Mystic Hanemann, 18.
District 1 Female.
The train door slid open in front of Mystic, her last moments in District One spent with little hesitation as she eagerly pushed forward onto the train. She'd trained her whole life for this. There was no turning back.
She was a volunteer now. It almost didn't feel real, the words she'd rehearsed to perfection in her mind leaving her mouth. Presenting herself in front of her District, their eyes all on her was everything she'd always wanted, and Mystic would not have it any other way. The rush of satisfaction as she represented her home, hearing the crowd's roaring cheers for her. It was the kind of thrill she would never let go of, a permanent high which would carry her through the Games.
"Are you just gonna stand there, or?" Chiffon piped up, tapping her on the shoulder.
"Oh, yes, I'm terribly sorry about that," Mystic replied politely, taking further steps into the car. It appeared to be some sort of living room, with large plush couches and tables clustered around a large television screen, bigger than any she'd ever seen before. The walls were coated in a lush cream and purple striped wallpaper, and despite having grown up in one of the wealthiest families in District 1 Mystic had never seen anything quite like it.
"Woah, this is… so nice," Chiffon said, grinning like a kid in a candy shop as he stood in the center of the room turning and taking it all in, "I don't particularly like the purple, but I'm willing to look past that."
"What did purple ever do to you?"
"Existed."
"Oh, I see," Mystic replied, taking a seat in one of the large armchairs, wringing her gloved hands as she watched her District partner. She'd never interacted much with the Shivaan boy, but Mystic had heard plenty about him. He was quite talented, and would likely prove to be a good ally. That was, if Mystic could get him under her thumb, which based on his demeanor, wouldn't be all that hard. She watched as he climbed onto one of the couches, beginning to bounce up and down.
"What are you doing?" Mystic inquired, looking curiously.
"I'm bouncing on a couch, what does it look like I'm doing," Chiffon replied, grinning as the couch creaked beneath his weight. The ceiling was just high enough that his head didn't hit, but if he wasn't careful he'd go head first into the ceiling. This didn't seem to deter him much, though, as he continued bouncing higher and higher.
"You know, you shouldn't do that," Mystic chided, a number of thoughts running through her head. What if their mentors walked in right now? What would they think of them if the first thing they saw was Chiffon jumping on a couch? Mystic didn't know which victors were mentoring this year, but one of them was likely to be their most recent Victor, Elysium Cullinan. The last thing Mystic wanted was to make a bad impression to either of them. After all, mentors controlled all of their sponsors, and if there was no potential in a tribute there was no way they'd spend sponsor money on them.
"Why not?"
"What if the mentors come in? I don't think you want them catching you."
"Oh darling, I'm not worried about that," Chiffon snorted, sending a smirk her way. He was certainly cocky, which wasn't anything she hadn't seen before. As the atmosphere lapsed into silence Mystic thought about what her next move would be until a sharp crack rang out through the train car. She whipped around to see Chiffon, now standing on the floor rather than the couch, one of its wooden legs having snapped.
"Uh oh-" Chiffon started but before he could finish his sentence, a door against the far wall opened, and Mystic turned her head to watch their mentors walk into the room.
"Oh, hello!" Chiffon exclaimed, waving.
"Ah, good afternoon," Sarmiento sighed, running a hand through his trademark purple hair. Mystic was familiar with him, as one of the parts of training was studying how past Victors had won their Games. Sarmiento's were particularly intriguing to Mystic, as he hadn't won through brute force. No, he won his games using his intelligence, which was admirable to Mystic, as she always strived to achieve the perfect middle point between brains and brawn. Mystic had never seen Sarmiento up close, but he looked quite tired, more so than she expected him to be. Perhaps watching your tributes die year after year took its toll eventually. But District One had brought home a Victor just the year before, which Mystic was reminded of as Elysium Cullinan stepped into view.
