District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Sept 18, 2016 9:12:15 GMT -7
It would be an understatement to say that it was hard for Asher to keep some distance from Cerulean once they returned to work. It wasn't, of course, that he was afraid of what people would think. He wouldn't mind if all of Panem knew that he was dating Cerulean, but he probably should try to keep his job. Which meant actually doing it, of course. Working as a dyer wasn't exactly Asher's dream job, or one he really thought he would do until he died, but working for the Dyers was no thing to stick up your nose at. Not everyone could cut it here, and those that could were respected in the factory world. Maisie had told him more than once that working here could give him a leg up on whatever job he really did want down the road. Asher wondered though, as he saw flashes Aubergine and Corbeau Dyer throughout the work day, if Cerulean had told them anything about the two of them. The Dyers had always felt more like mysterious figures than living, breathing people to Asher, as they probably did to many of the others that worked in the factory. He had no idea what they would think of their son spending extra-curricular time with him. He had no idea what either of them thought of him in general, except that he must still be good enough to work here. The fact that he was still working here several days after the party and neither Dyer was giving him significant glances meant Cerulean probably hadn't told them. And that was fine. It had been four days since the party and following day filled with Cerulean, and Asher figured that was long enough. It was quite the restraint, he thought. That afternoon, they were unloading boxes of dye powder. After he'd set down one box, he slipped a piece of paper into Cerulean's pocket on the way to grab another. He flashed a grin and said nothing else - they weren't the only two unloading after all - and kept working. It wasn't perhaps the most subtle thing, but it wasn't enough to raise anyone's alarm bells either.
Cerox,
People usually have awkward public dates before all of that kissing, but I certainly don't mind the order we went in. Still, I want to take you out. If you're in, meet me in front of Rosewood at 7 pm tonight. I'll be the one with a rose pinned to my shirt, in case you've forgotten what I look like out there in the real world.
- Asher
--- Asher was standing in front of Rosewood at 6:45. He was normally the type of person to arrive fashionably late to things, but dates were different of course. Cerulean seemed like kind of person who was either on time or early, and he wanted to be there first. It would ruin the whole cheesy element he'd given to this date otherwise. Asher had been on public dates before - before and after Ben, obviously - but this one felt a little different. He hadn't taken anyone to Rosewood, for starters. Rosewood was a classy dinner place that wasn't exactly cheap, and it was recommended to him by one of his classier friends. It wasn't crazy high end - he was only a dyer with limited income, after all - but wasn't the normal casual joint he might have chosen with someone else. Asher hadn't actually been to it at all before, but it seemed like the place to take someone like Cerulean Dyer. For the occasion, Asher had donned a nice blue button-up shirt and black slacks. A pink rose was pinned to his shirt, as promised. The rose was, of course, a joke and reminiscent of school dances, but a good conversation starter if nothing else. Leaning against the side of the building near the entrance, Asher waited for Cerulean to show up. The night air felt good against his skin, and as he waited, he watched the other people choosing Rosewood for their dining enjoyment. They were older, pretty, and he didn't recognize a one of them. He worried briefly about fitting in in there, and shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he should have done a bit more research about this place. It was too late now though. Besides, he reminded himself, since when did Asher Reynolds back down due to fear of fitting in?
WC: 732 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Sept 20, 2016 16:36:32 GMT -7
So far, Cerulean's day had seemed one of luck: entirely unexpected, though not all good, either. It all started with his joint shift with Asher. Though he figured it was preemptive anxiety, Cerulean was - at least for a day or so - fairly worried. He hadn't ever been with someone he was interested in, so he'd never faced the problems that he now did ever before. He was constantly wondering if Asher would say something at the factory, if somehow his parents would find out. The four days of waiting had felt eerily calm. Finally, his interaction came. Little did Asher know, but Cerulean had been making tiny tweaks to the master schedule. Rearranging just a few shifts, changing a few times for certain things. Since he was basically the head of the dyeing department, it wasn't anything he hadn't done before. Plus, if anyone asked (though he sincerely doubted they would) he could easily justify it with a handful of excuses. Whatever he had to do, though, it meant seeing Asher slightly more than usual. It paid off even more when he felt something slip into his pocket. One bathroom break later, and he'd found the invite to his first real date.
The rest of the day, he hadn't been in a very focused mindset like he typically was. He kept zoning out, getting lost in his thoughts as he considered the night to come. Cerulean kept looking towards the end of day, watching the hours tick down until he could go on the date. Thirty minutes before the end of his shift, though, his mother stopped him as he was crossing the stock room floor.. "Cerulean," she called to him. When he walked towards her, it was with an immediate pang of fear and adrenaline. A part of him could not stop wondering if she'd finally found him out. "Mother," he acknowledged her. "I'm going to need a favor. Your father and I are meeting with Mr. Bre tonight... hopefully, we will have purchased his factory by next month." Cerulean furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. "But isn't that on the other side of the district?" His mother sighed. "Yes, Cerulean, it is. But that doesn't mean that it still does not serve to create competition. If we get rid of them, we won't have to keep lowering our prices." Cerulean didn't really understand why she would want to do such a thing. The Dyers already had far more money than they knew what to do with, and their factory's production was at an all time high. Closing another plant wouldn't make a significant change for their lives, but it would strip jobs from a hundred workers, maybe even more. Still, he said nothing. He had stopped questioning their decsions a long time ago. Aubergine cleared her throat. "Anyway, I was hoping that you would stay here a half hour extra to receive a powder shipment from 11." Translation: You will stay a half hour extra and receive the shipment. Cerulean nodded. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind."
-------
"What do you mean, train delays? Why should we have to suffer 6's neglect? Obviously, this problem should have been fixed by now. I'm calling the station." There was a final click, and Cerulean felt the phone resting in his hands. Already, the shipment was an hour late. Somehow, his mother managed to be less happy about it than he was. Thirty minutes overtime was not a big deal. Now, it was looking like it would be at least a two hour delay. It meant that he'd have less than an hour to go home, clean up, and get to the restaurant.
After some calls to his parent's driver, Cerulean had managed to work out a plan. As soon as the shipment came, he'd unload. The driver would bring him fresh clothing, and he could attempt a shower in the forgotten apartment that was connected to the factory. He paced as he waited for the shipment. When the knock sounded on the metal doors, it was exactly 6:00. With a hurried scribble on a paper, and a "thank you," and, "no, I can handle it," Cerulean could finally start getting ready. He took his fresh stack of clothing from Jack, the driver, and rushed upstairs to shower.
Even though the water was freezing and came out in random gushes, it was a shower nonetheless. It was like a race for Cerulean as he hopped out, dried off to the best of his ability and pulled on his clothes. Just as he got to the factory doors, ready to leave, he saw his reflection in the mirror. "Oh, for Snow's sake," he whispered in horror.
-------
When Jack pulled to the curb one block from Rosewood, it was 7:03. After showering, Cerulean had accidentally wiped some dark grey dye down the front of his white shirt. With negative time to spare and an apparent traffic jam near his house, Cerulean had no option but to dye the entire thing. He'd thrown it in the industrial driers on their highest setting possible but when he'd pulled it out, it was still somewhat damp. Regardless, it was something he had to deal with. Hoping very desperately that his cologne covered the scent of fresh dye, Cerulean sat off for the restaurant.
