tempest

release the unworthy seraphina / 19 / district 10

[vainitie]

she cocked her head slightly to the side as she considered the question. “no, i don't think i'm better than you,” she said, carefully. there was a cruel, smug smile on her face, the kind of thing that looked like a cat who had spotted a new bit of prey to toy with. “i know i'm better than you. and in a few weeks, i'm going to prove it.”

proving that she was better — that she was the best — was what vanity was here for, after all.

she took another step towards the other girl, close enough that they were breathing each other's air. her face didn't move, even as the scent wafting off the other girl permeated her nostrils.

“what exactly do you intend to do about it?”

[seraphinavoulgar]

Seraphina kept silent as the girl approached, taking her in, deciding what kind of threat she posed. Her goading served only to loosen whatever impulse control Seraphina had left, and as she took a step forwards a slow smile crept on to Seraphina's face.

She waited until the girl had finished her jabs. One moment. And then another. The two of them staring at each other, seemingly at an impasse.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Seraphina let out a sigh of hot air on to the girls face. Blood and meat and rot and dung, spreading over the girl's pretty features. She took her time with it, letting the exhale drag on, letting her eyes flutter almost shut before her lungs emptied and she met the girls eyes once more.

Another moment. A smile, a hardened stare, and then—

Seraphina smashed her forehead into the girls nose with all the strength she possessed.

[rowanburl]

Rowan didn’t expect the contact.

For a split second, his breath caught - sharp and instinctive - his body shrinking away from her hand. Something old and immediate flared up, the kind of reaction that came before thought: too close.

He’d let himself believe, just for a moment, that there were still lines that wouldn’t be crossed. Not yet.

The feeling lingered even after she let go.

Their eyes dropped to where her fingers had caught his shirt, then lifted to meet hers when she forced it.

Up close, he couldn’t look away, and had to clear his throat nervously before speaking.

“I know what we’re here for,” they said, voice low, steady.

No argument in it. No denial.

Their jaw shifted slightly, like they were weighing something and deciding against saying it.

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

His gaze flicked past her, for just a moment, down the length of the train - assessing distance to the doorway, whether anyone else was nearby.

“And it hasn’t started yet,” he added, firmer now. “So maybe keep your hands to yourself until it does.”

[seraphinavoulgar]

She let the tension sit for a moment, letting his words dissapate into the air around them just long enough for the silence to feel uncertain, and then she drew back with a drawl of laughter, throwing her head back with delight.

"So serious." She mused once the laughter had subsided. "You're not scared of me, are you?"

[daryamarins]

The stench grew closer, and Darya was surprised to hear the girl settling in next to her. She cracked an eye open and glanced over lazily. She parted her lips so she could mouth-breath and withstand this person's company for a bit longer.

"I have," they nod. They'd never thought of it as a privilege, but it was apparent that some districts didn't have comforts like this. In District Four, they even had saunas that floated on rafts. Darya decided not to mention that. "Usually people get naked for these."

Finally, Darya pried open their second eye. Their eyes caught on the stranger's grease-slicked hair, then dropped to her blood-crusted nails. It was likely that her nails were a product of their current circumstances. Darya had bitten their own nails down to stubs in the quiet of their room. It was a reminder that they were the same now. Maybe yesterday she'd been privileged, but today she was just a lamb to the slaughter.

"I'm not encouraging you to get naked, by the way," Darya pressed her palm to her brow and swept some sweat away. "Just be prepared to sweat a lot. It's supposed to help you release toxins. Could help you sleep."

[seraphinavoulgar]

Nakedness had never been a problem for Seraphina, and she found it curious the way people reacted to it. She had never known a public place where it was suitable to be naked. Even the starved and the half mad bore rags, evidence that they were once a part of the society which now shunned them.

"Is that why you're here?" Seraphina asked as she stood up, making her way to the center of the room. "Because you have trouble sleeping?"

Once she was far enough away from her company, Seraphina pulled her dress over her head in one fluid motion. It was a simple thing, plain and frayed with more than one suspicious stain. Now it looked like nothing more than a mess of crumpled fabric.

She wore nothing underneath, so the temparature of the room met her body with a quick intensity. She sighed with pleasure, rolling her head from shoulder to shoulder as she let the heat relax her muscles. After a few moments, she made her way to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest and letting her head rest gently on them, looking towards the other tribute.

"You're right," she murmured, "it's better when you're naked."

[vainitie]

vanity wrinkles her nose at the smell as the girl begins to talk. her accent is so thick it practically drips off her words, the drawl foreign and unfamiliar to vanity. people in district one sound like people ought to — people from the district sound almost like the capitolites vanity has grown up listening to on the radio and seeing on television.

