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III. Nerve
❝So much more
was said in
the unsaid.❞
― Bridgette Devoue.
― ⛓♆†⚔️༄🌊...
AS SOON AS THALIA STEPPED FOOT ONTO THE TRAIN, she'd wanted to get back off of it ― she'd wanted to be anywhere but here ― and found herself (even though she knew full well that it was a death sentence, and nothing more than that) becoming more and more eager to reach The Capitol. That ― the knowing of what's going to happen in the weeks ahead of her ― is what makes the misleading front that the train projects so much worse, and so much more gruelling. What with the fresh, too fresh, citrus scent that lingers in air and flutters throughout the room; the table-top bouquets of filled with obnoxious, botanical plants spotted around the place wherever there was even a slither of a bare surface; the hand polished chinaware glued to the top of stained leather placemats, for the meagre purpose of decoration; the gleaming glass chandeliers hanging down from the middle of the ceiling ― and the table cars filled up with so much food, that Thalia is sure, within one swift glance of it, could've fed her, her sister and her mother, as well as countless more families in 4, for a good couple of weeks ― and more. It made it seem as though they were all on their way to somewhere much, much more promising than where they'd been before ― and, in truth ― to where they were actually headed now. It's overbearing and overwhelming and so indulging ― too indulging ― that she feels as though the train was suffocating her, and wished then, for the ground to swallow her whole.
It makes Thalia feel sick to her stomach, all of this.
"Come, come... Come along now!" Their escort ― Calyspo ― adds with an obnoxious shriek, as she guides the two tributes through from the entrance hall of the train, and into the main carriage ―bouncing past the train carts, in her shimmering blue cobalt, nine-inch heels, and making a bee-line towards an intricate silver, chocolate fondue fountain. The woman squeals at the sight of it it all, and rambles on and on with comments about the other riches that the train had to offer them (―slipping in things every now and then, on how they should take the chance and try it all while they still could, but never saying anything outright to them.) Thalia frowns, staring at everything ― it's unlike anything she's ever seen before, and unlike anything she'll ever see again. She tries not to think about it too much. River leads her on ― slumping down into one of the two, velvet seats opposite a shallow coffee table, and placing his feet up on it as he pops a cherry into his mouth ― as though he owned the place. Thalia had noticed that he had that entitled sort of aura around him. She follows after him, regardless, and takes the seat closest to the window ― although it's much less casually than how he had ― and glances out of it, feeling her confidence faltering as the ocean passed further behind them. Thalia averts her eyes from the window, as their escort grins ― and as two more people enter the room; "Now, here ― I think introductions are in order―"
