burntgcds

[burntgcds]

WHEN ASH WANDERED THROUGH THE TRAINING CENTER, IT BROUGHT BACK MEMORIES OF HER GAME THREE YEARS AGO. She was wide-eyed and scared as she struggled to use the sword and heavier weapons, having settled on speed over strength pretty early on. Now, there wasn't a hint of fear in her eyes as she listened to Dyna's words. The only thing running through her mind is that she'd love to make the Capitol burn for forcing her to fight for her life once again.

"I haven't relaxed since I was seventeen." She murmured, eyes shifting back over to the gamemaker's station. She shot a glare towards the nearest gamemaker, holding their gaze until the individual shifted their attention elsewhere. A ghost of a smirk pulled at her lips at the sight. Let them be scared of her and what she could do to them. They deserve to feel a bit on edge after the plot twist they pulled. "But fine, let's see what you got. I'll probably end up fighting with someone eventually." If I don't get taken out immediately.

Dyna didn’t smile, exactly, but something in their face relaxed. They stepped back from the edge of the mat, giving Ash space.

“Climbing’s smart,” they said, voice low and even. “Keeps you out of the worst of it. But if someone catches you before you get off the ground… that’s where this comes in.”

They gave the mat a nudge with their foot, as if to say no way around it.

Their eyes flicked over Ash, measuring, not judging. Dyna remembered the footage. The lion. The prosthetics gleaming under Victory gold. The way Ash had stared into the camera afterward, like she was daring someone to say congratulations and mean it.

“You don’t need to punch like the rest of them,” Dyna said after a beat. “We can work with what you’ve got. Leverage, weight, angles. Real hand-to-hand isn’t about fists anyway. It’s about balance. And how fast you can take it from someone else.”

They rubbed the back of their neck, then looked at Ash squarely.

“I'm not here to suck up to that glass box,” they said. Quieter, just for Ash. “Just trying to keep people alive longer than the Capitol wants them to be. Relax a little. This is not about them, this is about you.”

A pause. An offer, then.

“If you’re up for it, I can help you throw someone twice your size without lifting a hand.”

[burntgcds]

THOUGH PRIMROSE KNEW THEY WERE WALKING INTO A LION'S DEN, THEY DID SO WILLINGLY. They could still remember the year Katniss volunteered for the games and how they could do nothing but watch as she got whisked back to the Capitol. They felt helpless back then, and they vowed not to feel that way again. This time, they refused to wait for Katniss back in their home district. If Katniss was going to the Capitol, they'd tuck themself beneath her wings and go there as well.

But their cheeks flushed at Katniss' question. They hadn't really thought about her reaction or what they'd do once they got to the Capitol-- only running on adrenaline to get there. "They put out a call for medics, so I volunteered," Prim said sheepishly. They finished patching up the other tribute and watched as they watched away before directing their gaze to their sister. Their eyes fell on her swollen ankle and a frown pierced their lip, "Katniss... you're hurt."

open     to     —     @burntgcds

a  fear  has  lingered  since  she  left  district  twelve,  and  here  it  is  realised  before  her.  prim  in  her  medic’s  gear,  tending  to  one  of  the  tributes  wounded  in  today’s  training.  she’s  heard  it  during  those  few  capitol  trips,  a  call  for  those  skilled  enough  to  come  work  in  the  capitol  now  that  so  many  are  choosing  to  work  for  themselves,  choosing  more  glamorous  professions  which  leaves  the  city  lacking  in  those  such  as  her  sister.  skilful,  healing  hands.  that  elusive,  innate  ability  to  help  those  who  suffer,  something  which  has  never  been  natural  to  katniss  who  only  feels  at  home  in  the  woods,  bow  in  hands  and  far  from  the  pain  of  those  in  the  district  who  must  now  be  missing  prim.  because  she’s  here,  she’s  in  the  training  centre,  she  is  so  close  to  snow  that  he  can  probably  smell  katniss’s  anxiety  prickling. “primrose,”  her  voice  catches  on  the  name  which  has  been  closest  to  her  chest  all  these  years.  the  sister  she  has  protected  with  everything  within  her  now  stands  there,  deep  in  the  belly  of  the  beast,  that  very  beast  which  has  been  digesting  katniss  for  eighteen,  long  years.  “when  did  you…  what  are  you  doing  here?”  she  tries  to  put  a  timeline  on  it;  her  first  day  of  training  coming  to  a  close  and  katniss  with  a  swollen  ankle  following  a  brawl  on  the  mats.  “i  told  you  to  stay  with  mom.”  she  ignores  the  other  tribute  entirely,  her  heart  pounding  as  the  realisation  sits  with  her,  that  her  sister  is  too  close  to  everything  which  tries  to  destroy  katniss  everdeen.

