penelopetalon-10-blog

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

She’d been avoiding the medical techs all day, the ones who’d been trying to deliver some new medication for her to try out.  Penelope had taken too many pills to begin with, she’d figured, and the last thing she wanted was more.  So, she aimlessly wandered into a viewing room with a television that wasn’t on, shocked at what the man had greeted her with. “They’re letting you leave?” she asked softly, completely bemused.

Satin was sitting in a viewing room, he’d been thinking about things for awhile, he’s been sketching and designing and thinking. Truth be told, he was tired. When he heard someone walk in, Satin cracked his knuckles, and broke the news of what all his thinking had lead to. 

“I think I’m taking next year off.  Maybe the next two or three.” 

#convo: satin

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

She’d had several injections to subdue her after the death of the sponsor, unable to bear watching the blood pour out of his chest and his lifeless eyes staring out at no one in particular.  Penelope awoke several hours later in her bed, the numbing and calming effects of the medication not quite worn off yet, and wandered to the roof to collect her thoughts.   When another on the roof snapped at her, she dazedly mumbled something incoherent, unaware of how red and puffy her face and how hoarse her throat was from screaming and crying earlier.  “Just came for fresh air.  Fresh air.  Fresh air.”

She hadn’t said much since finding out about the sponsor, speaking only when spoken to and avoiding most people, which is how she came to find herself hidden in a quiet spot on the roof, headphones in to distract her as she rested her head against the tree a little. She closed her eyes, only opening them when she sensed someone nearby. “What?”

#convo: electra

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

“I don’t want to watch,” she mumbled, staring at the child in her arms rather than locking eyes with her.  “No watching.  Watching, watching, watching.” 

Ethita had turned on the television to put on one of Rueben’s shows when the launch was playing. She stared at the screen in horror.

She found herself frozen on the floor with her son before finally snapping out of her shock as someone entered the room. Grabbing the remote and quickly changing the input to Rueben’s programming, she looked up at the guest.

“Sorry but if you’re looking to watch the games you may have to go somewhere else. This guy doesn’t have a nap for a while.”

#convo: ethia #i know the bloodbath is over but hey we can pretend

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

“I’m sorry.  Sorry, sorry sorry.” she mumbled, stepping out of the door frame and keeping her head down.

“Are you quite done yet? Because in case you haven’t noticed you’re blocking the door and I’m not exactly in a position where I can push past you, but I could always run you over if you’re unwilling to move.” 

#convo: luz #have a pen

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

She didn’t have to ask to know what had happened.  When she entered the room and heard the curse, it was a familiar tone that indicated that either a tribute had fallen, or was about to.  Penelope didn’t look at the screen, but she’d guessed that one had fallen.  Approaching the woman, she sat beside her on the sofa, placing a hand on her shoulder consolingly.

“I’m sorry,” she told her, earnestly.  “Are you okay?”

Trixanna had fallen into the pages of her book again, captivated by the story even though she had read the book many times. Her attention was drawn away from the words sprawled across the pages when she heard a buzzing coming from the screen. So the first Gamemaker created event was starting. She closed her book and turned her full attention on the screen. 

Green eyes tried to pic out Milan amongst the changing views of the arena. When the screen finally did shift to Milan it was to show the buzzing insects approaching and biting him. “Fuck.” She muttered just as he fell and the screen shifted elsewhere. She had just told Cress the night before she would do what she could to bring Milan home and here she sat in the viewing room with the sponsor forms yet to have been dropped off. 

#ruleandtask #here have a pen #i'm super excited for her i love the fc #this is short i am sorry

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

“Oh, thank God.” she breathed in relief, thankful that they’d at least survived the bloodbath.  “I thought, I thought that maybe...” she couldn't continue, unwilling to think of what could have happened.

Ana’s eyes flickered to the screen - searching for the maroon color. Eventually she nodded at the mentor. Her tributes had survived the bloodbath.

#convo: ana

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

“I don’t want to look.” she whispered, eyes downcast as if looking at the screen would burn them.  “Just tell me if my tributes are alive.”

#ruleandtask

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

He’d gotten bigger since she saw him last.  Taller as well, quite a bit taller than her, and Penelope wasn’t a short girl.  It’d been years since she saw him, and he’d changed so much from the sixteen year old kid he was when he was Reaped.  But then again, all of the Victors had changed for better or for worse after their Reapings. The scars across his face made her feel uneasy, a tense feeling formed in the pit of her stomach at the sight.  Words didn’t have to be spoken to know that it wasn’t by accident that they formed.  Tentatively, she raised a hand to his cheek and ran her thumb across the marks there.  “You’ve been hurt.” she said gently.  “Are you all right now?”