As he briskly made his way down the block, Cerulean noticed that his palms were almost completely stained. At that point, he sighed and decided that there was no other option but acceptance. Finally, he rounded the corner, and there was Asher. The sight of him made Cerulean just a bit more breathless than he already was. Cerulean walked up to him, putting his hands in his pockets to hide the dye stains to the best of his ability. "Asher - hey! I'm sorry I'm so late. There was just a shipping problem, and, yeah. It's been crazy today." He managed to exhale, but did not accomplish the feat of pretending that his nerves only existed from his hectic day. Words: 1020 Tags: Asher ReynoldsNotes: Holy mother of ramble, super sorry Rebecca. |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Oct 5, 2016 21:10:52 GMT -7
The minutes dragged by as Asher waited, his nervousness only growing as he watched more customers make their way in to Rosewood. See, this was the problem with arriving early and not doing the proper research. He shifted from foot to foot, glancing at his watch far too often. In all honesty, he usually didn't even wear a watch. It wasn't even his watch - it was one of Stella's ex-boyfriend's. But it was a date, a real date, and he should be nervous, he supposed. He didn't want to mess things up with this boy, and despite Cerulean's recently subdued social life, Asher didn't know what kind of standards he really had. After all, he had been Sienna Dyer's twin brother. She had been well-know for getting into all kind of things. And of course, he was a Dyer. Hearing his name, Asher looked up to see Cerulean walking toward him. A smile crossed his face, and he pushed himself off of the wall. Cerulean was a bit frantic, giving him a hurried greeting with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Asher couldn't care less that Cerulean was late really, he was just glad he was here. "Late?" he repeated, checking his watch and then letting out a bit of a dramatic breath. "Well, if this is late for you, you're in for quite the ride with me." He stepped forward, wanting to greet him with a kiss but holding back. He offered out his elbow to Cerulean instead - he could play the chivalrous gentleman. He caught the familiar scent of Cerulean's cologne, but it was laced with a stronger-than-expected scent of dye. Well, if he'd been dealing with shipping at the factory, Cerulean had probably just come straight from there without time to shower. The strong scent of it could easily leak into your clothes, so who could blame Cerulean if he smelled a bit like it? "Shall we?"Inside, Asher walked toward the host booth. There was a couple in front of him, chatting to the host, so he took a moment to to look around this place he had picked. It was very elegantly decorated. The walls seemed to be made up of a combination of wood and glass, cutting out little alcoves and passages in what would otherwise have been a square, normal room. "Ma'am, the wait's at least an hour now, I'm sorry.""Oh come on, Ocre, you know us. We're here all the time. Can't you get us in any faster than that?"Greenery leaked from vases, and candles sprinkled the tables. There was the low murmur of conversation, and classical music came in through the speakers. Perhaps this was just a bit much, a bit higher than has friend had led him to believe. Well, it was too late to turn back now. He wasn't really saving for anything interesting anyway, and what could was money if you couldn't spend it? "Well... the Reynolds party doesn't seem to be showing up, so I suppose you can take-""Oh, we're here," Asher cut in, his attention snapping back to the host stand. He stepped out from behind the couple. "Reynolds, party of two."The host was tall and thin with a neatly trimmed beard. He glanced over at Asher, seemed to take in his appearance in a way that wasn't complimentary, then glanced down to the paper on his little desk. "You're late, and we reserve the right to give away tables for late guests.""Well, no need. We're here now.""I see." There was a pause, and the host glanced at the couple again. This hesitation made it clear that he was honestly considering giving the table away to the couple and making Asher and Cerulean wait, even though Asher had made the reservation days ago. He'd honestly made it the morning after he'd spend the day with Cerulean, and had only waited to ask him out so as not to seem too pushy. Neither member of the couple looked at Asher during this pause, and in fact the woman stepped a bit closer and gave the host a gentle smile, as if hoping to persuade him toward their case. He had to speak before the decision was made. "Look, can't you just-" Asher felt his temper rising, and cut himself off. He glanced at Cerulean, let out a breath, and tried to relax. "It's important, okay? Really important. It's my first time here and I didn't know the rules, but I promise to be the best guest you've ever had from here on out." Asher couldn't help but put a hand over his heart as if he were making the most sincere of declarations. That, combined with his tone near the end of his speech, was a clearly sarcastic move to anyone that knew him but one that would hopefully come out as genuine enough to this stranger. Just in case, he added, "Please."The host paused a moment longer, then let out a breath. "Right this way, sir," he said, picking up a pair of menus. Glancing at Asher's dinner guest, he amended, "Sirs," then led them toward a table. Asher followed, casting an easy smile to Cerulean as if the whole thing had just been a little pre-dinner entertainment, when really he was worried this would just be the first of his many difficulties tonight.
WC: 895 Tag: Cerulean DyerNotes: Feel free to ramble away! I'm not a stranger to it myself, apparently. |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Nov 12, 2016 10:00:43 GMT -7
There were a lot of questions that Cerulean hadn't answered for himself. He'd been to Rosewood before, much more than once. He'd also been on dates before. Somehow, the two weren't adding together to form the basis for what to expect, because there was the new constant yet uncertain variable: Asher. Of course, he'd been nervous for dates before. Predominately because he was worried about pushing through, enduring the whole affair tactfully and politely. This time, he wadanted it to be fun. There was the ever lingering idea in the back of his mind, though, that this was not the type of fun that he should allow himself to be having. His parents knew people - people at Rosewood. Question would lead to question, and, if he wasn't careful, Cerulean would be faced with his parents armed with the knowledge of his relationship (whatever that was) with Asher.
He managed to smile, though. After all, it was Asher. He, like a good drink, could take the edge off things and allow Cerulean to slip into an easier version of himself. Keeping his palm pointed downward, he linked his arm through Asher's. There definitely a moment of hesitation before his decision, but Cerulean imagined that he made up for that with his small smile that followed. "We shall."
dd
Cerulean recognized the inside fairly well. Rosewood was Rosewood. It was the venue for all the uncomfortable dinners with his parents and the mayor or some other district tycoons. While the food was very good, Cerulean had always been fairly indifferent. Most of the time, he preferred to eat Mrs. Jackie's food in his kitchen at home where he could listen to hear tell stories and rush around the rest of the workers at his house in the most matronly way possible. Nevertheless, he imagined it would be a different experience with Asher, probably less uncomfortable than his previous dinners there had been.
Cerulean hoped that until he caught the words of the host. For a brief moment, he acknowledged the fact that it would have never happened to his parents. They weren’t bad people, but the name did evoke some sort of fear. Every time that he’d walked in with his parents, the table had been set and a waiter ready to take orders. It hadn’t occurred to him that it wasn’t always like that for everybody else.
Though a bit of uneasiness rose within him when he could sense Asher becoming angry, it was quickly replaced with him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Cerulean could practically hear the sarcasm dripping off Asher’s voice. The host, quite apparently, did not. Cerulean returned Asher’s easy smile, following the waiter back into a back corner of the restaurant, tucked away from the rest. Now, when his family at Rosewood, they typically requested more private booths, typically because there was business to be discussed. This time, Cerulean assumed that the host had made a quick amendment to the seating charts, guessing that the Reynolds party of 2 would end up being much more of a party than Rosewood could accommodate. Cerulean didn’t mind, though. It took away the pressure on him that would come from the eyes resting on him, if there were to be any of those.
Cerulean sat down in his chair, scooting it close to the table. The waiter, still showing light hints of disdain from earlier, said ”I’ll be back for your orders.” After he had slipped past the table and into the back, probably to complain to coworkers about the Reynolds party of 2, Cerulean laughed as he looked down at the table.
”What a ray of sunshine he is,” Cerulean commented, shifting better into his chair and pulling out the menu. As his eyes skimmed the pages, one thing that kept popping into his mind were the prices. They hadn’t been something he’d ever noticed before. Now that he sat with Asher, they were nagging him. He vaguely knew the salaries of most people in the factory, and he never imagined them enough to be dining at what was probably the nicest restaurant in the District. The menu held imports from across Panem - good fish, apples, oranges, fresh meat - things that people in 8 rarely saw. ”So,” he asked, trying to be casual, ”what do you think you’re getting?”