"How about we all introduce ourselves and get on with things?" Sarmiento sighed, gesturing to a nearby table which conveniently had four chairs cluttered around it. Mystic made her way to the table, taking a seat, the others following suit. It was quite strange being in proximity of people she'd looked up to for so long. Ordinarily she only saw them on her TV screen, or far up high on the stage during reapings, or above in their balconies during evaluations. Mystic had always looked up to them, and now here they were right in front of her face, finally on her level. Once they came off their pedestals, they were living, breathing humans just like Mystic.
"So, uh… now what?" Elysium inquired turning to Sarmiento. He paused, eyes going wide for a moment, Chiffon cutting him off before he could get another word out.
"We introduce ourselves, right? I'll start. I'm Chiffon Shivaan, and I'm here to win, " the young man spoke up, having turned sideways to put his legs over the armrest of his chair, hands behind his head. He looked comfortable, completely at ease despite the circumstances.
"I see… and you?" asked Sarmiento, turning to look at Mystic.
"I'm Mystic. Mystic Hannemann. It's a pleasure to be here," Mystic replied, holding out a hand. Sarmiento shook it, looking mildly confused.
"Gloves? What are those for?" Sarmiento asked as Mystic shook Elysium's hand as well.
"Well, I just like them, I suppose. I do have to wear gauntlets for my sword so I've sort of just gotten used to them over the years," Mystic replied, folding her hands in front of her.
"Yes, your weapon of choice is a great sword right? I wouldn't expect that from somebody of your stature," Sarmiento commented, furrowing his brow as he looked Mystic up and down. She was quite small to be wielding such a large weapon, but it didn't mean she wasn't capable with it. There was a reason she was sitting on that train after all; she didn't get there through pure dumb luck or chance.
"There's plenty that's surprising about me," Mystic replied with a pleasant smile.
"Hannemann? I know that name," Elysium remarked, tapping her fingers on the table, "Isn't your family from Garnet District?"
"Yes, I went to school with you and your siblings for a number of years but I don't think we ever crossed paths. We also trained at the same academy for a few years," Mystic said softly. She'd remembered Elysium and a few of the other Cullinan children from the halls of their academy before she'd been pulled out of public schooling in favour of being tutored at home.
"That's likely; you're a year younger than I am after all," Elysium replied, nodding.
"All this chatting is very nice, but when are we gonna talk about something interesting?" Chiffon interjected, yawning from his spot at the table. Despite seeming friendly, Mystic was beginning to doubt that he really was that stupid; there was something in the way he narrowed his eyes at her that didn't seem right to Mystic.
"Oh yes, we can split off into two groups now," Sarmiento said, shaking his head out slightly as if he'd been drifting off into his thoughts. He didn't seem entirely present, as if his thoughts were elsewhere, though Mystic struggled to think of what might be more important than the tributes he was supposed to mentor Mystic certainly didn't want to risk having somebody like that mentor her.
"Who's going with who?" Elysium asked, raising an eyebrow at Sarmiento.
"I'd like to go with Elysium," Mystic replied quickly before Sarmiento could get a response out.
"That's quite alright, yes. Ellie, just let me know if you need anything okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be alright,"
"You're just gonna leave me with him, come on!" Chiffon exclaimed, draping himself over the chair sideways dramatically.
"I'm not that bad, at least I don't think I am," Sarmiento replied with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"I don't trust anybody who willingly dyes their hair purple."
"What do you mean? What do you have against the colour purple?!"
"Ah, let's get out of here, talk somewhere quieter," Elysium said, leaning over and grabbing Mystic's arm. Mystic nodded, and the two girls stood from the table. As Mystic stood she felt herself swaying slightly, and as she turned to look out the window she realized that the train had started moving without her noticing.
"Pretty weird, isn't it? These things are pretty fast; we'll be at the Capitol by tomorrow night," Elysium said as the two walked from the main car, leaving behind the still-bickering Sarmiento and Chiffon.