[burntgcds]

ANNIE HAD NIGHTMARES ABOUT THE REAPING EVER SINCE HER NAME WAS CALLED YEARS AGO, BUT THIS TIME, HER HAUNTING CAME TO LIFE. Hearing her name called shattered her, but it was Finnick's reaping that broke her altogether. She spent years trying to pull herself out of the void she fell into due to her games, and she only managed to see the light thanks to him. Now, she could potentially see him succumb to the same fate as her old district partner, and it was almost worse than if she had gone in herself.

"I can't do this, Finn..." She murmured, burying her face into his chest as he held her. The tears flowed freely from her eyes as she looked at her lover, scared that this may be one of the last times she'd see him. "I can't lose you and Nora both." She listened to his reassurance and longed for it to take hold, but the fear of the arena still wrapped itself around the victor. The games were unpredictable-- she knew that better than most. Still, there was a hope that he was telling the truth. "Promise me you'll make it to the end?"

after the reaping @burntgcds

the second his name was reaped he felt heartbroken but not for himself, for her. The idea of leaving Annie was too much for him to even think about. The second the reaping was over and they were in private he wraps his arms around her, holding her like he might never see her again; like she'd slip away is he loosened his grip. "I'm so glad you're not going back in. I'd rather it be me any day of the week." He couldn't even think about himself he was just so relieved that she wouldn't have to relive that. "Don't you worry, okay? I'll come home to you. I'm not going anywhere, I'm going home to you." Finnick pulled away from the hug to look into her eyes. He wanted her to believe the words he was saying just like he was trying to believe them himself. "I'm coming back."

[burntgcds]

ONE BENEFIT TO BEING ONE OF THE FEW VICTORS FOR DISTRICT 11 IS THE SILENCE THAT ENGULFS THE VILLAGE. Cerise had never been a social creature, having been forced to raise themself from a young age. Perhaps that's why they find Celestina's presence grating--- that, and their shared history together. Not only did they have to endure her shrill voice, but they also had the reminder of their flawed choice in lover every time she came around.

"I didn't know you Capitolites knew how to be nice. Are you feeling okay? Or did you drink poisoned tea again?" Cerise had a habit of poisoning those who pissed them off, and the escort did that more often than most people. "What do you know about strategizing?" They scoffed, shaking their head at the girl. "I'll just hide away and poison the survivors like last time."

Celestina had made her fair share of ill-advised decisions throughout her life. She'd cut her own bangs when she was seventeen, gone through a tie dye phase, worn a cream dress to her cousin's wedding – she'd even lost her neighbour's cat when she was supposed to be petsitting. Most of these decisions had had no real lasting impact. She'd grown out the bangs, thrown out the tie dye, bought her cousin a lovely wedding gift, and tracked down the missing cat. Unfortunately, not all things are so early reversed – and her decision to become involved with Cerise continued to besiege her, despite their tryst now being squarely in the past.