Words: 750
Tags: Asher Reynolds |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Nov 16, 2016 9:35:48 GMT -7
Asher was relieved to be following the host to a table and that Cerulean didn't seem put off by the whole encounter. There was plenty to look at as they walked, seeming to be taken deep into the restaurant. Everywhere, diners were immersed in low conversation with the clinking of flatware on plates. They didn't glance up to stare at the three as they walked through, as Asher might have worried. Despite being indoors, the place was full of artificial and reflected light. Has Cerulean been here before? Or a better question - was this the kind of place he was used to? Probably. He was a Dyer, after all, and that's why Asher had chosen Rosewood. Maybe everything would go well if they were in a place Cerulean was comfortable. The host finally brought them to their table, tucked away in the back. Asher didn't mind at all. He could still see plenty of the beautiful decor and would get his date to himself. He sat down across from Cerulean as their host said he'd be back for their orders. "I can't wait," Asher couldn't help but respond with what he hoped was a sweet smile. He watched their waiter's retreating back for a moment, realizing he'd probably have to drop some of the sarcasm so this guy wouldn't spit in their food, and looked back to his date. He smirked at Cerulean's comment about their oh-so-kind waiter. Well, drop the sarcasm around the waiter anyway. "Just delightful," he agreed. Asher followed Cerulean's lead by pulling out the menu next, but didn't bother to look at it right away. Instead, he took in their elegant table, the limited view of the restaurant they had, and of course Cerulean himself. Man, that boy was good looking - whether covered in splotches of dye or cleaned up like tonight. And speaking of dye - was there something on his hands? At his question though, Asher glanced down and started perusing down the menu's contents. His eyes couldn't help flicking to the prices as he did, an old habit from those tight months where his entree might be determined by his wallet. Upon seeing the prices though, it was all Asher could do not to cry out. This was seriously what they were charging? Did meals here come with a side of gold and a busty woman coming out to cut your meat for you? If this was the lower part of high-end restaurants, the 19-year-old probably would have flat out feinted at one of the nicer places. He was going to have a word with the friend that recommended this place. "Hmmm," Asher responded, using the sound to give himself a little more time to answer. He was tempted to opt for a salad, claiming that he wasn't very hungry, but his stomach rolled at the thought. He was starving. Nerves had eaten up whatever food stores he'd had before getting here. Besides, if he ordered a salad, that was a pretty obvious tell that Asher couldn't afford this place, and Cerulean would probably would feel obligated to help pay at the end. That absolutely could not happen. Asher was the one who had proposed the date, and he tended to follow the rules of that - which included paying. He had enough money to cover the meal, and if there wasn't much left afterward, that was just fine. Stella would help him out if it got that bad. "I've never had tilapia," Asher announced, looking over his menu at Cerulean. "What better night to give a whirl than tonight? It's smothered in herbs and lemon, so worst case, it shouldn't be boring." He smiled and closed the menu, laying both hands on top of it. Tilapia wasn't the most expensive thing on the menu, but neither was it among the bottom dregs. He was pretty sure it was fish - it was in the seafood section - and fish wasn't something he came across much. That was standard for most of District 8 though. "Unless you have any recommendations - I haven't been here before." Obviously he added in his head but thankfully didn't say out loud. "What are you getting?"
WC: 694 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Nov 17, 2016 21:14:12 GMT -7
Cerulean scanned the menu, noting a few of relatively inexpensive options. He’d always been an adventurous eater, trying whatever was in front of him. It was certainly an asset here, as there were very few things on the menu that he wouldn’t eat. He glanced up when Asher made his suggestion. ”The tilapia is really good,” he said, ”probably one of the better dishes here. You’ll love it.” Sometimes, Miss Jackie brought in fish from the market and made phenomenal dishes better than he’d ever be served in a restaurant. If Asher hadn’t taken him out on such a nice date, Cerulean might have invited him over to meet her and taste her cooking. Miss Jackie had been a sit in mother at times, part of the hired staff since he was born. She wouldn’t judge Cerulean. If anything, she’d slide Asher under her wing, too. But Asher had splurged for Rosewood, and Cerulean was a Dyer for Snow’s snake. He was paid a salary that he’d never touched before, the ridiculous sum of money accumulating in a drawer in his room, constantly added to with money dropped into his hand by his mother encouraging him to “get out and do something.” Maybe this was his chance to finally do that. As Cerulean glanced away from his menu, he decided what to order. ”They have off-menu ordering, too, so I’ll probably get the herb chicken. It’s drool worthy.” It was also one of the cheapest things he could order, but that was not something he added. Chicken was the cheapest meat, and by avoiding wording a direct dish, he skirted the extra meal charges. Just as he laid his menu on the table with Asher’s, Cerulean felt a hand clasp on his shoulder. He turned in his seat, seeing the large presence of Mr. Jacobsen looming above him. He shot a quick apologetic look to Asher before standing, straightening his suit. ”Cerulean Dyer,” he boomed, causing a few guests to turn and look to their table, ”I would say that I didn’t expect to see you here, but that wouldn’t be entirely truthful!” His following laugh made it seem as if he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. ”Hello, Mr. Jacobsen. The pleasure’s mine.” To Slate Jacobsen, his voice probably sounded enthusiastic. To anyone else, the awkwardness was probably painfully audible. He was a “friend” of his parents, a factory tycoon in the northern part of the District. ”What brings you to town?””Same old, same old, you know…” Slate said, throwing in an exaggerated wink. The burly man turned to look at Asher. ”Who’s this? Pretty lucky man if you ask me, sitting at your table.”Cerulean bit the inside of his lip. ”This is Asher Reynolds, he works at the factory with me and-“ Cerulean began, but was cut off as Slate grabbed one of his gesturing hands. ”What the hell’s this? Dye stains? At Rosewood?” Slate laughed his bombing laugh again, this time gaining a few dirty looks from across the room. ”Well, listen, son, I have to be off. Business as usual. See you, then.” And Slate was off, turned and walking away as if the encounter had never happened. Cerulean sunk back down into his seat, massaging his temples for a quick moment as he did. Not only had Slate Jacobsen brought up the whole “position and wealth” ordeal that perhaps felt a bit awkward, but he’d also drawn attention to Cerulean’s hands AND forced him to consider, even if for a moment, how he could explain the relationship happening between himself and Asher. As much as it pained him, Rosewood and tycoons were a part of Cerulean’s life. Asher had felt like a momentary escape from that, but really, no one could escape at Rosewood. ”I’m sorry about that,” he said, shaking his head into his hand. ”Slate Jacobsen is… spirited. But it sells, so I guess that it’s worked well for him.” Cerulean smiled again, this time apologetically. He wondered what Asher really thought of him. Ultimately, he wasn’t a normal 18 year old. There was the impending responsibility of the factory which ate at him, and the great divide in his life that he wasn’t sure many could understand. More than anything, he wanted Asher to break through that, though, to see him beyond what his family name was. He wanted to lie, to say that “it’s not usually like this” or some other reassuring pleasantry, but he didn’t want to be untruthful. Words: 800 Tags: Asher Reynolds |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Nov 17, 2016 23:20:05 GMT -7
"Well, good to know I have taste," Asher said at Cerulean's compliment of his meal choice. Cerulean's choice of dish definitely answered the unasked question for Asher if this was his kind of place. If he'd been here often enough to know the secret menu, he was really a regular. Asher regretted his choice of restaurant even further. Yes, he'd wanted to take Cerulean somewhere that was nice and up Cerulean's alley, but not to one of the places he'd grown up going to. The whole Dyer family probably came here all the time. Great. Well, it was too late now. Asher pushed that out of his mind in favor of focusing on something else in Cerulean's words. "So, the swanky places have their secret menus too?" he asked. He'd opened his mouth to mention this pasta place he went to with the most amazing soup when he was interrupted by a large hand clasping Cerulean's shoulder, attached to a similarly large man. Asher recognized the man immediately, although he doubted the recognition went back the other way. Before he'd come to work at the Dyer factory, he'd interviewed at the Jacobson one as well. The man had been outgoing with little regard for personal space, but the interview had gone pretty well. Near the end, Mr. Jacobson had said, "Now, I've got some pretty girls in my place, but I do not tolerate any fooling around in my factory. That won't be a problem, will it son?" "Not a problem at all, sir," Asher had responded, maybe too quickly and confidently. Mr. Jacobson had leaned forward then, and his eyes squinted as if he were studying Asher. "You're not one of those gays, are you son?" he asked. Well, what was Asher to say? He was still bitter over Ben and wasn't about to lie to his potential new employer - even if it cost him the job. "Yes sir, I am." He hadn't