"Yeah, I've never seen anything like it," Mystic replied with a polite smile, Ellie nodding in agreement as they stepped into the next car. This one was more of a dining room, with a glossy wooden table ornately carved into shapes of flowers and leaves. It was expensive-looking, even for a family that had money; nothing could compare to the wealth of the Capitol. Elysium continued past the table, heading towards the next door, and Mystic trailed behind, following her lead.
"Where exactly are we going?" Mystic inquired as they passed through another door, this time into a hallway with two doors on either side of it. As they approached the doors, Mystic realized they were labelled, one with her name on the door, and the other with Chiffon's.
"Oh, I'm just particularly fond of this one car. It's just through here, actually." Elysium gestured to the door at the end of the hallway. They passed the doors which Mystic assumed led to their individual quarters. Elysium continued walking, and Mystic followed as they entered another car, this one with bookshelves lining the walls filled with all sorts of books. The smell of old paper emanated strongly from the room. There were a few large chairs clustered around a fireplace which was unlit. The beautiful surroundings only solidified this is real, every moment they grew further from One the more real it became.
"C'mon, lets sit, talk for a bit, see if we can get a plan going," Elysium said with a smile, gesturing to the other seat across from her, and Mystic obliged.
Mystic Hannemann was on top of the world, just where she belonged. This was just the beginning of her takeover.
Dean Karafanda, 18.
District 4 Male.
The door swung shut, the muffled sounds of their escorts footsteps fading away. Dean didn't know his name- or, more correctly, couldn't pronounce it without making a fool of himself and being incredibly offensive to the escort, so he didn't make an attempt.
"Huh...what's his problem?" Dean's mentor, Lexington, asked from the couch nearby.
"I have no clue," replied the other mentor, Cyprus, from her spot leaning against the wall.
"He's new this year, right?" Dean chimed in, as he didn't recognize the escort from years past.
"I think so, yeah," Lexington scratched his head, "I can never remember to be quite honest, they get moved around so often."
"Maybe you're just old," Cyprus replied, shooting a grin at her fellow victor. It was quite strange to see the Victors which the academies had put on pedestals as idols, people to be revered and looked up to, but Dean had never really understood how truly human they were. They were imperfect, despite being Victors who had done things to win their Games that most people couldn't even fathom.
"So what are we doing now?" Tarni asked, cutting through the still bickering mentors. They both turned to look at his District partner, who was standing nearby, leaning against the wall. Dean knew who she was- after all her reputation preceded her, and because of it he didn't trust her. He didn't doubt she was talented, after all Tarni was here for a reason, but just because they both originated from Four didn't necessarily mean they had to trust one another.
After all, trust was earned, and Tarni had done nothing but give Dean reason not to.
"Well, the recaps should be airing soon, we can take a look at those if you'd like," Lexington said, turning to the TV nearby.
"Getting a look at the competition isn't a bad idea," Cyprus agreed, taking a seat on one of the chairs nearby.
"Did you just agree with me?" Lexington exclaimed, sitting up straighter in his seat.
"I don't know, did I?"
"You totally just did!"
"You can't prove it."
"There's literally two witnesses in the room," Lexington said, gesturing wildly towards Tarni and then Dean.
"She didn't agree with you," Tarni joined in with a grin, clambering to take a seat as Lexington switched the TV on.
"No, she did," Dean replied, taking his seat as well, "We both heard it."
"Yeah, yeah, you're no fun, you know that?" Tarni rolling her eyes at Dean.
"No fun? I can have fun just fine," Dean replied, raising an eyebrow. He'd never quite understood people like Tarni, who got their amusement out of such trivial and mean things. Dean had gotten enough fun out of training, and playing basketball, so what was the use being nasty to people who'd done nothing to him?
"Yeah, sure, I'll believe it when I see it."
"Shut up, I found the right channel," Lexington snapped, turning up the volume. An unfamiliar town square flashed across the screen. It was packed with people, shoulder to shoulder in the pens for each age group. Dean realized it was District One, as he recognized the most recent Victor, Elysium Cullinan seated on the stage.
