Day in the Fields (Anise/ Open)

[NOAH SCOTT BRONZE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background: #e1e23e;] LET'S GO DOWN. NO ONE AROUND. LET'S GO TO TOWN Noah walked down the rows of tall corn stalks, a heavy full bag of picked corn slung over his shoulder. His back of his neck and shoulders burned from the heat of the sun high over head. He had worked since lunch, no breaks and by then it was late afternoon. The people of District 9 were hard at work harvesting their fields for the other districts to eat. They needed to produce enough so the Capital would be satisfied. Wiping his brow, he dropped the bag and fanned his shirt out, the sweat making the white tank shirt stick to his body. It itched from the dust of the neary by machines kicking up dirt and bugs. He started back down the row to the other side of the field he worked. It was a long way to the other sde and this peeved him that he had been put so far away from the collection trucks. He didn't really have to work, but he felt bad leaving the other people of the district one hand less in their work. Every time he considered not working, he would argue with himself until he went. He reached the end of the row and bent down, picking up another bag from the pile he had brought the first time he had made the trip. He continued to walk until he reached were he had stopped and went to work collecting the corn. Wheat and grain was a big part of the district's products, but sometimes the district grew more than that, as he was picking corn. The tall stalks provided some shade as the sun climbed lower and lower as little time passed. He filled another bag and grabbed another, not wanting to make another trip. He tossed the full bag behind him blindly and shook the next bag open. He heard footsteps and stopped. "Hello there." he said without looking. He hoped it was Anise. They had worked together since she was too little to much anything else around the district. Theyw ere both pretty quiet, so it wasn't a problem when he didn't want to talk, becasue she didn't either. They were both quiet people and it worked for them. Their company was enough for each other. Noah knew that Anise looked up to him. There were days when they picked corn together. More than once he had seen her trying to copy him as he ripped the huskks off of the corn with a determined face, which made him crack up and her look confused. He liked having her around, more than ever. She was a silent friend that sad more than anyone with no words.

made by zetta

[ANISE COPPERWOOD]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #7a9aa9; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] Senseless Denial, We spun like birds on fire right down towards the residence and i I took all that I desired even crooks have to pay the rent We swam like rats on fire right, right down the reservoir We took all that we could carry but we tried to carry more The day was hot. Smoulderingly so. And the heat was exhausting to a fourteen-year-old who had been on her feet, harvesting grain for the last five hours. It was fall and in the fall the Capitol demanded a certain amount of grain. And any citizen of District 9, let alone a harvester, would be at serious risk of a whipping if they did not pull their weight. This all meant that Anise, despite being under eighteen, had to work long, long days in the fields. This wouldn't be so bad, except some git in charge had placed her in the furthest spot from the collection trucks that he could find. As a result, she had to hike four fields and a farm track before she reached the trucks with her meagre three sacks of corn. It was on one of these semi-pointless trips that she spotted Noah harvesting a few rows down from her. Huh. At least she knew those rumours about Victors getting special treatment weren't true. Anise had recognised Noah immediately because of his clothing. District 9 wasn't famed for its fashion sense and the majority of the citizens wore functional, plain clothes that didn't show the dirt. She was sure that even though Noah protested the Games, he somehow couldn't escape having squarer meals or better clothes than the rest of the District did. As a result, Anise could spot him at a distance as well as she could if he had a neon sign over his head. Slinging her canvas sacks of grain over her shoulder, Anise began to pick her way through the crops and over to Noah, not because she wanted conversation but because she wanted company. Noah was good like that. She had looked up to him as a child, because he always seemed to know what he was doing and he'd always been content to let her sit at his feet and (futilely) pull at grain husks. His silence had been his respect. Anise had just been relieved that she had found someone who neither wanted to talk her ears off nor talk down to her. Noah greeted her without even looking behind him and Anise felt a stab of concern. Before the Games he'd been easy to sneak up on and enjoyed the joke when he was. But ever since he had returned to District 9 with shadows on his face, God forbid anyone should try that sort of humour. Anise had tried in a vain attempt to get back to the old days and it had taken at least a quarter of an hour to calm Noah back down. He was on edge all the time and Anise feared for him. "Hey Noah." Anise said softly, knowing he'd pick up on it. There was no need to shout in the fields. Every word you said carried and she didn't want anyone to realise that she was slacking, not fulfilling her job. She estimated two lashes for that particular offence. Maybe an extra considering she was talking to a Victor and not another lowly field worker. At least the wind was blowing in her favour, its cool gusts blowing gently on her face. She set her canvas sacks down on the ground and began to pull out husks in the row opposite Noah. The rough work had once made her hands sore, but now there were enough callouses to shield her hands from the pain. Still, that was the peril of being a harvester. It was not a coveted job by any means, but her father and herself were a unit and if he was going to support them then by God so was she. Anise cut a piece of string from the roll at her belt to tie a sack and the knife slipped sideways. "Damn." She cursed, winding a strip of cloth around it as it bled, little red dots falling and staining the ground beneath her. words: 649 | tagged: noah scott bronze | notes: --

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY MODEST MOUSE[/center]