"I wasn't apologising," She says, barging past Cerise and making her way into their abode. She drops her handbag on the counter and takes root on the sofa, "I was just being nice. I wouldn't expect you to understand, since you have the social prowess of a wolverine." Celestina scoffs, "Please, don't flatter yourself. I'd sooner off myself over a stain on this dress than your sticky end. But," She holds up her hands, "I'm not here to fight. You're always so hostile – it's not an attractive quality, you know. I'm here to strategise." She grins, something wicked and warning.

[burntgcds]

HONORE FELT USELESS IN HIS CURRENT POST, BUT HE KNEW IT WASN'T THE RIGHT TIME TO STEP IN AND SAVE THE TRIBUTES. No, his orders were to monitor the situation and prepare for plans later down the line. He didn't like it, though--- he wanted to put a stop to the games as soon as possible, but a soldier knew when to bow his head and trust the guidance of his superiors. He just hoped their plans would pan out and they'd be able to stop the bloodshed before it occurred.

Honore's body settled next to HANI JANG as the duo observed the tributes as they moved around the training center. Selfishly, he was happy that Hani hadn't been thrown back into the arena. He felt better knowing she was safe as a mentor, even if it meant two others were forced to endure the arena in her stead.

"I'd say it eventually gets easier, but I can't make any promises. If it helps, you're always welcome to join me if you miss the thrill of peacekeeping." He nudged her softly, unsure how to go about making it better. What can one say to ease the burden of the games, when one hasn't felt that stress before? "I'm sorry this is happening, Hani. Let me know if you need any help from my end."

who: hani jang & open ( @burntgcds & @likeallfires & @vilebodys *(3/5 slots taken) ) where: the training center

The 92nd Games weren’t like the others. These weren’t children. These were people she knew. People she’d fought beside. People who had already survived once. And now, the Capitol had dragged them all back, dressed it up like celebration, and called it legacy.

Hani hadn’t asked to be a mentor. She hadn’t wanted it. Peacekeeping during the Games cycles had at least given her the illusion of distance. Patrolling the edges. Keeping her head down. Being present without being involved. But this? This was personal. Every instruction felt like betrayal.

She watched someone hover too close to her peripheral. Hani didn’t look at them right away. Just stared out at the training floor, where the girl from District 9 was fumbling through trap disarmament with shaking hands. Hani had taught that same girl how to cheat the surveillance nets two years ago at a Victor’s party. Now she was back, trying to survive again.

“You ever forget what your job is mid-sentence?” she asked suddenly, voice low, dry, not exactly directed at the person beside her but not avoiding them either. “I keep starting to tell them where the peacekeepers usually post up around the training center, like I’m still on crowd control.”

She finally glanced at the figure next to her.

“Guess muscle memory’s a bitch.”

[burntgcds]

HONORE WAS TIED TO HIS DUTY LIKE A DOG ON A LEASH, BUT SOMETIMES, HE FOUND HIS MIND DRIFTING AWAY FROM THE MISSION. It often happened when Mina was present. Perhaps it was because she was a moment away from the chaos of planning a rebellion, or because he quietly wondered what life with her would be like post-war. Either way, it was a dangerous game to play with the rebellion fast underway and Mina's friends and family unaware of the events unfolding before them.

"They are, and they'll get what they deserve in the end. I'll make sure of it." Honore hated how the Capitolites treated Mina and the other victors. Though he escaped the worries that came with the yearly reaping, it didn't take much to know that the victors had been through hell and back. They deserved to live out the rest of their lives peacefully, not constantly enduring the wants of the people who took away their childhood.

He glanced up at Mina's question, a softness in his eyes at the worry evident on her face. He wished he could fully invite her into his world, but his mother was cautious when it came to the victor's involvement. Mina had eyes on her throughout the Capitol-- it was risky to include her in such an important mission. Still, he felt comforted at the thought of her worrying about his well-being. "You'll have your chance. It's just too risky right now. People will notice if you disappear from the party." His hand gently clung to hers, his thumb stroking the side of her hand for a brief second before he pulled away. That's all he could allow himself--- a few seconds of her touch before he began to feel unworthy. "I promise I'll be safe. You won't even notice I left."

