lyrasilverspring

[lyrasilverspring]

merrit-greenside​:

It took a moment for her words to register with him. He gotten lost in the Jinwu, its tranquillity and natural movement calmed him and he often let his mind cut out everything else as it wandered. 

“Uh, sure, show me” he replied, intrigued by Lyra’s proposition. 

She gently took his hands in hers, and stepped slightly closer, into his space.

“It’s important to make smooth, flowing shapes with all of your body,” she led him through a series of twists, spinning around him, and guiding him into the softer shapes of nature. 

She moved them faster and faster, till the end of the dance, at which point she let go of his hands. She smiled as she span away from him and finished in a familiar contortion, right leg straight up behind her, arms swept up and back past it, head turned straight up to the ceiling. She held it for a few seconds before letting her limbs fall into a more relaxed stance.

“Thank you for doing that with me,” she grinned, “We don’t often do it, only at times of great change- the turning of the season, a birth, or a death,” her face calmed slightly, “In some ways, this is all three. It- It is used to encourage the guiding energy of the world to move through us, to reconnect to the muscles in our bodies and refind a home in our forms. If you listen, it will help you in these coming days.”

She knew her eyes were watching him with an uncomfortable intensity, but she couldn’t help it. This was an important and valuable gift, but only if he understood that.

[lyrasilverspring]

fortwest​:

Fort saw the panic and unease spread across her face and suddenly felt bad about changing the subject so abruptly, though still didn’t like that she was asking so much. “It’s fine,” he said in what he hoped was a nonchalant voice. “I just… Yeah I’m honestly trying not to think about it ‘till I have to. I’d sort of,” he gritted his teeth and breathed in through them, “just decided to stop training. Yikes.” Fort laughed awkwardly.

He strolled over to the games cabinet, choosing to end that particular conversation right there. “Let’s do it.” He opened the cabinet door and peered in. He supposed a few of them were games from the Districts, because he didn’t recognise them all.  “Any of these strike your fancy?” Fort turned to Lyra, still stood awkwardly backwards, and tried to smile in a way that announced a truce.

Lyra looked them over with a slight frown. She didn’t really... play games.

“I don’t really know how to play any of these games, I’m afraid you’d have to pick and explain one to me,” she bit her lip, again causing problems by being unusual.

She stepped forwards slightly with a small smile though, trying to ease the tension she’d created. Trying to be less other, something she wasn’t well practiced in.

“Which one do you want to play?”

[lyrasilverspring]

poppy-fitch​:

“I didn’t think there was anything that was beyond the Capitol.“ 

Poppy was rapt, paying attention to Lyra’s explanation. Without even realizing it, her hands had drifted away from her glass and to her sides, balled in fists. Her fingernails left little half-moon marks on the inside of her palm. This far-away forest made her dare to hope, maybe just a bit.

Lyra herself was strange, but in a brave way. Her life had been unconventional. She didn’t play by societal rules. Maybe she would even avoid being able to play the Games’ rules, somehow. Yet underneath all Poppy’s current awe, there was a hint of jealousy. She wished she could be more like Lyra in that way.

“If the District doesn’t control it, can’t some of you run away and escape?“

Lyra watched sadly as ribbons of turquoise threaded through the girl’s colours.

“The excess trees cannot be exploited by the Capitol, but the people can, and so are. Were we to run to the trees the Capitol would burn them to the ground to retake their workers,” Lyra sighed, “What my family do with the forest is something we make time for around the lives the Capitol require us to lead. We still must partake in the felling, the growing, the turning of trees into lumber and all it entails.”

The girl was interesting, timid but quick to flashes of bold colours in ways one might not expect. She had listened so passionately to Lyra’s words that her whole physicality had become tense. It was not the type of interaction Lyra was accustomed to.

“I also imagine it is easier for small infractions to be overlooked the further you are from the Capitol’s gaze. We are almost exactly between the Capitol and district thirteen, and were heavily weakened in the last rebellion, it grants us some blind spots other places might not,” Lyra reasoned.

While it may have been frowned upon for a lower district to speak of their privileges to a Career district, Lyra meant what she said. In her opinion, the further one was from the gaze of those in power, the better. Unfortunately, in this moment, she was being brought into their spotlight. She just had to trust in the energies that moved her and stick to the path.