“you reek,” she says, simply, as she looks the other tribute up and down. she doesn't look much like a threat, and judging both by her look and by the smell of her, she's from one of the outer districts. “it's common courtesy to bathe, you know.” her tone implies that this is something obvious, that it's an annoyance for vanity to have to tell her this.

“i'm from district one, if you must know,” she says, with a toss of her blonde hair over her shoulder. “and i certainly don't have to ask where you're from. you smell like pig shit.” she'd have to watch her mouth when she got into the games — sponsors tended not to like tributes with dirty mouths — but there really was no good replacement for curse words sometimes — what's she supposed to say, that the girl smells like pig poop? what is she, a child?

[seraphinavoulgar]

Any interest she had for the girl in front of her washed away the more she spoke, and soon Seraphina's face was screwing up with her own matched disgust.

While the tribute looked like something from another world, Seraphina was all too familiar with the words she spewed, so similar to so many in the District she called home. People too proper to be human, too afraid of the dirt and the blood which came with being alive. Whatever digust they felt towards her was nothing compared to the way she felt for them.

"You're awful vulgar for someone so pretty."

Seraphina took a couple of steps towards her playmate, taking in the blonde tresses and smug confidence. She didn't like smugness. It made her itch. Back home, she would be sizing the girl up right now, ready to claw and snarl, but taking a beating from a Peacekeeper didn't take her fancy at present, so she kept herself still and rigid, taking in the girl more closely.

"Do you think you're better than me?" She asked, teeth clenched.

[minervadenier]

The heat of the sauna was a welcome reprieve, a much needed distraction from the outburst of music and fire that had taken her captive mere moments prior. Her eyes darted around the small room, walls of cedar and air thick like a hot day after a heavy rain. She hadn't any real experience with steam, save for the pressing of heavy fabrics and delicate seams at the factory job that she once held. How far away District 8 already seemed to be -- how hopelessly irretrievable and permanent it all felt.

Minerva's body tensed slightly as the other girl rose, her fingers removing themselves from the grip on her nose in case she had to spring into action. Her gaze ran all over the other woman, sizing up the slow tempo of her step before garnet-stained hands were held before her eyes.

How curious they were -- each finger bloodied and battleborn, forged in the crucible of a mind whose own enemy was itself. Minerva could relate. She could also smell the ferity wafting off the girl, like a perfume painstakingly crafted from both the crude and the divine. How exciting this individual already was.

She chuckled, light yet incredulous.

"Maybe so." A pause, before Minerva tilted her head slightly.

"I'll clean yours," she challenged, the slightest of smirks tugging at her lips. "If you clean mine."

[seraphinavoulgar]

It wasn't often Seraphina found herself well-matched. At home, those who tried to face her usually cowered at her advances, receeding until solitude found her once again.

She wasn't averse to company - in fact, there were times she craved it - but there were few things she found more intolerable than bad company.

But here, on this train, with this particular tribute, she thought perhaps she had found someone who could stimulate her interests. She couldn't tell exactly if the girl was genuine, and Seraphina's face grew serious as she considered the girl's words.

Slowly, she lowered her hands and sank to her knees, kneeling in front of the the tribute so Seraphina had to look up meet her eyes.

"Tell me when."

[rowanburl]

Rowan stilled at the sound of her voice.

Not surprise - he’d heard her coming - but something sharper, the prickle at the back of his neck that came when something large and dangerous stepped too close in the woods.

His hand stayed against the glass, though his fingers curled slightly, no longer resting.

“What do you think?” he said after a moment, voice low, edged with something faintly wry.

Only then did he glance over, quick and wary, taking in the bare feet, the damp hair, the way she moved like a caged animal in the space.

His gaze didn’t linger, snapping back to the glass, to the blur of trees beyond it.

“You’ve been pacing,” he added, quieter, but no less pointed. “Hard not to notice.”

A pause.

“If I had to guess,” Rowan said, shifting his weight just slightly, not quite turning his back, “you feel as trapped in here as I do.”

[seraphinavoulgar]

It unnerved her, knowing they had been so astute in their observations. She wasn't used to being watched. She hadn't known she was so easy to read, either.

Her eyes flitted away from him as she saw him glance at her, unwilling to find out what more he'd be able to discern if he got the chance to look at her properly.

"You oughta be careful," her voice came out in a drawl, "telling me so much."

It was a defensive measure, turning it around on him. The idea of having something in common with the tribute who had spent so long staring at a world they would never again experience made her bristle with discomfort.