has  she  ever  had  a  friend  like  honore?  mina  was  popular  enough  growing  up,  but  her  commitment  to  working  alongside  her  father  is  what  held  her  back  from  forming  those  true  childhood  friendships.  she  was  close  with  some  for  a  while,  but  the  games  and  who  she  became  in  their  aftermath  has  since  ripped  her  connections  clean  from  her  grasp.  and  then  she  met  him,  and  how  easily  they've  grown  to  care  for  each  other.  it's  so  unlike  her  to  trust  these  days,  but  here  she  is  spending  the  night  in  his  bed  and  knowing,  more  than  anything,  that  she's  safest  here.  with  a  hum,  she  pulls  her  legs  up  and  under  herself,  relaxing  against  the  couch  cushions  which  feel  so  familiar  beneath  her  weight.  how  many  years  has  it  been?  more  than  she  wants  to  admit. “they're  sick.”  she  sighs,  head  shaking  as  she  sips  on  her  coffee,  a  necessity  if  she  has  any  hope  of  getting  through  the  morning,  let  alone  what  ever  else  this  day  has  in  store  for  her.  a  reminder  of  her  games,  to  watch  herself  fall  apart  in  the  chaos  of  the  arena,  to  soak  herself  in  blood  until  there  is  no  mina  dewitt  left,  but  whatever  animal  she  had  become  in  the  middle  of  that  snow  storm.  “my  hero.”  she  smiles,  biting  on  her  lower  lip  as  she  looks  across  at  him.  comfortable,  at  home,  mina  reaches  to  switch  on  the  television  and  turn  to  the  news.  it  would  almost  feel  like  a  normal  day  if  she  weren't  in  the  capitol,  the  dread  a  living  thing  which  seems  to  crawl  up  her  spine  each  time  she  comes  here.  “the  party…  you're  ready?  i  wish  they'd  let  me  do  something.”  she  frowns,  a  wrinkle  forming  between  her  brows.  “just  be  safe.  please.”

[burntgcds]

IT FELT WEIRD BEING BACK IN THE TRAINING CENTER--- AS IF ASH HAD NEVER TRULY LEFT. And maybe she hadn't, given her games were only three years behind her. One may think that was an advantage, that Ash didn't feel "rusty" or unprepared for the physical demands of the arena like some of the older tributes, but Ash wasn't the most physical victor. She won her games through a mixture of agility and luck, not brute strength and bloodthirst.

And perhaps that's why Ash didn't notice she had wandered into one of the stations until DYNA EMERY spoke. A dry laugh escaped her lips as the woman revealed the station she stumbled upon, knowing how this would end even before she stepped onto the mat. Still, she couldn't exactly back out now.

"Hand-to-hand combat, huh? Just my luck." She mumbled, already dreading the training she was about to receive. At the next comment, her eyes flicked upwards to examine the gamemakers in their glass enclosure. She knew they were eyeing her, as well as the other tributes, to see who to put money on as they entered the games. Ash hoped none would bet on her--- she'd be damned if she let the rich get richer based on her suffering. "Trust me, I doubt I'd impress anyone. I'm only doing this until the climbing stations open up."

who: dyna emery & open ( @burntgcds *(1/5 slots taken) ) where: the training center, combat station 4

Dyna stood near the hand-to-hand mat, arms loosely crossed, one hip resting against the edge of a padded divider. The training hall buzzed around her. Metal clashing, voices murmuring, tributes rotating between stations like pieces on a game board. Above it all, the Gamemakers watched from their perch, sipping from crystal glasses like they were here for a show.

She’d learned not to look up at them.

Instead, she focused on the mat beneath her feet, the scuff marks worn in from too many hours of contact drills. The station had always been her favorite, something about the simplicity of it. No weapons. No theatrics. Just movement. Precision. Breath.

Footsteps approached. She glanced up as a victor turned tribute stepped into the station. Someone familiar, though that wasn’t saying much. They were all familiar.