[lyrasilverspring]

Lyra fought back the urge to argue that a glyph of peace was far from a burden. She seemed to be calming, and Lyra had no interest in riling her up again. She let herself relax slightly, though keeping her feet to the floor in case she had to run.

“Fire is a very powerful force,” Lyra considered, “It can be deadly and ravaging, but also healing and cleansing. Some things need to be burned out, some new growth requires flames to find its footing. Fire, used for good is a beautiful thing.”

Lyra let herself maintain eye contact as she answered, watching the woman’s eyes.

lyrasilverspring​:

Lyra slowly looked up again. The girl’s colours had calmed to a green far too quickly. They’d been rioting and now they were still. It didn’t make sense. There was no way she should have been able to move from such vibrant chaos to easy calm.

“It was a glyph of peace,” she said, “Meant only to soothe. And it’s not magic, just intention. It’s meant to help you back to your path, not direct you in any specific way. And none of what I do is harmful, I’m not a witch, I’ve never hurt anyone.”

While Dahlia seemed to have calmed down, Lyra didn’t trust it, not fully. She didn’t look back down, but she kept her back against the wall and kept an eye out for any movement with aggressive intentions.

“Well, next time you wish to burden me with one of your glyphs, give me some warning so I know what’s coming.” Dahlia stretched her arms out in front of her, swaying slightly and closing her eyes. The heat of the sauna felt good against her skin.

“You know, in District Six it’s rather cold, so I do enjoy anything that brings me warmth.” She reached her arms upwards, stretching them as far they would go, and then let them drop to her side. “Like fire. I like fire.”

She whipped her head around to look at Lyra once more.

“Do you like fire?”

[lyrasilverspring]

Lyra immediately reached down to help her up. The girl’s wrist seemed to be the problem so she easily slipped her arm around Savanna’s waist and helped pull her up to her feet before stepping back again. 

Lyra shrugged, “This train is going to the Capitol with all of us in it regardless. It’s better not to get lost in the possibilities when we can’t know the truth and it doesn’t make a difference anyway.”

One of the tricks to walking the path was to not get distracted by the peripheral displays of intrigue and wonder- they were all lies.

“What’s it like in district twelve?” she was slowly building up a picture of what it was like across the districts, tribute by tribute.

lyrasilverspring​:

The blend of lilac and navy in her colours suggested that she was, in fact, in pain, but Lyra managed to hold back the comment sitting on her tongue. There was probably a reason she was lying, and there had already been enough conversational mistakes Lyra had stumbled into.

“It’s nice to meet you too, what district are you from?” Lyra considered the situation, “Would you like some help standing up? This is a very unexpected turn of events.”

She placed the last shard gently on a surface, watching it for a second to make sure it wasn’t about to fly off again.

“I’m sure someone in charge is very frustrated about what’s happened tonight,” her eyes automatically drifted upwards, as if they would reveal some higher power, but she forced them back down to the girl on the floor.

“District Twelve,” Savanna told the girl easily. It was a common question lately and she knew a lot of people in the Capitol would judge them all for it. “And yes,” she confessed figuring maybe she would need the help up and it was nice of Lyra to offer.

She nodded. “Oh, I am sure they’re a little more than frustrated.” You didn’t have to be in that room to know someone was cursing and pacing up and down at the events. “Any ideas on what’s happening out there and who’s behind it.” Savanna doubted they would ever know truly what was going on. “I mean almost feels like someone’s trying to stop the train.”

[lyrasilverspring]

The blend of lilac and navy in her colours suggested that she was, in fact, in pain, but Lyra managed to hold back the comment sitting on her tongue. There was probably a reason she was lying, and there had already been enough conversational mistakes Lyra had stumbled into.

“It’s nice to meet you too, what district are you from?” Lyra considered the situation, “Would you like some help standing up? This is a very unexpected turn of events.”

She placed the last shard gently on a surface, watching it for a second to make sure it wasn’t about to fly off again.

“I’m sure someone in charge is very frustrated about what’s happened tonight,” her eyes automatically drifted upwards, as if they would reveal some higher power, but she forced them back down to the girl on the floor.

lyrasilverspring​:

“My name is Lyra,” she answered calmly, pulling shards of pottery from her hair. 