been offered the job, in the end. Asher said nothing as Cerulean stood up to greet the older man. The awkward formality in Cerulean's voice was adorable, and then the man turned his attention to Asher. The recognition clearly wasn't there, for which he was grateful, and Asher couldn't help the small smile that came to his face at Mr. Jacobson's comment about Cerulean's dinner guest being lucky. About a dozen retorts rushed to his lips, but he forced them all down. About half of them weren't appropriate for polite company, a few more sarcastic, and none of them would win him any points with Mr. Jacboson. Not that he cared much about the points. His smile fell a at Cerulean's answer though. Asher Reynolds, just a guy working at the factory of the illustrious Dyers. Like this was a business meeting or something. Okay, so Asher hadn't been expecting "This is Asher, my date," but even "This is my friend Asher" would have been less... separating. A guy who worked at the factory was just a guy who worked at the factory. Maybe if everyone involved didn't know that Cerulean Dyer and Slate Jacobson were at the head of huge factories, the comment wouldn't have been so clearly putting Asher in a different world from them. Cerulean probably didn't mean it that way - surely he didn't think that of Asher? - but it got to him nonetheless. Mr. Jacobson's booming laugh cut in to Asher's thoughts, and he saw one of Cerulean's hands caught in his. So it had been a dye stain he'd caught a glimpse of a minute ago. This normally would have made Asher laugh, but the exchange between the two men was making him increasingly uncomfortable. Mr. Jacobson didn't bother addressing Asher directly - though whether it was because he was just a factory guy or Cerulean's hands had upset him so much, it was hard to tell. The exchange was also drawing a fair amount of attention from the other dinner guests, and he wouldn't normally have minded except for the context. Asher was all too grateful when Mr. Jacobson walked off to leave the two of them alone again. Asher glanced back at Cerulean, who seemed clearly drained by the exchange. His own mood had sobered, and he only watched as the other boy took a moment to compose himself. "It certainly has," Asher agreed. "But I'm glad I ended up working for you instead of him." The words tasted odd even as he said them. The statement was near enough to the truth, and somehow, Asher hadn't fully realized that before. He was essentially courting his employer. Thinking about that though, and Mr. Jacobson and what Cerulean had said, would be an easy way to turn this whole date sour. He hadn't planned this date and worked his way into Cerulean's attention to let it all go south this early in the night. There had to be some way to turn it back to decent, back to good, and Asher intended to find it. It was one thing he was usually good at. Asher reached out and took one of Cerulean's dye-stained hands in both of his, turning the palm upward. He slid a thumb gently along the gray skin. "This is it," he said with a smile, shaking his head. "This is why I'm into you. Here you are, this smart, amazing guy in a fancy restaurant talking to fancy people, and your hands are dyed gray. Literally gray. I could not have guessed something like that in a million years." His chuckled a little as thumb continued to brush the skin of Cerulean's hand, not wanting to give it back just yet. He raised his eyebrows. "Do these hands come with a story?"Before Cerulean would have had time to answer that question, a cleared throat to Asher's left made him turn his head. Their waiter was standing there, his pad in hand and a mildly uncomfortable expression on his face. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, his gaze flicking down to their joined hands before back up to their faces. "Are you ready to order?"
WC: 1013 Tag: Cerulean Dyer
|
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Nov 19, 2016 16:03:36 GMT -7
I’m glad I ended up working for you instead of him.”The words sounded biter in Cerulean’s ears. On his 18th birthday, his gift was 25% ownership of the factory, ”for you to learn the ropes so you can take the whole thing soon,” his mother had said with a grin, brandishing the certificate. Nothing had really changed, though. He didn’t like the idea of being anyone’s “boss”. ”Actually,” he started to tell Asher, ”nobody works for me, not now anyways. So we’re coworkers.” Cerulean added a smile to the end of his words. ”I don’t want to sound 50 yet.” One day, though, maybe even soon, he’d get the whole factory in his name and then, if Asher still worked there, he actually would be the employer - the boss. He hadn’t meant to sound so impersonal about Asher when talking to Slate. Cerulean’s father had taught him, though, that every encounter he would have with someone like Slate Jacobsen was a meeting even if there was no desk between them. Cerulean had to think carefully before he spoke, carefully crafting his words to make himself - and the factory, by a sometimes unfortunate extension - stay on good terms. Today, the casualty had been Asher’s feelings, even if only for a moment. Cerulean saw the look on Asher’s face when he’d described him as what probably sounded to Asher as “just another factory worker.” But they weren’t dating yet, were they? Right now, they were just two people at dinner, albeit two people who had made out in a bathroom at a party and shared a bed. The second that Asher touched his hand, Cerulean felt his stomach rise up to his throat. Despite the terribly nervous feeling he felt coursing through his entire body, making his stomach clench and his muscles tighten, a smile crept to his lips. He was sitting in Rosewood, of all places, touching another guy. Cerulean was trying so hard to find comfort in his identity but the process was scary. Something he found in the process was that he loved it. ”I’d been hoping you wouldn’t catch that,” he said, laughing quietly and looking down in a moment of embarrassment. Cerulean’s cheeks were pink, but he loved the compliment, the feeling of being flattered. Horribly unfortunately, the moment was cut short. The waiter from earlier stood at the table, looking a bit uncomfortable and maybe even annoyed. Cerulean felt irritated at this. Who was this person to judge him? Had he not felt the boldness that the surge of anger brought to him, he might have snatched his hand back, face flaming red in horrified embarrassment. Instead, Cerulean gave Asher’s hand a bit of a squeeze and smiled before gently taking his hand back so he could return the menu to the waiter. Feeling much more confident and cool than he actually was, Cerulean calmly gave his order. Words: 505 Tags: Asher Reynolds
|
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Dec 8, 2016 20:36:27 GMT -7
Coworkers. Asher gave a ghost of a smile at Cerulean's clarification, but he didn't really believe it. It wasn't that simple, anyway. If Cerulean had only been his coworker, Asher wouldn't have had to be nearly so careful in attracting his attention in the first place. If Cerulean was only a coworker, his name wouldn't be such a powerful force in the district, in Panem. But to explain all of that would be hard - and very awful for a date. "No chance of that," he replied to the comment about sounding 50, but simply left the rest of it alone. Dating Cerulean wouldn't be like dating any of the other factory workers in the Dyer factory. Mr. Jacobson's brief appearance was a reminder of that, but Asher would just have to push that hurt and awkwardness away. He was aware of the differences in station between himself and his date, but he didn't want to get in an argument about them. Not now, when everything was so new. Luckily, touching Cerulean and mentioning the grey hands seemed to do the trick to steer the conversation away from heavier topics. Cerulean was embarrassed and adorable, his cheeks flushed, and Asher enjoyed the reaction his words had caused. It felt like they were back on track, back to being just two guys on a date. He loved being able to hold his hand, even if it was under the guise of the conversation topic. It was so much more thrilling in this public place, completely sober. "Why?" Asher asked, then chuckled. "Though it would be quite a feat if you could make it through the entire meal without me noticing something like that."The waiter showed back up, and Asher initially tensed. It was like the two of them couldn't catch much of a break tonight, and if they were going to be interrupted again every time they got back to a good spot, he was afraid he was going to scream. Cerulean was new to being on a date with a guy, and Asher still had doubts from Ben in his head. And of course Asher was new to taking someone out to a place this nice, so there were plenty of doubts about himself as well. But Cerulean didn't jerk his hand back at the interruption of another person, or get flustered, or even seem embarrassed. Instead, he squeezed Asher's hand before taking it away gently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Asher grinned and tried playing it just as cool, looking back down to his menu as if reaffirming what it was he was going to order. The relief made him not even care if the waiter was rude. He gave his order after Cerulean had and handed over his menu. He even managed to avoid saying something sarcastic when the waiter walked away afterward, muttering about that something "just wasn't right." When the waiter was gone, Asher leaned back in his seat a moment. Maybe they still would be okay, no matter what this dinner tried to throw their way, and they could look back and laught about it one day. Heck, maybe even laugh about it today. He shook his head a little over-dramatically before looking back to Cerulean. "You're taking this all pretty well, considering," he started, a bit of a smirk on his face. "I mean, I chose the literal worst place in District 8 to take you, didn't I? No, I guess there is that meth lab up on Ermine street, but I think Rosewood is coming in a solid second." He sighed. "The next date will be better, assuming you aren't out of giving me chances just yet."