She offered a small nod, letting her arms drop to her sides.

“Morning,” she said, voice low but even, the Capitol crispness softened at the edges. “This is Station Four. Hand-to-hand.” A faint breath of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “We’ll start slow. Basic stance, then reaction drills. No need to impress anyone.”

Her eyes flicked briefly - just once - toward the glass above.

“Just stay on your feet.”

[burntgcds]

ANNIE'S WORST NIGHTMARE HAD COME TRUE THE MOMENT HER NAME WAS CALLED FOR THE GAMES ONCE MORE. She spent years of her life struggling to tell whether or not she had been thrust back into the arena that haunted her since her youth, only for the true reality to creep in when she was least expecting it. The only shift between her illusion and reality had been the words that escaped Nora's mouth after the reaping revealed her fate.

She looked at her old friend, and tears formed in her eyes at the thought of her and Finnick disappearing into the arena. Her body lunged forward and wrapped the woman in her arms, as if fighting to remember that this wasn't a figment of her imagination, before she pulled away. "Nora, you were safe..." She murmured, looking away as the tears began to fall. "Why?"

@burntgcds || Annie & Nora Where: District 4, just post reaping

I volunteer as tribute

The sentence kept echoing through Nora's mind. A bit of disbelief that she'd even said them. Her mind kept warring between fear, anger and confusion. So much so that she couldn't quite remember being led backstage once the reaping was over. Only now was he starting to come back to. She looked around giving a tired little smirk as she spotted Annie.

"Don't look at me like that."

[burntgcds]

CERISE WAS NO FOOL--- THEY KNEW WHAT THE ANNOUNCEMENT MEANT FOR THEM AND THEIR SHORT-LIVED PEACE. District 11 didn't have enough victors to keep Cerise out of the arena, and even if they had as many as District 2 or 4, they knew there was always a high chance they'd get sent back in. They could only imagine that the Capitol saw them as a threat due to their affinity for poisons. After all, people can dodge knives and blades. Poison creeps in slowly and doesn't rear its head until it's too late.

It was morbid, but their only comfort was that they knew who their opponents would be this time around. They weren't one for making alliances and relying on others to get ahead, but they could at least know who to hover around and who to avoid going into the arena. VOLTAIRE OWENS was one of the individuals they could see themself tracking in the arena--- both to annoy him until the bitter end, and because they know he's smart and should be watched closely. The brutes will go after one another in the arena-- it's the quiet ones that will determine the winner.

"And risk having to go against Beetee in the arena? Yeah right." Truthfully, they knew any of the District 3 victors would be a pain to go against. All of them are far more intelligent than they could ever be, and they were curious to see who would be dealt the short end of the stick. "I'll let you pick out your poison when we meet in the arena, though. Consider it a small mercy."

who: voltaire owens && cerise ito ( @burntgcds ) where: a hole-in-the-wall bar near the capitol city center when: late evening the night after the caesar's announcement

volt doesn't usually drink. he's been known to nurse a glass of champagne the entire evening at capitol parties, some part him never wanting to indulge too much for fear of not being totally in control around the vultures that circled the district's victors. even back in district three- especially back in district three- when the darkness in his memory bleeds through and he wakes up in cold sweats, adrenaline rushing like fire through his veins, his hand reaches for calming tea over the brown bottles filled with liquid fire to calm the tremble in his soul. it's not as if he hasn't fallen too far into a bottle, drowning sorrow and despair when the weight of it became too much-- but those times have been few and far between.

in the low-light of the bar where music floats in and out of the low buzz of conversation, spiking with laughter or a raised voice, long fingers curl around a glass of amber liquid. it's the second he's had, the screaming in his mind from the night before having quieted and now those gears in his mind have been churning thought hundreds of miles per hour; ( perhaps the fire he pours down his throat will slow the gears down a touch ). his tongue sits still behind lips that are slightly pursed, eyes staring at the bottle that had filled his glass moments before- not looking at it but merely focusing on it- and at first he's unaware of the presence beside him. his gaze flickers to the side and the corner of his mouth picks up briefly in a smirk that doesn't touch his eyes that have dropped to the glass in front of him.