When the train had come to a sudden stop she’d managed to slow her fall enough to avoid injury, but had landed on a shattered vase. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but was largely unbothered. They were moving again, this hesitation had been nothing in the grand scheme of things.

“Are you okay?” she hadn’t met this tribute yet, but the girl was sitting on the floor, so maybe she was injured, “What is your name?”

“I’d say nice to meet you…” Savanna had to laugh slightly at the absurd situation they found themselves in at the current moment. “Ah, well, it’s still nice to meet you Lyra.” She said because her fellow tribute was as innocent in all of this as the rest of them were.

She breathed threw her teeth for a moment. “I am fine.” Her wrist was killing her, but Savanna wasn’t about to admit that. Part of her recalled that her father had always advised her to never show weakness to someone that could use it against you later. “I’m Savanna.”

[lyrasilverspring]

fortwest​:

Fort walked over to the window beside his chair and peered out of it at the landscape rushing past, before turning back to Lyra and smiling, though a little uncomfortable. She was prying in areas he had been actively trying not to think since his name was called. In truth he had no idea what it meant to him to be a career, if he could ever have really called himself that. Did he want to win? Not especially. He had little to return to. But he had been so prepared by the people around him he almost felt an obligation to at least try. Fort’s head hurt, and not just from hitting it against the doorframe.

“I don’t even know what wanting to win would feel like.” Fort hiccoughed. “When I loved training it was never really because of the games – it was just,” he shrugged and stumbled back into his chair, “something to do. It was when I clicked into what was really happening that I started to lose interest.” Fort hadn’t thought about himself and his purpose in such depth in so long that the words even seemed a surprise to him.

He consciously fought the urge to twiddle his thumbs nervously, looking around for something to change the topic. He didn’t want to leave her company – he found her pleasant enough when they weren’t talking about him too much. With a grin Fort spotted the games cabinet – “Wanna play something?”

Fort’s colours soured in greys and Lyra felt the sting in the back of her head. She’d done something wrong again. She was making him uncomfortable and she didn’t mean to. 

“Why do you want to spend time with me, I’m making you uncomfortable?” the question left her mouth before she’d fully thought about it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

She winced a little, stepping back slightly. She wasn’t very good at spending extended periods around people like this.

“I mean, I’d love to play, if you still want to?”

[lyrasilverspring]

“My name is Lyra,” she answered calmly, pulling shards of pottery from her hair. 

When the train had come to a sudden stop she’d managed to slow her fall enough to avoid injury, but had landed on a shattered vase. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but was largely unbothered. They were moving again, this hesitation had been nothing in the grand scheme of things.

“Are you okay?” she hadn’t met this tribute yet, but the girl was sitting on the floor, so maybe she was injured, “What is your name?”

Cradling her injured wrist, Savanna stood up and glanced around until she heard the noise; a pop, pop, pop. Gunfire. It wasn’t a sound she had heard back in District Twelve too often, but it had been common in District Two, especially considering her father was a Peacekeeper and a former soldier. When she had been ten, he had tried teaching her, so she could be familiar but Savanna hadn’t wanted to touch the gun.

Instinctively, she ducked as the rounds clipped the side of the window. Who would be shooting at the train and who were they aiming at? Even after the emergency lights came on, Savanna found herself still sitting propped up against the wall. It was silly to still be scared, there were now shutters on the windows, but who to say the people outside wouldn’t come onto the train?

“Who’s there?” She asked softly hearing footsteps in the darkened hall associated with a shadowy form approaching.

[lyrasilverspring]

Lyra slowly looked up again. The girl’s colours had calmed to a green far too quickly. They’d been rioting and now they were still. It didn’t make sense. There was no way she should have been able to move from such vibrant chaos to easy calm.

“It was a glyph of peace,” she said, “Meant only to soothe. And it’s not magic, just intention. It’s meant to help you back to your path, not direct you in any specific way. And none of what I do is harmful, I’m not a witch, I’ve never hurt anyone.”

While Dahlia seemed to have calmed down, Lyra didn’t trust it, not fully. She didn’t look back down, but she kept her back against the wall and kept an eye out for any movement with aggressive intentions.

lyrasilverspring​:

Lyra immediately made herself smaller,  body pressed back into the wood, hands raised. She’d heard that word thrown at her before and knew that the situation could quickly turn aggressive.

