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Tonight the wall was Aero's best friend. It was there to support him through thick and thin, be there for him while he suffered yet another Capitol event. It kept him safe and isolated and innocent of the dampening world beyond it. It kept him from the element of surprise rushing up from behind him to snatch him away. It kept him from slumping over and made sure he was upright to sit and observe the circus that was Capitol life. Of course, his position to the wall went against everything the Capitol wanted him to be. They wanted him to mingle, show off that great smile of his, and breathe life into yet another sponsor party. He should have been trying to make connections, try and network so that perhaps one of his tributes would survive that year. But tonight the wall was his friend.<p>

The party was broken up into two groups: one for socializing, and another for celebration. The music bellowed from his side of the grand room, vibrating his cheeks and tousling his hair. Before him stood a wave of people ebbing and flowing to the beat in intricate patterns. The music ever shifting, but they never break apart. As soon as someone pushes their way out, another steps in. It was like watching an amoeba, all too overwhelming at the same time. There was no sole place to focus, no one person to observe. They all moved separate but as one and the more he looked, the more he felt as if he should look away.<p>

The alcohol was talking to him. Every time a waitress passed him, he had made sure to refill his glass of whatever poison was on the menu that night. He had had enough to where the walls would sway along to the beat of the music, but he was coherent. Tipsy, as it were. No one had found him yet, not the people who invited him at least. They had got what they wanted from him within his first ten minutes of arrival, and now he was just tossed to rot out the rest of the night too unsure of when or how to leave. Sometimes he managed an escape, but never one as daring as the one with Four's victor, Siren. Lately he hadn't the bother to leave, where would he go? Go drive alone for hours only to fall asleep in his car? Existence beyond the wall was about as exciting as existing within it, so he decided to stay within. At least then he could pretend he was in company of people, even if he didn't actually enjoy their company.<p>

The thought had yet occurred to him to perhaps seek out another victor. At least then he could be in the company of someone who would understand how draining events such as these could be. He couldn't have been the only victor there, but to find out would mean drifting back to the area where he would be expected to socialize.
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<font color="#d7d7d7" size=+2>✈</font><p>

This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

and just so happens to be <font color=#e4f0c7>505</font> words long.<p>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>blah hope this works</font><p>
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<div style="width: 445px; height: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding-top: 5px; font-family: times new roman; color: #FFD700; color; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000;">*---GOT A PACKAGE FULL OF WISHES---*</div>

<div style="width: 445px; height: 420px; background: rgba(218, 165, 32, 0.5); color: #1C1C1C; overflow: auto; font-family: times new roman; padding-top: 2px; line-height: 98%; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; ">Babbling idiots. All of them. Legion forced a smile onto her face and wished fervently that Oscar was there to talk to. They understood one another as only Victors could, and (she imagined) better, in some ways, than even that. Thus far she hadn’t seen any other Victors, but she imagined there were a few of them floating around, probably pressed up against the walls and desperately hoping they blended in with the décor enough that they would go unnoticed for the rest of the night. Unfortunately for them that was entirely likely, and it was more probably that they would find themselves being pulled onto the dance floor repeatedly, or being dragged into a useless conversation about the price of hard boiled eggs. The petite blonde had suffered such a fate at the last party she’d been to, after she’d been forced to retire from the dance floor for the night thanks to a heavy footed Capitolite. Tonight, however, she’d been relentlessly and mercilessly paraded about the dance floor since the beginning, and hadn’t had a chance to try and disguise herself by standing close to one of the towering buffet tables and looking at her feet.

<p>Thanking yet another tall, yet strange looking Capitolite, the woman excused herself from another dance and squeezed her way through the crowd, heading towards the wall and a server who was holding a tray full of tall, flute shaped glasses with what looked like fruit juice as their contents. It was unlikely that it actually <i>was</i> fruit juice, but Legion took a chance and availed herself of one of the glasses, taking a sip as she strategically placed a chocolate fountain between herself and the rest of the room, only to find herself shoulder to shoulder with someone she recognised – another Victor – Aeroplane? No. Aero, that was it. Aero Maglev. Glancing sideways at him, Legion offered the taller man the tiniest of smiles before speaking up. <b>”Quite the hiding spot you’ve got here.”</b> It was more than most got out of the slender woman, but she felt somewhat more at ease with other Victors than anyone else, and from what she’d heard about this one she didn’t need to worry about being flayed alive by some kid whose brain had snapped in the arena.

<p>Taking another sip of the fruity drink that (if she were quite honest with herself) had quite a high volume of alcohol in it, Legion Stark kept her eyes turned outwards toward the crowd, watching for approaching Capitolites with a well trained eye. She silently thanked whatever benevolent gods there might be that the drink was a small one, before finishing it off and placing the empty glass on a side table that wasn’t too far. Unfortunately reaching the side table required stepping out into a more public area, and Legion found herself under the scrutiny of several well known Capitolites. Not giving them the time to react she ducked behind the buffet table once more, grabbed Aero’s free hand and gave him a pleading look. <b>”I’ve been spotted… do me a favour and dance with me, and I’ll find us a way out of here. Please?”</b>
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<div style="width: 445px; height: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding-top: 5px; font-family: times new roman; color: #FFD700; color; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000;">*---AND A GLOBE MADE OUT OF GOLD---*</div>

<div style="width: 445px; height: 30px; background-color: #cfcfcf; background: rgba(207, 207, 207, 0.7); font-size: 10px; line-height: 150%; color: #8B6508;">Template: Ebz || Banner: Same
<br>Wearing: Will describe later || Words: 529 || Notes: Apologies for suckiness!!</div>

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The music was beginning to lull him closer and closer to an abyss. His eyes slipped shut, taking in the nonsensical noise that drummed out in an aesthetically pleasing pattern. He knew that the alcohol was settling in his system now, that now it threatened to lag his senses and tempt him from the realm of consciousness into the empty void of sleep. He would have denied it, but it was very possible to have passed out at that moment. Were he not in the midst of a hoard of hungry animals - capitolites pining for every once of his company - perhaps he would have welcomed the escape to nothing. Sleep for him had not been pleasant for years, even though it urged him on a constant basis. It wanted him, but he often feared what his mind would show him once his guard fell down and he began to roam. Aero could not hold back a ghost in his sleep, and they knew that. They always came for him. At least he could rest his eyes. He could ease himself out of his current situation and fall into a state between the cracks of sleep and awake.<p>

