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Lavender wasn't a prideful person. She especially didn't take pride in the life she currently leads. A life that promised the prospect of death at any moment. And perhaps she's become okay with the idea of dying just as Hazelle has, but something about the other woman's acceptance of death bothered Lavender. To her, there was an evident difference between being okay and accepting. Sure, it was a fine line, but to Lavender acceptance went hand in hand with compliance and Lavender was the farthest thing from compliant. At least in the eyes of those that "mattered".

For a change, Lavender sheds her usual cold exterior, warming under the guise that maybe this display of rebellion has startled Hazelle in a way that Lavender should be empathetic towards. So, she sighs, leaning against the elongated balcony, swallowing her mouthful of fancy food. "You're allowed to be afraid." The raven-haired woman settles on, her gaze surveying Hazelle's expression. Mira was always better at this type of thing. She could picture it now. Mira would extend a hand and rub the shoulder of those distressed, her sweet honey-like voice arriving like a sense of newfound relief. While Mira was a relief, Lavender was a knife cutting the tension. Both were useful but starkly different. "But don't let fear diminish your will to fight, Hazelle."

By some miracle, the balcony where they stood begins to empty. Loud music and chatter sound from the ongoing party just feet from them. "Breathe." Lavender says through the noise, nodding to Hazelle, "Breathe. It looks like you're holding your breath. Don't be arrogant, everything is inevitable no matter what. Just take a breath for now before you turn purple." Her head cants to the side before speaking once more, "Have you spoken to Gale? What's his stance on all of this?" Of course, Lavender already has a baseline idea of what Gale was thinking tonight. But she also has a feeling Hazelle may need to release her thoughts and free them from the cage of her mind.

Hazelle's spent most of this party trying to get away from it, despite the Capitol's best efforts to suck her in. The shock of the Games montage and Gale's reaction to it left her reeling — not because she's angry at him, but because she fears for him, as she always has. They're all in over their heads here and all Hazelle wants is for her family to be safe. But there's something happening that she can't stop, Hazelle's seen it unfurling since they whipped her son in the town square and if she's really honest with herself, she's seen it long before then too. But it's all too much for her, it's too difficult to understand when she's already been trying to come to terms with her own death sentence the last few days, so she sneaks away for some much needed fresh air and a chance to let herself breathe.

But she's not alone out here, and she shouldn't have expected to be. Hazelle's known Lavender for all of one week and already she's already got a bad taste in her mouth for her, and the woman doesn't seem to like her very much either. Callousness has never shied Hazelle away from anyone before, but this woman is on another level with her sharp version of greeting that cuts deeper than it probably should. What ever happened to a simple 'hello?' "Shouldn't I?" A scoff leaves her, out of place in the opulence that surrounds them — but this is what the Capitol gets for allowing district people into their mix. "Don't know what the hell else you think I'm supposed to make of their little highlight reel. Seems inevitable just from that."

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[Caesar] Lavender you impressed us with the score you got during training! As a woman from district nine, can you please tell the people of Panem what winning the Quarter Quell would mean to you?

The overhead lights were too warm, causing Lavender to perspire under her meticulously put-together garment. Her designer insisted on something more eye-catching which was leaps and bounds from Lavender's usual attire consisting of all things "plain", as her designer would say. To make matters worse, the audience doesn't seem exactly captivated by her. Not in the right way, at least. Lavender was a quiet being. She's cold, dignified, and cautious, and perhaps that much was hard to hide while in front of a crowd of people who marvel at the idea of watching her inevitable demise.

"That's quite the follow-up question to the previous one about my outfit, Caesar." Lavender quips with a chuckle, causing a stir of laughter in the crowd. Annoyingly, the sound calms her nerves. She then sighs gently, her face falling a tad. Her expression turns more contemplative and the sigh seems to make for good television as she witnesses everyone lean a little closer, now eager for her true answer.

"Nine is detrimental. As a young girl, I learned quickly that without grain, only starvation follows. And I'm not here to convince you or anybody that my humble beginnings are worth a bargain or the glimmering attention of anyone here. But, if I were to win, I'd hope it would make everyone see how important we are. How every District isn't just a cog in a well-oiled machine. We're not just parts. We're hardworking people with nothing to prove but not much to spare other than our hard work." She turns her gaze from the crowd of people that have now been lulled to an uneasy silence and back to Caesar, "If I were to win, it would mean very much to me if reality set in. Because the reality is, Caesar, that without us you'd be like every unfortunate but hardworking tribute that never made it out of that arena." Lavender smiles a little, "Dead."