She reached out a hand, letting it snag against the shirt they wore for a moment before letting it drop. And then she looked them dead in the eye.

"Did no one tell you we're here to kill each other?"

[vainitie]

vanity had come to the sauna for a bit of relaxation. the games were going to be a challenge, no matter how much she'd trained, and she might as well take advantage of the amenities the capitol provided beforehand. it was better to be familiar with them before the games than look like a stupid, uneducated district citizen afterward. or at least that was what vanity told herself.

she'd never been in a sauna, but she knew the basic principle. she stepped into one of the small wooden cubicles to change, stripping down to the nude and wrapping a fluffy white towel around herself before stepping into the sauna.

the steam was warm and inviting on her bare skin, and she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, prepared to relax as much as she could.

it took a second for the stench to register. she cracked open one eye, annoyance painted clearly on her face as she looked at the other tribute. “do you mind?”

[seraphinavoulgar]

The words meant nothing to her, but the tone told her all she needed to know. Thick with annoyance, the sound of it made Seraphina flare with anger and bitterness. This girl had walked in on her, disturbed her peace, and had the gaul to treat Seraphina as the problem?

"Mind what?" She asked, her accent coming out strong in that moment. She turned slowly to face the girl, stare fixed and pointed as she surveyed the blonde haired, athletically-built tribute.

"Where are you from?" Her voice was demanding. People didn't look like that back in District 10. As far as she had known prior to this moment, people didn't look like that anywhere.

[daryamarins]

"Uh... Probably not, no," Darya lowered her hand finally, returning to her task of warming the sauna. After a second of silence, she finally looked at Seraphina.

Oh. She was being mocked. That was easy to see. The hard part was figuring out why. Did this girl want to smell like that? Interesting. It could be part of her strategy: be unsettling, distract the other tributes, get in their heads. Darya wasn't interested in playing that game.

"Look, I'm not going to force you into the shower or anything," they closed their eyes, leaning their head back into the wall. "If you want to make this train ride even more insufferable for everyone, that's your prerogative."

[seraphinavoulgar]

She watched with undisguised interest as the tribute continued to warm the sauna, noting the increased steam and the hiss of the coals. She wasn't even sure District 10 had an equivalent to this place - nothing that she was aware of, at least - but it seemed to be a familiar environment to her company. More evidence of the kind of life they had lived before finding themselves on the train.

"I didn't know it was that bad," she felt oddly protective of the odour that radiated from her skin, "it was fine 'til I came in here."

Truthfully, she had felt the grease in her hair and the grime under her nails some days ago, but had not felt inclined to wash it away. The bathroom attached to her room on the train only had a shower, and she was immediately averse to all the buttons and knobs that she was faced with.

She didn't trust where the water came from, didn't understand how they were able to hook the water up to the train and keep it flowing. The shower was useless to her - at least with a tub she'd be able to see the water she was using, watching the dirt and dead skin cling to the surface as she scrubbed.

She looked at the person before her, with their straight shoulders and quiet confidence, and sighed. Perhaps it could be interesting to see how their lives differed, how the things that came naturally to Seraphina would be completely foreign to the person whose head now rested against the wall.

"You've been in here before?" Her words felt stilted and unnatural, and she hesitated slightly before approaching the girl and sitting beside her. "A sauna, I mean?"

[rowanburl]

The motion of the train was the only thing that kept Rowan from losing all sense of time. Now and then the steady rhythm beneath his feet faltered, the carriage slowing hard enough for the pull of inertia to shift his weight from where he crouched with his back against the wall. Whenever that happened, new sounds crept through the metal around him—muffled pounding, distant shouting, once the sharp edge of a scream before it vanished again. The noises never lasted long, swallowed up by the thick steel of the compartment until Rowan was left alone with the hum of the engine and the uneasy feeling that he was being carried farther and farther from home.

When the crackling announcement finally broke through the darkness, it made him flinch despite himself. The cheerful familiar voice of Lucky Flickerman followed, bright and theatrical, and spilled out rules and welcomes and promises of luxury aboard the Train of Panem. Rowan listened without moving, catching every word out of sheer instinct, the way he would listen for a branch snapping deep in the forest.

Then came the click of the lock.

For a moment, Rowan didn’t move.

Somewhere beyond the door he could hear others reacting—metal sliding, footsteps spilling into corridors, voices raised in confusion or excitement. The sudden noise made the small room feel tighter around his chest. The air inside had long since grown stale, too still, too quiet. No wind. No leaves. No forest.

He pushed himself to his feet slowly.