The sense of time was slowly slipping from him, only to be drawn back into the present moment without so much a gauge on how long he had been sitting there with his eyes closed. A voice stirred him, one distinctly closer than the others. The words more distinct and able to be deciphered than the rest of the chaos that filled the room. His eyebrows furrowed for a second before he opened his eyes to make the distinction. Of course, another victor. A capitolite would not have been so kind, they never were so cordial in that sense since technically he was the one with poor manners. They would simply just pluck him from his spot and throw him into the heart of the crowd once more like he was more often paid to do. Victors tended to be nicer about that sort of thing, but only because they most often happened to be in the same boat.<p>

All Aero could manage at the moment was a weak smile as he assigned and labeled the woman next to him. Legion Stark of District Four. A career district, which tended to produce more cocky victors, but she was one of the excluded from that category. She was like him, trying to bide the time and avoid all the unnecessary company. By that point in the night, he didn't really even have the energy to confront another person just like him. Usually he was so happy to see them, so eager to get away with one of them, but tonight wasn't so well. He had been on a down slope, and it was in these times of his life where he just <i>bore</i> whatever was thrown at him rather than take the risk of seeking a temporary freedom. He had been drinking as well, which didn't do so much to help his enthusiasm. Sometimes he caught himself wondering why he even bothered.<p>

But before he could get swallowed up in his own melancholic thoughts, he felt the warm hand of the woman grasping his. His attention snapped back to register the look of plea on her face. The words off her lips, through all the noise, were understood. Even if he didn't want to take such a daring feat that night, someone else did. Never would he be so selfish to decline, but what she was asking of him might have been more than he could offer. And all at once he looked alert and slightly confused, peeling himself from the wall to look out at the attention now beginning to gather from the world beyond the table. A breath of air puffed into his chest, mouth slightly agape as he now was forced to make a decision.<P>

<font color=#7CC5D9><b>"I'd love to..but I can't dance?"</b></font> he felt as if it were a weak excuse. The more he thought about it. Dancing. No one ever really asked him to dance, but it had happened before. He wasn't the best at it, nor was the style of music ever something he had been forced to dance to before. Slow dancing, sure, but not something so...upbeat. He wanted to resist, he just wanted to say no and stay in his little hole forever now. Again he looked back out and then back at her, wondering if he even had a choice in the matter. His inability to let people down when they didn't deserve it, it was almost an impossibility for him. A sigh pressed out of his lips as he began peeling himself off the wall, the delay beginning to weigh on his limbs like he'd been stirred from a much heavier sleep. Perhaps it was the alcohol easing him into a very likely embarrassing situation, it was just better not to question it because he simply just can't say <I>no</i> .

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<font color="#d7d7d7" size=+2>✈</font><p>

This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>.

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>oh dear</font><p>
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<div style="width: 445px; height: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding-top: 5px; font-family: times new roman; color: #FFD700; color; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000;">*---GOT A PACKAGE FULL OF WISHES---*</div>

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Legion could tell that Aero was just a tad intoxicated. She'd been at that point before, during plenty of Capitol parties, and she'd generally avoided the dance floor during those times with one exception - her first meeting and dance with Oscar Hendrich, during which she'd been fairly tipsy. Even considering that she'd managed to pull off a quick dance, and without Oscar really knowing how to dance either. She held high hopes for Aero as well, and as such she gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand gently. <b>"I'll help you. I promise."</b> It was a genuine promise, from someone who was known for being quiet, but above all honest. She never spoke unless she had something urgent to say, or something she'd weighed up over a long time. She never laid down a promise without being able to fulfil it.

<p>Dancing, for her, was like flying for Aero. It was freedom, pure and hedonistic freedom. For those moments on the dance floor she felt that she lost the shackles that the Capitol had clapped on her since birth. She felt as if the self imposed silence, the damped down emotions were able to be expressed through movement, as if with every minute step, every turn, every tiny shift of her hand were words. The tilt of her head, the proud set of her shoulders, the straight line of her back - everything was perfectly ordered, but expressive at the same time. The curved lines and corners communed with her inner self, the self that she would have been without the interference of the Games, without the chill of the icy world she'd lived in for two weeks. What she would be if she could just remember what had happened without having to watch the videos over and over, incessantly, as if she were searching for herself somewhere in there.

<p>The quiet, reassuring smile she gave Aero in the moments during the Capitolite's approach spoke all of that for her without a word - the light rising in the bottom of her eyes and the safety she generally felt when in the company of other Victors. The anticipation she felt at the idea of dancing with a fellow Victor, and not with another Gamemaker, or Journalist, or Dress Maker and so on, and so forth. <b>"I think you could maybe do with a couple of moments away from the drinks trays, perhaps."</b> The slight woman noted softly, a kind tone entering her voice that made her comment somehow not so harsh, and not in the least judgemental. <b>"Just one turn, then we'll get out of here. Besides, you've been seen now... you'll be drawn in, and we both know how appetising that sounds."</b> The softest light of amusement danced across her face before she glanced quickly at the Capitolite and back to Aero. <b>"So - ultimatum time. Dance, or no dance?"</b>

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<div style="width: 445px; height: 30px; background-color: #cfcfcf; background: rgba(207, 207, 207, 0.7); font-size: 10px; line-height: 150%; color: #8B6508;">Template: Ebz || Banner: Same
<br>Wearing: Will describe later || Words: 484 || Notes: Dance, monkey - dance!</div>

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Like with many things, Aero didn't have much of an option in the matter. Not that he wanted to stay, but that he couldn't deny someone the need to escape. The prospect attracted him like a moth to a flame, and the last time it had been brought up to him, he had taken such great lengths to achieve such a simple act. He never escaped for himself, he sat down and bore through the night like a well trained dog. But if someone else truly needed that night away, he wouldn't be the one to try and sabotage their plans. Especially victors, the people he had the closest most unspoken bond. He may have not known them all personally or closely, but they all had a sort of universal respect for each other. They all understood because they were the only ones who lived what they had lived. No one else could really compare to a week in the arena, nothing came close. So, even though Aero barely knew Legion, he would do so much for her. It was a non issue for him, even though the plan was not something he was sure he could pull off.<p>

The promise was assuring, but he wasn't so sure how much she weight of his she could pull on the dance floor. He didn't have rhythm, and alcohol didn't ease that one bit. The young victor believed her, even trusted her, but most of the doubt weighed on himself. The amount of alcohol stuck him with a constant delay. It was small, insignificant, but to him it felt like he was teeming out of control. Even if they got out, he wouldn't be able to take his usual methods of escape. He could not drive in this condition. Aero had recently become more hesitant about his alcohol intake. He never had a problem before, and often he cut himself off before anything had the chance to effect him. Ever since meeting Shock, Aero had become the designated driver, and frankly the older victor's growing problem scared him. The pilot didn't make a good drunk anyway, he only became more introverted and passive aggressive. Had he known he would be leaving the party, he wouldn't have loaded so much up on drinks. Usually the tap dribbled down throughout the night and by the time it was safe for him to leave, he was sober enough to get himself and his car home in one piece.<p>

