TW for religion for last paragraph!! (project 2 which is linked at the end of creds) goes into the imagery for a bit but nothing too much this is like. 2800 words i’m getting inspired by the ao3 gods there’ll be a marker for whichever mod that will mark this on where the marking points starts… it’s a boatload of yap but also can’t be cut out unlike the other ones otherwise it doesn’t flow as well :pensive: It had been long since he had seen Lu. That is, unsurprisingly, nothing out of the ordinary. From that night onwards, beyond what he had know as ‘home’. From that reaping onwards, there had been no trace, no clue, no sign that the cat he’d called ‘sibling’ had been alive. He hoped for many things. He hoped to believe that televisions tell lies, to ease children into dreamless slumber. He hoped that the real Lu had made their escape, into the fantasy in which they’ve talked about, the world, where no suffering and pain shall be inflicted onto any body or soul. Part of Cata Panthyre still believed that tale; That they would be in a better place now. One, where they do not have to see the brother’s untimely demise. But just for tonight, he wished that they would see - Just how he will avenge them both, and for all the unrest souls in this spectacle. - In the flashing moments that the crew prepared for the tributes’ entrances, it’s as if the arena had already greeted them with a faint smile - All that is left is the fatal touch that shall follow suit. Inside the room were cats of different sizes, all preparing of what shall be the eye-catcher of the year, Yet, reality marches forward like the cruelest gamemaker, and smothers all with the room’s humidity, the tensions that rise amongst every stylist, who have paid hours of their youth, to send off these tributes into relentless competition. But it will all be worth it. Like mannequins, the tributes are their display. Courtesy of the Capitol. He lets out a cheesy scoff, with little attention to the assistant that stood before them, who was, undoubtedly, amused, yet only within the boundaries of being respectful. “Don’t look so frowny, lil guy,” One of the younger voices poked out like a needle in a haystack, before identifying the source as a member of his crew, who now held Cata’s chin up for display. Cringe, that is. “They loved you back in the sesh! As a part of the crew, I’ve done my fair share of research.” Critiques of his size aside, Cata felt embarrassed at this conversation alone. Belittled, almost, at the sheer absurdity of the contexts which the conversation is held in. /Who does she think she is?/ A great feeling of rage ran down their spine like a roaring flame, which was weird, since anger isn’t something that someone *should* feel; But why does he take this to heart? “Tch. They sure loved me when I broke that damn window down as well, huh? How’s that for your research?” Cata complained, with a tinge of bitterness that was too bitter to his taste, The smaller feline, rejected, turned away with nothing more than a longing look in their eyes. “I’m sorry.” Is what the younger Cata would have said, he would go and chase down this feline in profuse apology, to make things right again. He would have been kinder, and make the world a better place. Yet in this world, he hesitates on doing so, and nothing but a short ‘ah.’ came out of his mouth. They feel the stares from every crew that seemed to have followed through his events so far, and he could only feel a remorse,a remorse so deep, that they now must forever hide. He must bear his teeth, and push through as a distinctive wetness in his nose begins to grow, and with a paw held uptight, he pushes through them. /Somethings never change, and they don’t change until you make it so./ vvv this is where it starts!!! tysm for reading this much omg ____________ … As all things follow suit, Cata looked at his interviewer with a hint of doubt, the halos, too flashy, too wild for their taste. It is a carefully-made façade, made to deceive the capitol, yet parts of her felt real. Those eyes, a grin, so wide, that could fit suns within. It reminds him of home. She was no livestock, and Cata was no shepherd, but the sentiment still remained the same, when Ellema adjusted her seating out of the sakes of comfort. At least she was no Capitolsus. How hard must it be to deal with their kind. On the other hand, the thrilled audience make their whispers and commotions; A young-looking feline, with a device in paw gestured to the tribute with a look of amazement. Must be a flex to see these in live. These microcelebrities. Whilst, on the other hand,a visibly aged tom had done little throughout his presence,but stare at Cata with confusion. Who did this rascal think he is, with those eyes that’s determined to lash out like the riptides? In all honesty, he was not fond of the capitol’s culture throughout his short stay. All gossip and reputation - How stupid is it to be controlled by these things.