"didn't happen to slip anything in when i wasn't looking, did you?" it's a mild question, tinged with a hint of the inside joke between the two of them as it leaves him dryly. the glass is lifted and volt gives the contents a gentle stir before letting his gaze drift back to cerise, "nightlock, perhaps? arsenic?"

[burntgcds]

ANNIE OFTEN HAD NIGHTMARES ABOUT THIS VERY SCENARIO. She's been haunted by her arena since the moment she escaped, and she's spent one too many nights waking up in a cold sweat after picturing herself back in the arena that damaged her so greatly. It was awful to think about herself and other tributes heading back into the games after they were promised peace, and Annie knew she had to slip away from the crowd before she passed out from the anxiety of it all.

She never grew up around flowers, having been raised in a small fishing village in District 4, but perhaps the new environment was a perfect distraction for her racing mind. The flora was helping to calm her down a bit (as much as possible when one's nightmare becomes true in the blink of an eye), but she paused her descent when she heard a woman's voice. At first, she thought she was just imagining things, that the past and present began bleeding together once more, but then she spotted GUINEVERE MOREL and her body eased slightly.

"So it wasn't just my mind playing a trick on me." She spoke sadly, settling next to the girl. Her nails dug into her arm at the knowledge that she'd have to be haunted once more. "I see myself back in my arena all the time... my mind has a hard time figuring out if I'm there or made it out. Even this evening, I felt the water in my lungs again." Annie knew she must've come across as unwell, but she had long accepted that reputation. "Do you ever revisit your arena?"

open starter - president snow's gardens

guinevere did not know how she had made her way to the gardens. she had some vague recollection of caeser flickerman's announcement, of cheers and congratulations and embraces as she stumbled through the ballroom, desperate to escape into fresh air, to wake up from this awful dream. she came to crouched in a rose bush, the thorns pricking at her skin through the thin fabric of her dress, drawing blood.

how much more of her blood would be drawn before she could finally have peace? she did not have it in her to endure another arena, not when the last had so throughly destroyed her, but she was not fool enough to believe there would be some volunteer to save her. even in district one, with all its zeal for victory, you would not find a soul qho desired a second attempt at the games.

"not again," she whispered into the night, as though the stars above may take mercy on her, "please, not again."

[burntgcds]

PRIMROSE WAS SCARED SHE'D STRUGGLE ADAPTING TO THE CAPITOL WAY OF LIFE, BUT SO FAR, SHE MANAGED OKAY. She liked to think it was because she had people like Katniss and Jett to make her feel more grounded and less overwhelmed by her surroundings. She grinned at Jett's comment, doing a slight spin in the too-fancy dress that she borrowed. "Jett!" She giggled, listening to him speak about the Capitolites and their festivities. "These people are weird. One guy asked me for a lock of my hair. How did you handle growing up with them?"

@burntgcds

"Primrose I do believe you get more radiant every time I see you." Jett grinned making his way over to her. He'd always had a soft spot for the Everdeen sisters although Primrose was by far the most likable of the two. "I'm so glad you're joining us for the festivities, we need more normal people around here, although I do feel sorry for you having to be around these people. They’re insufferable at the best of times.”

[burntgcds]

ASH HAD NEVER FELT LIKE THE LUCKIEST PERSON, BUT OVER THE PAST FEW YEARS, IT SEEMED LIKE LADY LUCK HAD A PERSONAL VENDETTA AGAINST HER. To be ripped from her quiet home and thrown into the games on the last year of eligibility, with comparisons to her sister being thrown at her the entire run, almost die in the arena, and learn that only three years later she'd potentially have to go in again felt like one sick joke, but she knew it was the way the Capitol worked. The ones in charge always had to find ways to kick others when they're down, and in this case, it had to be the victors.