The fact that he was so concerned about his own sobriety, made him self conscious. The little comment about the drink table only inflamed his embarrassment of being not quite so put together at that moment. Her soft tone not enough to put him at ease, only judge himself furthermore than he already was. But she did have a point, and she had a plan. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"All right,"</b></font> he sighed quietly; although, he had settled on that decision the moment he pulled himself away from the wall. Slow and steady, because a rush might trigger his intoxication to a less manageable level. He steadied himself where he stood, still holding onto her hand as he took a breath and closed his eyes, looking out to the attentive capitolite briefly as he began to rebuild himself for the proper public. He shook out his hands, rolled his shoulders. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"We'll do this. We'll make this work."</b></font> He was more assuring himself at the moment. His hands reached up to press his hair back, putting pressure against his temples to steady his gaze. Right as rain, as long as he could convince himself. That's all he had do to. He could do this. A sigh pressed out of his lips as he stepped forward, emerging from their tiny little hiding spot as he looked back with a raise of his hand for her to take again.


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<font color="#d7d7d7" size=+2>✈</font><p>


This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>he's just going to brace through it and hopefully not ruin everything</font><p>
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<div style="width: 445px; height: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding-top: 5px; font-family: times new roman; color: #FFD700; color; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000;">*---GOT A PACKAGE FULL OF WISHES---*</div>

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<b>"Make this work?"</b> Legion's voice held the slightest tinge of incredulity as she reacted, clearly surprised at Aero's words and his lack of trust in her and her abilities to guide the pair of them about the dance floor. If there was one thing in which Legion Stark was blazingly confident, it was this. <b>"We'll do better than make this work - we'll make this shine."</b> The slender woman gave her now dance partner a reassuring smile and tugged him gently on the dance floor, making small, inconspicuous corrections to his posture and dance frame as they waited for the orchestra to strike up a new tune. All around them people were giving the couple interested looks, but as per usual the blonde ignored them easily.

<p><b>"Oh, ye of little faith,"</b> she chided him gently as the first swell of a new tune broke forth from the lead violin and she eased him into a slow waltz that would accompany the coming music like a vintage wine to a Michelin chef's masterpiece. On her part, of course, there would be no stumbling, and she was well used to avoiding men's feet whilst dancing - so much so that it had almost become a game over the years, and she was always sorely disappointed in herself (and of course a little sore) when one of their shoes came crushing down on her dainty feet which were often only just barely protected by stiletto heels.

<p>It was simply impossible for her to 'go through the motions' when dancing, as it was a singularly intimate act for her. To dance with someone was often to let them see your soul, and it was how she'd gained quite a few sponsors for her tributes in years past. The Capitol liked her almost as much as her own District <i>disliked</i> her, and over time she had come to be able to use that to her advantage. She'd pulled herself a long way since that victory at the age of Twelve, and despite the fact that the twelve year old was still there inside of her, cowering from many things in her life, there was now a fully grown woman there to protect her. To protect her from herself, and from the wolves that came baying at her door occasionally.

<p>A couple of steps into the dance, Legion bemusedly assessed Aero's state and noted that he wasn't exactly the most sober of dance partners. She wondered if Oscar had felt this way the first time he'd asked her to dance, then shook the thought from her head. It had been a long time since she'd set eyes on the tall Victor from Twelve, and some part of her said perhaps it was best not to dwell on these things. Turning her mind back to the presence, she looked up at Aero and smiled softly. <b>"Not so bad so far - right?"</b>

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<div style="width: 445px; height: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding-top: 5px; font-family: times new roman; color: #FFD700; color; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #000;">*---AND A GLOBE MADE OUT OF GOLD---*</div>

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<br>Wearing: Will describe later || Words: 485 || Notes: He's far too ador(k)able.</div>

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He hadn't intended on offending her, though through his inebriated state he realized that perhaps he had. Immediately the guilt set in, but it was far too late to take back his own words. The statement was more of a self assurance to himself, since he was the one who needed the most help pulling such a feat off. Dancing, dancing while intoxicated, was not such a focus of grace within the young Maglev. She could whisk him away and guide him step by step but he doubted himself entirely more than he doubted her. If things didn't go smoothly, they would be by his own fault, not hers.<p>

Aero took a deep breath as he followed her through the parted crowd. Disassociate. That's all he had to do. Maybe he could get by in the ways that he did with everything else unpleasant - slowly drown it out until it became unreal like a dream. The power of a dream gave the dreamer the capability of doing anything and everything. It was a limitless power that could defeat all doubt and fear. He used that feeling to his advantage. So that he could push himself through situations he didn't want to believe were actually happening. It won him his games, it got him through Capitol events. Maybe it could get him through a dance. He could already feel the flush of alcohol push up the padding that kept him from facing the raw real world that surrounded him. The bodies twisting and turning in motion to the beat stood just out of focus as a muddle of lights and skin and color. He didn't pay any attention to who was paying attention to him, he was far too concerned with how he moved and how she guided him.<p>

She turned to face him, which caused him to falter on a half step before leaning back on his foot. Her effort to help him was genuine, he would give her that. She really was trying to make sure that he didn't make a fool out of himself, and in turn make a fool out of her for choosing such a lousy dance partner. He fell stiff into the posture she nudged him into, taking in a breath to ease himself back into a state apart from their reality. A smile managed to creep itself onto his lips at the little scold. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"Not in you,"</b></font> he corrected softly, his gaze flitting down at their feet as they began to move.<p>

As much as he wanted to simplify, looking only made him complicate his moves. She'd step forward and he'd stumble back. His step would hesitate but she pushed him forward anyway. No room for stalling, just keep going and keep repeating until there was a motion to it. She may have found the art in dance, and he heavily respected her for it. How she could gracefully maneuver herself around him when he could not execute the steps. She merely only needed to carry on her art of movement to drag him with her and he'd be right back on. Eventually he stopped looking down at his feet. He let them fall into the rhythm like a well oiled machine. He could work with mechanical movements, even though it was no more than an insult to what she could do with the same steps. A few rounds and he felt confident, but then he'd misstep and misstep again midst his fluster. Yet no matter what he did, she kept him going even though he was far more red in the face than ever. When she asked him, he couldn't help but wince at himself. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"Let's not jinx it further. but it's not so much of a trainwre--sorry."</b></font> Another misstep, but at least he missed her toes.

