Post by Veronica Braxton on Jul 24, 2014 21:00:22 GMT -6
The reception hall falls to a quiet murmur as the tributes from District Eleven exit.
"Are you ready?" V asked as they stepped onto their chariot and rode out into the theater. "Remember the plan, stride out with all your confidence and when it goes down, just keep your calm. We ride out there all cool like a three-day beard and we take this parade by storm!"
A spotlight shines down from some unseen location in the catwalks above, loud trumpets begin to blare the District Twelve anthem. The matte-black chariot rolled down the arena in near silence, save the clip-clop of the horses hooves. A faint his can be heard from the far end of the arena that quickly grows in volume and snakes its way to the near end of the stage. The crowd seems to react while person after person points out the projected explosives near where the chariot made it's initial entrance, now nearing the halfway point of its journey.
A bone jarring explosion shines out from the back wall and fractions of a second later the hall is fill with a deafening blast from the speakers. The faces of every audience member snap back to the vivid orange, red, black projected plume flowing every outwards. The two stalwart charioteers continue their fixed gaze forward, seemingly oblivious to the everyday explosives of District Twelve mining life. Projected embers streak towards them and ignite their meek costumes into a blaze of orange and red. Streaks of smoke and ember rush from the horses manes and the wake of the chariot against the dusty ground, the bright embers casting eerie glow amongst them. "Good", V thought to herself. "Going last seems to have payed off after all."
"Are you ready?" V asked as they stepped onto their chariot and rode out into the theater. "Remember the plan, stride out with all your confidence and when it goes down, just keep your calm. We ride out there all cool like a three-day beard and we take this parade by storm!"
A spotlight shines down from some unseen location in the catwalks above, loud trumpets begin to blare the District Twelve anthem. The matte-black chariot rolled down the arena in near silence, save the clip-clop of the horses hooves. A faint his can be heard from the far end of the arena that quickly grows in volume and snakes its way to the near end of the stage. The crowd seems to react while person after person points out the projected explosives near where the chariot made it's initial entrance, now nearing the halfway point of its journey.
A bone jarring explosion shines out from the back wall and fractions of a second later the hall is fill with a deafening blast from the speakers. The faces of every audience member snap back to the vivid orange, red, black projected plume flowing every outwards. The two stalwart charioteers continue their fixed gaze forward, seemingly oblivious to the everyday explosives of District Twelve mining life. Projected embers streak towards them and ignite their meek costumes into a blaze of orange and red. Streaks of smoke and ember rush from the horses manes and the wake of the chariot against the dusty ground, the bright embers casting eerie glow amongst them. "Good", V thought to herself. "Going last seems to have payed off after all."