WC: 620 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Jan 9, 2017 21:53:57 GMT -7
Cerulean’s heart pounded in his chest and he was screaming internally, but no one could tell from his infallible composure. Every single time he managed some feat of nonchalance or self-acceptance with Asher, it was with some inexplicable push from somewhere within. And every single time he managed one of those feats, he felt absolutely drained after. Cerulean managed a smile to Asher as he tried to pretend that he didn’t hear the waiter’s rude words or feel their harsh bite. When he glanced to Asher, his grin and laugh felt like an anchor. In every single way possible, Cerulean felt grounded by the expression on his face. When he exhaled a shaky breath, he felt fear and uncertainty leave him. “No,” Cerulean protested with a laugh, “I could write you a list - like, an actual list, if you wanted - of places worse than this in 8.” His adventures with Sienna in the past didn’t always lead to fun and happy places, and Cerulean had seen his fair share of unsatisfactory places in District 8. A thought popped into his mind that made him smile shyly down at his place setting for a moment before drawing the courage to look upwards. ”I’m just really glad I came somewhere with you,” Cerulean admitted. The truth be told, he was beginning to despise the light green paint of his walls and flat white ceiling that he stared at once getting home. Any change in scenery was a good one. Cerulean chuckled a bit at the thought. “Hm,” he replied at last, “if you insist on it, then maybe I’ll think about a next time,” There was a faux serious tone in his voice, but his facial expression did not match it at all. Instead, it said that he would be willing to go anywhere with Asher, even if that place happened to be the meth lab on Ermine, if it meant that he wasn’t alone. ———————— Their plates had been cleared for a while and the bill already paid, but Cerulean and Asher were still at the table together in the middle of a deep conversation. The waiter from earlier kept walking by with increasing frequency, tearing Cerulean out of the conversation each time he did so. Finally, with a sigh, Cerulean looked up to see the clock. It was nearing 9 pm already. Cerulean’s two hours with Asher didn’t feel nearly as long. He forgot how refreshing it was to simply be with someone, just talking and laughing and joking. Cerulean wasn’t ready for the night to end. An idea entered his mind, and it only took a brief moment of consideration for Cerulean to decide to go along with it. ”Hey,” he said softly to Asher, glancing up at the clock once again, ”if they don’t close soon, they’ll probably kick us out. So how about we leave? I have somewhere I want to take you that I think you’d like.”Words: 520 Tags:Asher Reynolds |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Jan 16, 2017 13:39:53 GMT -7
Asher couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at Cerulean's protestation of there being worse places to take a date. "Is that right?" he asked. "Well, can't say I'm not curious about that." Okay, so maybe there were a few worse places he could have taken Cerulean. He could have dragged his date along to the underground dog fight that one of Stella's ex-boyfriends had invited them along to one time. Or, he could have taken Cerulean to the lovely Reynolds, residence where they could either get ignored by Asher's parents, witness the next fight-of-the-century, or both at the same time. But at least in those places, Asher would have been a little more in his element. This kind of place was Cerulean's element, a world he understood better than Asher did, and Asher should have at least done a little more research before deciding on it. A shy smile crossed Cerulean's face, and the next words out of the other boy's mouth did make Asher release a tiny breath of relief. "Me too," he admitted, easily. God, he was out here with Cerulean Dyer, finally, and hadn't 100% scared him off yet. That could be considered quite an accomplishment in and of itself. As Cerulean went on, Asher laughed and nodded. "Oh, I insist. I definitely insist."--- Despite the rocky start to the night, Asher and Cerulean's date seemed to be going pretty well. They'd settled into a level of comfort not always common among first dates, and after a while, Asher didn't much care that he was in a fancy restaurant. The waiter's increasingly agitated passings by their table provided brief amusement, and when the bill came, Asher had resigned himself to not caring about the incredibly steep price printed on the ticket. He had paid it and even left a decent tip - really, could any waiter expect more than 10% with a price that high? - and relaxed. He'd bump Cerulean's hands or body "accidentally" whenever he got a chance, the little touches sending a thrill through him, and just talked. It was getting close to time to go. He couldn't tell that because of the time or the waiter, but there was just this feeling you got when dinner was over and it was time to move on or move out. Asher had decided to let Cerulean be the one to bring up their impending departure, and when he finally did, Asher leaned back against his chair. It was a relief that Cerulean wasn't ready to call it a night yet, because Asher wasn't either. Even though things had gone well now, Asher had a reserve of pent-up energy that would be much more fun to spend with Cerulean than back home in his apartment. "I think letting you choose the next location might violate the original dater/datee agreement we signed, but I'll let it slide this time," Asher said, stretching a little before he stood up. Across the room, he could see their waiter let out a very visible sigh of relief. Asher smirked, again pushing down the urge to add some overt PDA to this leaving scene for the waiter's benefit alone. He looked back at Cerulean, then fell into step next to him as they started to make their way out of the restaurant. Asher also resisted the urge to look at the still-remaining restaurant guests, on the off-chance that either he or Cerulean would recognize one of them - like Mr. Jacobsen. "So, what do you have in mind?"
