#hcrdcreeks

[diosefm]

@hcrdcreeks​​ when: early morning, a day after diose is found where: two’s floor

Robyn is a wonderful nurse. Diose wishes she could tell them that. After the arduous work they’ve done, spending hours tending to her wounds, the least they deserve is to be told how wonderful they are. She can’t bring herself to do it, though. Her lips won’t fully connect with her mouth. After having spent so much of her breath on DeeZee, poor and sweet Robyn is left but nothing but hushed apologies. The barely managed to beg them to leave her and go check on Silver before her tongue stopped to her brain’s orders. 

She’s managed to get a couple of hours of sleep before a loud bang followed by the sound of glass shattering wakes her up. The sounds take her right back to the previous night. Did they notice she got help before something happened and they’ve decided to finish her off? She is convinced of it, until whoever is out there curses and she swears they sound exactly like Slate.

With her brain not working at its full capacity, Diose ignores Robyn’s pleas for her to stay in bed and runs towards the living room. Or attempts to. Three steps is all she is able to take before she falls onto the ground, her left leg giving up and forcing her to crawl towards Slate.

A sigh of relief leaves past her lips when she spots him and knows they’re both safe. That gives her the push she needs to stand up and stop him from running into another flower vase. But, what she doesn’t understand, is why is this happening. 

“S-s-ssslate,“ she whispers, voice hoarse from lack of usage. A shaky hands grabs onto his arm for support, the other going to his chin and forcing him to look at her. And that’s when she sees it. She is horrified, but her scream is stuck in her throat and she is crying so much her tears continuously end in her mouth. 

Maybe it’s not the best time to be scared. Her own problems are ignored as she leans into him, hoping he will her her keep her balance as she leads him towards his bedroom. “S-ssafe.”

[rovxfm]

@hcrdcreeks​  when: days after slate’s grand return where: his room, mayhaps?

Roux doesn’t realize what his feet are doing, taking him to Two’s floor without realizing until he is inside and an avox tries to escort him towards some living room that looks like it has seen better days. It feels weird to care, to realize that he is actually kind of worried about Slate. For Roux, this is the year of realizing stuff and he’s been doing a lot of that in the past few weeks.

It feels weird to care, to stand by Slate’s door with his hands in his pockets and actually be glad he is still alive. Not that they’re the best of pals, but Slate has been there for Roux. At least in his own way. Whether it was because he wanted something out of Roux or he actually felt something genuine, Roux isn’t too concerned about that. 

“I suppose now is a good time to offer you a pair of signed Roux sunglasses.“

[hovergrove]

SEVEN: What's something you have always wanted but been just out of reach?

SEVEN: What's something you have always wanted but been just out of reach?

This one they know: “Just—a family. Somewhere to belong. Somewhere where I know I matter.”

Hudson grew up superfluous. They were younger than their siblings, in way that seemed to hang over their head even if no one said it to their face: unplanned, unwanted, an accident. They tried to be helpful, but what could they do that their siblings couldn’t already? There were already enough hands to help. They knew, when they left home, that they weren’t leaving a wound behind.

Their goodbye felt so final, and so their return was nothing but awkward. Their family moved into their home in the Victors’ Village, because of course they did, because Hudson would never be as spiteful as to deny them that, just because the home they grew up in wasn’t full of the love that they longed for. And so their new home isn’t any different than the first, not that they really expected it to be. It’s just bigger, and there’s Fava and Griffin close by when they can bring themself to intrude—and that isn’t nothing, it’s far from it. 

[pistaclearmark]

NINE: What does happiness look like to you?

“happiness doesn’t look like anything.” he says quickly, with a terse shrug of his shoulders. he bites down hard on his bottom lip--the skin is broken, and his stomach twists when he realizes that he’d hardly noticed, that he hadn’t felt the sting of sweat making its way down the bridge of his nose, that he’s become so used to the taste of copper on his tongue that he doesn’t think about flicking his tongue over the wound, coating the inside of his mouth with the blood. he inhales and exhales slowly--maybe that’s what happiness is, becoming numb to the pain. removing yourself from the equation entirely. 

“it’s--” he shrugs his shoulders again, doesn’t look up from his work. “it’s--blurry. colors and shapes as you move past them as fast as you can. beyond that--definition, complication--it’s not happiness.”

[blythefm]

nine

NINE: What does happiness look like to you?

Red.       It’s on the walls. On the floor. Her clothes. Her hands. 

Maybe it’s ghoulish, but it is the kind of happiness she’s been dreaming of. Of the red she sees every night in her dreams to change, for the blood that is being spilled to stop coming from the people she loves and instead seep from the lifeless bodies of those who have made her life hell.

[diosefm]

@hcrdcreeks​  when: late at night during a peaceful moment in the reception  where: slate’s table

The last meeting she had with Slate could only be described as glum. Everyone seems to be in good spirits that night, almost as if they all had decided to pretend the games are set to happen soon. Even Diose is actually smiling, feeling at peace thanks to the calming presence of her plus once. She can only hope Slate feels the same, especially after their last conversation.

Diose wants to show him that she is somewhat okay, that she is at least improving and has decided to fight back and not let the Capitol end her life so easily. She can’t let that happen now. Diose is trying, and she wants Slate to see it as she can’t bear knowing her friend left her room thinking he’d be losing her soon.

“Mind if I keep you company for a while?“

[diosefm]

closed starter for : @hcrdcreeks​ location : diose’s penthouse when : sometime after snow’s party

Once her high heels are off, it means Diose is finally at ease no longer playing a part. She smiles, enjoying the feeling of her bare feet touching her wooden floors as she walks up to Slate and offers him a drink.  She might have needed to leave the party for her own sanity, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend the night alone. Diose blames the alcohol in her system since it keeps bringing up thoughts and memories she desperately wants to leave behind. “What an absolute joke of an event that was,” she comments, huffing out. “They ought to hire someone more capable of being in charge of the guest list who does know what the wrold exclusive means.”

[diosefm]

who: teal’s papa, @hcrdcreeks​​​​ ​ when: an hour or two after the announcement of the QQ where: disitrict 2, slate’s house

— inspo —

The second she heard, Diose packed her things and traveled to District 2. She knew she did not have even one minute to waste, so she didn’t bothered to know on Slate’s door. Diose dragged her things inside, dropping everything before she desperately began looking for him. “Slate?” She swore she was keeping it together. She was all smiles when she watched the announcement with her assistants, but as soon as they left and that awful phone call, Diose trashed her studio. Is this what those who rebelled against the Capitol felt? No, she couldn’t think about that right now. She needed to talk to Slate. So, she continued trying to find him, looking in every room until she spotted him, blankly staring at her. 

“I just... I don’t know what this means.“ Or more like she didn’t want to think of the implications of the announcement. He was safe, right? He needed to. Walking up to him, Diose wrapped her arms around him and began sobbing.