Post by night on Jul 29, 2012 6:01:27 GMT -6
i'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time
[/color][/font][/center]IT STARTED WITH A WHISPER
[/size][/color][/center]ifindoutthateverbodytalkseverybodytalkseverybodytalks
[/font][/center][/color] Lansing's voice was quiet, rather raspy, and the baker behind the counter leaned forward and cupped his ear, until she cleared her throat. "Three."[/color] Lansing tapped her index finger, long, skinny, on the glass shielding the small sweetbread rolls from the public. She smiled as the baker put the sweetbread into a brown paper bag and handed them to her as she slapped two coins down onto the counter. Today was a rare and rather glorious occasion: pay day. Normally, Lansing wouldn't splurge on treats like sweetbread rolls, but pay day was a day to celebrate. Besides, Lansing had decided to swing by her mother's house on her way home today, and the woman deserved the treat. Lansing still was considering letting her mother have the extra, the third."Three, please."
She put the small bag in her small leather bag left the shop, flitting through the crowding streets like a quick colorful butterfly, not even needing to shoulder her way through like everyone else in District 10, not with such a small stature paired with such a light pair of feet. These days her mother joked that she would've done well in the Games -- done well, but not won, for girls good at simply hiding and running never won. No, the cruel crazies skilled in everything won, like that Anya, that Anya Weston who had won last time around. Lansing was lucky. Now she was old. Old and safe forever from the Games. Before, her mother never would have dared joke about that. Never. It was all too real then, all too likely that the name Lansing Ainsley might be called out, drawn from the bowl on the stage, written on a tiny piece of paper.
As she walked, Lansing slowed down in front the the big building dedicated to the Mayor and town meetings, the one that hosted all visitors from the Capitol. She came to a stop when she noticed a particularly dressed-up, distinguished, good-looking man, clearly from the Capitol. It was quite obvious she was staring. But Lansing had never been the type to care about what other people thought of her. As she stood there, stunning face conveying nothing but how unsure she was (unsure at what; she didn't know), she heard whispers around her, ones like "...Gamemaker...", "...from the Captiol...", and "...Hunger Games..." among so many obscenities that Lansing figured even a Gamemaker like this man didn't deserve them.
ooc: HAHAHA TIPPY I'VE TRAPPED YOU ALSO NOT A GREAT POST ALSO I JUST WENT AHEAD AND DID THIS WITHOUT THE OKAY ALSO WHATEVZ ALSO SORRY ALSO NO NOT SORRY ALSO KIND OF SORRY KIND OF NOT ALSO OMG I'VE TRAPPED YOU HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]