Panem Events (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thearena2015-11-30 05:03 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thearena2015-11-30 05:03 pm
Entry tags:
Deep in the meadow, under the willow...
Who| All those on the liberation mission and all those being made to fight against them.
What| The liberation of District 12.
Where| District 12.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.
It doesn't take long to get to District 12, the closest district to the rebel district. It's one of the smallest districts, and you only know you reach it when rolling hills grow and grow until they become large, fertile green mountains. The environment looks green and lush, beautiful, really--That is, until you reach the part of the District where people actually live. The weather is chillier than the Capitol, though the wind bares the worst of it. Anyone planning on spending any time outside should definitely get a coat.
The town is smaller than any of the others, and more worn down. Everything seems to have a thin layer of cole settled over it, no matter how much cleaning is done. The center of the town isn't too shabby, and there are a few things that stand new and shining--A metal whipping post and stocks. The latter occasionally has an unfortunate person in it, though most people have learned to buckle down and accept the new rules.
In the merchant part of town, there's some signs of wildlife, knobby trees and green enough yards. The merchants used to ply their trades here, though for now, everything's locked down. As you get farther, it gets shabbier, poorer. Into the Seam, where the poorest of the poor live. Here, the houses are barely more than shacks. Trees grow wild, and what animal life exists is quick to run from any humans, no doubt having survived at least one attempt by the people of the Seam to capture them for the supper pot.
One thing in common with all the sections of the District is a feeling of hopelessness. The mood is dour, as heavy and permanent as the cole dust that seeps into everything. The only sign of anything even resembling any rebellion is a few chalk scratchings on the sides of abandoned buildings, a few zodiac symbols--Anyone who knows the trolls can recognize the symbols of Karkat, Terezi, Psiioniic, and even the Initiate. That, and the grand pictures of Sam Wilson and Joan Watson, and the bold words stating NOT ALONE and WE ALL DESERVE BETTER.
The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.
What| The liberation of District 12.
Where| District 12.
When| This week.
Warnings/Notes| War, violence, death. Please warn for more in headers.
It doesn't take long to get to District 12, the closest district to the rebel district. It's one of the smallest districts, and you only know you reach it when rolling hills grow and grow until they become large, fertile green mountains. The environment looks green and lush, beautiful, really--That is, until you reach the part of the District where people actually live. The weather is chillier than the Capitol, though the wind bares the worst of it. Anyone planning on spending any time outside should definitely get a coat.
The town is smaller than any of the others, and more worn down. Everything seems to have a thin layer of cole settled over it, no matter how much cleaning is done. The center of the town isn't too shabby, and there are a few things that stand new and shining--A metal whipping post and stocks. The latter occasionally has an unfortunate person in it, though most people have learned to buckle down and accept the new rules.
In the merchant part of town, there's some signs of wildlife, knobby trees and green enough yards. The merchants used to ply their trades here, though for now, everything's locked down. As you get farther, it gets shabbier, poorer. Into the Seam, where the poorest of the poor live. Here, the houses are barely more than shacks. Trees grow wild, and what animal life exists is quick to run from any humans, no doubt having survived at least one attempt by the people of the Seam to capture them for the supper pot.
One thing in common with all the sections of the District is a feeling of hopelessness. The mood is dour, as heavy and permanent as the cole dust that seeps into everything. The only sign of anything even resembling any rebellion is a few chalk scratchings on the sides of abandoned buildings, a few zodiac symbols--Anyone who knows the trolls can recognize the symbols of Karkat, Terezi, Psiioniic, and even the Initiate. That, and the grand pictures of Sam Wilson and Joan Watson, and the bold words stating NOT ALONE and WE ALL DESERVE BETTER.
The war continues, and in the back of everyone's mind is a familiar phrase; may the odds be ever in your favor.
no subject
But he feels better enough when Sam doesn't go back out and instead stays nearby, always within sight, and it's that much easier to stay in his working mindset. Right now he had to be a rebel leader, later he could be the overprotective lover.
But that mode doesn't break easily, even once they're back in their room and the door is closed, there's still reports to compile and run and there's so many numbers, so many names on so many lists. Injuries, casualties, captures. It's cacophonous in his head until Sam's quiet suggestion cuts through it all like a knife. Then it's only so much background noise in the face of something much more important: the man with him.
The tablet is left on his desk as he stands and crosses to Sam, standing between him and the door. He should let his friend go and blow off steam, all those names on so many lists and the important ones hadn't escaped his notice. But he couldn't.
Or, rather, he didn't want to.
Silently, Bucky's hands came up to gently cup behind Sam's head and pull it down to rest on Bucky's shoulder so he could curl his arms around Sam's shoulders and back. He held him close and so tight, it might seem as though he was trying to push them into one person where they touched.
