#wtfispatience

[70won]

sc. @wtfispatience

avoxes unnerved johanna. they stood in corners and their shadows stretched towards her as if coaxing out the guilt that clawed in her chest. she could have been one of them, any of them could have. punishment by the capitol was simply a matter of luck. at the drop of a hat one could be deemed traitorous enough to have their voice taken from them and those were considered the ones who got off easy. the girl with her head bowed was her only company in the tribute center while her district partner and mentor had stepped out for separate needs. the only sound that echoed through the vast room was the clink of johanna’s fork against her plate and both their breaths exhaling synchronously.

“ you should sit, ” she said without looking up from her meal. “ no one’s here to rat out your treason. ” she let a humourless laugh escape her lips before finally meeting the other girl’s gaze. it was the first time johanna had let herself acknowledge the help assigned to them. her shoulders tensed in recognition and her knuckles grew white from her grip on her cutlery. everyone knew the infamous story of the chrysalis family. or at least the rumours. once powerful enough to rule panem, they had fallen to tragedy just before president snow had taken on his role. the districts knew the implication behind such a string of events despite the capitol’s blind ignorance. johanna clenched and unclenched her jaw before deciding on feigning unfamiliarity, would probably be safer for the both of them.

“ i’m serious, ” she insisted, nudging a bowl of custard down the length of the table. her eyes darted to the cameras nestled in the roof. “ got them wired. a few hours every night, not long enough for anyone to notice or care but you’re safe for at least another thirty minutes. ”

[fyrewalks]

i'm punching him in his face. // @wtfispatience

There's a part of Bob that's just as vindictive and emotional as anyone else, the part that hears the determination in Amelia's voice and cheers it on. And then there's rationality, the overwhelming desire for steadiness. He knows people tend to call him meek, reserved, but Bob's always seen it as self-reservation.

His hand closes around Amelia's bicep, gentle but firm. "Not here," he says lowly. "Not like this."

The bar is hardly crowded, but there's enough familiar faces that could easily point them out if word gets out.

"Let me drive you home."

[fyrewalks]

i'm not just into that stuff. // @wtfispatience

Bradley lets the comment hang there, in no rush to fill the gaps of quiet conversation. He taps his nails against the amber bottle, but doesn't raise it to his lips. Half full still, Bradley's not sure why he ordered it when he's in no real mood to drink tonight. Habit, likely. Nights and nights spent at a bar because company was better than a quiet house.

"I don't have much choice in it," he sighs, pushing his drink away and propping his chin on his hand. There's no reason he should be this tired, but two weeks left of leave has turned boredom into melancholy.

"I go to therapy or they find some place to park me."

[fyrewalks]

i'm not telling you. it's a surprise. // @wtfispatience

"Sure, man." Javy rolls his eyes, before leaning back a step to close his locker. As much as he appreciates the effort, Jake's tight lipped plans aren't as much as a mystery as he wants them to be.

"Come on," he continues, as he steps towards the exit. "I know you - it's a Friday night." If nothing else, the evening guaranteed alcohol in some capacity "You told me to ditch the uniform," he continues to list off, "pick out something 'nice'."

"You're gonna play wingman at some stupidly over priced club," Javy concludes. It's a nice gesture, but ultimately unneeded. He doesn't know how many different ways to say that his recent break up hasn't bothered him.

[fyrewalks]

would you rather have great sex or great food? // @wtfispatience

Nat lowers her drink slowly, a furrow between her brows. She glances around them, the other pilots and wizzos scattered across the ready room and clearly disinterested in their conversation.

"Come again," she says, as if she isn't clear on what she heard from Archer. There is, of course, no mistaking what was asked. Nat is no stranger to conversation turning odd and bizarre; ready rooms breed boredom no matter if they're stateside, as they are now, or on a carrier ship.

Nat glances around. Boredom aside, not exactly her place to have such a conversation. "I think the answer should be obvious."

[memuntos]

don't ask questions , you don't wanna know . @wtfispatience FT VIRGILIO SEVERINO

wearing curators white filled soira with a level of unwarranted confidence she would have otherwise never have been able to muster in the heart of asoron. the stolen garments seemed to amplify her already loud personality and allowed her to march the streets with a dangerous lack of care. tyl would call it callous of her, remind her that she was still a criminal if caught in her lies. but soira didn’t pay his nagging voice in the back of head any heed. he wasn’t there, therefore she had to make her own rules. she whipped out the baton at her waist, the stick almost slipping in her grip, and pointed it at his bag.

“ who says i didn’t want to know ? ” soira hadn’t cornered the man for no reason. in fact she had no intention of cornering him at all. until he had rounded the bend in the street and caught her wrestling with a locked door, suspiciously uncharacteristic of a trained curator. to save her own skin she had quickly turned a pointed finger back at him for also trespassing. the blame game only worked when she looked like she held authority. soira adjusted the cap on her head, making sure her curls stayed tucked firmly in place. “ you can empty your bags here or empty your bags in front of The Court, choice is yours. ”

[fyrewalks]

"You do realise you're still an idiot." // @wtfispatience

"Yeah?" Bradley's eyebrows raise and he's aware of the picture he makes, slumped shoulders posted up at the bar top. He looks as bitter and unfriendly as he feels, which suits him just fine. "Fuck off."

He doesn't care if it makes him an ass. He doesn't. He'd like for her, as he's said, to fuck off and leave him in peace. An overcrowded bar is unlikely place to find it, but Bradley is just fine with the noise and the crowd.

"You need me to repeat it?"

[fyrewalks]

It's quiet, the evening hour contributing to a near-empty locker room. Most people are sane, ditching base as soon as they're off clock and have no obligation to stay any longer. Nat, though, doesn't have any family or plans that she's beholden to. There's the typical group likely already assembling at the Hard Deck, likely to be extra packed given it's a Friday, but she's in no hurry to get there.

"Why do you always assume I'm lying?" // @wtfispatience

She closes her locker, frowning. Shouldering her duffel, filled with a few workout clothes she isn't proud to admit that have festered in the bottom of her locker a little too long, she turns to narrow her gaze at the interrupter of her peace and quiet. Another reason Nat prefers an evening workout, a chance to clear her head without disruption.

"I don't make a habit of assuming anything." Partially true. Nat isn't as likely to jump to conclusions as most people she knows; she still does, though. "Is there any reason I should think you were telling the truth earlier?"