"District One looks strong this year," Cyprus said, gesturing to the two tributes which were now on the screen. The boy, Chiffon, looked incredibly cocky and amused about the whole situation, but Dean didn't know why. He always figured volunteering was the biggest honor one could achieve, and anybody who didn't take it seriously shouldn't be eligible, but there was something behind his eyes that made Dean think there was something more to him.
"You think so?" Dean asked, turning to look at Cyprus.
"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised, both of them are projected to do well based on what the Capitol is saying so far," Cyprus shrugged, "I wouldn't be surprised to see either of them go far."
"They'll be good allies too. District One is very popular right now, so you two should make an effort to align yourselves with them," Lexington nodded.
"That makes sense," Dean nodded as the screen shifted on to what he assumed was District Two. It was stark and grey, and compared to the crowds in District One, this one was surprisingly sparse, as if the people were all avoiding one another. The boy, Reign, looked pretty typical for a Career. Dean didn't think much of his stoic demeanor, but the girl seemed curious. There was a great deal of commotion surrounding her as she pushed through the crowd; perhaps she was a rogue volunteer, or something of the like. It was surprising to see any volunteers out of Two though, as it'd been a good few years since a seemingly strong pair came out of their fellow Career District. District Three was strangely enough also filled with a pair of volunteers- neither looked like much. One was a younger boy with anger in his eyes, the other was a tall and seemingly-collected girl. Dean's fingers traced the shapes of raised scars on his arm as his own face presented itself on the screen. He couldn't help but notice the look in his own eyes reflecting back from the screen, scared and unsure. Dean should've made a stronger impression. He should've held himself higher.
Dean couldn't afford to seem weak. He was supposed to be a leader, and if the other Careers couldn't take him seriously, then he would never get the control he so desperately needed to win.
"What do you think of all these outer District volunteers?" Lexington asked, turning to Dean. During his moment of thought, they'd made it all the way to District Seven, the lithe girl with haunting eyes, and the giant of a boy looming over much of the rest of the crowd.
"Well, it could mean two things, lots of stupid people, or lots of threats," Dean replied with a shrug, "But, we have two District Two volunteers, which means we'll likely have a full pack."
"That's right, yes, hopefully you two will be working closely with the Ones and Twos," Lexington nodded.
"What if we don't, though?" Tarni chimed in.
"Huh, well it'll leave you susceptible to attacks from the other trained kids, or the stronger outer kids. You're also less likely to get supplies from the Cornucopia, but it can be a good strategy depending on the circumstances," Cyprus shrugged, "Why, are you considering it?"
"I suppose I'm willing to entertain the option." Tarni grinned. "I'm not here to lose, after all."
"Nobody is. We should see what the others are like before either of us make any decisions of that sort," Dean said. His feelings of mistrust for Tarni were only increased by her apparent willingness to dismiss the others before they even got a chance to meet. He couldn't afford to blindly trust somebody like that, especially not if she decided to betray them, or strike up a deal with another group of tributes. Any which way it went, Dean had to be prepared, and if that meant holding his own District partner at arms length, then that was what he would do.
"Dean's right, you should hold your judgement until you meet the others," Lexington nodded, "You're a smart one, I see why they picked you."
"Thanks?"
"No problem," Lexington replied, reaching across the couch to pat Dean on the shoulder. He recoiled slightly from the unfamiliar touch, not exactly welcome in an already incredibly-overwhelming environment. The train, all the ambient noise created by it, all the strange sounds and smells, causing his head to spin. It was all just… so different from the usual, simple life he lived.
But he was a tribute now, and there was no going back. At least no going back through easy means.
"You alright? You look awfully pale," Cyprus said, her brow creasing with concern and worry.
"I'm okay yeah, my head just hurts. I think I might go and lay down for a bit," Dean mumbled, rubbing his eyes as the sheer weight of his actions and situation came crashing down on him all at once, pressing down on his mind and body.
