Mistress Dizzy

Poem of the Bladed Nightingale [Skull & Mistress Dizzy]

Jin took her sweet time in the bath, scrubbing away and generally enjoying the time to herself. It was nice to have silence and just one’s own thoughts. Most of said thoughts were about the 5 days ahead of them, and plan after plan for what they needed to do. With the Gods’ blessing, it would be a short and uneventful journey for the three of them. Once she was done, she redressed in a clean robe and headed inside, humming softly to herself.

She noticed Ishawari asleep in the c hair and marveled at how he was staying upright. He could probably sleep standing up if the situation called for it. Jin was not the type of person who could sleep anywhere, unfortunately. It had led to a lot of exhausted nights on uncomfortable patrols. With a little smile, she found a blanket and draped it over him, then slipped into the room to sleep on the mat in the corner. Ishawari’s breathing and the Prince’s tiny snores lulled her off to sleep.

-

“JIN!”

“HELP ME!”

Their house was a sea of flame. Jin could barely see her own face in the smoke and blistering heat. “Prince Hotaru, where are you?!”

She stepped in, the fire searing at her skin and robes. It hurt, but she had to get to the Prince no matter what. He called for her and called for her, but she couldn’t see him. She tried to run through the flames, but it was as if her feet were stuck in place. Why couldn’t she get closer? And where was Ishawari?!

Jin ran and ran, getting nowhere. Eventually she stumbled and fell. She thought it was a beam of wood, but when she turned it over, Ishawari’s lifeless gaze stared back at her. She sunk to her knees, clung to him as if she could bring him back to life with a touch. “No- this is all wrong – I was only gone for a few hours! No, no, no-”

The house creaked around her, and then began to collapse.

“NO!”

-
Jin woke up screaming.

The Hunger Games: Price of Victory

(PMs please, after this.)

"No." I push him out of the bathroom, none too gently. Then I strip down to nothing and step into the shower. As soon as I turn it on, the water is the perfect temperature. Of course it is; why should a Capitolite have to deal with something so trivial as hot water? It makes my head hurt. After playing with the spray settings a bit, I step under the water and scrub myself. The hot water is bliss. I scrub and scrub until I'm clean, maybe cleaner than I've been in my entire life.

Then I sit down on the floor of the shower and begin to cry.

I don't deserve this.

I don't deserve to be here. Why didn't I just die with all the others?

What even matters anymore? I lived, but what's the point of that?

I weep for what feels like forever.

After I'm done, I step out of the shower, drying myself off with a cushy towel, and I dress in the fluffiest, most cozy bathrobe I have ever encountered.

"Sam?" I poke my head out of the bathroom. Maybe he's gone and I can steal one of the beds.

The Hunger Games: Price of Victory

Jetta went richly red at the thought of children. "Nah, I'm not having any." She shot back. "Way too much trouble, and then they get Reaped." Now she'd made herself sad.

"You mentioned a shower?"

Star Wars: A Legend Reborn (Nobodyman123 and Mistress Dizzy)

Kijani curtsied politely, in her dusty and no-longer white dress. “Obi Wan Kenobi. Adam. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” She did not know what a Padawan was, but was too polite to ask in the moment.

“And thank you, Adam, because you have undoubtedly saved my life. I wish I had something I could reward you with.” She smiled, one of those thousand watt smiles that graced holomagazines all over. “But alas, I’m a far way from medals. You see-”

She launched into the tale then. The Empire building a planet killer. Rogue One and their spies pulling off daring and dangerous maneuvering to bring them much needed information. Darth Vader breathing down their collective necks – and then her eventual escape and crash landing. To her credit, she did not cry. Possibly because she was still dehydrated, but she told herself it was due to composure.

She sipped at her tea while she told the tale, finally setting the cup down near the end. “I hate to ask such a favor when you have already been so kind. But I will take you up on the offer of clothing, and perhaps a ride to the nearest ship outpost? I need to get back to Base One, whatever it takes.”

The Hunger Games: Price of Victory

"Thanks." I stepped in and my jaw fell open. The room was huge and just as luxurious as I'd imagined it would be. Plush carpet, beautiful trinkets, gigantic beds...

"Your family gets this whole thing? That's so crazy."

Hopefully Sanctuary

"I have to say, Roxy. I really admire your work." The metal horse was definitely a piece of art that she could tell Roxy had worked hard on. "I can tell you put a lot of love into it." She gently patted the horse's metal side.

Then she sat down near the garage. To say she was nervous would be to state the obvious. But she had her head phones, she had meditated, she had done all the things to make herself prepared for people. The only thing to get her through it was to do it, and see the other side. Who knew human interaction could be so hard?

"God I'm such a wimp. I can't believe I'm actually afraid." She buried her face in her hands, groaning slightly.

Hopefully Sanctuary

Merry Christmas!

The Hunger Games: Price of Victory

"Okay, but you can't touch me unless I ask." I don't know what I was doing. His words felt good, and I just wanted to forget everything. I just wanted to exist.

The elevator dinged at the top floor, and we had to get up. I let him lead the way, having no idea where I was going now.

The Hunger Games: Price of Victory

I kept crying, turning my wet face against his neck. When he kissed my cheek, I startled.

I whispered back, our faces close. "You want to spend the rest of your life with a murderer? Are you crazy?" The floors whooshed by outside. "You don't know me. This isn't really me. This is the prep team and the stylist and make up and a fancy dress that I will never wear again." But wouldn't it be beautiful if he knew what he was getting into and actually loved me?

The Hunger Games: Price of Victory

I'm shocked when I am scooped up in Sam's arms. He's warm and smells like nice cologne. The tears come, then, mascara be damned. I cry into his shoulder, probably getting makeup on his nice suit.

"What if I don't deserve it? What makes me any better?!"