Ezekiel Jones, D11 Tribute (oneofme) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-03-23 11:23:00 |
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It was because the Reaping was in a few days and Shift found himself with a few hours not at work that he ended up loitering outside of the entrance to Victor's Village, wondering if he should or shouldn't knock on his brother's door. "What the hell," he muttered, and he headed straight for Miles's house. He got along fairly well with his brother when they saw each other. Shift looked up to him. Being Reaped was far from Shift's mind, but that didn't mean he couldn't talk to his brother. Presumably about anything but the Reaping and the Hunger Games. He knocked on the door out of habit, even though he figured he would probably be able to just walk on in if he wanted to. He didn't want to be rude though, so he knocked. He rubbed the side of his neck, turned to look over his shoulder at the empty Victor's Village square, then turned back as the door opened. Fresh air from outside waffed into the foyer of the home and the open door revealed a young man whom Miles had not been expecting. It was unusual to get visitors who knocked - the other Victors usually just let themselves in and he rarely had other guests. “Hey,” said Miles, though he didn’t move from the doorway. “Is everything ok?” he asked after a pause. Shift gave a shrug and then nodded when he realized that his nonchalance might be mistaken for there being a problem at home. "Yeah sure. Just had some time away from the line so I thought I'd come see my favorite brother." He punctuated the sentence with a grin. He didn't move from the stoop though, waiting to maybe be let inside or be sent away or whatever. “I’m your only brother,” Miles remarked wryly. He looked over his shoulder for a moment, as if deciding on something, then stepped outside to join Shift on the porch. The closed the door behind himself and offered only, “Rush is taking a nap.” So it would be like this today. Shift nodded and scratched the side of his head, mussing up his hair a little. "Yeah but that doesn't --" He shook his head and stepped back down one of the steps. "Look, I know in a few days you're going back off to the Capitol and I actually had time off so I thought I'd come say hey. If you're busy, no biggie. I can go." In truth, he didn't know what he expected when he came over here. He wanted to talk. To be reassured in his one moment of doubt that he wouldn't be Reaped. Or, maybe not even that because of course he won't be Reaped. Maybe he just wanted some kind of excuse to see his brother. Miles’ expression dropped sourly at the mention of the Capitol. It felt like he’d only just come home and going back was something he dreaded every year. This time they had Halle to look after too, which meant things would be a little more stressful than usual. “I’ve got time,” he replied, clapping Shift on the shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “What’s on your mind?” It was hard to put into words what was on his mind. For a long moment, Shift just let the boxy sounds around them spill over into the silence. He drummed his fingers against his side and shook his head. "Guess this time of year I'm just usually thinking about you," he admitted. Miles had never been good at dealing with his family’s reaction to him as a Victor - his mother hadn’t spoken to him in years, his father barely looked him in the eye, and although he taken care to help them financially, they’d never been whole again. Shift’s concern was both touching and puzzling, leaving him feeling itchy and a bit like running. “They won’t send me back in,” Miles said at last; though by now it was more lip service than adamant belief. He knew, logically, they never would, but that didn’t stop the nightmares that plagued him, some of which featured him in the various arenas that he’d watched his tributes die in. “And it’s nice in the Capitol,” he lied, “they treat us well. Lots of food and stuff.” That had never even occurred to Shift before, that Miles might have to go back in. He looked at him, mouth slightly agape, and hesitated. "No, I didn't -- well of course you're not going to go back in." But it wasn't that that worried Shift. It was Miles disappearing to the Capitol and coming back every time. Shift couldn't imagine what the Capitol was like. Well, he could: he imagined it as a magical place where people weren't hungry and people were treated the right way. But that didn't explain why it always felt to him like the Hunger Games time of year put so much tension into the air. Even now, with Halle coming back a Victor … "Right, that's good," he said. "Food is good." The remark prompted a smile from Miles. “Yah, and I’m sure everyone in the district is more upset than usual about the Reaping,” he mused. “No more food parcels until we win again.” And Miles didn’t care to guess when that would be - not this year, he was sure. “What are you going to do after the Reaping?” he asked. Having not been in the District after a Reaping for the last eight years, Miles could barely imagine what went on after the train pulled away. He’d only been fourteen the last time he’d been left behind and that other life was often times hard to recall. "Not like there are ever back to back winners in the outlying districts, huh?" Shift tried to make a joke about it but the fact was that two people he probably knew were going to die again this year. He didn't like thinking about it. It made him a bit sick to his stomach. At the next question, he shrugged and looked at his brother with a distracted look. "Probably the same as always. Have supper at home and then go back to work in the morning. Not much else to do." Miles half-smiled, though it didn’t quite reach is eyes. He really didn’t remember if that’s what’d they’d done too before his own Reaping. “I’d rather be here,” he told him, sincerely. He didn’t want to dwell on what was coming though, so he tried to change the subject by saying suggestively, “Maybe you should find some girl to take off with.” A girl. That was rich. "The only girls who've shown any interest in me have wanted to ask about you." He stepped away from his brother and sucked in a sharp breath. "Yeah, maybe one day. After the Reaping. Wouldn't want to like a girl and have her die on me like that, right?" Miles’ expression scrunched in a bit of cynical disbelief. Young girls being interested in him seemed like a laughable concept, but he didn’t comment. “More people die in factory accidents, than in the Hunger Games,” he replied to Shift’s inquiry, eying his brother with slight concern. “Anyway, here, let me get you some coins. You can buy yourself something nice to wear.” Miles pulled a very worn wallet from his jeans pocket and emptied it of its monetary contents, pressing the cold handful against Shift’s chest. Shift wasn't sure he wanted the money. It didn't feel right. But what could he do or say to refuse it. What reason did he have for doing so? "Thanks," he mumbled, taking it and pocketing it. He tried to give his brother a smile as he looked back toward the gates leading him out of the nestle of houses. "Well, I'll see you." “Yah,” Miles said, offering a false smile. “See you.” He watched Shift leave, torn between saying something and saying nothing. In the end he opted for the latter and turned around himself, going back inside, and shutting the rest of the world out. |