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╣ Bentley Marioth | District 11 ╠
⌠ It always seems impossible...
until it's done. ⌡
I had waken up to the beautiful scene of the sun preparing it's daily greeting to the Capital over the mountains surrounding the large city.
I stood there, forehead against the window in my tank top and boxers over looking the vacant streets become revived by the warming streams of sunlight.
I'll be back here. I promise. I think to myself. If the rejuvenating power of sunlight can drag these citizens out of their homes in the early hours of morning, what can possibly be said to make me believe that these beams of sunlight can't support my will to survive in an arena of 23 other citizens that have yet to rise to their feet?
I take a step back and smile into the reflective glass. Let's get going. Early bird gets the worm. I put on a white t-shirt and some jeans and make my way out of my room, as quiet as possible. No need to wake Venus, or any of the other tributes in that matter. I stand outside of my district's door and wait for the elevator to open it's doors to me. A bell dings and the doors open to an empty elevator. 10 minutes later, a couple lefts, a couple rights, I'm standing in a somewhat cold, dark room, surrounded by a few ceiling lights. A metal table stands in middle of the room; I threw my body up onto the chilly table and lied face up, eyes open. My eyes creep their way onto the clock, showing 3 hours before my departure to the Arena.
Not a moment of shut eye passes between the 2 and a half hours I lied there, completely motionless, in a complete state of relaxation; clear minded. A peacekeeper came into the room on what seemed to be in 30 minute intervals, but I remained motionless. He continued to leave and return.
30 minutes before we, the "valued" contestants in this years Hunger Games, were instructed to enter our launching tubes, my mentor and stylist both entered the room. I sat up on the table, greeted them, and listened to their words. 5 minutes of straight praise and advice went by before I cut in. "Go talk to Venus. She's going to need this more than I will. Thank you both for everything. Make sure you ask her about what I told her in the apartments, she needs to have it plastered in her mind."
I stood up and wrapped my arms around both my mentor and stylist, one after another. "Goodbye. I'll be back soon."
I wanted to make sure they talked to her much longer than they talked to me. I've never felt more comfortable after this morning.
More time passes as I continue to lie face up. A speaker inside of the room begins to play the National Anthem of Panem, I sit up and shift to an attentive state. "5 minutes until launching. You will be reminded one minute before launching as well. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
I sat fists under chin, elbows on my knees and waited for the second reminder. Time passed slowly, but that was probably just a mental gift if anything. "Launching will begin in one minute. Please enter the glass launching tubes located in the southeastern corner of your holding room. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
I gather myself, hopping off of the table. I walk to the tube, turn around, and wait for the metal door that the peacekeeper had previously entered leave my eyes. In a blink, the platform begins to make it's climb to the ground above. Thoughts begin to rush through my head, but I close my eyes. There's no use in worrying. Negative thoughts lead to negative outcomes. I will succeed. I will survive.
⌠ In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different. ⌡
╔═══════════╗
Hunger: 100/100
Thirst: 100/100
╚═══════════╝
⌠ The best way to cheer yourself up is to cheer somebody else up. ⌡
Edit: With the rolled number 9, Bentley Marioth will be choosing:
Large Pack #1
&
Night Vision Glasses/Thick Sweater
until it's done. ⌡
I had waken up to the beautiful scene of the sun preparing it's daily greeting to the Capital over the mountains surrounding the large city.
I stood there, forehead against the window in my tank top and boxers over looking the vacant streets become revived by the warming streams of sunlight.
I'll be back here. I promise. I think to myself. If the rejuvenating power of sunlight can drag these citizens out of their homes in the early hours of morning, what can possibly be said to make me believe that these beams of sunlight can't support my will to survive in an arena of 23 other citizens that have yet to rise to their feet?
I take a step back and smile into the reflective glass. Let's get going. Early bird gets the worm. I put on a white t-shirt and some jeans and make my way out of my room, as quiet as possible. No need to wake Venus, or any of the other tributes in that matter. I stand outside of my district's door and wait for the elevator to open it's doors to me. A bell dings and the doors open to an empty elevator. 10 minutes later, a couple lefts, a couple rights, I'm standing in a somewhat cold, dark room, surrounded by a few ceiling lights. A metal table stands in middle of the room; I threw my body up onto the chilly table and lied face up, eyes open. My eyes creep their way onto the clock, showing 3 hours before my departure to the Arena.
Not a moment of shut eye passes between the 2 and a half hours I lied there, completely motionless, in a complete state of relaxation; clear minded. A peacekeeper came into the room on what seemed to be in 30 minute intervals, but I remained motionless. He continued to leave and return.
30 minutes before we, the "valued" contestants in this years Hunger Games, were instructed to enter our launching tubes, my mentor and stylist both entered the room. I sat up on the table, greeted them, and listened to their words. 5 minutes of straight praise and advice went by before I cut in. "Go talk to Venus. She's going to need this more than I will. Thank you both for everything. Make sure you ask her about what I told her in the apartments, she needs to have it plastered in her mind."
I stood up and wrapped my arms around both my mentor and stylist, one after another. "Goodbye. I'll be back soon."
I wanted to make sure they talked to her much longer than they talked to me. I've never felt more comfortable after this morning.
More time passes as I continue to lie face up. A speaker inside of the room begins to play the National Anthem of Panem, I sit up and shift to an attentive state. "5 minutes until launching. You will be reminded one minute before launching as well. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
I sat fists under chin, elbows on my knees and waited for the second reminder. Time passed slowly, but that was probably just a mental gift if anything. "Launching will begin in one minute. Please enter the glass launching tubes located in the southeastern corner of your holding room. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
I gather myself, hopping off of the table. I walk to the tube, turn around, and wait for the metal door that the peacekeeper had previously entered leave my eyes. In a blink, the platform begins to make it's climb to the ground above. Thoughts begin to rush through my head, but I close my eyes. There's no use in worrying. Negative thoughts lead to negative outcomes. I will succeed. I will survive.
⌠ In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different. ⌡
╔═══════════╗
Hunger: 100/100
Thirst: 100/100
╚═══════════╝
⌠ The best way to cheer yourself up is to cheer somebody else up. ⌡
Edit: With the rolled number 9, Bentley Marioth will be choosing:
Large Pack #1
&
Night Vision Glasses/Thick Sweater