"I'm not shocked they went back on their word, but I'm sure as shit not at peace with it. I'm pissed off that I'm going to have to do this all over again." For Ash knew that if it came to it, the Capitol would always choose Mina over her. She was the expendable sister--- the one that could be sacrificed if it meant keeping their silver-haired doll alive. It wasn't a matter of if she was going into the arena, but how she's going to manage to escape when she barely lasted the first time around.

"Ha! The man would kick me out the moment he laid eyes on me. I'm not one of his favorite victors, which is fine by me. I'd rather scare the Capitolites off than have them clinging to me all day." At Selin's late realization, Ash grinned. "Welcome to the dark side. If you want to be a problem with me, I was going to throw some glass bottles against the wall outside and wait and see how long it took for someone to accidentally step on them."

       ash’s  words  hit  her  with  a  sobering  realization.  one  that  had  settled  in  quietly  but  never  really  dared  to  break  through  the  fragile  construct  of  hope.  it  had  only  been  three  years  since  her  games,  selin’s  were  already  twelve  years  past  and  the  wounds  still  felt  fresh,  as  if  they’d  never  close.  so  she  could  only  imagine  how  fresh  ash’s  pain  must  be. for  a  moment,  she  studied  ash’s  face.  and  for  all  the  years  between  them,  she  felt  a  quiet  ache  of  familiarity.  the  recognition  from  being  cut  from  the  same  brutal  cloth,  and  stitched  back  with  seams  too  delicate  to  ever  last.  only  that  it  seemed  like  that  ash’s  seams  were  made  out  of  something  stronger.  something  steadier  as  she  appeared  to  be  far  more  composed  than  she  could  be  today.        “  you  sound  like,  you’ve  already  made  peace  with  it,  like  you  expected  this.”  none  of  them  could’ve  predicted  this,  but  it  was  foolish  to  trust  the  capitol.  the  empty  promise  of  peace  had  never  made  its  way  out  of  the  capitol.even  after  the  games,  they  still  were  treated  like  dolls,  pretty  things  meant  to  be  used  and  posed  the  way  the  capitol  wanted  them  to.  “  you’re  right.  it  feels  like  they  waited  until  it’d  hurt  the  most.  until  we  were  settled.”        she  knew  ash  wasn’t  serious  and  yet,  the  thought  of  it  made  her  laugh,  slightly  trembling  at  the  edges.  not  full  or  bright,  but  real.   “  okay,  i’ll  knock  on  snow’s  door  and  demand  an  explanation,  but  only  if  you  come  with  me.”  a  grin  broke  through.  this  was  as  defiant  as  she’d  get  today.  making  up  a  scenario  that  she  knew  would  lead  straight  to  their  deaths,  even  before  they  even  had  the  chance  of  being  reaped.  “  i  could  shed  some  tears,  they  love  to  see  those.”  it  was  all  absurd,  all  of  it,  but  it  was  all  she  had  this  moment.  after  the  reaping,  if  her  name  was  called,  she  couldn’t  afford  to  cling  to  anything  else.  “  they  might  remember  we’re  real  people”  her  tone  fell.  “  maybe  being  a  problem  is  the  only  thing  left  for  us.  there’s  nothing  we  can  do,  right  ?  ” 

[burntgcds]

THOUGH ANNIE COULDN'T BEAR WATCHING THE GAMES AFTER HER OWN, SHE KNEW OF PEETA MELLARK AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF HIS WIN. It had been one of the few moments that gave her a sense of hope--- that perhaps the world wasn't dark and haunted like her memories. It was short-lived with the return of one victor every year since, but there's always been a bit of longing for a repeat of Peeta's games.

But perhaps her longing for a repeat of the games was taken too literally. To know that glimpses of their traumas were on display just inside the walls near them was enough to spike her anxiety once more. Her hand shakily grabbed his, intertwining their fingers together as she nodded at his request.

