amidst the chaos below. His shirt was soaked with sweat as he leaned back against the cold steel door. Sliding down it easily, he sat down and lean his head back.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Mal longed to be back home. He was certain that in his absence, his brother had overdosed and was probably dead choking on his own vomit with no one to check up on him. There’d be another empty Victor house back in 6 if that was the case as Mal continued to find himself thinking that he wouldn’t be making it back there. Just as he closed his eyes, her bright eyes taunted him. Opening them wide and shaking his head, he ran a hand over his face, confused by how his brain had reacted to the fiery and dangerous girl from earlier that day. 

He couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind and in the midst of fighting for his life, needless to say that he knew he was in trouble.

[heytempest-blog]

Her stream of thoughts had been enough to take her focus from the outside world, because the sudden intruder had startled her. She spun lithely on the ledge to face him and peered through the dark. Out of everyone that could manage to find her upon the roof, it had to be the boy from Six. Well, she hoped that whatever God or Gods were having a good laugh. As long as he didn’t call her Tee or make any remarks about the outfit she was sporting, then maybe she wouldn’t get around to strangling him. “You know,” she began while continuing along the ledge, “if you were practicing running from me in the arena, you failed miserably. Because you found me, and that’s not a wise move.” Tempest didn’t bother hiding a grin. She wasn’t really in a foul mood. Not yet.

He looked rather pained while sitting there, and oddly enough that fact had her think back to their earlier discussion. He’d mentioned his District partner. The little girl named Jeyne Carr. It seemed like the obvious choice. It was late, and the child probably had a streaming end of nightmares. She was an adolescent; really still new to this whole ‘world of Panem’ thing the Capitol liked to call life. Tempest stepped from the ledge with ease and crossed the short distance between them. She gazed at him for what seemed to be ages, contemplating how unlike her this little idea was. Despite herself, the arm by her side lifted slightly, and her hand outstretched toward him, “Either you can mope and wallow in your sweat, or you can come with me. You’ll probably mope either way.” Yeah, she was capable of jokes. She just didn’t share her humorous side anymore. There wasn’t a point because there was no chance to laugh.

She began walking backwards, moving her arm just barely away but still within reach, “Offer’s moving away, pretty boy.” She wanted to go where the wind could be felt and where the stars weren’t hidden beneath gaudy lights. She swore she’d find some sense of freedom within the hellish city. Scaling the rest of the Capitol couldn’t be that difficult- not for her at least. Even in her dress she had the skill to maneuver quite well. Her features held the hint of a grin while she waited, and she made a purposeful exaggerated noise of someone waiting. Hopefully she wouldn’t regret the invite.

[heytempest-blog]

Keeping things interesting.

[heymalt-blog]

If it gets you that worked up, then yeah I do. *winks and looks to the guard* You’ll have to wait if you want a swing at me, Tee.

For now.

[heytempest-blog]

But I will swing at you. *smirks* Just digging your grave a little deeper each time you open that mouth of yours. Don't know how to shut up, do ya?

[heytempest-blog]

Keeping things interesting.

[heymalt-blog]

I didn’t take it that way. You think I’m pretty. Never gonna live that one down, Tee. 

It’s called working together. And if so I figure we should know how to address one another.

[heytempest-blog]

So you want to be referred to as a pretty boy? *Clenches jaw* Excuse me? Tee? Oh I don't think so.

Well you aren't going to address me as Tee, that's for sure. Not only that, but you won't need to address me at all. I work alone.

[heytempest-blog]

Keeping things interesting.

[heymalt-blog]

Being sentimental are you? Oh yes I can be quite versatile.  Chopping block, seemingly only with you. Wait, hold on, did you just give me a compliment?

The name’s Mal, Ten. Why would I escape when I can fight or even better, work with you.

[heytempest-blog]

You're really good at pissing me off, you know that? If that statement wasn't sarcasm, then I'm not sure what is.

Funny, I don't seem to recall asking for your name. Sorry, but I'm not sure you should rely on your 'fighting' skills, and you've taken a blow to the head if you think I'll let you work with me.

[heytempest-blog]

Lost Journal Entry #56

Page buried with Crowe Tallis.

Age Seventeen

Today, I buried Crowe Tallis, winner of the sixty-third annual Hunger Games. He was twenty-six and 'too young to die'. Even if he was a morphling, it doesn't take a genius to know the Capitol got rid of him. He always snuck around; cursed Snow plenty of times too. Worse, though, was that he mentioned the rebellion on live TV. He may as well have killed me in the process too, because the bastard was all I had. If he was still here, I'd tell him how much I hate him. I remember we used to dance; stupidly and without rhythm. The idiot was the only one who could make me smile, and now he's the reason I never will.

[heytempest-blog]

Keeping things interesting.

[heymalt-blog]

We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that point then. Weren’t strong enough last year? Or hoped you’d get your name called so you could pull a Johanna Mason and make everyone think you’re weak. But when that didn’t play out, you decided you still wanted your fun so you regretfully saved her life. Oh darn.

I don’t need to count on sponsors if that’s what you’re getting at. As far as I know she’s talked me up too much already. Well, my apologies then. *grins* Still a way. For some of these kids, that’s all they got.

[heytempest-blog]

*Narrows eyes* Actually, last year I was burying an old friend, though I'm really glad you decided to assume another idea already. Is it always your intention to lay your head on the chopping block, or does it happen naturally? You're right, you'd better go before something happens to that pretty little face.

You'll have to start counting on something if you plan to escape me in the arena. Some of these kids know how to keep their mouths shut. You, Six, do not.

[heytempest-blog]

Keeping things interesting.

[heymalt-blog]

So you knew her then? The girl you saved from almost certain death? How kind of you.

Mine won’t stop flirting with me…May have? How literal of you… I see. I never meant to be in your way. *puts both of his hands up in front of him and walks backwards towards the knot tying station* I’d wish you luck but you obviously don’t need it or want it.

[heytempest-blog]

I wouldn't consider it kind- just necessary. I would have volunteered regardless of who it was.

Well then maybe you should use your looks as an advantage with Sponsors if your escort has flattered you so much. It doesn't matter if you meant to be in my way or not; you were regardless. *raises her brow before folding her arms over her chest* Luck is a pretty boring way to win the Games.

[heytempest-blog]

Unexpected Company | Para One

Standing so close to the edge, one might think she was debating a leap into the unknown. If you knew her; truly knew her, then you’d know how desperate she was for the wind. To feel some sense of freedom in a place much like a prison would be glorious, but she never paused to hope. Tempest never pried for false dreams. She’d been taught not to fill her head with stories. Instead of heroes and villains there was the Capitol and a rumor of rebels. Lies, maybe. But truth? Near impossible.

Her stylists had somehow found it wise to dress her in something skin tight. It was a glossy, crystal speckled, black-leathery mess that ended about mid thigh. She recalled one of her Stylists mentioning something about her legs and how the dress did them justice. It was all bullshit, because she’d still been drug to a party with insistently nosy Sponsors. To make matters worse, Tempest had been swatted at by her damned escort each time she’d went to pull down the damned garment. Her high heels had made ‘accidental’ flight the moment she had stood upon the roof, and now she waited for a breeze that wouldn’t come.

The pins fell from her head one by one until dark hair tumbled past her shoulders. It fell just past her chest, and she'd nearly beheaded her Stylist when he'd suggested cutting it. It may have seemed stupid, but the Capitol had taken nearly everything else; hell if they could have her hair, too. The thick waves were tossed over one shoulder as she walked the ledge with perfect balance, bright eyes cast down under heavy-lidded makeup. They'd called her striking, but wait till they watched her in the arena.