WC: 585 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Jan 16, 2017 17:07:24 GMT -7
Cerulean stood up right after Asher. Across the restaurant, he caught the eyes of their waiter who, upon the realization that they were leaving, visibly sighed. Cerulean laughed a little to himself, finding the whole thing incredibly comedic. He and Asher were probably some of the least problematic guests at the restaurant. When Cerulean and his parents dined with the mayor of 8 a month prior, the table constantly barked orders at the waiter. Once, he ate there with someone who played a “tip game,” deducting a bill from a small stack he placed at the table each time the waiter did something displeasing. The second they stepped out of the restaurant, Cerulean let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. Even being with Asher, the general feel of the restaurant always left him on edge, as if by just being there, expectations were weighing down on him. At Asher’s question, he grinned easily. “Telling you might violate the original surpiser/suprisee agreement we signed,” Cerulean replied, turning left on the street and away from the center of the city. “But I’ll let it slide this time.” At a street corner, a car paused to let them cross. Cerulean jogged across, then glanced to make sure that Asher was still with him. It still felt surreal that Asher was willingly with him doing this, and he almost expected him to eventually run off in boredom. On the safety of the other side of the street, Cerulean glanced up the few inches of difference in height between Asher’s eyes and his own. “Have you ever been in the old industrial sector?” When Asher was very young, most of the factories in his area of 8 were east of the main city. They stayed there until one of the dyeing tycoons died. When faced with unemployment, the workers there rioted and burned down their own factory. The fire spread to a few surrounding facilities. When the rain finally came, most of the buildings in the area had been severely damaged and more than a few workers died. As if some sort of bad omen lay on the land there, the new factories were built to the west of the city, where his parent’s factory had already stood for some time. Nearly two decades after its fall, the old district had little more than shells of decrepit factories and houses. Some - but few - still lived there. Once in a while, a small party sprung up in some forgotten warehouse there, but any mention of the wasteland was very rare. Cerulean knew that his mentioning it probably seemed really strange to Asher but he had already formed a plan. He and Sienna had combed the entirety of the District, and of all the places he ever saw, Cerulean found his favorite in the old industrial sector. It felt risky to show Asher the place so soon, but the truth was that Cerulean had longed to see it for some time and he couldn’t face it alone. Besides, once the idea had entered his head, there was no turning back from it. Cerulean led them farther out of the city and across the railroad tracks that separated most civilization from the ruins of past industry. Here he was most comfortable. The night air was the perfect temperature - slightly warm with slight gusts of wind bearing the promise of rain. There was no one around to recognize him except for Asher. He felt free. “This,” he said as the stepped across the tracks, “is definitely my favorite area of the district, believe it or not.” Words: 611 Tags:Asher ReynoldsNotes: I'm living for this thread honestly |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Jan 17, 2017 8:21:45 GMT -7
Asher laughed as Cerulean turned his own word play back at him and nodded. It was actually pretty exciting to be led somewhere, even if it meant he, as the one doing the asking out, wasn't doing the leading anymore. He had planned on doing all the planning and paying, though really the only plan he'd had as an option after the date was heading to Maisie's bar. Cerulean had already been there before, but heading back to Asher's apartment was like a "hey we should sleep together" wink and besides, Maisie was awesome. She could have helped salvage the date if it was going bad and she seemed to have liked Cerulean well enough. Plus, going there would have spoken to the fact that this wasn't just a normal, awkward first date, but that they'd already moved past that onto something better. Cerulean getting ideas to take Asher out somewhere seemed to amount to the same idea, so Asher didn't really mind. Asher kept up with Cerulean until they reached a street corner where a car was waiting for them to cross. Cerulean jogged across the street, but Asher merely walked behind him. He tipped a lazy salute and grin to the driver, who did not seem impressed, and rejoined Cerulean in time to hear his question. "Not really," Asher responded, the location catching him off guard a bit. It was basically just a bunch of empty buildings over there. It had been tempting for a younger Asher to go over there and wreak some havoc on the empty streets, but Maisie hadn't really wanted to go there. Her territory was more the central city. She liked the noise and people everywhere, which had ended up being what Asher liked too. He hadn't even thought of that abandoned part of the district in years, so he was curious as to what it was Cerulean was going to show him there. They made their way further away from civilization, away from crowded streets and the chatter of people. The wind against Asher's face was refreshing on the warm night, and its gusts seemed to come with more frequency the more remote the got. It would probably rain soon, and the prospect didn't bother Asher at all. They crossed the train tracks and Asher smiled as Cerulean claimed that this was his favorite place in the district. Asher could see it on his face too. There seemed to be a lightening of his features, a kind of open look that he hadn't fully had back in the restaurant. Asher had no idea what this place really meant to him, or why these old empty buildings held such an appeal, but the fact that this was Cerulean's favorite place was really all he needed to know. "You just continue to surprise me, Cerox," Asher said before turning to look around them, his smile fading as he took it in. There wasn't a single other person - or even the hint of a person - in sight. They were completely alone, as far as Asher could tell, and that felt a little eerie. It wasn't the kind of alone he felt in his apartment, when Stella was gone and he had the place to himself. There were people above and below him, locked doors if he needed them, and the ability to go on a quick walk and encounter a dozen people. Asher wasn't really one who liked being alone much. Here, if there were people, they were hiding in the old buildings. He and Cerulean were just out here, in the open, subject to whatever could come at them from either side. He'd rather go back into the city now, but if this sort of emptiness was Cerulean's thing, then alright, Asher would give it a go. At leas Cerulean was here with him. Asher's gaze caught on the corner of a red brick building to the left of them, near the tracks. Seeing it sparked something, the flash of a blonde girl taking his hand and ushering him through the old brown door. He had been here before. "I met your sister here," Asher suddenly said, without thinking about it first. There was a trace of a smile on his lips as he remembered. "I was lost or something, and she just came right up and-" He cut off suddenly as his brain caught up to what he was saying. Sienna Dyer. Cerulean hadn't talked about his twin with Asher before. Asher had told him all about Connor and Maisie, and about Stella, who might as well have been another sister. But Cerulean hadn't offered anything about Sienna, and Asher hadn't asked. Like the rest of District 8, Asher knew what had happened to Sienna, and like most of District 8, he couldn't imagine how painful something like that would be for Cerulean. Scratching the back of his neck, Asher slowly turned his gaze back to Cerulean, wary of what kind of expression he'd find there. "Sorry, I don't know if it's... if she's okay to... sorry."
WC: 844 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Jan 17, 2017 14:38:59 GMT -7
Cerulean noted Asher's slight discomfort. He felt that way, too, when he first was pulled into the sector by Sienna. "Come onnnn," she insisted in the whine that never failed to make him budge. Like always, he went. It looked like the exact type of place to get mugged, raped, murdered, or maybe all three. There was an undeniable gloom hanging over the place, the ghost of a sector forgotten. But Cerulean soon found that it was almost always empty, save for the occasional building dotting the barren landscape. It was a comforting emptiness, which was the whole reason he liked it. Sienna would sometimes sneak bottles of wine or cigarettes from their parents and drag them out there. Everywhere else, there were loads of people demanding attention and energy. It was much easier to be with Sienna in the quiet darkness. When Asher spoke about Sienna, he immediately did what everyone else did when her name came up. He stopped talking. People made quite a few assumptions, a frequent one being that he didn't want to talk about his sister. And at first, he didn't. But after a year of dead silence, it started to feel like she only existed in his memories. When Asher apologized, Cerulean frowned a little. He knew the subject of his dead sister was an awkward topic, but he didn't want to be considered so unapproachable about it. He smiled softly and reassuringly, or at least attempted to. "It's okay," Cerulean said, and it was. He continued to walk. He bit st the inside of his cheek for a moment before gaining the courage to speak. "I mean, it's kind of a relief to hear that someone else remembers Sienna for anything else other than the Games." The whole district had been in a near uproar. She was the first death of the Games, brutally slain by a massive career tribute to 2. It was terribly unmatched and from the second that the boy descended on her in the bloodbath, all muscle and sword and power, it was clear that she had no chance. The Games were all anyone remembered anymore. It was the first time he had said her name since the Games, he realized. The thought sent ripples of emotion running through him. Cerulean inhaled deeply. He was finally moving on, going on his first date and accepting himself, but it was almost as if his grief insisted upon wrecking what he was building for himself, striking when he least expected it. It his was turn to apologize. "Sorry," he murmured. He hadn't meant to get so serious. At the corner of the street, Cerulean turned to see the large brown brick building. It was the largest and most complete in the entire sector. One of the buildings in the complex had crumbled entirely, leaving three others standing like gravestones. "Uh, so this is our stop," Cerulean said. Thoughts of Sienna still weighed heavily on his mind. He approached the building, immediately finding the fire escape right where he remembered it. Cerulean pushed against the metal of the ladder with a single foot, testing its strength. The metal creaked quietly, but it still felt sturdy enough. Cerulean looked back to Asher and smiled despite himself, hoping there was some way to salvage the date. "Hope you don't mind climbing," Cerulean said. Tags: Asher ReynoldsNotes: don't mind the mobile post |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Jan 18, 2017 16:04:39 GMT -7