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This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

and just so happens to be <font color=#e4f0c7>635 </font> words long.<p>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>woo i finally got to this</font><p>
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Legion didn't really take his words to heart - she had grown a rather thick skin since her return from the arena, something that was necessary to survive in a District within which the majority of citizens wished she'd died in the Games. She let the words and the music wash over her, like water off a duck's back, and she took it all in her stride, training Aero along with her. He wasn't entirely void of talent, although the alcohol certainly wasn't helping matters. He was better off on the dance floor than indulging in the liquor cabinet, in any case. Like it was any of her business, she reminded herself, and made a mental note to stop treating him like he was a kid. He'd come through the trials just like she had, and he'd survived. He would either falter, fall or persevere in the trials that came with the title of Victor, but the blonde woman rather wished it would be the latter.

<p><b>"You don't need to worry about stepping on me,"</b> she murmured softly, as Aero faltered once more, and she laughed softly, so that only the two of them could hear. <b>"I'm big enough and ugly enough to take care of myself,"</b> one eyelid dipped in a wink that was barely there, so quick that the viewer might question its happening at all. Legion looked at him, laying a half amused gaze upon his face as she guided them through the motions. Her deep brown eyes were strangely reflective as they swept across the floor. <b>"Two minutes left, then we'll make our exit. You think you're ready for this?"</b> A glimmer of excitement flickered in the depths of those expressive eyes, and a smile gently turned up the edges of her lips. <b>"Any thoughts on where you want to escape to?"</b> She took a small half step back, barely avoiding Aero's shoe, and gave him a small grin. <b>"Gotta be quick in this game,"</b> she laughed again, twirled away from him with a flourish and returned once more.

<p>The slender woman's hand reached up, gently tugged his lapel into place and kissed him on the cheek as the music wound to an end. She couldn't say it had been an awful evening thus far, although she'd had better in her life. It had been an average Capitolite party - nothing untoward had happened, no Victors had been hurt in the making of the evening - and she found herself almost anxious to ensure that whatever came after this event for the pair would be better than average. More fulfilling. More fun. Victors deserved fun every now and then, nobody could really deny that. <b>"Speaking about quick, time to plot in a destination, flyboy - or are you in need of a navigator?"</b> There was that wink again, as Legion claimed his hand and gently pulled him towards the crowd, not leaving the Capitolites time to catch them. If they remained in perpetual motion, it would be much easier for the both of them.

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<br>To tell you that <b>I'm sorry this kinda sucks...</b></marquee>
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<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #F9CDAD; position:relative; bottom: 518px; font-family: 'Amatic SC', cursive; font-size: 29px; text-align:center;"><b>ain't no such thing as nothing at all</b></div>

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Substance abuse wasn't much of his problem as it had become with other victors. Aero drank, yes, but the act was merely a social endeavor. Sometimes he could have too much, but never more than the average person. It made social interaction smoother, it dulled his senses enough so that he could sit through a party that he could not escape. After seeing what his fellow victors, like Shock, put their bodies through, he had always been careful to set himself a limit. It was not his way, anyway. He preferred to distract himself through work rather than anything else. It was better to focus his mind rather than open the floodgates for it to wander, alcohol was very adept at doing the latter. It seemed a bit redundant to deny he had a problem, but in all truth he didn't as long as he was responsible. It must have been a poor impression on his part, but he was less concentrated on what he was thought of. It didn't matter, because the only opinion that mattered was what he found of himself. <p>

A shaky laugh caught his breath at her comment, but nonetheless he continued to monitor his steps. He may have been lagging, but it was no proper excuse not to try and watch his step and make her do all the work for him. As soon as he regained the courage to take the steps, his eyes returned to Legion's. That little spark behind her eyes stirred up enough confidence. Situations like theirs, he usually never had enough courage to leave early on his own. Even though he had done the same with Siren a few months back and even went so far as to urge her, deep down he was the same. Too humble of a personality to abandon an event early, despite how much he wanted to every time. It always took someone else to edge him along, but a little went a long way. A small smile crept on his face as he nodded, digesting her words and dragging his own mind away to find an answer to them. Yet again, another fumble. Aero was mentally kicking himself, head rolled to the side in defeat as he watched her twirl.<p>

He had yet to pick a destination. His mind swarmed to try and focus on one thing, one idea. It felt like too much at once. It was like trying to throw a dart at the bulls-eye that kept twisting and bumping around the board. Aero straightened his posture as she reeled back into him. A breath filled his lungs, relief swelling within him that he had actually made it through the ordeal in one piece. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"I've got our coordinates, but you're better off filling in for pilot."</b></font> Admittedly, he disliked the idea already, but he wasn't stupid enough to endanger them both. With the alcohol swishing in his belly, he was better off left a few more hours to sober up before he fit himself behind the wheel of anything.<p>

Even as she tugged him through the crowds, leading him like a contempt little puppy, he felt his world swirl around him ever so often. With each step he could feel the rush swell within him. Soon the walls of Capitolites became actual walls and then the walls became the cool air surrounding them outside. The night seeping all around them save for spots of light that decorated the walkways and streets. He dare not look behind him, it was best to keep moving. Immediately he seized forward towards where he parked his car, digging into his pants pocket for the small electronic key set to ready the doors. Swinging back on one foot, he tossed Legion the keyring to catch. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"Please tell me you know how to drive,"</b></font> he he hesitated, briefly overcome with the puzzling question. Everyone in district six knew how to drive, only those in the Capitol knew if they were drivers or collectors, because absolutely no one drove themselves..that was preposterous. He wasn't quite sure the state of other districts or even the victors of districts. Did they have the accessibility to vehicles as he did? It was a peculiar thought, a strange assumption to put on someone.


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This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

and just so happens to be <font color=#e4f0c7>712 </font> words long.<p>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>i was having trouble finding pre-games aero</font><p>
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Legion had tried to bury herself away from the world in many ways since her return from the Games and, she realised, before that as well. She’d tried to get away from it in a myriad of different ways, but all to no avail. Suicide had been averted by a knock on the door (and she was unsure she’d ever really have the confidence in which to go through with it), alcohol always wore off in the end and she couldn’t see herself going on a bender for life, and being a complete hermit just didn’t work. The buzz she’d acquired from alcohol always receded and left her with an entirely unpleasant headache – the aftereffects, therefore, put her off mostly, over even the brief glow of the world that one gained when drunk. She preferred to find her happiness in other things, such as driving (fast), dancing and discovering and rediscovering books.