“I’m not a witch, I don’t mean you any harm, and I’ve never hurt anyone,” it was a phrase she’d picked up a long time ago, and it left her mouth without thinking.

The other tributes had relaxed her too much, made her forget that people didn’t like her rituals or her practices. She spared a glance up towards the door, but she’d have to move closer to Dahlia to get there. Instead she pressed herself back into the corner of the room, kept her eyes trained on the floor just before Dahlia- no eye contact but she’d see if Dahlia lunged at her.

“I’ve never heard of you dynasty and I have no interest in it. I’m not a witch, I don’t mean you any harm, and I’ve never hurt anyone.”

Dahlia instantly relaxed at the girls words, giving her a nonchalant shrug and settling back on the bench once more. She had no reason to doubt this girl - by all standards this girl had to be about as honest as Dahlia was, and that was something she could work with.

“What did the sign mean?” She asked, tracing the same pattern Lyra had made on her hand moments before. “Magic doesn’t often work on me because of my powerful lineage. Although I do believe my husband may have died to a curse, so one can never be too careful.”

[lyrasilverspring]

Lyra immediately made herself smaller,  body pressed back into the wood, hands raised. She’d heard that word thrown at her before and knew that the situation could quickly turn aggressive.

“I’m not a witch, I don’t mean you any harm, and I’ve never hurt anyone,” it was a phrase she’d picked up a long time ago, and it left her mouth without thinking.

The other tributes had relaxed her too much, made her forget that people didn’t like her rituals or her practices. She spared a glance up towards the door, but she’d have to move closer to Dahlia to get there. Instead she pressed herself back into the corner of the room, kept her eyes trained on the floor just before Dahlia- no eye contact but she’d see if Dahlia lunged at her.

“I’ve never heard of you dynasty and I have no interest in it. I’m not a witch, I don’t mean you any harm, and I’ve never hurt anyone.”

lyrasilverspring​:

Lyra smiled softly, leaning forward and taking the girl’s hand and reaching her thumb up to trace a glyph of peace onto the back of Dahlia’s hand, “Your colours are very loud.”

She turned back to the steaming element and added a sprig of lavender she’d found in one of the many floral arrangements along the train. Dahlia would benefit from the extra soothing.

“Well I hardly know you, but it is my experience that in lineages each is able to move further along the path, continuing from the steps her predecessor took,” Lyra felt a dash of sadness at the thought- her own successor would have little to gain from her brief time, “So it stands to reason that you would be greater than the Dahlias that came before you. Though I should imagine your goal would be to put the next Dahlia in the best position to reach even greater heights than you have.”

Dahlia pulled her hand back quickly as she felt the girl trace some strange and unknown symbol on her skin, her eyes widening in horror. Suddenly it all made sense to her. Why the girl was in here with her flowers and herbs, why the girl had an almost dreamlike state about her. Not to mention the words that next came out of Lyra’s mouth, words that Dahlia was sure had some dual-meaning she had yet to figure out.

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” Dahlia said, sliding along the bench she was sat on to create space between her and Lyra. “You wish to take the Dahlia Sol dynasty and ruin it!”

She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

“I’ll have you know that you’ll need more than witchcraft to take my crown.”

[lyrasilverspring]

fortwest​:

“Sounds like an interesting job. I didn’t even know that kind of work existed.” Hiccough. Fort was entranced as she spoke. She really did carry something of the forest about her – a dense forest where sounds were dampened and the shade of the trees was cool. Or so he imagined. He’d never ventured far from the metropolitan hub of his district, and even the forests in the outlying ‘countryside’ weren’t the dense wooded swathes of land he imagined in Seven. “So you like…” he thought of stories he’d read as a child, “keep balance between the forest and people?” He was fascinated by a life so different to his own.

Fort reached down to his plate and realised, sadly, that he had finished his pastries. He stood and moved over to the food table again, trying hard not to bump into anything, and picked up fruit tart. He leaned back against the table as he thought her question over, processing slowly.