Asher really wasn't sure how Cerulean would take the mention of his dead twin sister. He had no context by which to measure it. Bad things had happened to Asher, sure, but no one close to him had just up and died. No one he loved had been run through with a sword on live television. But eventually it would come out that Asher had known Sienna a little, and he'd liked her. Not talking about her while going on dates with Cerulean felt like lying somehow, and he didn't like that. Sienna had just had one of those infections personalities it was impossible not to like. He didn't how Cerulean handled with missing her though, only knew from the whispers in the factory that he used to be a bit more outgoing and happier. So, when Cerulean responded by saying "it's okay," Asher let out a long breath of relief. He continued to walk next to the other boy, holding off on saying more for just a little bit longer. Cerulean still looked a little hesitant, but when he went on, Asher knew he could probably take his word for it. Asher shook his head when no Cerulean tried to apologize, although Asher wasn't entirely sure what for. "No, don't be sorry. Your sister was awesome. When I was pretending to be straight, she's the kind of girl I thought I should probably have a crush on." Realizing that might be a little too much to tell his current date, he quickly went on. "I mean, I was like 10, just lost out here after my stupid half brother abandoned me to get wasted with his friends. This pretty little girl just pops out of nowhere, grabs my hand, and pulls me into a game of Truth or Dare in that warehouse with some other giggly girls. Then Sienna walked me back to the familiar side of town as easily as if she had a map of the whole district in her head." It had been a strange day all around - having to spend it with Connor instead of Maisie and having this girl come up to him in a seemingly empty and depressing place - which was what made it so memorable. They turned a corner to stand in front of what looked like the most complete of the remaining buildings in this area. Cerulean proclaimed it their destination, and Asher looked up at it with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. It was huge, and at least it looked less ominous than its crumbling cousins. He wasn't sure he could see its appeal, but maybe inside it had some cool old factory stuff, or some of Cerulean's old stuff that he wanted to show Asher. If Sienna had used to come here all those years ago, it probably meant Cerulean did too, right? He hadn't even considered going up the building though until Cerulean walked over and tested a metal fire escape ladder. "Climbing? No. Falling to my death when this thing disintegrates into rust? I mind a little." His eyes traveled up the ladder, trying to decide how sturdy the thing was. It probably wouldn't kill them, he decided. He had to assume that Cerulean had climbed this ladder more than once and the thing had held. Besides, he didn't have a fear of heights and always took on a challenge when it was presented to him. He looked back at Cerulean. "But I trust my life to your capable hands, so lead on." He grinned and walked forward to follow Cerulean up the ladder.
WC: 598 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Jan 18, 2017 20:12:17 GMT -7
Cerulean listened to Asher’s story with widened eyes. He could envision the way Sienna looked, young and excited and exactly like an adventure waiting to happen. Her attitude was no less than infectious. It always drew the best out of him, made him feel like he was more than he actually was - more likable, more interesting, more alive - and he knew that she always managed to draw a similar reaction out of everyone else he encountered. It twisted his heart to think about her like that again. During the short years she’d been given, Sienna radiated life in everything she did. At the funeral, he heard someone whisper some words to his parents that were perhaps meant as condolence: “the candles with the brightest and largest flames are also the ones that burn out the fastest.” Though Cerulean’s heart twist in his chest, he smiled at Asher’s memory. It sounded exactly like Sienna. It felt strange, talking about Sienna after being silent for so long. Cerulean desperately didn’t want to ruin any chance he had with Asher. He was sure there was talk about him and who he used to be before the Games. Really, he was fortunate that Asher had any interest in him at all, all things considered. Cerulean didn’t want to reinforce any stereotype he’d been given. He inhaled deeply and leaned his head back into the air for a moment, trying to regain the breath the wasn’t aware he lost. Despite the heavy topic, he still felt lighter. The air filled his lungs and calmed his raging thoughts. He exhaled and looked back at Asher. “Thank you,” he said, knowing that he didn’t need to give much more explanation than that. At the ladder, Cerulean grinned. “I’m higher on this thing, so if you go down, I’ll go down with you,” he laughed. Cerulean climbed the ladder quickly, his feet remembering the exact place of the rungs. His tight khakis made the climbing a little less than comfortable, but he handled it. Soon, he pulled himself over the top of the building. The ladder spanned up multiple stories of building, stopping at the metal roof. Cerulean leaned over the edge of the roof and offered a hand out to Asher. “See?” he smiled, “Capable hands.” Cerulean helped Asher onto the roof, then stepped back himself. He didn’t realize that he forgot to drop Asher’s hand. From their height, Cerulean could see quite a bit of the center city. The eastern part of the sector was on a higher elevation than the rest, offering a phenomenal view of the city. Cerulean felt a jolt at the sight. Typically, the city was far too polluted to see anything. But the dead stillness of the abandoned factories offered clean and open air. He could see the lights of the city. Cerulean’s smile widened into a beam. The sight always took his breath away. It was still as dazzling as he remembered. Cerulean’s heart pounded but he still managed to squeeze Asher’s hand. “See?” he asked, his voice not much louder than a whisper. His breath hitched in his throat as he remembered exactly why it was his favorite place in the District. Cerulean tilted his head back, and above him, he could see specks of light dotting the black canvas of the night sky. It was the only place in the entire district he ever saw them. It somehow seemed significant that when he finally managed to face the stars that Sienna had picked out for him all those years ago, Asher was the one beside him. Words: 620 Tags: Asher Reynolds |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Jan 19, 2017 15:41:44 GMT -7
Asher initially couldn't tell what Cerulean was thinking as he told the story of meeting Sienna. It felt good to tell it, like he was getting something off his chest that was weighing on him - even though he wasn't aware that it had been. The telling was bittersweet though, as it hit him that he wouldn't ever run into that girl with the big smile ever again. She wouldn't pop out here and pull him into a game, or wink at him from across the room at some party they were at. He hadn't known her well, not really, but it was still sad. If he felt that way, he couldn't even fathom what Cerulean felt. But at the end of it, after a breath, Cerulean thanked him, and Asher thought he understood. He gave a small smile and didn't need to say anything. The mood had picked up again a bit at the base of the ladder, an excitement in Asher's date that was contaious. "Fair point," he agreed, watching Cerulean take the first few rungs of the ladder. Letting out a breath, Asher followed after him. The metal of the ladder was cold in his hands and smelled faintly of rust, but it seemed to hold his weight pretty easily, and the creakings of shifting weight weren't worrying. It wasn't a difficult climb, but Cerulean had widened the distance between them significantly by the time Asher was nearing the top. As he was reaching the final rung, Cerulean was back to offer him a hand onto the roof. Asher laughed at the joke, letting the other boy help him up. "I never doubted."With their hands still clasped, Asher turned his gaze in the same direction Cerulean was looking. Asher's breath caught, incompletely unprepared for what he saw. It looked like the entire district was laid out before them, sprawling out as far as he could see. Yellow lights popped up from all over, and in the central city, their lights were occasionally red or blue from the signs. What was most surprising was how clear everything was. During the day, the air was filled with smog, and at night, you were too surrounded by buildings and darkness to notice if it was still there or not. The smog and short-sightedness were a generally accepted part of life for most residents of District 8, and Asher was pretty sure he'd never seen this much space at a single time. As his green eyes took it all in, Asher had nearly forgotten who he was with until he felt someone squeeze his hand. He smiled and let out the breath he hadn't been entirely aware he'd been holding. "Wow," he breathed, and found that there weren't really any other words he needed for that. It seemed to encompass all he needed to say, and for a boy who was quite the fan of talking, that said something. When he looked back at Cerulean, the other boy's face was turned upward. Asher followed the gaze up as well, and a blanket of stars was spread out before them. He'd seen the occasional star from his window before, on clearer nights in the winter. He wasn't much for looking up in general, but one might wink up from the blackness outside his bedroom window from time to time. Never had he seen so many stretched out like this, bright and twinkling above them. The district was pretty, laid out below them, but it was home to places he knew; above was a mystery. Asher found himself sinking down, pulling gently on Cerulean's hand as an indication that he should follow. "I think I get it now," Asher said, laying back against the roof. The roof was probably filthy and Asher had on some of his nicest clothes, but he couldn't care less about that. He smiled as he looked up, feeling Cerulean close to him. "Have there always been this many of them? I feel like someone's been holding out on me my whole life. God, who knows what else is up there."