<p>Thus having not taken in a drop that evening, the slight blonde was fully prepared to get them away from the party. She’d returned to the Capitol only a week ago and hadn’t yet regained the rhythm of is relentless evenings out, garish colours and raucous laughter, which was part of the reason for which she wanted to escape the soirée. Another reason was her mild interest in Aero Maglev as a Victor, but most of all as a person. He’d always seemed entirely reserved to her, and for some reason finding him half drunk this evening had surprised her. She supposed some part of her never wanted to see a drunk pilot and think about the consequences if he were coupled with an aircraft, or any vehicle really. She was always relieved at the end of the night to watch the Capitolites climbing into their limousines instead of piling into their own vehicles. Most of all, she hated to think about the other people that might be harmed by their actions, rather than them being harmed. She believed somewhat in karma, therefore nullifying any real thoughts of sympathy towards people who deserved their fate.

<p>As Aero mused about Legion filling in for him as pilot, she allowed herself a tiny grin. It probably grated at him that she was the one who would be driving them, and not him. At least she could definitely imagine it grating at her if she were in his position. She caught the keyring deftly, managing to keep a straight face as he asked her if she could drive. It had, in fact, been one of the first things she’d learnt how to do upon earning her mentor status. She didn’t like people driving her around, and having to wait on others was simply a hassle. So, of course she knew how to drive, but because she enjoyed teasing people she simply gave Aero a wide eyed look, shrugged and said <b>”Well, I suppose I can learn as we go.”</b> Her blank look to his question was probably enough to give him a heart attack, but coupled with her comment she wouldn’t be surprised if he lunged towards the driver’s seat, had she given him the chance – she didn’t.

<p>The slender woman slid into the low seat, hitching up her dress to above her knees and kicking her high heels under the driver’s seat. She flexed her toes a little as she shut the door and keyed the ignition, the car coming to life in the silence of the garage, a threatening rumble that made her grin. Since learning how to drive she’d been a quick study, often to be found racing around the edges of the city limits, stretching her car and herself to the edge and beyond, a studious but elated look on her face. It was in driving that she was able to forget forgetting, and that pleased her immensely. Adjusting the seat a little to deal with her diminutive height she glanced at Aero, simply raising her eyebrow in a questioning look as she spoke - <b>”Coordinates, nav-man?”</b>


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<br>To tell you that <b>time to freak Aero outtt..!</b></marquee>
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<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #F9CDAD; position:relative; bottom: 518px; font-family: 'Amatic SC', cursive; font-size: 29px; text-align:center;"><b>ain't no such thing as nothing at all</b></div>

<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #C8C8A9; position:relative; bottom: 1px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 10px; text-align:left; text-transform: uppercase;">Credit to Ebz at Caution 2.0</div>

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Of course he wanted to drive. Deep down there was an itch within the palm of his hands that yearned to grasp the molded metal shaped into a wheel. His fingers twitched with the anticipation to toggle a display and manually shift from gear to gear. Never would he not want to drive, because there was nothing more empowering to him than being behind the force of a few tons of metal and machinery. Nothing came more as a comfort to his jumbled nerves than racing down an empty road or jetting through an even emptier sky. He liked knowing he was in control, because victors had so few opportunities to feel as such. While he always found solace tucked away in these vehicles, they seemed even more precious since he'd emerged from the arena. Yet Aero had too much of a conscience; he had too much common sense, and that was what allowed him to hand over the keys. It was far too reckless to believe that he was in the proper condition to control an elaborate construction of metal. He struggled to gain control of his own motor skills, how could he ever gain the needed control to properly navigate a vehicle? There would be other days, that car would never be too far out of his reach.<p>

Though that is if in fact Legion could operate a vehicle. The look on Aero's face dropped from amused to concerned to slightly mortified. Learn...as they go? He wanted to say <font color=#C7D1AF><I>No, maybe we should hail someone?</i></font>, but he was still caught processing her words. His feet had cemented to the street as she walked ahead of him and entered the car. All at once he wanted to stop her and question her and wrestle the keys from her at the same time, but for just long enough he lacked the mobility to do any of it. He simply stood there trying to process whether or not he could even each her in his condition. Everything he knew about cars, driving them, it was such second nature at his age. To be completely honest, he wouldn't really know how to teach someone to drive even if he was sober. <p>

Snapping from his daze, Aero stumbled along to the passenger side. The look of confusion and disbelief carved into his face as he simply leaned over to look into the car. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"What have I done..."</b></font> he uttered. He watched her adjust the seat and fiddle around, partially offended at all the adjustments she was making to his precious vehicle; a vehicle he often considered his own home away from home. Clearly he had not thought his decision through, yet he was sure at this point that the woman victor would not be letting up at his request. They were in midst of a getaway after all, and she had been quite determined from the get go. So instead of arguing, he crawled into the passenger seat of the car, watching her desecrate all of his comfortable settings.<p>

The first thing he did was secure his seat belt, fingers wrapping around the flat strip of fabric and ensuring it was tight. Her question caused him to glance outward out the window, they had not even started moving yet and he was so very unsure. Now hoping that maybe hey, she was just kidding around with him. She had figured out so much already, but still could have been things picked up by simply watching drivers instead of being them. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"I..uh,"</b></font> he stammered, looking over at the young woman again as he tried to remember exactly where he had decided on them going. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"The north west side along the embankment by the water there's a pavilion--but really it's a bit of a drive."</b></font> he spat out with practically one breath. Yet if he couldn't take her there, there wasn't very many places left that wouldn't get them killed or leave them alone.

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<font color="#d7d7d7" size=+2>✈</font><p>

This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

and just so happens to be <font color=#e4f0c7>651 </font> words long.<p>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>he is absolutely mortified...</font><p>
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Aero was drunk. He was drunk and Legion was playing a joke on him. She realised it was mildly unfair, but it wasn't her who had chosen for him to be slightly more than inebriated at this point in time. She bridled herself a little, reining in her urges to tease him even more for the time being. He was probably frightened enough as it was, getting into a car with a woman who supposedly couldn't drive and was willing to 'learn as she went'. The thing was, on some level she couldn't help it. Aero reminded her of a boy she'd once known, in a time before the Games. He'd brought out a side of her that was happy, carefree and teasing. Who she was with the other Victor felt, in some way, how she was supposed to be had the Capitol not touched her life so deliberately, rearranged her future and scrambled her mind. Tampered and twisted without care. The teasing light in her eyes dampened but didn't go out as she set the car in reverse, spun the wheel and roared out of the park, easing them to a halt once they were clear of the other vehicles.

