#( * threads

[sterlingwhitvale]

who: @ceceliaknowsbest where: district 8 mills when: 10 years ago

God, his Ma was going to kill him.  She had just gotten the grease stains out from these pants, large hand prints dragged down the side of his thigh, and here they were again.   He didn’t mean to, it was just when he was in the belly of the beast, his mind occupied in pieces and parts and how they’re failing to work together, he forgets about the rag tucked in his pocket, and all he can think of to fix his grip is a quick swipe on the pants.  But to be honest, he was tired enough he was falling straight into bed, she might not even see him until dinner tomorrow, depending what shifts she was working.  His mind sluggishly moved through a to do list as he moved through the streets lined with all different kinda of mills on his way home, eyes mostly trained towards the ground. To be honest, he had realized a couple months ago after he had been promoted, that a surprising amount of mothers of girls from his class in school had a habit of 'bumping into him', giving them an excuse to lavish praise upon their daughters, so he generally made a habit of keeping his head on a swivel. But after almost 16 hours working on a bale breaker, he was exhausted, and had stopped paying attention.

And as he did, in fact, bump into someone, he cursed himself, struggling to find his manners and plaster on a cumbersome smile. All attempts dropped as he realized exactly who it was he bumped into. Sterling may have been a quiet man, but he was rarely speechless.

He had to wonder exactly why a victor was hanging around the mills, and before he could stop himself, he opened his stupid mouth

"What's someone like you doing around here?"

God he wished he was still speechless.

[thatcherxblight]

Whitvale Room || with Cecelia Whitvale @ceceliaknowsbest

Since the death of his brother he'd had almost no family left, at least none that were blood related and wanted anything to do with them. But over the years he'd managed to build himself something of a new family, cobbling together connections that filled his life and gave him the love and care he'd always been so starved of. He'd long since counted Cecelia in that number and so it hadn't taken him long to organise a time that he and Lennox would visit once she was out of the hospital wing. As they walked down the corridors he allowed himself a smile, amused by the spring in his nephew's steps as soon as he'd told him where they were going. After watching the display of energy, Thatcher made them pause at the door and gave a quick warning to calm down slightly. Lennox had nodded solemnly but he could tell by the way the boy was shifting from foot to foot that his words had likely gone in one ear and out the other. They were expected so with a rap on the door he opened it slightly, resisting the urge to hover awkwardly in the doorway out of habit when this was one of the few places he knew without any doubts he was wanted.

A few steps were taken into the Whitvale's room but Lennox had no such apprehension and was quick to hurl himself towards Cecelia, wrapping his arms around her legs with the exclamation of 'Auntie Cece.' Head shook, privately marvelling at just how quickly the boy managed to forget his lecture but he struggled to find any sort of firmness in his tone as gentle caution leaves his mouth. "Easy bud." But he'd barely breathed life into the words when his nephew suddenly decided that the brash show of affection was enough; attention then claimed by Satina who he ran to without hesitation. Any hesitation he might have felt was dissipated by Lennox's bold display and he's greeting his friend with a warm smile. "It's good to see you." A vast understatement but then he'd never been particularly adapt at finding words for his feelings or even identifying them well. All that mattered was that he'd missed her and that she was safe now.