Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 1 ~ The Flamingo Before (GF)

Garlic has learned three things since coming to the Capitol. One; they have the softest pajamas in the whole wide world. Two; he likes his steak medium rare. Three; he has an undeniable fascination with flamingos. In fact, he's so fascinated with the feathery creatures that he's wearing a pair of pajamas with their pink bodies stitched on, whilst balancing a plate of medium rare steak on his knee. It teeters precariously, for he is one bony tribute, but he manages to sneak a few bites as he picks at the birds on his clothes.

Spices and other indescribable flavors pass over his tongue in a flood that's only heightened by how it makes his mouth water. Never has he eaten something so pleasing to the senses, never has he eaten something so fulfilling. A few days of this and he'd be free of any past malnourishment, any lost meals that used to haunt him back in the district. They don't exactly offer five-star meals to beggars on the streets. The thought isn't bitter, but it makes something boil deep in his gut, something that keeps the fork from reaching his lips.

His eyes fall on the chunk of meat curiously. They're fattening me up for the slaughter. Like pigs: they raise 'em up big and fat before cutting 'em up and tossin' their cooked innards at the crazed freakazoids in the Capitol. The fork twirls amidst his fingers, fingers that look more like needles prepared to sew a mouth shut than fleshy extremities. They'd tear through the lips of the gluttons waiting outside in their fancy little homes, they'd slip in one lip and out the other, thread weaved over their teeth - and then, a tug.

Never would the gluttons eat again.

Garlic isn't quite sure where this imagery comes from, but he's learned a fourth thing during his visit: he's lost his appetite, and there's no getting it back. In fact, the very sight of a half-eaten steak on his plate threatens to push the contents of his stomach out onto his flamingo pajamas. Desperation leaks in, for he's in love with these pajamas and ruining them with semi-digested food would totally kill his mojo for the Games tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Only a few mere hours stand between now and his potential demise. Sleep refuses to greet him, and at first his assumption was that he was just hungry. Now he sees that this wasn't the case, but he denies the next idea that pops into his skull. I'm not scared. I'm Garlic Felucia, Keeper of the Streets. I'm not scared of anything.

Everything is scared of me.

Of course, that's what he's concluded from how the people on the streets look at him. Their gazes zero in on his face in disgust, a look one would give a despicable creature. The children speed past him, hopping from one end of the street to the other, but they always return. Maybe they're curious to see the monster make its next move? No words are ever exchanged between the citizens of Six and this beast that finds itself sleeping in their boats, in the train cabs, in the nooks and crannies no one ever finds.

They run him out with fire, their tongues a match. They scare him off with pitchforks, their shaking fists the points prepared to impale.

It's this image Garlic finds himself engrossed in, a film playing out on the bedroom wall. He sees himself hunkered down in the corner of a small boat. The gentle lap of waves fills his ears, the scratch of his nails mindlessly digging into the wood. He remembers - he's engraved two lines already, this is his third, representative of how many days its been that no one's caught him sleeping in this lifeboat.

Garlic doesn't know when he stands from his bed and crosses the room, he doesn't know when his plate clatters to the ground, he doesn't notice when he steps on the steak and the juices squelch against his bare feet, and he surely doesn't remember when his palm spreads over the frigid surface of the wall projecting this movie-of-sorts. It's so cold. Kinda like my depressing heart. He waits for Boat-Garlic to turn over on his side in discomfort before nodding in approval. Accurate, but I'm not impressed. The steak was better.