. ♪ achlys . district 10 14 years, he/him . ‧──────‧ “ a house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master, with doors that none but the wind ever closes, ” - robert frost ‧──────‧ ♬. here he was again. yet another "event" to complete for the sake of a better chance at survival. wasn't an entire parade full of fake smiles and attention hungry tributes enough to satiate the capitol's cruel desire for harsh entertainment? must he still take part in these games for naught but the chance to delay what he was surely doomed for? . before achlys could dwell on the notion further, a subtle click resounded across the smooth floor, bringing his attention to the opening of a tall door. a fellow tribute slipped out silently with little to no expression as to what had taken place within the freshly exited room. achlys' brightly colored eyes followed the feline's slow steps in vain hope that some sort of preparation tactic would magically reveal itself to him through their actions. but of course, per usual, no help came as he was called to be next. . lys slowly brushed his paw over the deep brown satchel across his chest, taking his time to feel every inch of the bag's texture before getting up. his own pawsteps mirrored the previous tribute's sluggish pace as he hesitantly delayed his travel towards the door. lys glanced at his bag once more, wondering if he was even allowed to bring it. well no matter, what harm could it possibly cause anyway? he shoved it closer against his curly fur, and with a deep breath he pushed open the door. . achlys' flinched downward as the room's bright lights hit his face, causing his line of sight to fall nearly directly on the floor. floor? what floor? rows and rows of countless vents greeted him, with their slightly rough texture scraping uncomfortably against his paws when he moved. . this was a mistake. he was not fit for this... whatever it was. he knew his worth. he knew his talents. his beloved poems with all their flowery words written so neatly in swooping strokes and dramatic curls. the beautiful flowers he spent hours upon hours attentively searching and caring for. all completely useless. they would not help him here. . a burst of air suddenly hit him, thrusting the small cat upwards. his heart dropped as he realized his paws were no longer situated on the uneven floor. the sound of chewing brought his attention towards a gamemaker casually holding a piece of shrimp. the cat simply pointed back at the floor with his free paw, redirecting ly's gaze towards a flash of bright red. . "no..." he murmured quietly as the balloon lifted steadily through the air. this wasn't fair, how could he have possibly prepared for an aerial challenge? he wasn't ready for this! "please!! wait!," he called in a feeble voice, despite knowing there was certainly not a single gamemaker who cared. even the balloon itself merely drifted further away as achlys' watched despondently. . for a moment he considered giving up then and there, and just taking the loss. what good would it do if he did well? if he won this game it would only provide more hours of living in this wretched place, before he would surely be gone. . but... he was here now was he not? if his whole purpose was to fight for more time, then why should he waste what he currently had? . the other tributes must have known this already; no wonder the library achlys spent much of his time in always seemed so empty! yes, they must have spent their valuable time chatting happily in hopes of forming alliances, or training fiercely against practice dummies to build their strength. . and what had he done? hide. his time spent in the weapons room had been short, and the only interaction he actually had with another tribute resulted in a book being thrown at him. even then he hadn't seen that cat for a while, surely the stranger was doing much better than he was in all of this. . achlys closed his eyes, recalling that sharp indigo gaze which he could easily picture full of determination. those were the eyes he wished to have himself, eyes of victory. . he opened his own sky-blue orbs, cold air rushing alongside his face, accompaning his renewed energy. he wasn't sure how much time he had wasted floating there, but the balloon was in sight, there no need to waste any more. . achlys clumsily waved his paws in a barley successful attempt to propel himself at his target. the winds were strong, but thankfully he was quite a lithe cat, and had little resistance. lys pushed himself through the air again, this time more confidently and much less awkwardly. . push after push, he eventually reached within a few paces from the balloon. stretching out his paws, he managed to grasp onto the thin string attached. ly paused, his eyes widening with slight surprise. he had actually done it!! a small smile spread on his face, and for a moment he felt satisfied with himself. proud even. || continued below in notes & credits ||
|| continued from above!! make sure to read instructions first! || . achlys pulled the balloon in closer, his eyes admiring the shiny red shade it was colored. it reminded him of the roses he had gathered recently, their fresh blossoms still partially tucked in as if snugly asleep. at the thought he instinctively reached a paw towards his satchel, which had somehow stayed connected throughout the blowing air, thanks to it's long strap. . holding on tightly to the balloon with his other paw, he unclicked the bag's single latch, and reached inside. carefully achlys felt for the soft petals, while making sure to avoid any spare thorns or brambles. bringing out a single red rose, achlys began to slowly lift it towards the balloon in comparison. . however, before he could do so, a powerful gust of wind suddenly cut the act short, pushing him through the air without warning. achlys almost lost his grip as the force continued, showing no signs of stopping. . after somewhat regaining his grip on the balloon, he managed to let out a shaky breath of relief. a glance towards the gamemaker's amused faces as they watched him react, told him this was no accidental mistake. . /just a bit longer/, he told himself as he tightened his paws in determination. a sharp pain met him as he did so, bringing attention back to rose he was still fiercely clutching. however, as the winds continued to press against him, it became increasingly more difficult to hold onto the two objects at once. . achlys pressed his lips together firmly. he /had/ to free his other paw somehow, or he could risk losing the balloon... but it might be risky to reach for his bag again, what if more plants flew out? well, he could just drop it and let it float around... although it felt like roses were so very rare to find in these parts, who knows when he would find more? lys searched his surroundings frantically, his gaze landing on the string floating from the red balloon. . yes... perhaps he could tie it to the string!! achlys tugged the thin white thread closer, taking the balloon with it. he fumbled around in futile attempts to form a successful knot, failing to notice how near the balloon had come to his paws in the process. . "aha!" he began in celebration as he finally managed to secure the flower. a small smile found it's way on his features once more. "i di–" before he could finish, an ear piercing pop interrupted him. . and then the wind turned off. ♪ ‧──────‧ “ its floor all littered with glass and with plaster; it stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses. ” - robert frost ‧──────‧ notes & credits . parts of the poem “ asking for roses ” by robert frost were used in this srp . yes, achlys illegally snuck in his bag somehow (neither he nor i knew it wasn't allowed i'm sorry i learned after i wrote it he's a rulebreaker now oops) . fun fact! the color you see in red roses comes from anthocyanin pigments, and the shade of red can actually change depending on the soil's ph level! . i'm lazy ok sorry for the messy writing and no thumb yet, someday i'll draw it... maybe