<p><b>"Well. That was fun. I wonder what going forwards is like."</b> A ponderous look flitted across her face, and what could only be seen as a demonic spark replaced the teasing light. Screw the rules. Screw expectations. Being nice was overrated when the engine sounded like this one, when the steering wheel beneath her hands felt like it was moulded just for her. She felt a twinge of guilt, but only for a second, before she shifted gears and moved the purring vehicle out of the garage at a relatively slow pace, given the quick reversal that had come to an albeit gentle halt. His rush of words rang clear in her mind, she knew where he was talking about - it was out of the city enough to be somewhat solitary, but it had a beautiful view and it wasn't <i>too</i> far. The best thing was the road leading to it, the winding sinuous sealed path that snuck from the Capitol and never looked back.

<p>As she eased the car from the garage, Legion toggled the headlights and indicated left, checking both ways before moving the vehicle onto the road with a practised ease that she hoped would at least move to reassure Aero a little before she picked up speed, sending them flying through the streets at a pace that bordered the inner city speed limit but didn't quite surpass it. Inside the vehicle there was a silence that came naturally from the pair, a shared communion at the altar of the car Gods that lasted just long enough for them to appreciate the vehicle and its nimble manoeuvres through traffic at the merest touch of the slender woman's hand. Her bare feet against the pedals, she could feel the hum throughout her body, feel the surge of the engine as she sped through the last set of the lights and headed beyond the city's business blocks into the grand, wooded area beyond its tall buildings.

<p>Ignoring the speed limit, for there were really any law enforcement officers beyond the central business district of the Capitol, Legion urged the car onwards, up the slowly climbing road that lead to the pavilion in the north-west quarter. As the harsh lights were laid out behind them she spoke softly, a lilting tone to her voice. <b>"Beyond the edge it doesn't really seem that bad, does it? Looking back on the city you'd never imagine the things they thrive on. You'd never think they love what they do. I sometimes wonder if all those colours have infected them somehow. As if too much brightness makes you a little bit... off. But then again, look at Adsel. Too much darkness and you'll be a little weird as well."</b> She fell silent thinking of the other Victor, brows furrowing briefly as she edged the car about a particularly sharp turn. <b>"I suppose there's something to be said for a little balance in one's life."</b> She fell silent once more before finally sighing softly and offering up an apology. <b>"I'm sorry, for teasing you that is. I shouldn't, but I can't help it."</b>

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<br>To tell you that <b>I'm sorry, Legion was all over the place!</b></marquee>
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<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #F9CDAD; position:relative; bottom: 518px; font-family: 'Amatic SC', cursive; font-size: 29px; text-align:center;"><b>ain't no such thing as nothing at all</b></div>

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A part of him remained skeptical of the situation at hand. Whether or not it was real or a joke or a dream. Often times it was hard to tell real from unreal or the sincerity of the people around him. They were all actors playing their parts, some far better than others. The alcohol clouding his mind made it difficult to distinguish each role and each fact. It let him believe easier, as if it oiled up his mind for a simpler processing. In some ways it could be a good thing, but in others it was dastardly unfair. There was usually one form in which a person could truly pick the effects of their poison, and it was a route not worth taking. Aero would take the good with the bad, although at that point it felt like the bad was just a bit too much to process at the moment. Staring over at Legion trying to decipher that little glint in her eyes was perhaps the most troubling moment of that night.<p>

The lacquered dashboard pressed against the flat of his palm as he held it tightly once Legion tugged the car out of its parking spot. It was a jerk reaction of his, bracing for some unforeseen impact to one of the nearby vehicles. Grabbing the dashboard did nothing, but he honestly had nothing else to grab onto in the two seconds it took for her to maneuver the box of metal they both rest in. Her little comment merely extracted a troubled look from him as he looked from his hand over to her. <font color=#C7D1AF><I>Be gentle,</i></font> he wanted to say, but he stomached the words, but as she eased the vehicle with little problem, Aero could feel his pulse began to steady out. Eventually that hand fell back into his lap, assured that perhaps maybe she was only joking. It wouldn't take him more than a block to confirm as such. The purr of the engine helped to condition him. Years and years of falling asleep in the back seat of a car, it always flicked a subconscious switch in the back of his mind that he needed to calm down once the streetlights began to stream by. Driving or not, he could still find solace seated in a moving car.<p>

The slightest hitch still twined beneath his skin, at the risk of what might happen to them, to the car, mostly them. The car could be fixed, it could be replaced, yet still had a sort of significance in his life. Every part he had personally assembled and disassembled at least once on occasion. It was perhaps the only thing in his life he literally knew inside and out, and happened to be the only trustworthy companion he had in the Capitol at all times of the year. It may have been a hunk of metal and electronics, but it meant a lot more than that to him. He may have been a little overprotective of it, but it was really all he had. It was the only thing that tied him to his home, it helped him remember his home which he scarcely visited the past few years. Yet he knew it was a bit silly, too silly to explain to the woman now driving it. While it made sense to let her drive, of course he didn't really enjoy letting her do such. <P>

He pulled himself from his thoughts to offer a quiet laugh not loud enough to break out from his throat. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"Then don't apologize,"</b></font> he managed, shifting slightly in his seat to counter the swing of the turn. Slipping back into a position of comfort, he idly rubbed at the side of his face; the tips of his fingers grazing the dent of the trademark scar. As his hands settled back into his lap, he tried to focus his attention to their surroundings. Even though inebriated, he attempted to calculate where they were, how close they were by then. How many twists and turns they'd swung through and how many were left. The spot on the hill and the pavilion were both constant getaways for the young pilot. They were both places he could drive to in his sleep. He could count the landmarks and turns in the road that would take him there from a set point - usually his own house. Coming from a party made it difficult to keep track, but the empty darkness ahead was a sure signature that they were creeping up on the treasured getaway.<font color=#7CC5D9><b>"Just as long as we don't end up flying off the face of a cliff, I think I can handle it,"</b></font> he half joked as he fought to break through another brief blip of silence.

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<font color="#d7d7d7" size=+2>✈</font><p>

This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

and just so happens to be <font color=#e4f0c7>795</font> words long.<p>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>aero/car. its a thing</font><p>
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She took pity on him, and eased her foot off the accelerator somewhat. She knew what it was like when people stole things away from you - she'd spent most of her childhood having things taken from her again and again, and the Games had stolen her memory. The following years had seen the Capitol steal her talent for their own devices, and her time for their pleasure, and now here she was flaunting the fact that she was driving <i>his</i> car, on <i>his</i> time. Legion was silent as she pulled the vehicle into the small parking lot, vacant of all other life, and killed the engine. The shame had taken her over, and she rubbed a hand across her face. <b>"Just take the apology, Aero, please. They're not thick on the ground in the Capitol, I'm sure you can use it for something else if not for this."</b>

<p>One slender hand withdrew the key from the ignition, then threw it into his lap in a not-so-subtle gesture of giving over the reins. Legion didn't stop to see if her fellow Victor had caught them before she opened the door and spun in her seat, sliding out of the vehicle and stepping lightly across the gravel, before one final gazelle-like leap onto the grass. She let out a sigh as her feet found the softness and dug her toes in, letting down the hem of her dress so it fell to the ground. It pooled around her feet as she stood in the moonlight and looked up at the sky, toes gripping the green blades, head thrust back as she waited for Aero to join her. The stars, flung far and wide, winked guilelessly out of the blackness, the occasional cloud sailing through the void.