The door slid open with a soft mechanical hum, revealing a corridor far brighter than his eyes were ready for. A few tributes hurried past the opening without sparing him a glance, drawn down the train toward whatever food or spectacle the Capitol had waiting. Rowan watched them go before finally stepping out himself.

The train smelled wrong—too clean, too polished. Rowan kept close to the side as he walked, letting the louder groups drift ahead of him toward the bustling cars further down.

Voices and movement thickened as he passed the dining car. The smell of rich food drifted out into the hall, drawing most of the others inside.

Rowan kept going.

Car by car, the crowd thinned until the corridor finally opened toward the rear of the train, where a wall of glass curved high overhead, the evening sky stretching wide above the train. Beyond it, the countryside rushed past in a blur of dark fields and distant tree lines.

He moved closer until the glass surrounded him.

For the first time since the cell door had closed behind him, Rowan drew a slow, steady breath. His calloused hand lifted to rest against the cool surface, eyes following the dark shapes of forest as they flickered past in the distance.

The train roared onward through Panem.

And Rowan Burl stood quietly beneath the glass sky, watching the world he’d been taken from disappear mile by mile.

[seraphinavoulgar]

Her skin was still sticky from the steam and the grime of the sauna, and she could feel a comforting warmth akin to being in sunlight from the effects of the sauna. Her hair was damp from the steam and clung to her neck as she wandered through the train.

The freedom she had felt when the door to her room had unlocked was quickly fading. She had never grown used to such restricted places. She was far too used to the grass beneath her feet to ever feel natural in a place like this.

Everything in this place was far too soft and smooth and perfect for her tastes. Even the scent of luxury was thick in the air, although she tried her best to combat it with her own.

It seemed most of the tributes were happy to get to know one another, or at least didn't have the innate need to leave their rooms and face their opponents. Those she saw she gave her unblinking stare, not caring how they might perceive her and unwilling to interact when she was feeling so constrained.

So she kept moving through the train, going from carriage to carriage, trying the doors of other tributes rooms only to find them locked and then making her way to the other end of the train once more, every pass feeling shorter and shorter.

It was only when she had paced once more to the other end of the train only to find that she wasn't alone that she allowed herself to be still.

The tribute was silhouetted against the glass panes of the train, forest and ruins and greenery whirling past. Their hand was steady against the glass.

She watched in silence for a few moments, wondering what their purpose was, what thoughts might be racing through their head in this moment. Could they be thinking the same thing? Coming to terms with the world they knew now being trapped behind glass?

Her bare feet padded across the floor, her steps slow and sure as she made her way closer to the figure.

"What are you thinking?" She asked bluntly, breaking the peace that had hung in the air.

[daryamarins]

Darya had no guess as to how long they'd been on the train. Most of the time in their room had been spent holding their breath in a desperate attempt to imagine themself underwater. Their lungs burning, unburdened by gravity or other people or the fucking Hunger Games-- that was the only time they could really hear their own feelings.

The problem? The cramped room felt nothing like the ocean, and if her emotions were trying to speak to her, they were whispering.

Maybe the air in the sauna would be thick enough to make her feel like she was swimming. She didn't particularly want to see anyone, but her trainers had always told her that it was good to be seen by other tributes. As soon as possible, they'd said. So, after another minute or two of holding her breath, Darya made her exit.

They didn't stop to talk to anyone, or even look in any particular direction. They'd just been told to be seen, not to make friends. They didn't even acknowledge the other person in the sauna car as they entered and pushed their way past. Instead, they sat quietly next to the coals so they could add more water and thicken the air.

Darya didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until the stink startled her. It was almost a reminder of home, like washed-up seaweed rotting in mid-summer heat. She hated it. She set the water bucket down immediately and pointed towards the showers.

"You need to shower," she stated matter-of-factly, "and if you don't know how to wash properly, I can try to explain. But I'd rather not."

[seraphinavoulgar]

Seraphina let out a scoff as the tribute barged past her, watching with unblinking eyes as they set down a bucket and addressed her directly.

Her lips curled in contempt.

This kind of behaviour wasn't new to her. Their stature, the way they pointed and directed her without thinking, the kind of thoughtless decisiveness that only revealed their self-righteousness to Seraphina.

She looked in the direction the tribute had pointed, tilted her head ever so slightly to one side, and then turned back with a slight pout of derision.

"Why?" She asked in mock concern. "Do you think they won't like me if I stink?"

[minervadenier]

Crimson like fall had always been the girl's favorite hue -- so often did it pour from herself and others when she found herself drunk with rage, liquor, or some enchanting blend of the two. It was this particular shade of red that streamed down her head and blushed her lips as she struck her head against the door. Bang. Bang. Bang.