Colt waited a moment before he could see her face light up at his acknowledgement. He gave a chuckle and stepped forward, wrapping his strong arms around her in a hug, having to bend over slightly to hug her properly. He was much burlier since he last saw her since he started working out a lot more a year and a half ago. His scrawny-ness of when he was a tribute until last year was quite prominent. He had changed that. He was no longer terrified.

“I know,” Colt said, rubbing his mentor’s back before pulling away from her, but her eyes focused on his cheek and he frowned, shaking his head. “Don’ worry ‘bout it. I can s’plain later, okay?”

#convo: colton #my children

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

“There isn’t anywhere that’s safe.” she replied, looking at her with trepidation.  “But especially not here.  Not here, not here, not here.”

She tilted her head to the side a little. “I’m very sorry to hear that. And I know with everything that’s happened lately, it’s hard to think you can be safe here, but you can.”

#convo: aurelia #ai ai ai #snow why

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

“No... no family any more.  Bad things happen here.  Very bad things.  People get hurt and they die, and then they won’t leave me alone.”

Aurelia’s lips parted briefly in surprise, but she managed to keep her small smile on her lips. “I’m sorry to hear that. Why is that? Do you have a lot back home you already miss?”

#convo: aurelia #good thing that aurelia's here bc pen needs help and friends like bad

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

Though she didn’t say anything, she was immensely grateful that he switched the channel to something less horrible than the actual Games, she didn’t know how long she could sit in there hearing the sounds of the Games without having a panic attack.  She’d find out soon enough if her tributes survived the Bloodbath or not.  “Good.  That’s good.  Very good.” she told him earnestly, even though that would mean more competition for her tributes.  But she tried not to think about that.  “Do you know anything of mine?” she asked the other in a small, quivering voice, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

Hearing what the woman said, Kaelen flicked the channel away from the live stream of the Games and onto one where there were people currently analyzing the layout and outfits of the arena. He turned the volume all the way down, not caring what they had to say, but the sight of some Capitol assholes analyzing pictures was probably better than watching the Games. He had the text-based updates application going to his phone and computer, so he at least would be able to keep track that way. He just gave a small nod in response to the woman’s question, not recognizing at first that she was a mentor and had tributes of her own in the arena, too.

#convo: kaelen

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

With no place else to go, and threatened into having to participate in the Games somehow, Penelope wandered into the viewing room staring straight ahead in order to avoid seeing the visuals of the Games in her peripheral.  She sat down onto a sofa and looked over sponsor files and gifts to send to her tributes in the arena.  Her mind wandered to them constantly-- what horrid luck they had, earning her as a mentor.  If she couldn’t do her job, it might as well have been her that killed them.  A lump grew in her throat, and tears pricked her eyes.  “I don’t want to look,” she breathed, barely audible over the sounds of the Games emitting from the television.  “Are your tributes alive?”

Kaelen rubbed at his face a little as his attention shifted between the television screen and the laptop screen. He was already looking through funds to see what could be sent to Hunter and Alice that would help them without breaking the bank, but he wondered sometimes that if he kept his attention off the television for too long he might look back and find he had one less tribute to fret over. When someone else entered the otherwise empty viewing room, he barely glanced back at them before quickly snapping his head back to the screen when he saw a flash of Eight’s color.

#ruleandtask #convo: kaelen #hi!

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

Bank

Task 004 - $100

Task 005 - $100

Task 006 - $100

Total: $300

#ruleandtask

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

Task 004 - If I Knew Then

Took some liberties with this one-- Alternate Universe where Pen isn’t Reaped

The video played, the mayor gave his speech, and then the names were drawn, it was a routine that was perfected to the second over nearly a hundred years of repetition.

It was Penelope’s first Reaping, and she’d been shaking in terror since the week before.  Her grandmother helped her dress the morning of in a light blue frock she’d specially made for the Reaping.  Her nimble fingers had spent more time than necessary doing up her hair, and Penelope didn’t protest.  Not only because she was so afraid she could hardly speak, but because if she was, it’d be the last time she’d ever see her beloved grandmothers.

The children of Ten filed into the town square and all had the same expression as Penelope, even the older ones.  Some of the girls standing beside Penelope held hands white-knuckled.  The boys at the other side of the square fiddled with their collars and sleeves while the speeches commenced, awaiting their fates.  Penelope could only look at her shoes, squeeze her eyes tight, and pray that her family wouldn’t have to suffer another heartbreak, with her mother having passed only a few months prior.  Her father would have to deal with the loss of two of his most beloved girls.

