#ft. apple

[renmaniwan]

Ren 📲 Apple

Ren: i'm so so sorry apple Ren: can i help in any way? you know i’m here for you

[scrcin]

son aproximadamente las diez de la mañana, está seguro que si se queda quieto en un sólo lugar sus ojos inevitablemente terminarán por cerrarse después del termino del turno nocturno y tener que cubrir un par de horas extra en la tienda de conveniencias, uno de sus dos trabajos a medio tiempo. ‘ ya voy en camino ‘ teclea en su celular el mensaje que va dirigido hacia quien puede nombrar como una de sus personas favoritas. por coincidencias de la vida su lugar de trabajo no quedaba tan retirado de la pequeña cafetería donde apple ayudaba. pequeña campanilla suena anunciando su llegada “ hola, buenos días ” saluda con una pequeña reverencia apenada a quien advierte es el hermano de la más chica “ eh, y-yo vengo a buscar a apple ” contrario señala con la cabeza camino que ha de tomar para encontrarse con quien no ha visto desde hace unas semanas, agradece con una nueva reverencia antes de ponerse comenzar a acercarse. trabajar en más de un empleo es peor de lo que jamás habría podido imaginarse, suerte para él que ese día descansaba en el pequeño restaurante done también ayudaba regularmente “ te encontré ” habla despacito a espalda femenina. a la par deja caer desde arriba frente el rostro de la menor un pequeño llavero en forma de conejito que sostiene una fresa “ lo vi y me acordé de ti ” @vcnnyz

[coletteneptune]

Task 001 // The Reaping

She had not been expecting Reaping Day to go smoothly, despite the many people who assured her over and over again that it would. All of the preparations had been made and the extra Peacekeepers sent to each District. Why would it go anything less than perfectly?

More Peacekeepers, Colette knew, could not quiet the crowds or stem the tides if they turned against the Gamemakers. But all seemed to be going well. She watched the Reaping feeds from the Capitol stage, before which stood thousands of people gathered to see what the Quell had in store.

It seemed that the crowd was not disappointed as they watched the feed from District One. It was unsurprising; One had plenty of all stars to choose from. Of course the people were happy.

Two, Three, Four, each were met with massive cheers from the Capitol crowds, though Colette’s eyes were on the people of the Districts in the shots. There was shock, confusion. People were still. The cameras remained tight on the stages, though, the clones’ faces.

Five, six, seven. The mayor’s daughter, who had been killed by her own people, Colette would have killed to see the reaction of the crowd but the cameras were tight on Bellona’s face instead.

Eight, nine, ten. The number of all stars dwindling in the further Districts. The girl from the first Games, the quiet boy who’d scored the Eleven.

Eleven.

Eleven.

Eleven.

Colette took a step back, though her expression remained the same as it had been: serene. Calm. She was a Gamemaker, she could not show a fracture in her facade.

And yet her mother’s face was reflected on the giant screen in front of her.

Apple.

She wanted to run, she wanted to find Lysander and ask if he’d known. The bodies. All of the bodies below her office for all of those months and her mother’s was one of them.

Her face remained plastered in the pleasant expression she had manufactured over the years as a star, a child who the Capitol adored as much as they had adored her mother.

It made sense. Of course it made sense. Was she simply a fool for not seeing it coming?