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closed for: @fatefought / annie cresta. location: the capitol, caesar flickerman’s afterparty.

Annie Cresta made Lavender Park a curious person. Most saw Annie as this broken doll, the image of madness. And perhaps, in many ways, she was and always will be the poster child for what a mind's capacity could truly handle. But, to Lavender, she was something different. Something more. As a young girl, Lavender dreamt of being like Annie. Or at least being known by someone like her. Because of this, Lavender feels a specific set of emotions toward her. The emotions rested in the middle of a certain spectrum. The spectrum of protection and sadness. Perhaps this sadness stemmed from an empathetic version of what most would assume was just pity. But it wasn't, or at least Lavender tries not to turn it into pity.

After the deaths of former tributes were out on display for everyone to see, Lavender finds herself wondering how Annie might be doing. This wasn't easy on anyone, that much was certain. But she couldn't quite imagine being a victor in this scenario, watching the grizzly acts you once performed play out for everyone to see again. And this time it's not for selfish entertainment. It's used to make a point.

"Annie," Lavender greets gently, canting her head to the side as she approaches the younger woman. She takes a seat just beside her before continuing to speak, "Are you alright? That was, um, that was quite a scene."

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closed for: @perfectaches / hazelle hawthorne. location: the capitol, caesar flickerman's afterparty.

The image of bloodshed replays in Lavender's head, all knives and unfortunate death. You'd think the scene that unfolded tonight would bring a sense of misplaced triumph, the rebellion pulling off something so direct even at an event like this. But Lavender feels as though all they're doing is pointing a metaphorical finger. As if that's ever gotten anyone anywhere. We're pointing out the obvious, she remembers saying to her fellow rebels, what more could this do? Perhaps the broadcast will still ruffle some feathers, maybe now that much was certain after it's been done, but the party persists. People still clink their glasses and make faces at one another as makeshift endearment. And Lavender still feels angry, the memory of Mira brought back to the forefront of her mind after their successful display of anti-compliance. And maybe, in hindsight, her subtle distaste for the plan was made semi-selfishly. She couldn't think of Mira anymore. Not now, anyway, and all this did was bring the thought of her back to Lavender in the worst way.

That leads her here, on the balcony that she thought would be empty. No, she would never escape the likes of Capitol folk. No matter what, all of them and their pristine feathers, comfortable compliance, and riches will remain. When she turns her gaze away from the sky and spots Hazelle, her bad mood doesn't flinch. In fact, it sours, a certain kind of bitterness rising to the surface.

"Is that what you make of your fate?" Lavender asks, grabbing hors d'oeuvres from a passerby waitress holding food on a glimmering silver plate. Lavender shoves the whole thing in her mouth before speaking again, "Just another death on the screen?"

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everything ends and that's the saddest thing i'll ever hear.

backstory. statistics. musings. connections.

general info.

full name: lavender park date of birth: december 13th place of birth: district 9 role: tribute gender: cis woman pronouns: she/her sexuality: lesbian personality traits: mindful, precise, driven, callous, rigid, dishonest

backstory overview.

trigger warning(s): death.

born and raised in district 9 to very standoffish and mostly absent parents who maintained a wheat farm.

felt very bored and ached for change all through her formative years.

met and befriended a fellow district 9 resident named mira. the two became inseparable in no time.

lavender and mira's friendship quickly turned romantic over time as the two fell in love with one another.

mira became sick in their early teens and only grew sicker but this didn't stop the love they had for one another.

mira eventually was picked to be a tribute in the 51st hunger games and lavender tried to take her place but mira stopped her. because she was sick, she felt as though she was going to die anyway and decided to go despite the hunger games being her biggest fear.

this obviously destroyed lavender. mira ended up dying at the hands of a feline infestation during the games. if not for this, she would have died of her illness inside the arena regardless.

after the trauma of losing mira, lavender became a scorned woman with a hardened shell.

she began her work with the rebellion just before getting picked as a tribute for the quarter quell, her anger towards the world consuming her whole and fueling her position in the games.

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[dongeun looking at yeojeong]