#docpstarters

[thebabyboyofdistrictnine-blog]

edges of the world || open

Skene already knew he was up for a sleepless night before he had even gotten into his bed. As he curled up under the thick blanket, eyes trained on the enormous window that took up the entirety of the wall, he reached out towards the side table near him to find a small piece of metal. He ran his thumb over the surface of the metal, surprised to see the image on the screen shift, between a moving video of Capitolites wandering to a forest, then a view of the ocean, something he had never seen before and was fascinated by, watching the waves lap at the sand. Somehow the remote slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor, switching immediately to a field of golden grain, wind ruffling through the shimmering wheat.

A gasp caught in his throat and he stood up, the thick comforter falling away from him. Skene slid out of bed, his bare feet padding gently on the floor as he reached out, as if hoping he could jump through the window back into his home, opening his eyes because all of this was just a terrible dream.

A cold shock of reality hit him as his fingers were met with the cold glass, and he felt his eyes line with hot, disappointed tears as he pulled his hand back, swallowing hard as he blinked slowly, turning to leave the room. He walked through the apartment, and was about to crawl onto the couch and cry when he realized that he didn’t want to be found by his district partner or his stylist or anyone at all, so Skene headed past the main room to the elevator, hitting the button that had an L imprinted on it.

The doors opened to a room with large windows lining the walls, couches and drapes and carpets-- the sitting room where the tributes could rest between training hours. Skene crawled onto the closest couch and curled up into the smallest ball possible, eyebrows furled tight as he forced his sobs down. The small boy squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he heard soft footsteps along the carpet, clenching his hands into fists and hoping that they wouldn’t take notice of him.

[thebabyboyofdistrictnine-blog]

cut me open || open

It was the first day of training, and, in both an attempt to avoid people and build on something he was actually good on, Skene was hidden in the back of the Training Center, clutching a scythe and examining it quietly, the cool metal strange and light in his hands as he swung it in a slight arc, testing the weight before quietly slipping into the glass chamber, watching as the trainer set the difficulty levels to easy, then give him a thumbs up at the holograms started running towards him.

He darted out instinctively, fear tearing a veil over his senses, the weapon swinging like a natural extension of his body, slicing each of his holographic attackers in half, letting them crumble to bits at his feet. His blade hooked around ankles, sending bodies toppling, behind kneecaps, in the soft, fleshy bit between rib age and hipbones, around gleaming golden necks--

On and on they came, and Skene could feel himself crying, hot tears spilling down his cheeks as he lashed out desperately at the humanoid forms running at him. His vision was going blurry and wet as he shoved the end of the blade through a chest, ramming the end of the handle against someone's head as he did so. Both bodies crumbled away, and before Skene could even wipe his tears, the trainer upped the difficulty level, and now the golden, faceless bodies came swinging holographic swords and shooting arrows and the small boy ducked away, weapon clattering to the floor at his feet as he curled himself up in a ball on the small pad in the center of the room, feeling the heat of the holographic sword swing down on his neck before dissolving away, the glass door swinging open as he sat up shakily, rubbing at his eyes.

God, of course. First day of training and here he was crying on the floor, Skene knew that he looked completely pathetic to the tribute coming in to talk to him. "Did y-you need the room?" he asked in a small, shaky voice, still facing away from them as he got to his feet."I can go."

[thebabyboyofdistrictnine-blog]

welcome to the capitol || open

Skene felt incredibly exposed in his costume, bare-chested and dusted in a layer of fine golden glitter. There was so much metal on his body-- not only the delicate wheat-like circlet of gold perched atop his brown curls, but a heavy necklace that was forcing his shoulders down. His scars from nicks and scrapes in the field had all been covered by thin sheets of metal, copper and bronze and gold all layered to be pretty and hide all of his imperfections. Why they wanted him shirtless when all his ribs were showing and his stomach was curved in on itself he didn't know, honestly, and he didn't have many muscles to show off excepting his upper back and arms, which could have honestly been displayed in any other way at all that didn't involve the top half of his outfit being comprised entirely of glitter. His original plan was to stick to the edges of the room so that he wouldn't be noticed, but when he entered the dome, he found that the walls were made of glass, and outside, there was an enormous crowd, all jostling each other and pushing their way to the front, trying to catch a glimpse of the children inside. Skene felt sick. With their sharpened teeth and strangely colored hair, they looked like odd, enormous birds of prey, ready to swoop down on them. He quickly snatched a glass of something peach-colored and bubbly, smiling nervously at the Capitolites behind the glass before making his way closer to the middle of the room, taking a sip of the drink he had picked up in order to calm his nerves. His hands were trembling slightly as caught a fellow tribute's eye, and he waved at them with his free hand, hoping that they'd come over and begin a conversation so that he would have something to distract him from feeling like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass.