montyduff

[montyduff]

saph-wolf​:

Sapphire was on her way to the mentors lounge, because she hated day one, when all the tributes walked around like headless chickens, either excited or terrified, looking for help or advice. She was walking through one of the narrower corridors when she came to a stop before she crashed into the boy in front of her.

“Why are you standing here?”

Monty stumbled back after running into yet another person, at the same time wondering where people in the Capitol learned how to walk. “I’m just looking for my floor,” he said quickly. That wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be, but it was the only place he knew he wouldn’t be questioned.

#convo: Sapphire #Monty #129 #ignore text

[montyduff]

surya-mirga​:

Tributes were always funny on their first day in the Tower. Surya was certain that all of them, no matter how angry or excited to be there, ended up looking like a deer in headlights at some point. “You look lost,” she informed the man. She’d scrolled through the Gazette’s photo recap of the Reapings, but she couldn’t place him. “Are you trying to find someone or avoid someone?”

Monty recognized the woman instantly as one of the mentors who had once bested the Games themselves, but that still didn’t bring her name to mind. Surely she could be someone he could follow, but it wasn’t her job to keep him in check. “Neither, actually. I don’t know anybody here, so I couldn’t be doing either.”

#convo: Surya #Monty #129

[montyduff]

slateskylar​:

Slate wasn’t even technically on Twelve’s team, but he did almost always root for Twelve’s tributes, as the closest thing to patriotism he had was for his home district. Not only would Hestia be pleased, but people would get to eat back home, and that meant a lot to him.

He was on a coffee run for Lysander and a few other Gamemakers, and was already fighting the urge to spit in them, when he spotted Monty, looking a bit lost, in a corridor that led towards the Gamemaker Tower. “If you’re planning on breaking into the Gamemaker Headquarters I can help, but we gotta be smart.”

Monty turned on clumsy feet and pointed at himself to verify he was being spoken to. “Gamemaker headquarters? What’s that? What’s a Gamemaker?” He couldn’t recall hearing anything or the sort on the train ride over. Every hour introduced a new word he needed to know and the sinking feeling he hadn’t felt since his school days rose in his stomach. 

#convo: Slate #Monty #129

[montyduff]

gatlin-hazer​:

.

“You okay, man?” Gatlin asked. He could only assume by the look on his face that the other was a tribute the same as him. The other tribute looked off– nervous, sweaty– and Gatlin couldn’t blame him given everything. “I was givin’ myself a tour of the place, tryin’ to figure out where everything is at. Feel like walkin’ with me?” He asked, pushing his hands down into his pockets.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, all-knowing that it was a strange answer. Monty hadn’t had the confidence to speak to a single soul, finding it easier when someone approached him first like now. “I was doing the same, but you look like you know where you’re going.” He positioned himself beside the new stranger who could only assume was a fellow tribute. “I’m Monty.”

#convo: Gatlin #Monty #129

[montyduff]

marleybowie​:

.

“I think they are ours to take. Otherwise, why would they be displaying them?” Marlene pointed her palm at what went on ahead of them, people buzzing all around with miniature desserts or flutes of champagne in hand. Why would they be depriving the guests of honor of that? “All the tributes but one will die. I expect them to at least give us the liberty to take cupcakes without permission.”

“Ours to take,” he repeated under his breath. It may well have been the first time he’d ever heard those words. Nothing of worth came at no cost or without having first earned it, or at least that was what he was taught. “So I can just..” he began before reaching out to a delectable looking piece of brown bread that topped others like it. Before he knew it, the flaky loaf was in the center of his mouth sending his taste buds into a storm and for a second, he thought he might cry joyously. 

#convo: Marlene #Monty #129

[montyduff]

shark-bcit​:

For once in her life, Sirena didn’t want to be here. From the time she could remember, she had always dreamed of being here, in the tower, amongst all the bustling excitement. But now, now the halls were tainted with memories of the last times she’d been with her sisters, and now she had no one to lean on. No Nereus. No Selene. No one. So she was wandering, avoiding her own floor in favor of anywhere else. 

Nearly running into someone else when they seemed to come to from a trance and not move, Sirena huffed. “Are you just going to stand there forever?” She demanded.

Monty met the girl’s fierce eyes that matched the brashness of her words and immediately stepped to the side. “No, not forever,” he breathed. “Sorry, I was just trying to figure out where I am. I’ve been wandering around for about an hour now.”

#convo: Sirena #Monty #129

[montyduff]

ramonahan​:

.

Ever the eager tribute, Ramona took to scoping out the competition in the lobby. Most didn’t seem as tough this time around, but she learned quickly not to judge a book by its cover. She wouldn’t have even guessed that some of the people passing by her were Victors if it weren’t for the fact that she was in the Capitol. But the kid standing in the middle of it all confused as ever? He stood out like a sore thumb. It was clear that he didn’t belong there.

“Are you trying to get shoulder checked by someone? I hear Capitolites don’t take too nicely to people spilling their coffee,” she said from her spot on one of the couches.

“Shoulder checked?” he wondered aloud, failing to understand the warning in enough time to avoid doing exactly what she was trying to save him from. He backed up against another person without restraint, knocking both them and the two tall glasses of water they were carrying onto the floor in a mix of booms and shattering. Monty bent down to try and help, but his hands wavered back and forth between the person and the mess, helping neither as he flailed.

#convo: Ramona #monty #129

[montyduff]

lyricordell​:

.

“so much.” Lyric nodded, walking towards the bar with flick walking next to her dutifully. “my tributes, too. so hey, I got you, dude!” she nodded, sitting down at the bar. “gimme two ordells, please!” she asked the bartender, holding up two fingers and laughing when he asked for ID. “one sec.”

She hadn’t given him a reason not to trust her, so he happily hopped onto a stool attached to the flashy bar. “I didn’t think districts were allowed to help each other,” he shared. “Or be this nice. I thought it was every man for himself.” That kind of thinking kept his heart rate steadily above where it was supposed to be. Every man for himself meant he was truly alone, but that didn’t seem to be the case. At least not today. “Thanks for being so nice.”

#convo: Lyric #Monty #129 #ignore text

[montyduff]

lyricordell​:

.

“I’m from eleven.” she responded, noting his tone. he didn’t seem proud, which made a little sense. but still. “we’re number neighbors. and your mentor, Hestia, says our districts always stick together. that makes us friends, right?”

He offered a smile, but didn’t know whether or not to actually agree. Eleven was often in the same boat as them, yet he couldn’t recall many alliances between their districts. Then again, Flint made their group unpopular for the reason of rooting for the stronger districts instead of their friends, so he could be mistaken. “Sure,” he said, basically his catchphrase. “How do you know Hestia? Has she helped you?”

#convo: Lyric #Monty #129

[montyduff]

lyricordell​:

.

“I like the mixed drinks best.” she offered, although he hadn’t asked. “where are you from? what’ve you had before?” she was here to hang out, to get on his wavelength a little. just because she was mentoring her tributes didn’t mean they’d win, and she’d rather make friends with whoever ended up getting out.

also, every tribute deserved a good drink.

“I’m from Twelve,” he whispered. Monty didn’t want to speak too loud and have someone label him on the spot. It was no secret how poorly the lower districts were viewed, he an extension of that view for simply being born on Twelve’s soil. “I’ll take whatever you think is best. We don’t get the luxury of mixing drinks much.”

#convo: Lyric #Monty #129

[montyduff]

marleybowie​:

.

“You looked deep lost in your thoughts,” Marlene pointed out plainly. She hadn’t been in the wrong to ask such a heavy question, after all. They were all in a heavy situation. “I didn’t realize it was over whether to stuff your face with unheard of sweets or be drunk under the table by a bunch of sponsors you hope to charm. Because I reckon these are about our only options. I, for one, am still exploring.”

It was at the mention when he realized he was a bit peckish. “I guess you could say I’m exploring too. I saw a bunch of food laid out upstairs, but I didn’t think I could take it without permission.” 

#convo: Marlene #Monty #129 #as if i would ever

[montyduff]

marleybowie​:

.

This boy looked lost out of his fucking mind, and Marlene recognized him to be a tribute. She immediately approached. “Contemplating death or murder?” There was a fine line between the two, and she had theorized, in the train, that every tribute was either one or the other, mainly. She just needed to figure out who was which.

Monty’s throat trembled. What kind of question was that, and what kind of answer was he supposed to produce? “Neither?” he asked in a pitch that wasn’t his own. There had been so much talk of death and murder by the wild-looking people on the train television, he was beginning to think everyone in the Capitol liked the idea of dying more than living. “I just don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing right now.”