<p>Legion had let the silence hang between them since his comment about sending them flying off a cliff. Although she had flung herself into a void of danger following her Games, she'd never put anybody else in danger that she knew of. She'd fallen prey to the feeling of sheer <i>life</i> that driving a good car gave her, thinking that perhaps Aero would be drawn along with her. It was a singularly different experience for driver and passenger, however, and as she stood staring at the sky she realised her mistake and felt just a little more shame at her actions, and then her words. She hadn't meant them to scathe, hadn't meant them to be hurtful - it was simply the truth as she had seen it, and she hoped he would take it as such.

<p><b>"Don't answer if you don't want to,"</b> the slender woman threw over her shoulder at the approaching Aero Maglev, <b>"but what did you do when you got out of the Games? When you finished your Victory Tour?"</b> Turning her eyes from the skies, she looked to the approaching Victor, her skirts sweeping gracefully about her legs and feet, the material ruching a little about her hips. <b>"I never saw you as one of the alcohol types - but then I could be wrong. Drugs? No, not that either."</b> She smiled slightly at him, a half smile that asked him to trust her with his reply. <b>"You always were such a mystery to me, Aero Maglev, but as much as I love a good mystery, I've always been one to obsess over solving them."</b> She reached up, ran a hand through her hair and looked out towards the pavilion, and the twinkling lights of the city beyond that.

<p>It was something she wondered with every Victor - what they turned to when the darkness threatened to engulf them. Sometimes it was alcohol, sometimes it was drugs, other times it was blood letting - sometimes their own, sometimes others'. Legion had turned to risk-taking, and although those days were behind her now, like every alcoholic she risked relapses every single day. It was hard to find things to hold you on the straight and narrow when your life was built from the very ruins of what threw you off the rails in the first place.

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<br>To tell you that <b>I rushed the journey a bit, but the destination was waiting! Also figured Aero would like his car back eventually...</b></marquee>
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<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #F9CDAD; position:relative; bottom: 518px; font-family: 'Amatic SC', cursive; font-size: 29px; text-align:center;"><b>ain't no such thing as nothing at all</b></div>

<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #C8C8A9; position:relative; bottom: 1px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 10px; text-align:left; text-transform: uppercase;">Credit to Ebz at Caution 2.0</div>

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<div style="width:400px; height: 100%; background-color:#e3e3e1; background-image:url(http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kym12fh4h41qa4q98o1_500.jpg); width: 400px; height: 600px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:center center; border-radius: 0px 65px 0px 65px; border-left: 12px 97B9C7 solid;">

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By no means did it really upset him, he had no place to be upset. He felt like a child who was bubbling over from someone else playing with his toy, but really that was his problem. He had handed over the keys in the first place because it was the right thing to do, only falling short of realizing he was far too attached to his toy than he previously realized. Often times he stumbled upon these moments, too wrapped up in other observations to predict his own actions and reactions. It had been the same when he had allowed Siren into his house, seeing his garage, lending her his clothes. Seemingly innocent, but then the emotions began to swell at the bottom of the pool. It was just who he was. Regardless of who he was with, he tended to give everything and anything to make a situation right. Despite his own feelings. So no, he couldn't condemn Legion from having fun despite his own lackluster experience in the seat next to her, nor was he about to argue her for it. The best he could do was just accept, pretend to forgive what was already forgiven.<p>

The key stuffed at the bottom pocket with his hand, now warm to the touch. He kept it curled up between his fingers while the hand parallel remained balled up with nothing to grasp within the other pocket. His feet stopped short of the line of grass, digesting her question with even more silence. The brain taking its time processing her words and their meanings, all while keeping his own body steady and still - easier now that he had more time for the alcohol to process through his system. Like slowly squeezing a plump sponge. He didn't meet her gaze, his own remained across the dark grass before him, the detail of the blades lost within the night. Not even the stars could distinguish its rich hues and intricate layout of sprouts. <p>

<font color=#7CC5D9><b>"Afraid it's not very...exciting,"</b></font> he winced slightly as he dwelt on the last word, as if unsure if it was the proper word to be using regarding the question. Looking back, the first year as a victor was always a bad year no matter who it was. It was a year of getting used to the new life they'd just been thrown into, to try and find their footing again now that the Capitol was there to pull the strings. Her question wasn't entirely out of the ordinary, every one of them had a different method of getting through that year. The state of him that night probably put assumptions in her mind, that of the most common wells that people like them liked to fall into. He wasn't going to bother to defend himself on that behalf, because he knew he didn't have a problem. It wasn't possible after he himself had resorted to watering down drinks of his fellow victors who <i>did</i> possess a problem.<p>

The empty hand lifted out of his pocket to run through his hair, lifting it to catch the breeze that sent a chill down the nape of his neck. A breath filled his lungs as he looked back up, avoiding her eyes to look around before falling back on her. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"I saw a professional,"</b></font> he started, stepping into the grass. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"They tried to medicate me, but I didn't like not feeling."</b></font> the words felt awkward on his tongue, but perhaps that's because it was the first time he'd said them aloud. There was so much more about that year, but it was a good place to start. The midst of his tour, unable to face the crowds. He had just wanted to stay in the train cabin, and say nothing to no one. He'd mistake an avox or his escort for the dead, and in order to even move on they needed to fill him with something so that he could function. As the scale tipped to the other end where he functioned too well, it was too much feeling so little. He felt as if he were wiped away, a cleaned slate. And while he had pried himself off of he Captiol's help years ago, it was always a feeling he hadn't shook completely. A scar on his surface. He felt incomplete, that something from him was missing but he couldn't remember just what about him that it was.<P>

Again his steps lulled to a stop as his head tilted upward to the sky. The lights that flickered above never changed, and no matter where he was, he could always take comfort in that. The sky was always there for him, it was a constant in his life even when all else was in motion. <font color=#7CC5D9><b>"I just keep myself working. The keys always in the ignition to keep me running, to keep me from stalling."</b></font> Was it cowardice? Was it any better than drugs or mutilation to deal with what had been dealt to him? He wasn't sure, but it had worked thus far in attempt to hold back what he couldn't face - at least most of the time.