“There isn’t much to know,” he shrugged. “I train during the week when I wake up in time to get to my coaching session. Most nights I go downtown or to a friends’ house. This time of year there are a lot of pool parties. Sometimes we go down to the river and swim, or smoke in the park.” His voice was flat as he spoke – he thought he must be boring her immensely. He raised the fruit tart to his lips and almost took a bite, but paused. “I used to love training, but I think I just realised we were still just a district even if we were rich.” He popped the tart into his mouth.

“Something like that,” Lyra shrugged, figuring the matter was too intricate to fully explain in this conversation, “You don’t seem to care much for the life you led.”

His colours were running navy and beige, slowly blotting out the green he’d acquired. His attitude to his own life was confusing- it didn’t make sense to Lyra. If you didn’t feel some sort of driving purpose, how did you keep moving forward? He spoke  as if he was describing another person, as if he’d been watching himself from a distance all these years.

“What does it mean to you to be a career in the games now, if the training lost its meaning to you?” her eyes watched his, “Does being here re-ignite that desire to win?”

[lyrasilverspring]

“It’s nice to meet you August,” Lyra smiled gently, “I’m from district seven, lumber.”

Lyra could see why August liked the dress, it was... classic and palatable. Much like the persona August seemed to be pushing. Though normally there was an edge of orange to people trying to be someone else, August had an earnestness to her. The kind that came with years of almost being enough and wanting nothing more than to be enough, and never being told that she was.

“You seem like a very nice person,” Lyra offered, “What is it like in district ten?”

lyrasilverspring​:

“Hello,” this was a new tribute, one with an unusual blend of grey and turquoise, “My name is Lyra what is your name?”

Lyra stood and turned to face her fully, noticing the awkward twitching of fingers. The girl seemed… young, though when one looked past the expressions and at the actual face, she probably was a similar age to Lyra. Her eyes were wide and somewhat frantic, matching the pace of her speech, but that turquoise remained determinedly. It was either admirable or naive, but Lyra hadn’t heard enough to make that judgement.

She suddenly realised she had been paid a compliment and should respond in kind, “Thank you. Your dress is nice. What district are you from?”

“I’m August, like the month. It’s my favorite month, also, so it fits.” The first thing August noticed about Lyra was just how calm she seemed to be. It almost made her feel more anxious. 

August let out a quick laugh, smoothing out her dress again over her thighs.  “Thank you. I wanted to look nice for the tv and all.” It was her favorite dress, a pretty light blue with white lace. Like a doll, her mama had told her. 

“I’m from District Ten. That’s the one with animals,” she said with a sharp nod. “Where are you from?”

[lyrasilverspring]

augustmayne​:

lyrasilverspring​:

After a thorough investigation of the train, Lyra had found a relatively small carriage with a beautiful skylight that revealed the night’s stars. Deciding to set up shop for her night’s vigil, she calmly collected arrangements from the neighbouring carriages, bringing their fading lives into the space. She hadn’t managed to find uncut plants, which was… upsetting, but there was nothing she could do, so she continued.

She’d also managed to source some oil from the food cart after trying a few avoxes. It wasn’t quite what she’d used at home, but close enough that it should serve the purpose. She calmly redistributed the flowers, balancing the energies to create a stronger circle. Then, she slicked her hands with the oil and began to run them through her hair, waiting till each strand was coated before sectioning it out. As she twisted her hair into tight braids she thought of the trees, the people, the district she’d left behind. She thought about the path, the energy moving through her that would guide her even in her elders’ absence, that even when she no longer walked the path, the next Woodmaiden would. Her last braid, she gave to the tributes she’d met that day, and all that they had left behind, and all that they had yet to face. It seemed appropriate since one of them had, at this point, been watching her for some time.

“Good evening,” she offered to the silent figure behind her, not turning to face them.

“Hi, there.” August gave an awkward wave before dropping her hands to her side, realizing the other girl didn’t see her. “I didn’t mean to spy on you.” She shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with her dress when the girl didn’t turn towards her.

“Your braids are real pretty. My mama used to braid my hair too, but I’m not that good at it. She’d always braid it in the summer so that it wouldn’t get too frizzy, you know? Frizzy hair isn’t pretty.” She laughed nervously, twisting a strand of her hair around her own finger. “But your hair’s pretty.”

“Hello,” this was a new tribute, one with an unusual blend of grey and turquoise, “My name is Lyra what is your name?”

