The Aging Youth {Victors Ales & Cassandra}

[cameo]

Ales Trikru
Victor of the 46th Maze

Every day time is spent together. As though the Maze persists on suffocating the environment, and any second apart could leave vulnerabilities. Fear did not rattles cores, yet we remain as one. Like a pair of lungs maintaining the health of every breath - perhaps a body may survive without both, but it surely would not be nearly as strong. Unfortunately she’s forced to separate to her birth land that was never her home, in obligation to advice the Land’s offsprings, that she’ll still care greatly for, on their journey to the Capitol. A smile still curves my lips in her absence, though it’s induced by a facade.

Even the words of confidence for my Mentees are weak without her, though every mile I breach closer to her side they strengthen. And the moment my feet plummet onto the cruel Capitol’s ground, I feel whole again. The moment that my eyes collapse upon her, I feel happy once more. The moment she returns into the protection my arms, I feel true. By no doubt the amazing vitality of Kassandra does not require the shelter of a man, but it doesn’t feel right if we’re not as one to defend each other.

“This Maze, District Six will finally get it’s second Victor - so that you’ll never have to leave me again.” I assure to her, with a peck of a kiss upon her lips. Even when we pull from the embrace, an arm remains upon her shoulders. “You going to beat me up if I say I missed you?” Is joked while we travel towards the waiting rooms for the opening ceremonies. “Can you believe who the head Maze-Makers are this year?” A slight chuckle seeps from my lips in disbelieve. Difficult to understand why fellow Victors would agree to conducting a nightmare they once endured, perhaps the benefits of survival and wealth just isn’t enough for some.

[Arrow]

Cassandra Crusader
Victor of the 46th Maze Running

    Vibrant vines tethered to tough trees spin and spur through a blur of silver speed. Before long land of life becomes one of bricks and straight stones. Bodies bustle through a busy station sending shipments to various locations while I walk calmly through the chaos. Eyes fall on my figure as I walk parting the sea of piling people, untouchable by even their words of welcome. My name whispers through their weaving words though never grows beyond a subtle sound. To them they see a smooth skinned delicate rose dipped in the red rivers of blood in order to retain eternal beauty. However, they also see the thorns thrusted forth from the scars which have showered my soul. They watched my rise from the salted sea but do not know the beasts which constantly bring about my departure from my land of birth. I rightfully alone rule these spurious streets and blinking buildings, but my past pushes me from my throne. 

    The stay within the the silent shadows of the Victors Village lost within the endless emptiness of my unfurnished home is horrid. Each night is spent with twisted turns and countless hours trailing the solar sewn stars with my restless eyes. Dreams in this dimension only bring back brutality, only strip away the strength which I have rooted in my name. I stand taller than all despite my small stature, yet feel still as though a little girl broken stuffed into the snow. I long for the freedom which flows through my veins by my time tested Knight's side, and for the glorious greens which hue the home he shares so sweetly with me. I am a shining symbol of independence and pure power, but still I find myself lonely and lost within the surge of a sad storm without Ales Trikru by my side. Its still so foreign how I fell from complete coldness to secret warmth towards one. I'm surprised with how shattered the scene of Six makes my soul that my heart ever found a way to beat once more, even if only subtly. 

    Oddity organizes itself in the racing ride towards the Capitol. Despite the supernova of confidence growing with each inch closer to Ales' side, its quite the unique experience being the Mentor of two people far older than yourself. Still, my determination for the survival of at least one of the two set to face two Victors' mourning wrath is exceedingly high. I might find only a hardened heart harrowed by haunting horrors when I think of my birthplace, but still some shard of my scattered soul longs for its success. Hopefully one of their ascensions to sharing my blood stained thrones will allow me to finally fully flee into the bending branches of Ales' full forests. 

    Upon my arrival in the Design Center its mere moments before a secret sense of security takes his shape before me. His eyes still glitter and gleam with the pure passion he's had every since they met, even despite her once cold cruelness. A small smile, larger than for most people, finds itself upon my face as his lips very briefly find my own. "You're still as needy as ever." I say softly in response while adjusting his awkwardly angled coat, he also was one to lack caring for the small aspects of being royalty. His arm as always ends up around me as we walk through the shifting shades of colored Capitolites and towards our designated dressing rooms. His words again bring forth my small smile as I shoot him a sharp joking glare while walking. "Of course. Can't have you getting soft now." A laugh leaves his lips before his next words strike a subject which has been bottled in my mind ever since the shocking announcement. "I believe it, but I doubt they did it willingly. I would have respected them if they had, but lets be honest. Neither of them strike me as the ruthless type. I would have put my money on the twins from Three or Eleven's Snow lover long before betting on them."

[cameo]

Ales Trikru
Victor of the 46th Maze

An attempt for sarcasm brittles my bones, in response to Cass’s claim to not allow me to get soft, though it’s not quite a language I’ve adapted to be fluent in. “I swear I’m not getting soft.” With the hand not draped around her shoulders, one of my boney fingers poke at my gut. “I’ve been doing combat practice with the tribe again, I swear it.” A joke is aimed for, though probably not conquered. Despite the decent muscles tainting my skin, and the leadership placement back at home, the roughness of sarcasm fails to absorb me. A pathetic laugh at my misfortune combs past my tongue, before I direct to completely opposing subject.

If bets were to be placed on the first victor Maze-Makers it’d surely be the twins from three, and that’s precisely two of the three that Cass mentions. Again she never fails to read upon the same page as myself. But for the four Victor siblings to be forced into such a position? Again my free hand is used, though this time is to wash down my face briefly in contemplation. Could we also be threatened into a placement that we don’t wish to possess? Thoughts debate over the matter within my own head, for only a minute to draw my conclusion of uncertainty. Though with the strength of the Capitol, having their way is not too much of a surprise.

“Maybe they did it because they’re not ruthless? We all heard the rumors of how Lail would have killed all of the Runners last Maze if he was permitted… They could have done it to get out the maximum amount of Victors.” A possibility is stated, with the optimism solely Cass can radiate from me. “Would you be a Maze-Maker if asked to be?” Is wondered aloud, while I’m uncertain of my own response to such a request.