WC: 682 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
|
District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
|
Post by Cerulean Dyer on Jan 19, 2017 21:21:49 GMT -7
Cerulean felt an immense wave of satisfaction at Asher’s response. It was exactly what he banked on when daring to bring him here. The wonder and amazement playing out across his face was more than enough to wipe away any trace of doubt Cerulean had at bringing him to this spot. The rooftop felt almost scared, like it was some sort of hallow ground. Standing hand in hand with Asher, Cerulean felt like he was both literally and figuratively at the top of the world. Not only did he stand above everything, seeing the yellow and amber city lights like little dots on the landscape, but he felt more high and happy than he had in a long time. Usually, Cerulean felt a creeping sense of loneliness that would strike and crush him at the strangest of moments: walking home from work, sitting at diner, laying and staring at his ceiling at night… Asher’s presence was exhilarating. It made him feel like a person all over again instead of some sort of work machine. Now fixated on the more natural lights of the universe, Cerulean easily complied when Asher tugged him downwards. One summer, he and Sienna came to this very roof almost every single night, but even then, he never managed to get tired of the stars. Cerulean’s back pressed into the rough and rusted metal underneath him. “Yeah?” Cerulean responded. The roof was cold underneath him and somehow, that was enough justification for him to slide a little closer to Asher. He stared up into the endless, infinite darkness with Asher. It was a sky full of possibility. Though he realized Asher probably meant his question to be rhetorical, Cerulean still answered. “A few years ago, Sienna and I, we sort of broke into this really old school we found sitting vacant. We saw it all by itself, and of course she wanted to see it, so she drug me over to shake the door. The chain on the doors was so rusted that it snapped in half, and in her mind, that was enough to justify that we weren’t technically breaking in.” He paused for a moment, remembering exactly what they said. “See, Ceru! It’s open! We’re not breaking and entering now, just entering!”
“Sienna…” he said, the tone in his voice a lot less serious than what he shot for, “you’d go in anyways, even if we were breaking and entering.”
“But we aren’t, Ceru, so it’s fine,” Sienna said with that dazzling smile of hers. “Now, come on. I want to see what’s inside.” “Anyways,” he continued, interrupting his own memory, “we found these really, really old science textbooks from before the Dark Days. There were pictures there, and it talked about people flying to the moon and to other planets. I’m not sure if I believe it or not, but I think I want to.” With his free hand, Asher reach up, almost as if to touch the stars above him. “In a way, I guess, maybe someone is holding out on us,” his voice was quieter than before, because in the wrong company, his words could be taken to mean rebellion. They felt incredibly strong to admit on a first date, even stronger than his dead twin sister. Cerulean supposed that it was just Asher, though, because with him, words just slipped out. He was quiet for a moment, tracing his finger between the stars. “There’s another book I found there. It was called the Little Prince. I didn’t tell anyone - not even Sienna - but I took it home with me and read it. There’s this part in it that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since.” Cerulean closed his eyes. He could practically see the faded words in their black ink typed across the moth eaten pages. “‘You - you alone will have the stars as no one else has them… In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of the stars I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night.. You - only you- will have stars that can laugh.’” Cerulean opened his eyes, staring straight into the abyss of stars that twinkled and, by some romantic extension, even laughed like the book said. “I think about that every time I see them now.” Words: 780 Tags: Asher ReynoldsNotes: I have no idea what happened here. Also, sorry about me fingerling over the Little Prince. Can you tell that it’s my favorite book? |
|
District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
|
Post by Asher Reynolds on Jan 24, 2017 9:21:23 GMT -7
It was soothing to listen to Cerulean's voice as Asher looked at the stars. Asher settled in against the cold metal of the roof, feeling Cerulean's warmth along one side of him, and listened. It seemed like bringing up Sienna had opened up a whole new avenue, breaking down a barrier between them. The date had started rocky, had gotten better as their meal had progressed, and seemed to only be getting stronger. It hadn't gone like Asher had thought it might, and that was for the better. He hadn't known exactly what he was getting himself into, going after someone as well-known and wealthy as Cerulean Dyer, but he'd assumed it meant fancy restaurants and expensive outings. He wouldn't have minded that, as if came with the territory when you were dating someone new that you had to be open to what they liked and wanted. Instead, while the ambiance of Rosewood had some nice perks, he didn't think Cerulean would have minded if they were there or one of Asher's favorite burger joints. On top of that, when Cerulean had taken Asher to the date's second location, it had been in the most unexpected, least expensive place Asher could have possibly guessed in the entire district. As Cerulean spoke, Asher could picture the twins breaking into the old school. It was a little strange, because while he was sure he'd seen Cerulean with his sister at some points, he mostly knew them separately. They were two separated people in Asher's own history, but of course they'd spent a ton of time together. Probably most of their time, really, being twins and growing up with parents that were oh-so-huggable as the Dyers. Though, the Dyer parents could have been extra cuddly at home for all Asher knew. As the story progressed, Asher's brow furrowed a little. "People flying around up there?" he repeated, raising a hand halfway to indicate the bed of stars above them. "I'd like to see that book, though it sounds more like a scary story." He wasn't sure if he wanted to believe something like that either, because it seemed impossible that anyone could leave the ground and go up that high. But it also sounded amazing, like something he'd do if anyone ever came up to him with the hovercraft or flying whatever and told him to hop in. He'd want to see what was up there. There was a short silence, and then Cerulean kept talking. There was a soft smile on Asher's lips when Cerulean mentioned he hadn't even told his sister about this second book. Cerulean trusted him with this secret, and Asher wasn't even sure why. He didn't know why Cerulean trusted him with anything, or took him to this place that was so special to him, or seemed to be so entirely with Asher when they were together. Whatever the reason, Asher was glad of it, because he was falling hard. He turned his head to look at Cerulean as the other boy quoted from the book, his eyes closed. Cerulean looked so lost in the words, in a good kind of way, and for a moment Asher wondered if he every felt anything so deeply as Cerulean did right now. Poetic lines and quiet nights on rooftops weren't Asher's normal MO, but he liked the idea of getting lost in it as Cerulean was. Asher brought up their clasped hands and kissed the back of Cerulean's hand, still looking over at him. He wasn't sure he understood all of those words Cerulean had said about someone living in the stars, but he knew it was beautiful and deep. There was so much Asher could have done or said in that moment, with the emotions gushing around inside him, but he knew it was too early. He knew he had to be careful, like he hadn't been with Ben. He wanted to break down all of the barriers between them, to forget himself in the ocean that was the boy next to him, but not yet. Not yet. "You're the only one who's given me the stars," he said, smiling, "so I'll have them like no one else has them too." He watched Cerulean a moment longer, the other boy's face half in shadow and half in light. Their faces were close, so close it would have been no effort to kiss him - but he didn't. He would before the night was done, but right now, that electric charge between them was pretty delicious in itself. Then Asher looked back up at the night sky, letting out a breath as he thought about how everything up there was changing everything down here.
WC: 783 Tag: Cerulean DyerNotes: I loved it! This might be a kind of pretty place to end the thread, unless you wanted to keep it going. |
|
