The Fifth Annual Writer Games: The Fall

The Fall of Troy - Females

District 1 Female – Venus Iridium

Despite Chet Jackson's unignorably loud presence, Venus Iridium spends days trapped in the silence of her own thoughts, of her own accords. It's not that she necessarily hasn't spoken: Venus loves to talk for the sake of talking, and Chet can hold conversation fairly well, no matter how the topics drift from one another at seemingly random intervals. The problem is that, for some unknown reason, she can't get out of her own mind.

Usually Venus is more than content to talk with herself—no one else can keep up with her wit and the speed of her words and the random breaks in sharp laughter and the dramatic flair that swells her voice when she reaches the climax of whatever she's saying. Usually Venus can stay quiet if a scene requires it, or if she's in the wings of the theater and she's waiting for her cue. But now she simply doesn't know what to do with herself, doesn't know why she's quiet or how to deal with being quiet.

It's the mountains, it's this cave, she's sure. They echo.

When her and Chet speak, it's done very hush hush. When they start a fire, they only keep it for so long, and only when one of them is completely awake and energized. Everything is done in silence; everything but her peace.

She can't stay here any longer.

She's an actress, darling, and the setting is at her discretion.

"Be right back," she tells Chet as she stands up.

Though they haven't known each other long, their dynamic has shifted significantly since they've arrived in the arena. Chet, like everyone else, underestimated Venus; he saw a pretty face, someone who dabbles in the arts more than they do their mind or body; he saw a simple girl from District One, the place with a growing reputation for girls such as Venus. He saw what was right in front of him, just like she wanted him to.

Then things changed, slowly but surely, just as she planned. Bit by bit she showed off skills, but only displayed herself as slightly above average, and since then he trusts her to take care of herself for a while before she's "forced" to ask for help.

When she announces that she's leaving, Chet only asks the reason, no longer asks what time she'll be back, how far out she'll go, and—most annoyingly—if she needs him to come with her. Venus tells him she's simply going to do what she always does: check on her snares.

Every time—and by every time, she means the previous and grand total of three times—she leaves behind her mountain shelter and goes to the forest, she takes a different route. Her footsteps are mostly covered by the light snowfall that comes down every night and the early hours of the day, but she can't risk it. Not because it might lead to the discovery of her shelter and the tracker could attack Chet—no not at all. It's because they might follow her steps into the forest and kill her.

This time she takes a longer path, having to trek over frozen rivers. She knows that the ice won't crack and she won't fall through and drown by cause of cold-induced shock. It would be far too boring for a firecracker like her, and her end is going to be a dramatic one—this much she knows for certain. As confident as she is that the Gamemakers won't somehow thin the ice as she walks across it, she's still cautious. She walks as close as she can to the ground, and she walks slowly.

Once she's over the frozen river—which takes about fifteen minutes, plus or minus a few—the trail to the forest is a short one, about three miles on somewhat elevated ground. Even from where she stands, the trees look huge, and as she steps closer they only get bigger. She doesn't know what type of evergreen or spruce trees are in the arena because they're absolutely massive. The ones that grow in the mountains of District One are big of course, but they're not titanic like the ones in the arena. Whatever soil is in the arena is so nutrient-rich Venus considers eating some dirt herself to become a giant and quite literally trample over her competition.