#convo: Marlene #Monty #129

[montyduff]

lyricordell​:

“you look lost, dude.” Lyric and flick ordell were happy. two new tributes, another year, legal drinking age, and all things. were coming up ordell. still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t happy to continue her semi-tradition of meeting every tribute her age to see if they’d be friends should they both survive the next few weeks. “want a drink?”

He didn’t know how to respond. His eyes wandered to check if she was drinking too, which would make him more inclined to say yes. What he wanted mostly was to get out of the passing crowd and settle somewhere. “I am a little lost,” he admitted. “I’ll take a drink. I don’t know what to get though.” Monty doubted that a place as nice as the Capitol served the same lukewarm stuff the folks back home managed to permanently keep in stock.

#convo: Lyric #monty #129

[montyduff]

The instructions given to him by the trio of mentors were clear enough, but the opposite of what Monty wanted to hear. Being escorted around and told what to do was familiar territory. Dealing with being at someone’s shoulder, human or otherwise, was manageable. Being behind someone was comfortable as long as he could pretend it was Bricks. Hours of idle time before someone would tell him what to do again might as well have been personally crafted agony. He left a little moisture on everything he touched on the twelfth floor, leaking into his palms from a stifled soul. 

Somewhere between deciding to find more people to be around and worrying about where he might end up, Monty looked up from his feet to realize he had no idea where he was.

#monty #129 #ruleandstarter

[montyduff]

#Monty #normal Monty

[montyduff]

margotflint​:

It was too heavy and Margot had never been the strongest. Not weak either, but mostly in the emotional sense. Although, she felt rather weak right then. He’d be fine, he’d have to be fine. Margot didn’t know what to do with herself if he wasn’t. “I don’t care,” she said, stubbornly. “You should- You should’ve just-” She could feel the lump forming in her throat, her bottom lip tremble. No, no no no no no. “Franklin, you’ll be fine,” she said, voice shaking. “Can you help me? Can you- how much does it hurt, where-” The branch was enormous. He must’ve been hurting everywhere. 

He could feel his body shutting down and suddenly the blizzard wasn’t so bad anymore. Either that, or he couldn’t sense it as well anymore. His breaths were short, painful, and made him grunt. His vision was blurry before, now for different reasons related to the amount of oxygen his organs were receiving. His heart rate was slowing, he could sense it. One for every time Margot stopped talking, which she was doing a lot of now.

Like she had what seemed like an eternity earlier despite it only being a moment, Franklin reached for Margot’s hand and squeezed. “Stay alone,” he whimpered. “We can’t afford to trust anyone, not unless they’ve given you good enough reason to. Take everything in my pockets. Make it to the end.” He could feel his reanimated soul desperately trying to leave the new body crafted for him. He would only be able to fight it off for a few seconds more. They didn’t match, his soul and this new body. He was surprised his flesh hadn’t rejected it earlier.

“Get out of this storm...and be safe.” They were the last words he would utter, for certain this time. There was no panic left in him like the way he died during the first quarter quell. Margot was still alive again and he wasn’t sure of what would happen to her, but he saved her for at least a little while longer. His guilt was undone, his debts repaid. Even if she didn’t survive, he gave her the platform to continue on. That’s all he could be thankful for.

#convo: Margot #Franklin #125 #quell: day 6 #adios franklin my friend i hardly knew thee #ina you can reply if you want to!

[montyduff]

margotflint​:

She heard the cracking far too late, and she was pretty sure now that she looked behind her, she could see her future. A scream left her lips at the sight, the wind whipping snow and ice around them blocking the view, but not enough for her not to see. She lunged forward, pushing at the branch. It was giant. How she hadn’t heard and seen it was a mystery to her. If she had, she could’ve just jumped out of the way. It would’ve been fine. They could’ve gone on.

They still could. She shoved at the trunk harder. “Why did you do that?” she asked, panicked. “It’s going to be okay, you hear me? It’ll be okay.”

Franklin didn’t have it in him to scream, nor did he want to. The pain was blinding or sharp, but instead completely engulfing. It was present in every part of him and it was dreadful. “It would’ve landed on you,” he explained, amazed that he was able to speak still. “It’s enormous,” he coughed. Something stirred inside him that was equally as dreadful as the near out-of-body experience he was having. It was something that told him the end was near. 

#convo: Margot #Franklin #125 #quell: day 6