#kingofsugarcubes

[tinyblondedetective]

The Victor of the 72nd Annual Hunger Games // Closed Rp

She’d done it, she had survived the arena and made it out of The Hunger Games alive, but winning didn’t feel as good as she had expected it would. Chloe should have known that she would feel some sort of guilt for the lives she had taken to save her own, she had never wanted to hurt another person. She sat quietly on the train that was taking her home, she’d chosen against staying in her room, instead she watched the blur of the scenery go by, trying to keep her mind on the fact that she would soon see her younger brother once again.

(king-of-sugarcubes)

[primainterfectrix]

The winter sunlight was always harsh to those who were not expecting it. It was especially  harsh  to  Johanna  as  dawn  broke  through  her  bedroom  window,   the   rays  beginning their  routine  assault  on  her  eyelids.  A  soft  groan escaped her as she rolled to face  away  from  the  sun's troops. She absolutely did not want to  think  about leaving the warmth of her bed for the cool chrome of the  Capitol. The prospect of having to smile for  people  that  she did not care about was not an  appealing  one.  The  tendrils of sleep were tugging at her ankles  again  when  a soft but insistent buzz sounded from her bedside table. Whipping the thick comforter away from her,  she  stood  and silenced the noise, the pale material  of  the  shirt  in  which she slept swishing around the tops  of  her  thighs.

                   She padded to  her  kitchen,  still  half  asleep  and  not  very                    appreciative  of  the  visible  snow's  high   albedo.  With  the                    push of a button, the familiar sound of coffee brewing  began.                     Soon after, she heard a sound that sent  chills up  her  spine.                     She could feel  someone  standing  behind  her,  only  a  few                     paces away. Her eyes darted to the  knife  block  that  sat  to                     her left. Less than a second later, she  had  whipped  around                     to face the intruder, small but sharp bread knife in hand. She                     was about to attack  when  her  sleepy  brain  registered  the                    face as a familiar one just as  the  coffee  machine  signalled                     that it had finished its task. A long  breath was expelled  from                     Johanna's  lungs.  Her  expression  turned  deadpan   in   an                     attempt to express her lack of amusement.

                                ❝You scared the shit out of me.❞

[getoffmysketchpad]

"Oh my god. Are you okay?"

She held her arm, which was pouring with blood from a deep cut. “I-I’m fine…it’s just a scratch.”

[axedmemories]

{+8} Eight are approaching