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<font color="#d7d7d7" size=+2>✈</font><p>

This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

and just so happens to be <font color=#e4f0c7>859</font> words long.<p>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>m</font><p>
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With one's soul laid bare under the lights of the cosmos, it was hard to hold anything back - or so Legion had found. She didn't like lying anyway, and she wouldn't have done as such to Aero. She felt as a fellow survivor he was owed more, and she would attempt to ensure that from now on, and at least from her, he would get the kind of actions he deserved. She hadn't surmised much about him, and in general she held back from making any judgement on people (except for Capitolites... that was too hard to hold back from), so when he said they'd shoved medication on him, she merely nodded, just the once, and let the silence lapse between them as he moved forward onto the grass, stepping up beside her and in turn looking at the stars as she looked at him. A soft smile tinged with a hint of sadness curved her lips and she looked down at the grass, admiring the pearly sheen it had taken on in the light of the moon.

<p><b>"That's a good analogy,"</b> she laughed softly at the idea of Aero being a car himself. He was so close with the machine that she supposed it could be possible. At least, however, unlike a machine he possessed emotions. She enjoyed him being open like this, and appreciated the fact that he could trust her with this information, probably more than he would ever know. <b>"I think you did the right thing, not getting stuck. It's so easy to do, the way we're thrown into the void. Trying to hold onto what came before is like trying to stop the sun from rising and setting, but the whole thing runs away from you like a freight train. Getting yourself out and keeping yourself in motion is logical. It seems... right."</b> She shot him a soft smile, then reached up and brushed a hand through her hair, mirroring his motion from before without realising it as she lifted a corner of her dress and moved forward through the grass, heading towards the site from which they would have the best view of the Capitol.

<p>Legion wasn't one for staying still, although previous to the Games she'd spend most of her time curled into corners or nooks with a good book. These days she managed it from time to time, but only when she was truly tired, or truly relaxed with her current point in life. It didn't happen often, but what counted was that it <i>did happen</i>, a fact which gave her hope for the future. She paused briefly, looking back to Aero as he stared up at the sky. He looked so peaceful in contemplation that she halted and simply watched him for a moment. It was good to know that a certain quantum of solace was still available when it was needed. <b>"We turned out okay,"</b> she murmured loud enough for the both of them to hear, her thoughts turning to the others that didn't seem to have the same level of so-called normalcy that Legion and Aero had apparently attained. Of course they would forever be damaged under the surface, but for all the Capitol meddling in their lives, they had turned out somewhat normal. Somewhat okay. They'd continued to fight, and would continue to fight until the last. The phrase <i>'Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,</i> came to mind as she thought about the pair of them. A testament to the fact that they would rally and return each time it was necessary until they couldn't do it any longer. <b>"In the grand scheme of things, we turned out okay."</b> she smiled to herself, watching the other Victor unabashedly as he admired the sky.

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<br>To tell you that <b>they really are quite normal, in the scheme of things.</b></marquee>
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<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #F9CDAD; position:relative; bottom: 518px; font-family: 'Amatic SC', cursive; font-size: 29px; text-align:center;"><b>ain't no such thing as nothing at all</b></div>

<div style="width:345px; height: 24px; color: #C8C8A9; position:relative; bottom: 1px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 10px; text-align:left; text-transform: uppercase;">Credit to Ebz at Caution 2.0</div>

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<div style="width:400px; height: 100%; background-color:#e3e3e1; background-image:url(http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kym12fh4h41qa4q98o1_500.jpg); width: 400px; height: 600px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:center center; border-radius: 0px 65px 0px 65px; border-left: 12px 97B9C7 solid;">

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Aero didn't quite believe that his methods were entirely harmless, but he could agree that it was far more harmless of a lifestyle than many victors chose to tumble down. He remained relatively clear of mind, productive, but even then it came at a price. The tolls he took were not immediately damaging, but the debt would be repaid in some shape or form. He knew he couldn't always run, he was not a machine that could be refilled with fuel indefinitely. He was human and only capable of burning a finite amount of energy before the nightmares caught up to swallow him whole. Yet he kept himself awake and only slept odd hours in the fresh breath of morning when his legs gave out from under him and sleep consumed him where he fell. A few hours in a dream could feel like a lifetime, it was more than enough to endure. The young pilot could only hope that when he awoke that perhaps luck would let what he had seen remain in the land of subconscious thought, otherwise he would spend hours upon hours trying to drag himself back to a state of normal. Working until his fingers grew raw. For a man not so easily allowed to fly, all he had to save him most times was a garage. Taking things a part and putting it back together again and again. It was enough to make a man go mad.<p>

They were okay weren't they? The victor felt the oncoming urge of a slightly troubled look wishing to rise up across his expression. He hadn't looked at his life in that way, against all possibilities instead of just his own. In the grand scheme of things, yes he or Legion could have it worse, it could always get worse. It didn't make what already was no less bad. He wanted to correct her, that in the grand scheme of things they dealt with what they had been given well; that part was true. What had happened to them, what he had lost and gained, that wasn't okay. The only part that was okay was his ability to control it, to handle it to the best of his ability. He was thankful for wielding such inner strength, but by no means did he excuse it. If she believed him, if he believed it himself, if everyone kept believing him, it would be fine. He could manage his inner demons that poked and thrashed when his hands fell idle. <p>

<font color=#7CC5D9><b>"We turned out okay,"</b></font> he repeated with a tone of agreement as his gaze fell from the sky to the woman before him. A warm smile upon his lips, genuine enough to hopefully get him by without question. As his hand slipped into his pocket again, the victor walked to catch up to the gowned woman on their journey to the structure ahead. As long as he could pretend to believe it, those around him would too. He counted on it, because he wouldn't know what he'd do if people doubted him. The old bluff was really all he had left. Briefly he wondered if she too had something to hide. Beneath the normal rested something else, something hidden and safe from the world. If she was just as well bluffing as he believed that he did. There definitely was a sadness about her, a piece missing but a piece he couldn't place. Yet he wanted to believe that out of the two of them, she did manage to make out with something normal. But it begged the question what was the standard for normal anymore?

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<font color="#d7d7d7" size=+2>✈</font><p>

This tag was for <font color=#e4f0c7>Legion</font>

and just so happens to be <font color=#e4f0c7>606</font> words long.<p>

By the way, <font color=#e4f0c7>perhaps a decent place to end? couldn't think of anything</font><p>
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