The Escort from the Capitol was dressed in an absurd fashion that she couldn’t see, and her fingers danced around the slips of paper in the glass bowl.  Penelope held her breath.

A name was called that she didn’t recognize, and she sighed out in relief.  Penelope knew she should have sympathized with the girl that was about to be sent to her death, but all she could feel was pure relief spreading throughout her body.  She didn’t even listen to the rest of the Reaping, couldn’t hear the screams of the girl and boy as they were being taken away.   She was safe.

She went home that night and ate in celebration with her family, though nobody talked much through it all.  The girl had died on the first day of the Games, and the boy had made it halfway before meeting his own demise.  

As for Penelope?

She wouldn’t be Reaped for the following five years.  She was safe, and free after the sixth Reaping.  She’d never have to face the horrors of the Hunger Games ever again.  

She tended the ranch alongside her father and housed boarders, tended to her younger siblings and taught the children on the ranch when she had the time.  She married young, at only twenty one, and proceeded to have children of her own, who were safe from the Games as well.  Her and her family would live peacefully ever after.

-

#ruleandtask

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

Task 005 - Trust

“I see them, Papa.”  Penelope whispered under her breath, her eyes growing fearful as she revealed her secret to her father.  Her father was only several feet away from her, washing the dishes, when he stopped abruptly in the middle of his work.  

“What?” he questioned in a low voice, caught off guard by such a statement.

“I can see them.  All of them, every single one of them, Papa.  Not just in my nightmares.  They’re here, now.” she told him, her voice shaking.

PTSD was common in survivors of the Hunger Games, but Penelope’s revelation was of a different sort-- those kinds of things get people taken away and thrown into facilities, they get locked up.  She’d seen it happen before, men in white coats taking away a screaming man off to an asylum somewhere.  He was an older victor, from a Games that her grandparents were too young to remember.  She remembered his screams as clear as day, and she didn’t want that to happen to her.  She refused to let them get to her like that.

But that didn’t stop the nightmares.  It didn’t stop the voices in her head from screaming at all hours of the day, ceasing for nothing.  It didn’t stop visions of them from following her around, seemingly as real and as alive as she was.  She knew if she told anyone, they’d take her away for sure.

It’d been a month since the Games, and the hallucinations had only gotten worse.  And the pressure of keeping that secret from her family, it was eating her up inside.  She couldn’t take holding such a thing in anymore.

Her Papa didn’t want to believe it.  “No.  Penelope... you’re stronger than this, you can’t let it get to you--”

“I can’t control it!” she shrieked, or would have if her voice didn’t break at the beginning of her exclamation, causing the rest of it to come out strangled and cracked.  “I’ve tried everything Papa, but they don’t leave.  I can’t stop it.  I’m losing it, I know, and I know that sort of thing gets people locked up, but I just can’t take it anymore!  Papa... Papa please...” she didn’t know what she was begging him for, hot tears spilling out of her eyes and sobs coming from her chest.  

She crumpled to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.  Her Papa wasn’t there in time to catch her from falling but he got to her after, wrapping his strong arms around her body and holding her close to him, riding out the crying together.  He ran his fingers through her hair and whispered in her ear until the voices in her head stopped their roaring long enough for her to hear her father’s steady voice in her ear.  They remained quiet, all Penelope could hear was the sounds of her sobs and the comforting voice of her father; her crying soon ceased.

They sat there wordlessly for quite a long time, Penelope’s arms wrapped around his neck and his around her torso, until her father’s voice broke the silence.

“We’ll work through this together, no?” he said in his deep, soothing voice, taking his sleeve and wiping it under her eyes to collect the remaining tears.  

“We can get through this.  You’ll be okay, Nell.  We’ll be okay.  Trust me.”

And she did, with all her heart.

#ruleandtask #poor pen

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

Task 006 - Personality

You're sweet, tender and compassionate and strive to serve humanity and to give to others by sharing money, knowledge and experience, or creative and artistic ability. You're idealistic, highly imaginative, intuitive, and spiritual. You seek after spiritual truth and often find it. You tend to be visionary and often inspire others. If you fail to develop your potential, you may become a dreamer, or misuse your power.

#ruleandtask

[penelopetalon-10-blog]

“You’re right.  But it’s bad here.  Very bad.” she said, beginning to realize that this girl was just like her, far too young for the Games.  “They’re tomorrow,” she said, not having to clear up what they were.  “Are you okay?”

“It’s worse out there.” She said shortly. “Bad things happen everywhere.”

#oh my god why must you hurt me #convo: stella #this is her tribute too goddamn