"Good idea, you go now. If you need anything just let somebody know, alright?" Lexington said with a smile. Dean dragged himself to his feet, plodding out of the common room towards his bedroom, every movement like dragging himself through thick molasses.
Dean was tired, plain and simple, and he wasn't likely to catch a break anytime soon.
Terra Kiana Quinones, 15.
District 5 Female.
Terra had been terrified many times in her life. In fact, she'd lived the better part of fifteen years in fear, not only for herself, but for those around her, like Leah, who helped her. However, few things quite compared to this. Terra didn't know what to do as she sat in the middle of a train, rocketing towards the Capitol surrounded by Avoxes and Peacekeepers - everything she'd worked so hard to avoid.
But she was here, and Leah wasn't, and that fact brought her some small peace of mind. At least the Capitol couldn't hurt those around her any longer, even though they'd tried. Leah had been the one to save her, and Terra paid her back in turn with her life.
At least it wasn't Leah. Terra would be strong, just like she always had been.
"Where the hell is he?" Orli muttered, squinting at the watch on her wrist, "He's late again. I don't know why I expect him to be reliable."
"Who?" Pluto spoke up from his corner of the table, looking concerned. "Is something wrong?"
"How can I be late if I'm on the train?" another voice spoke, startling Terra. A young man, no older than Pluto, slid into the chair across from her, hands clasped on the table before him.
"Well, you have to come out of your room and actually mentor," Oril said, rolling her eyes. "At least you're here now, though."
"I don't see the point in that, but if you say so," Revan sighed, looking to Pluto, then to Terra, his dark eyes staring into her soul. He was familiar, but she couldn't quite remember why. Being unable to place his face only made Terra feel worse- even her mind, something she was proud of, was failing her.
"I do say so, you know I'm the reason you're-"
"No, I'm the reason I'm here," Revan snapped. Terra ducked her head, as the Victors argued. She knew they could be dysfunctional, but she didn't think it could be this bad. "Don't get any ideas in your head, Orli; those are dangerous. I just want to know what these two are capable of."
As the mentors bickered, Terra realized where she knew the man's face from. She'd seen him leading that group of Peacekeepers just a few weeks prior. And if Revan was leading Peacekeepers, that meant he likely was one; that, or he was working with them. Terra's chest tightened, her heart pounding in her chest, her body desperately pleading to escape. Maybe the Peacekeepers were trying to collect more information on her, trying to find out more of the people that had helped her. She didn't know why- to hurt them, or capture them just like they'd used Leah to bait her out.
"So I've got you, right?" Revan asked, pointing to Terra. She shook her head slightly, feeling herself shrink into her chair as she looked to Orli. She didn't trust the other mentor, but at least Orli wasn't a known associate of the Peacekeepers. Orli was motherly and caring, and while Terra wanted to like her, she just couldn't bring herself to. No, everybody who got close to her suffered a terrible fate, and she couldn't let Orli be one of them. Still, at least Orli was a better option than Revan.
"Ah, no, you're going with him," Orli replied, gesturing to Pluto and giving a sharpt nod to Terra.
"I'm Pluto," said the boy, holding his hand out across the table. "Do I…know you?"
"Yeah, weren't you that kid who tripped in the factory?" asked Revan, raising an eyebrow. "You can't be clumsy like that in the arena; it'll get you killed."
"I know, I've just always been like-" Pluto was cut off by the sound of glass, shattering against the tile floor beneath them, the mug once in his hand now in shards across the floor.
"We'll…work on it then." Revan grinned, waving a nearby avox over, "Let's go talk somewhere else, okay?"
With that, the two boys departed, leaving Orli, Terra and the Avox who was cleaning the remaining shards of glass.
"What was that about?" Orli asked, leaning forwards onto her hand. "You looked like a deer in headlights, what's wrong?"
"It's…it's complicated," Terra replied, her voice shaking with the weight of her overwhelming desperation. "It's fine, really."
"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to but I'm here if you need anything, okay?" Orli nodded, the lines at the corners of her eyes creasing.
