(no subject)

[prodigaljaybird]

A day later, Jason's learned enough of his new power to keep control, at least to the point that he won't hurt anyone by accident. Gone is the fear of yesterday, and in its place is a delirious kind of purpose, the power in Jason so raw, so unchecked, and as of yet unwielded against an appropriately worthy foe.

He could bring down buildings if he wanted to, and not by blowing himself through him. He could pull down trees, scream holes in the fucking mountainside. He can shout so loud he can lift himself from the ground and keep going, but it's not to the neighborhoods Jason goes, or to mountain peaks, or to freedom on the winds. He plunges himself into the deeper parts of the forest, climbing towards the water tower and to the monstrosity that lies within its shadow.

The enormous golden horn, shining dimly in the dappled sun, beautiful and terrible, dented by steel and arrows and desperate hands. Katniss' Cornucopia. Jason hates it almost as much as she does.

He stares at it, reaching for old staples, for the anger inside him that's always raging so near to the surface. Rarely has he had the opportunity to let it out, and even more rarely on so worthy a goal. So intent is he on the horn, on its golden bow and hateful arch, that Jason hardly notices when he's no longer alone.

Comments

[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

The Girl on Fire. Once, Katniss had thought that it was a cruel joke, the gamemaker's way of being ironic. After all, it only served to remind her of that moment in the Capitol, watching her sister engulfed in flames. But somehow, Jason makes her want to believe him. Something that makes her want to trust him, and that's rare for a girl who had previously given up on the human race as a whole. Or maybe it's because she can feel his excitement thrumming through her, vibrating her hands to the bone.

It didn't hurt me, she thinks, briefly. It hurt her. But if there's one thing she's tired of, it's being afraid.

She takes a deep breath and feels the heat at the back of her throat, her heart pounding like a metal drum. And then she releases it; just a wisp of flame, enough to warm his fingers against her chest.

[prodigaljaybird]

The smoke curls over his fingers, and Jason beams down at her, feels pride bubbling out of him as surely as any of the sonic screams. He leans down, pressing his lips to her hot cheek.

"Just like that," he says, repeating, "it's ours," before he threads their hands together, pulling them both closer to the horn. He's stood before so many things with a mind for destroying them, faced down a city and a family that never tired of telling him he was wrong, but not today. No one can doubt them today, no one can question that this abomination should come down, and it lights him up from the inside out. "I can break it with my voice," he says, "Shout it into pieces. You could melt it down. We could make new and better things with the gold, or we can throw it into the ocean. What do you want, Katniss?"

[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

Katniss feels chapped lips against her cheek, rough hands in hers and can't help but think that Jason's attitude right now was infectious. She's spent her whole life being pushed around by other people; even in the rebellion she had been nothing more than a pawn to serve other people's agendas. This? This makes her feel like she has any sort of power. Almost as if anything she ever did in Panem made any sort of difference.

It feels unstoppable. And it's this sort of naive idealism that she thought shed gotten rid of ages ago, if she had ever had it at all.

There's so much blood staining the gold that looking at it makes her feel sick, brings back all the times she wished she could break it to bits but never had the power to. "Throw it into the sea. The blood shouldn't be washed off." she looks at him, hands squeezing tight. "You break it. I'll melt it."

[prodigaljaybird]

"Yeah," Jason exhales, sucking in a breath before he freezes. "Wait," he says, somehow able to stand here and laugh, but today he feels so goddamn free. "Cover your ears." Lifting her hands, he curls them over her ears, "It's really loud."

He steps away but doesn't go far, all but elbow to elbow with her when he widens his stance, bracing himself against the noise that's about to burst from his own mouth. "Here we go," he murmurs, draws in a breath and sends his voice out on it. It's loud, it's so fucking loud he almost laughs again, but then the horn groans and Jason remembers how important this is, that he can laugh and crow and dance over the molten ashes, but only when it's done. He screams and screams and doesn't stop until the Cornucopia bends and collapses in the middle, soft gold yielding at last to his voice. "Halfway there," Jason gasps, dizzy.

[burnwithus.livejournal.com]

It's as loud as a bomb.

That's the first thing Katniss thinks, as the sheer noise is enough to make her teeth rattle in her jaw, to make her ears ache even with her fingers stuffed into them. She remembers the last time she'd heard something this loud, and how it had deafened her in one ear. It had felt like being blind, and in response to that memory, clutches her hands tighter to her head.

Her ears are ringing. But there's no blood, which is a good sign, and Katniss doesn't mind too much when she sees the Cornucopia begin to crumple like an old tin can.

"Thank you."

She means it, too. It's not often that she expresses such sentiments.