rye hoben (andrye) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-02-20 22:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 56th games, - arena, tribute: 56th rye hoben |
WHO: Rye Hoben [D11]
WHAT: [PLOT SLOT] Rye at the Under the Stars Cinema.
WHEN: Night #8 [BACKDATED]
WHERE: Under the Stars Cinema
WARNINGS: none
STATUS: Completed narrative
He walked with a slight limp now, unable to quite walk as confidently he had before. His wounds were healing naturally, probably starting to get infected, but those deep wounds on his legs were troubling him. He covered it well, the only tell being that slight limp. It wasn’t as though he could complain to anyone but the ever-present cameras, the idea of which being something that Rye found very unsettling. Every year there were tributes playing up the cameras but it was an idea that made Rye uncomfortable and he hadn’t dared to contemplate it. Fatigue drove him to sit on that uncomfortable wooden bench, surveying the rows of empty seats with a frown. It was a strange place to be in. Rye gazed up at the empty screen, unsure of why the Gamemakers had placed a powerless screen in the arena. Palms flat against the hard wooden bench, Rye watched the screen with distant eyes. There was nothing to watch, and his thoughts drifted. Eight days had passed, unless it was actually nine. Rye had counted and re-counted the number so many times that he knew the number perfectly even though his thoughts had become detached from the situation. Lack of sleep, lack of food and lack of water had caused him to wonder if he wasn’t dead already or perhaps living in some twisted nightmare. Facing the screen, he was lost in his thoughts still even when it suddenly burst into life. Light and sound caught his focus, the unmistakable sound of a small baby grabbing his attention. His eyes widened as he watched, a girl’s laughter combined with a flash of a smile. He caught a snatch of dialogue, Gita murmuring something reassuring to Daisy as she held the baby, but all too soon the images were gone. Sat leaning forwards, hands clutching the wooden bench, Rye willed the screen to show him something more of them. Their names were on his lips, about to be the first utterance that he’d made in days, when the screen lit up once again. Even as it showed him a longer sequence with Seeder and Chaff, all Rye could think of were the faces that he’d just seen. All too soon the pictures were gone, and Rye bowed his head. His shoulders sank, deflated and beaten. It was all too easy to forget the people he’d left behind, the people he’d forever believe that he’d failed. And, just for the hope of catching another glimpse of their faces, he spent the night watching the blank screen in silence. |