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✧ ▬ ˋˏ 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 ˎˊ ▬ ✧ ❝ 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒔 ❞ ༻#ˋ 。✩ 。ˊ#༺ in death we trust
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❝ all for freedom and for pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever / everybody wants to rule the world❞
EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD / LORDE.
﹙ chapter twenty nine, act two ; frostbite﹚ johanna mason.
cornucopia, the arena. july, 72 att.
THE CORNUCOPIA STILL BEARS THE SCARS OF THE BLOODBATH. There are still stains on the smooth surface, faint crimson, from where the bodies of tributes bled out only three days ago. Three days? Have the games really been that short and yet so brutal? That doesn't sit right with Johanna. It feels like an eternity since she sat on that rooftop and overheard the details of the arena ▬▬▬ perhaps the frostbite has gotten to her. She flexes her hands and wiggles her toes in her boots, to try and get some kind of blood flow to them, but they sing with pain. Yesterday, they were bone white. Today, they are red and begin to swell. She studied this before coming into the arena. It's the second stage of frostbite ▬▬▬ all she can do is hope that the games don't last long enough to reach the third.