"I'm sorry."
They hadn't been his friends but he liked Terezi and James...well, that was more complicated, but the idea the Capitol had him still tore into Bucky's insides. He could only imagine how much worse it was for Sam who'd cared for them ten times as much.
He only wished he could offer more than just this.
no subject
He doesn't want to be held, to be with one of the few people that he feels safe enough with to fall apart on, because he knows that's what he's gonna do. And he doesn't want to, he just wants to hit something until it hurts, until the throb of bruised knuckles matches the pain that doesn't show.
But Bucky's reaching for him, and there's nothing in Sam that's ever going to be able to turn away when he's got this man standing in front of him. Unbidden, Sam's arms slide up to wrap around Bucky's back. It's gentle at first, almost cautious, but then Bucky says I'm sorry and Sam breaks.
His hands clutch at Bucky's shirt, fingers tangling tight in the fabric as he pulls Bucky in, face buried in Bucky's neck. He’s not crying, but his chest catches anyway, and he clings to Bucky desperately, holding on like he's never gonna let go.
no subject
One of his arms still curled tightly around Sam's back, but the other came up to gently stroke at the back of his head. Bucky's mind ran back to the last time Sam had been in a pain like this. Back then, they'd been separated by miles with only a screen and text to talk. Now he could actually offer comfort and he still felt helpless to do anything. He couldn't pull strings and fix this.
"Tell me...what can I do for you?"
no subject
Not that Sam's making it all that easy for Bucky to leave, even if he wanted to, given the way he's hanging onto him, but still. For all that just a few minutes ago Sam had been thinking that he didn't want to be comforted like this, now that he's got it, he's not willing to let Bucky go.
"She's my sister," he says, helplessly, unwilling to use the past tense. "And Initiate-"
He cuts off, because he doesn't know where to even begin. Kurloz had lost himself big time, and Sam's gonna do the best he can but... but Kurloz had had 'I can't live without you' and then he lost it and Sam knows exactly how hard that is to come back from. Even at his worst, Sam had never been as intense as Kurloz, but he still knows damn well what it's like losing yourself a little.
And now he's looking at Bucky and - and it terrifies the shit out of him, and he is so damn screwed, because the only thing he can think is 'I can't do this without you.'
He doesn't realize he said that part outloud.
no subject
His hold became more protective, more encompassing if he could. He just wanted Sam to feel safe, even though Bucky couldn't make him feel whole again. He knew how he'd feel if he lost Rachel, Sarah or little Becky. He didn't even think he could be as strong as Sam was now. This was the least he could do.
But Sam's last words send a lance through him. It was war, he couldn't promise not to die. But that didn't matter right now. A lie was what they needed.
"You won't have to. I'm always going to be here for you, Sam, as long as you need me I'll never leave you alone." He didn't realize he wasn't meant to hear that, so he answered. He'd tell Sam the sky had turned purple if it would make him feel better even for a little while.
It would be better than offering empty apologies that fixed nothing and helped even less.
no subject
Maybe he should have more of a reason than ever not to be soothed by a promise like that, when he'd just saw the outcome of that kind of thinking, but fuck that. Right now he's gonna cling to it, like Bucky was answering his thoughts.
It's only then that it hits him that he'd actually said that he was thinking, that Bucky isn't just spontaneously promising him things. Shit.
"Buck..." he starts, then swallows and looks away, shaking his head. "This is a shitty time to be doing this." But he's talking to himself more than anything else, suddenly annoyed with himself that for all the times he'd thought about having this conversation with Bucky, he never had. And now it's gonna be here, when he's already in way too deep, when he'd just lost his sister and damn near lost his brother because of that.
"I told you about Riley, about not being able to find a good enough reason to keep going after he was gone. The thing is - you're part of my reason, a real damn big part. Without you, I..."
no subject
Bucky brought his hand up to his boyfriend's cheek to make sure he had Sam's attention. "It...it hasn't exactly been very long for us, not even counting when we first met, but I don't think I could find any kind of spark again if I lost you. You are my spark." He smirked, amusement nearly turning it into a full smile. "You've infected me, so much so that I feel and say things to you I've never wanted to say to anyone. I promise I'll do everything I possibly can to get us both through this." Now he did smile. "You haven't even met the family yet, there's some District 10 courting customs you'll need to see to, you know."
no subject
There's a pause as he just looks at Bucky, knowing that the way he feels right now, that just how damn much he loves Bucky is written all over his face, but he doesn't bother to hide it. It's all he can do not to say it, to lean in and murmur 'I love you,' in Bucky's ear, but he holds himself back.