Lyra stood and turned to face her fully, noticing the awkward twitching of fingers. The girl seemed... young, though when one looked past the expressions and at the actual face, she probably was a similar age to Lyra. Her eyes were wide and somewhat frantic, matching the pace of her speech, but that turquoise remained determinedly. It was either admirable or naive, but Lyra hadn’t heard enough to make that judgement.

She suddenly realised she had been paid a compliment and should respond in kind, “Thank you. Your dress is nice. What district are you from?”

[lyrasilverspring]

fortwest​:

Fort took another pastry and closed his eyes as Lyra spoke, already trying to picture the dappled light of a forest before she’d even started. There wasn’t much in the way of nature in District One, unless you counted the city parks; they closed at sundown usually, and though Fort was rarely found out of the house before sundown unless he had training, he had frequently jumped the fences to smoke until sunrise with his mates, looking up at the night through the trees. He liked the way he felt like the king of the park.

As she continued to speak, though, Fort cracked his eyes open and peeked at Lyra, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He slowly sat upright and stared at her, fighting laughter by taking a sip of water. He wasn’t laughing at her by any means, he was just struck again by how out of place they were in one another’s company. He couldn’t think of anything he’d really ever been passionate about and here she was monologuing about trees. Whatever was happening, he loved it.

Fort shrugged and smiled as she wrapped up. “I didn’t know there was so much to say about trees. I just thought they were kind of big and green, but I guess I’ve always got the sense that if trees could talk they’d be pretty smart.”

“You seem to know a lot about them. Is that standard for a district seven girl or are you just like really into trees? No judgement here,” he grinned.

Lyra carefully checked his colours, but they were.. calm. Greener even, with undertones of burgundy.

“Everyone knows about trees, but there’s a difference between knowing how grow them to cut them down, and knowing how to exist amongst them,” Lyra explained, “It’s my family’s job to be very good at the latter where others might fail.”

She looked over the district one boy. He was from a place of luxury, of manmade value- someone who shouldn’t care about what she had to say about trees. Lyra couldn’t help but be curious as to how a someone as kind as him could come from a place of metals and careers.

“There must be things that you know a lot about,” she offered, “What is it like to be you?”

She knew he’d struggled with judging what kind of person he was, but perhaps the alternate approach would help to shed some light on who Fort was.

[lyrasilverspring]

Task One- Part Two: Lyra’s Interview

Lyra had explored all the corners of the Justice Building open to her, which admittedly were few, and she’d found her favourite place. It was at the end of a corridor, by the window that stretched almost ceiling to floor, framed by two potted plants. It looked out over the district far enough that she could see the forest, and was the closest she could come to being outside.

“Miss Silverspring, we have a few questions for you,” a voice called from behind her.

She turned to see the extravagant Capitol person calmly walking down the corridor towards her. His colours were a rising sea of burgundy against a deep blue, the combination she’d come to associate with the Capitol. His clothes were also bright and jagged, clashing horribly with the swirl of his aura. By comparison, Lyra’s white dress seemed stark and empty, as if he’d absorbed all the colour from her.

“We can do it here, if you’d like,” he offered, to which Lyra simply nodded, turning so she no longer had her back to him, but still only faced him side on.

She waited whilst the cameras were set up, ignoring the quick whispered conversation about whether the backlighting from the window made her ghostly or shadowed or ethereal. Lyra had learned that the conversations others had about you were more for your sake than theirs, and so she took no interest in them.

“What constitutes the perfect date for you?” he began.

Lyra thought for a second, “It is difficult to narrow it down to just one- many dates are very important to me. The first things that come to mind are solstice and equinox, of which there are two each. They mark the natural calendar, the movement of seasons and stepping into the next stage of the life cycle, so their role is key. That said, there is something in the night of a blue moon,” she felt her gaze drift as she sank back into memories of the dances they would perform, “The sky is alive with all the hope of a second chance, and the earth seems richer beneath your feet. There isn’t really anything quite like it,” she refocused on the interviewer, “So perhaps my favourite date is that of a blue moon.”

The interviewer was careful to show little response, but Lyra still heard the snickers of the camera crew. She did not care, there was no other answer for her to give.

“What is your greatest accomplishment?”