She screamed. She kicked. She thrashed about.

The quiet calm that she had perfectly executed on the Reaping stage ceased to exist, instead hastily swapped out like a theatrical quick change the second she ducked behind a door. The hermetically sealed room was abysmally dark, silent. Minerva finally gave up, resting her back against the locked entrance and sliding down to the floor. The cool, metallic surface felt good against her body that felt like it was radiating the heat of a thousand and then some suns. She stared stupidly into the shadows that surrounded her, breath ragged and hurried as she let her rage continue to blaze. There was no point in quenching the flames that currently burned in her belly -- not in this place.

Her eyes flicked to the screen when it lit up, her mind barely registering the preposterous man and his ridiculous intonations. She paid no attention when the music played, and was rocked from her reverie only when she heard a sharp click ring out from just behind her. Minerva didn't get up, instead remaining on the floor as she slowly came back into her body. She wiggled her fingers, shaky hands hot with pain from striking the door repeatedly. She cracked her knuckles out of habit, wincing slightly. Pain was good, she told herself. Pain meant Minerva Denier, Tribute from District 8, was still alive.

The door opened with a whoosh, and the girl was off to the races. The idea of a sauna was novel to the girl -- but something that she desperately needed. Her shoulders repeatedly collided with other Tributes as she brushed past them, her eyes not even bothering to meet theirs as she continued her trek to carriage 10. Minerva quickly undressed and wrapped herself in a towel before walking into the steam filled room and--

The smell hit her immediately. Fingers squeezed nostrils shut as an odor so offensive swirled in the air, mixed with the heat and wetness of the sauna. Minerva held back a gag before squinting her eyes and hesitantly stepping forward. Her gaze fell upon a wraith of a girl, nestled among the foggy tendrils of the room. She continued to hold her nose shut as she took a seat on the warm wood, the heat from the steam working quickly to calm her rage-stiffened muscles.

She stared at the girl wordlessly for a moment before finally speaking, "You fucking stink."

[seraphinavoulgar]

She could feel their presence without having to turn. Something about the way the air shifted, the way her awareness shifted ever so slightly. It was a behaviour her body had adapted into, spending one too many nights in barns or under the stars meant she was attuned to even the slightest triggers of movement.

There was no reason to turn, and she felt no inclination to. Instead she stood, eyes shut, feeling the heat enter her every pore, sweat beginning to bead at her temple.

You fucking stink.

When it came to introductions, this was something she could get behind.

She turned slowly to face the newcomer, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

The voice matched the girl it belonged to. She was a tiny thing, hair hanging limp and damp around her shoulders. But it was only when Seraphina got closer that she saw the still forming bruises, the cuts and blood that had dried and congealed on her face.

The smirk widened into a grin.

Seraphina took another step towards the girl and lowered herself until the two of them were at eye level. She held out her hands, waggling her fingers to show their blooded state.

"We're matching."

The smile never left her lips.

[seraphinavoulgar]

The second the lock clicked, Seraphina pounced at the door, her body tired and aching from her previous attempts at escape. Dried blood crusted around her fingertips from where she had tried to claw her way out, and she sucked her still bleeding thumb absentmindedly as she made her way through the carriages.

It was the Sauna that she was looking for. She had never heard of anything like it, and her curiousity much outweighed her desire to avoid the other tributes.

As she entered the carriage, she was met with a wall of hot, humid air. It was a dimly lit, windowless room, and the steam bit at her eyes as they adjusted to the space. She took a tentative step forward, and her nose wrinkled as the heat mingled with the sweat and dirt and musk she carried on her skin.

A few more steps and she was in the center of the carriage, slowly turning, her head rasied slightly as she took in the space from every angle.

The stench radiated outwards.

[mariagladysgrandchild]

mia goth - the tunnel

[ed13d1]

how long i've been waiting

crumpled barns, texas, 1995 • nadav kander

[demoncity]

Mia Goth as Maxine Minx X (2022) dir. Ti West

[sumheavyocean]

[treatyoftreasonrp]

PANEM'S FIRST QUARTER QUELL! STARRING... SERAPHINA VOULGAR from DISTRICT TEN!

Seraphina was a feral child, an untamed thing. Orphaned and wanting, but never once willing to receive. Somehow, the depraved girl had survived, living off scraps and sleeping with the livestock. It wasn’t long before she learned to earn her keep, and the bloody work came naturally to her. And when the time came to vote, it was her name they called - the one they had been unable to control, fenced in at last.

SHE is 19 and her face claim is MIA GOTH. [The role of Seraphina is closed.]