Bucky making him smile or not, there's still a hollow of grief in his heart, the kind that doesn't lend itself well to making love confessions. He doesn't want Bucky to think he's just saying it because of the desperation burning in his chest. And he's already dropped enough on Bucky right there. If you go you're gonna take damn near all of me with you never ends will, and last time it'd damn near done Sam in. He's honestly not sure he could make it out on the other side if it happened again - but it's too late. He's already there, and he's not sure if it's better or worse that Bucky's right there with him.
There's only four people left in Sam's life that haven't died on him, one way or another, and just because he knows there's no guarantee of that moving forward doesn't mean he's not already in too deep.
But it's easier to forget that when Bucky smiles at him, when he makes jokes about courting customs and meeting the family. Maybe Bucky's teasing, but the idea still brings a little bit of warmth.
"Yeah? You gonna show me some of them, or leave me hanging?"
no subject
"Well, let's see." He takes on a thoughtful look, calling on old memories to paint a clear picture. "Things always get a little muddy when it's two guys or two girls, cause there's traditions for each gender, so instead of new customs or doing just the ones for your gender, you've got to do both to prove you're a good match who'll take care of each other. So, you've got to prove you can work, so the father of the courtee's got to check the courter's hands, make sure they're strong.
"My father died years ago, so so my mother would do it instead. She'd also check to make sure you could cook a decent meal and she'd check that you're strong enough to wrangle a horse, yet gentle enough to calm a kitten. She'd measure your ability to make a home and keep it through whatever test she came up with and, all the while, she'd be checking how you reacted to make sure you aren't the violent or cruel sort."
Bucky smirked and eyed Sam for his reaction. "There'd also usually be an expectation of flowers, for me, but also for her and any other girl in my household and since I've got three sisters, that'd be everyone else. If she approved of the match, she'd write up a contract for you to sign that basically amounts to 'We solemnly swear to protect and care for each other no matter the obstacle.' This is all just to enter a long-term courtship, if you believe it, getting married's actually easier than all that in my district. It's why most people are okay with 'testing the waters' and playing around first, it's a lot less 'hassle.'" Bucky's playful look grew a little brighter, hoping to shine some light in for Sam like he did so often for Bucky. "So how about it, city boy, scared off yet?"
no subject
But he can be distracted from it, and if there's one thing that Bucky's really good at being for him, it's a distraction. Sam's eyes are suspiciously shiny as he watches Bucky talk, rambling the way Sam knows he's done himself - and for a moment, all he can do is thank God for Bucky Barnes. Whatever he did to be blessed with this man, he's not sure, but he's gonna run with it.
Besides, he has to admit that it's interesting to hear, when he talks about traditions for each gender and combining them for same-gendered couples; so different from back home. He's gotta say that's one of the things he loves most about Panem, that he's never felt like he had to be careful who he flirted with or keep that part of him hidden like he had for so long.
And when Bucky shoots that playful look at him, how the hell else is he supposed to do anything but grin back? "Ain't nothing in this world or any other that'd be enough to scare me off you, farm boy."
It comes out more serious than he'd meant it to, so he follows it up by pulling back a little, taking Bucky's hand to press a kiss against his knuckles. "So what're your favorite flowers, huh? Guess I better get to gathering."
no subject
'Flowers' are harder to come by when most of them end up in Capitol hands, but I got some favorites...they're pretty easy to find, at least, since they're just wildflowers. Ever heard of poppy mallow and jimson weed? You go out on one of the plains back home and they make up some of the nicest ground cover the district's got. I'll show it to you sometime. What about you? You got a favorite flower from back home? Or, on a different line of thought, a favorite food you miss?"
no subject
"I wasn't much of a gardener, so yeah, I'd appreciate that. Gotta be prepared for if you ever do end up taking me back home." He's never really thought about his favorite flowers - the closest he's probably come to it is trying to have a little herb garden on his windowsill, or growing one of those upside down tomato plant holders in his kitchen. Food, though, that he can do. "Give me a nice steak, perfectly cooked, some roasted potatoes and onions and peppers, top it off with a good red, I'm sold."
He quirks a little smile. "A good bottle of wine makes everything. Back home, I always had a pretty good variety in the wine fridge. Used to save the corks of my favorites, I had a glass bowl I kept 'em in."
no subject
"Never had much wine, but steak I can do." He knew how to turn an old, tough cow's meat into something delectable and juicy. The ranchers rarely got to have their own product, only when an animal died of old age or had some other defeat the Capitol deemed 'not good enough for consumption' was it left to the districters to have. Bucky had made do so that those rare times were moments to savor.
"Some day, I'll make that happen here, I'll find you some wine and cook you up the best steak dinner you've ever had." It seemed impossible right now when most of their meals were glorified gray mush, but he made it a goal for himself all the same. See their way out of this war, he'd make them a date night to remember.