Ellema, after what seemed like only mere seconds of distracted attention, gently waved her paws. It was, by no means, harmful, other than stating the haunting fact that both cannot change - He had been staring into the void for *far* too long, too long for the capitol’s attention span, at least. He blinked, and quickly snaked their head to get out of the dazed mindset. See, the faults of thinking too deeply is that they turn folks away; No one wanted to see a contemplating philosopher in a colosseum - It’s best to save it for the most *brilliant* minds- He thought, with air quotations, in this country. That had to be the lamest thing that this group had seen so far. Cata had the initial intentions of smacking her paws far, far away from their personal space, but had held his urges in a desperate attempt. /Make an good impression, it’s what determines how they treat you./ Prove that you’re smarter than they think. “Say, we have a bright storm brewing here, don’t we? Just look at those little tornadoes stirring. Anyways, no more bluffs here - Take us up to speed, Cata!” Rainbow hues radiated above the Capitolite’s head like a blare of sunlight - Every cat seeks such a light like this. In both ways, literally, and metaphorically. It reminded him of the days back home, in the stormy seasons, where alarms blared for farmers to return home. Not that the tornadoes could ever get in such proximities, not with that thick concrete wall, no. Still, he had to now choose whatever he’d respond with carefully. /Such an open-ended question./ He scoffed, but in a way that could not possibly be seen by the audience, surely. What sort of a question is that? Cata’s grey eyes met with Ellema’s, and he whispers something under his breath - It wasn’t important enough for him to remember such gestures after such events “I am a bit of a rebel, you could say.” Ha, to address themselves with such labels has to be the biggest understatement of the century, a disgrace, even. “And those that know, my sibling is- Was, Solumi Panthyre.” Of course, everything trails back to where it started, ironic, isn’t it? To think that the one thing you’ve left behind is the one thing that haunts you. “District 11 is alright, maybe not up to capitol standards, but it teaches you something about life.” But what about them? There wasn’t much to say besides from his home, his sibling, that casts such a shadow that even he could not escape from. “Anyways, more about me - That’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it?” He paused. Family, home, gosh, what else is there to talk about? There was nothing, nothing else that mattered in his life. Ambition, goals, dreams, all damned by the games. “I worked on my father’s…what’s the word? Farm, sort of, for a while. We are, fine, depends on your definition of being fine to begin with. Our house leaked a while, thanks to the rain season - Totally ruined everything, so I had to stay in her room for a bit.” Next up, showcasing what they knew. That’s what makes a tribute stand out, the tension, the drama when they go for each other’s throats. “As for the tributes, well, I knew Delilah-Anne, as far as acquaintances go. We were in school for a while.” Education. School is what ties districts and capitol-alike, to let them see that they are just children, to let them know, deep in their hearts, that they are pushing one of their own to face what no one should ever face. “Coriander, too. We knew each other quite well.” Another feeling held back by these simple words. Perhaps they’ll come to terms, someday? His admiration- Love, maybe? was stronger than what the tides could ever imagine. Was it even right to say that it is love? This was different, a mutual love as friends, as friends do. To say that the relationship is romantic, from an outsider's perspective were like to slap labels on a box that doesn’t hold such things. There was no point in mentioning Chlorophyll - Everyone knows, at this point. The tensions it brings, when a living victor’s sibling enters the games. “That’s what I’ve got so far.” “Excellent!” Exclaimed Ellema, her eyes twinkling like a ruler’s jewels. To keep such spirits up for the whole night must be hard, and it shows, through Cata’s observation. Her ears were not as perked as they were, and a subtle tiredness lulled over her speech, despite the constant effort. “Lett’s see what we’ve got next,” She chirped cheerfully, now fading away from any sign of fatigue. /Had she read their thoughts?/ Yet, something more had now inside their brain like an unwelcomed guest, a certain buzzing, fizzling that seemed too familiar all around, and as the puzzles all fell into place, it became painfully obvious, at least, to their ears, on the source of this white noise. A bloody siren. Of course it is a bloody siren. PT.2 IS HERE: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1365561635/
