#with. primrose

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: SOLEIL FLEMING & PRIMROSE EVERDEEN ( @damagedflames ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: TRIBUTE TOWER, TWELFTH FLOOR ᴡʜᴇɴ: DAY OF THE (PROPER) LAUNCH

Never let it be said that Soleil Fleming did not know how to process her feelings. In fact, she had three tried and true strategies – deflection, repression, and explosion. Sure, she'd been informed on numerous occasions that these weren't healthy coping strategies, but they'd worked well enough throughout her life that she'd never bothered to try and differently. Perhaps, she should have invested some time into this, she thinks – as she sits on the fifth floor, picking at her nails as she watches Finch and Ampere on the screen, no Lark nor Joule to be seen. Electra has disappeared somewhere, and, for the first time, Soleil has begun to comprehend that they are completely, utterly, alone.

They can feel their breathing quicken in a familiar pattern, legs bouncing up and down in time with it. The longer they sit here and dwell on their own loneliness, the more they're going to spiral. Fuck this.

They're not entirely aware of themself as they barge their way out of the fifth floor living area and into the elevator, nor when they press the button for the twelfth floor. Maybe they're just looking for company, for someone they know will be friendly, despite the situation. Despite how much they've teased her ( in their own head... mostly ) there is a sense of relief that comes with the sight of PRIMROSE EVERDEEN, even if she looks surprised to see Soleil on the twelfth floor.

"Uh... hi, Prim." They say, rubbing at the back of their neck. "I'm, uh... there's not really anybody left downstairs, so I was, um..." Soleil pauses, realising just how pathetic they sound right now. "Can I watch the games up here?"

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: PRUDENCE WARREN & PRIMROSE EVERDEEN ( @damagedflames ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: PRESIDENT SNOW'S MANSION ᴡʜᴇɴ: THE TRIBUTE BALL

Growing up, Prue had always loved dancing. One of the few things her parents had taken with them when they fled District Twelve was an old music box. When she was a baby, they'd played it, over and over again, to get her to go to sleep. As she grew older, her parents would play it and they would all sing and dance together in their tiny living room. She kept it, after she lost her parents. But she hasn't played it since.

Tonight, Prue doesn't feel much like dancing. She's much too on-edge for that – mind whirring over all the different ways their little plot could go wrong. The ways that she and her squad would be punished if it did. It was such an odd juxtaposition – watching countless carefree individuals dancing without a care, all the while knowing that several lives could depend on the events of the next several hours.

Prue is only pulled from her thoughts when a figure clouds her vision. She blinks a couple of times, before a genuine smile forms on her face at the sight of PRIMROSE EVERDEEN. "Prim," She greets, "Sorry, I... I almost didn't see you there."