This one was easy, “The night I finished my rites and took up my position.”

She would not tell them the details of her position- they were sacred and meant something. They were not to be thrown away in a soundbite for people who did not know what it meant to kneel before a mother tree and promise her your service. But she answered truthfully because that night had meant everything to Lyra. The moment she had been named Woodmaiden, the cycle’s continuation had been promised, the forest protected. And now, the Capitol had come to disrupt the flow in the name of violence, death and entertainment. They did not deserve to hear her title.

“Okay,” he continued awkwardly when it became clear that she was not going to elaborate, “What’s something you could teach me about?”

Lyra’s hand drifted up to the leaves above her head, almost unbidden, “How to respect the land we live in. How to exist in ways that are not harmful. How to find peace in the world around you. They are things many have forgotten.”

“That sounds nice,” the interviewer smiled, pretending not to hear the laughter from the camera crew behind him, “And what does love look like to you?”

This brought Lyra pause. It was not something she’d begun to think about yet. The time would come when she would look for someone, sure, but her focus had been on her responsibilities up to this point.

“I think… love to me is a deep connection. There are copses you can go to that look like they are covered in trees, but beneath the ground you would learn that they are in fact one organism, joined at the root. Love is like that, I think? To be two entities, able to stand apart and strong, but always bound by something deeper, something that does not need to be seen by others for them to know that it is there.”

“Surprise, surprise, she thinks love is a tree,” laughed a woman somewhat down the hall.

The interviewer hissed out a threat before turning back to face Lyra once more, “I’m sorry about them my dear, just one last question and then we’ll leave you to your day. What would you like to be remembered about you?”

Lyra sighed and answered, “The work my family do is not for celebration or recognition. It is simply right. We do not learn the names of those who come before us because we are not separate. Once we pass, our names are not spoken again- we return to the earth and become something more than an individual before the forest. We become part of the forest. In life, I would like to be known as someone who walked the path. In death, I wish only for a sense of peace and rest.”

She turned back to face the window as they packed up and went to find their next candidate. The questions had stirred up her longing to be back in the forest, and resting against the glass seemed the closest she could get.

[lyrasilverspring]

merrit-greenside​:

“That’s it, you’re not bad at this. Just do what I do.” he turned to her so his movements flowed in between hers, and her movements combined with his. It may seem like fighting, but it was more akin to dancing. “We call this Jìnwu,” he stated as they continued their movements. “When Jinwu is performed correctly, you can mirror a partner exactly, your energy becomes their energy, their movement becomes your movement. It is the power of many streams, from which a great river may flow.” he let out a small chuckle and a smile crept across his lips as he remembered those words echoed over and over again by his sensei. He’d done this many a time with Tansee.  

Lyra smiled slightly at the talk of energies. Merrit dealt in water energy, she in the energy of life itself. Both grew, but so very differently. Both were cyclical, both facts of nature itself.

As the movements shifted into something more dance-like she had to fight harder to match his style. The urge to add in small steps and flourishes became stronger. 

“If this is about combining energies, can I show you how we move to represent the energy we follow?” the question left her mouth before she could stop it.

[lyrasilverspring]

merrit-greenside​:

“i’ll take them out when I wake then.” Deciding he may as well embrace the strange tradition. Merrit stood up, gesturing for Lyra to do the same. 

“We used to do this as a warm up, a little game we would play when we first began our training. But it became more significant. Place your hands like this” he showed her a pose with both hands in front of one another, up in a guard. “Now follow my movements, slowly.” he began to slowly make phantom, open handed strikes, shifting his feet with every blow, like a dance. 

The tension in Lyra’s shoulders eased as it became clear that Merrit was being genuine. She followed him as best she could- it was an interesting experience. She’d learned to contort her body and move it in unnatural and purposeful ways, but this was combative. The movements, while beautiful, spoke of a future aggression, where her movements were for peace and life. She could see the discrepancies between the two of them, the moments where he was more angular, or she was less forceful. 

She didn’t know if she was allowed to talk, Merrit hadn’t explained that part of the tradition. Instead she focused on trying to replicate his movement, resisting the urge to arch her back more, to let her hands run across her sides. It was like an itch under her skin, to move as she had learned to, but this was a night of exchange, and she would honour this strange district five tradition.