"O-okay, thank you?" Terra shuddered. "Would it be okay if I went back to my room for a little bit? I'm quite tired."
Orli nodded, waving her hand as if dismissing Terra. She hopped out of her seat, scurrying to the nearby door, pushing onwards to her room pushing the door closed behind her. This was supposed to be her room, her home, but it wasn't really home. It didn't feel right, standing out against the rigid schedule she'd set out for herself. But that schedule didn't account for things like volunteering for the Games, or having to stay in a room that was likely bugged. Terra wouldn't be surprised if the Capitol was watching her right now, in fact, but she'd already combed through the room to find no indication of any devices planted for spying.
Terra just wanted to feel safe. She wanted to be somewhere she wasn't constantly running, constantly looking over her shoulder for those who killed her family. They were back for her; that's why they had targeted Leah, who'd done nothing wrong except help Terra.
Everyone who came in contact with Terra was killed or put in danger because of her. She just wanted it to be over, she just wanted to rest and not have to worry about what her very existence would do to those kind enough to help her.
Terra just wanted everything to be put to rest. She just wanted to be put to rest. And respite would come sooner or later.
Diesel Malstrom, 18.
District 6 Male.
Diesel sat on the couch, bringing his knees up to his chest, chin resting on the top of his curled-up legs. How did he manage to get himself here? Why did he feel the need to volunteer? But Diesel knew why when his gaze turned to the girl who sat nearby.
Verity Blanche, in the flesh. She was sitting right before him, living, breathing, and solidly real. Diesel almost couldn't believe it; after all those years of wishing she was really here, he was convinced it wasn't true.
But was it a dream, or a nightmare? She was right there in front of him, but at what cost? The cost would be his life, but in the end that was worth it if only to see her again for a moment. Even if the moment was fleeting, it was a moment, and that was all Diesel could ask for.
"What're you looking at?" Verity asked, looking up from her book at him. She gripped a pen between her fingers, seemingly writing in the book as she flipped through the pages.
"Oh, um I'm just...uh...watching TV?" Diesel stuttered out, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He didn't particularly enjoy the clothing provided; he missed his familiar jumpsuits. He missed everything about Six in fact, especially his job and visiting the hospital. But there was no going back now; Diesel had made his decision and now he had to live with it.
And if need be, he would die with it, too.
"Oh yeah? What's on?" Verity inquired, closing the book in her hands and leaning forward to squint at the television before them. Diesel didn't actually know what was happening on the screen; he'd tuned it out a while ago.
"I don't really get it. It's some Capitol show, I think." Diesel shrugged, wringing his hands in his lap. It was strange talking to her; he'd imagined hundreds of ways their conversations could go, but this was not one of the expected routes. It was hard enough talking to people as is, but being face-to-face with her just increased his anxiety tenfold. Diesel didn't even know if Verity remembered him. At least she didn't seem to- it only proved to him how alone in life he was. Diesel knew if he died in that arena that nobody would miss him. There would be nobody to mourn him. Nobody would truly miss him.
"Oh hey, that's neat. I've been meaning to ask you, why exactly did you volunteer?" Verity asked, leaning forward on her elbows eagerly awaiting his answer. Diesel's mind went completely blank...what was he supposed to say? Should he just tell her the truth? Or should he make something up?
"Oh- um...ell.." Diesel stammered, unable to formulate any semblance of a response to such a question.
"Wait a minute, I know who you are!" Verity yelped, hopping to her feet. "You're Diesel! You're the same Diesel. It's you! What the-"
"Hold on you...remember me?"
"Of course I do, how could I forget you!" Verity exclaimed, moving to sit next to him on the couch.
"But I thought you - how did you remember me?" Diesel sputteredHe didn't think he could truly make such an impact on anybody, much less on somebody who he'd only known for a few hours at most.
"Well you're a memorable guy. I was trying to look for you but...I could never find you." Verity smiled that smile he'd spent so long wishing to to see again for so long. She was looking for him. For all those years, she was looking for Diesel.
Maybe there was somebody who loved him after all.
"I don't really know what to say," Diesel mumbled, scratching the right side of his face nervously. He could feel his face flushing somewhat, heat rising in his chest.
"It's okay, I have no clue what the hell is going on either," Verity replied. "But we're in it together, right?"
"Well yeah, I guess, if you want to be." Diesel shrugged.
"It's all I could ask for," Verity laughed, taking his hand in hers. "I have so many questions for you, you know?"
"Oh, okay, yeah." Diesel stumbled over his words, only able to think about the fact she was holding his hand. Her hand was small compared to his, warm and smooth. He felt the urge to pull back, to pull away from her but he couldn't manage to bring himself to do it. With every moment that passed, Diesel was more convinced this was nothing but a dream.
A dream he never hoped to wake from, lest it turn to a nightmare.
"But not here," Verity whispered harshly, squinting around the room.
"Why not?"
"Well, I'd like to explore the train, there's lots of different rooms and stuff that seem interesting." Verity turned to Diesel with a smile. "Wanna come with me?"
"Of course, I would love to," Diesel replied with a nervous smile of his own. Verity bounced to her feet, Diesel following as she continued gripping his hand tightly, never letting go, not that Diesel wanted her to. He didn't expect the shorter girl to walk so fast, but she quickly beelined to the nearby door. He stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet, trying to keep up with her.
"I already found a little library thing; that's where I got that book," Verity crowed triumphantly, pushing the door to the next car open with her free hand. Diesel nodded as the pair made their way forward together. He'd already been to this one, as it was where their rooms were, a door on each side of the long hallway. Verity pressed onwards, Diesel falling into step next to her as they arrived at a door Diesel hadn't yet ventured through.
"So you never answered my question," Verity said, pushing through the door.
"About…why I volunteered?"
"Yeah."
'Well...I guess it was for you, sort of."
Diesel had never expected to get to this point, and he didn't know what to do with himself now that he had. It felt good, but still the reality of putting his life on the line was hitting him like a tonne of bricks.
"For me? You volunteered for me?"
"Um..I guess, yeah. I heard your name get called and I just…had to. I can't explain it." Diesel didn't know how she'd react to this- He didn't know how he'd react if somebody told him the same. But he hoped it wouldn't be a bad reaction. Diesel just hoped he hadn't ruined everything before he got the chance to make things right.
"Diesel, that's stupid as fuck! Why would you throw your life away like that?!" Verity exclaimed, the utterance of such language catching Diesel off guard - but then again, all she did was surprise him. He found himself unable to find an answer to the question; there was no way to explain it using words, so he found himself giving a simple shrug in response.
Diesel didn't know why he was there or what had compelled him to volunteer. After all, fate was a cruel mistress, and neither he nor Verity were safe from her clutches.
"Really though, I'm thankful to see you again but...you shouldn't be here." Verity paused, taking his other hand in hers, looking up at him. He froze beneath her touch, unfamiliar at first, as it'd been a long time since he'd been touched in an affectionate manner. But it was nice- Verity was nice, and that was enough for him.
"Well...um...I'm here, and I can't go back." Diesel stumbled over his words, avoiding her eyes and pulling his hands back. They'd been reunited for a matter of minutes, and he was already fucking it up. Of course he was, that was all he did- fuck things up. He couldn't do anything right in life.
Diesel was no mechanic. He didn't fix things; everywhere he went, things broke.
"I know. It's okay, though. We're in this together, like I said." Verity offered her hand out to him. "Partners in crime?"
"Yeah...partners," Diesel replied, shaking her hand firmly. She quickly grabbed his hand intertwining her fingers with his before Diesel could realize what was happening.
"Okay, let's go explore, I wanna see the rest of this place!" Verity turned and bounced off, giving Diesel no chance but to follow with a quiet laugh.
Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all. Just these few moments were worth Diesel's life a thousand times over.