But just after she settled down on a bench outside the event venue, memories of her games began flooding her mind. She saw herself hiding out in a cave and felt the way the area shook as water began taking over the terrain. She remembered the way her legs ached from swimming, and her gasps became more labored as water filled her lungs. Her hands squeezed Peeta's tightly as she shut her eyes, only letting herself speak softly, "I can't..." The words came out just above a whisper, as if she were fighting to save her breath in case the memories became true, "I can't do it. The water, I--" She paused for a second before finishing her fractured thought, "I can't drown again."

THERE WERE A FEW THINGS PEETA MELLARK KNEW AS FACT. One: the Capitol would never understand the cost of what it called entertainment. Two: the things you survived didn’t stay in the past. And three: no one should have to carry that weight alone. Especially no one like Annie Cresta.

He'd slipped out -- unnoticed for now -- because though he might know how to play a crowd, even the baker's boy needed a minute to himself. Peeta steadied himself as Annie stumbled into him, her body trembling, eyes wide with panic and disorientation. When she gasped and tried to retreat, to hide the tears spilling down her cheeks, Peeta gently reached a hand out -- not to stop her, but to offer something solid to hold on to if she needed it, palm outstretched. "You don't have to be sorry," he assured. "I came out here to get away too," he added, glancing back toward the glass doors and the echoing Capitol cheers behind them. "Exhibits, holograms, speeches... it’s not for us. Not really." Peeta sighs, neck craned to the sky. The stars were barely visible, the light pollution nearly blocking out all there was to look at. He missed 12 with a sudden ferocity; he missed being able to look up at the sky and see all those clusters. He looked at her again, eyes warm despite everything. "You want to sit for a bit? I hear the Capitol can’t ruin the sky. Yet."

[burntgcds]

THERE WAS A CERTAIN REPETITION THAT CAME WITH CAPITOL EVENTS, BUT LIKE HIS PEERS, ARTEMAS KNEW HOW TO NAVIGATE IT. He grew up attending the same events with the same families, talking about the same topics until people grew bored and ventured back to their estates. He found that the key to survival was to stick close to a few familial faces and hope he could stretch the conversation long enough to run out the clock.

Luckily, he felt comfortable with Cloelia as his conversation partner. He grew up around the Snow family due to his family name, and for the most part, he had no issues with them. It was really just the president who made him uncomfortable, and that was solely due to how his brother and uncle ended up due to his command. There was always a hesitation around him, as if Artemas suspected he may be next on the chopping block.

"I saw most of the Hunger Games exhibit, so I figured I'd branch off to other exhibits. Besides, you and I both know there are plenty of hiding spaces here. Easier to dodge the vultures." And by vultures, he meant the gossip-hungry Capitolites who are just looking for another scandal and a fall from fame. At her attention comment, he couldn't help but laugh, "Classic Snow. I bet your father's proud of that mentality."

From a young age, Cloelia was accustomed to extravagant parties in the Capitol that her father had hosted, and this time was no different. She loved watching everyone's scared faces and how it seemed like she and the rest of her family were the only ones who truly knew how the games worked; that was one of the things she had always loved about being a Snow. Well, that and the fact that no matter where she went, people practically bowed down to her with fear in their eyes, not wanting to get on the wrong side of her or her father.

Making her way over to the dining hall, she admires her father's collection and hopes that one day, when it is her turn to take over, she can make such an extravagant collection as her father's. If that day were to ever come, that is, because from the looks of it, her father isn't retiring until he breathes his last breath. She had been lost in thought when the young man had called her name, not fully paying attention to him until their eyes had met.

"Artemas, I didn't know you'd be here as well." She admitted, most of the people from the Capitol tended to avoid these things whenever they had the chance to, especially considering that they had been to one too many to count. "I suppose you could say it is a bit of both. What can I say? I love being the center of attention."

[burntgcds]

CERISE WASN'T AFRAID OF DEATH. They've hovered between life and death multiple times throughout their existence--- once in the arena, and many more times experimenting with their poisonous plants. They found they quite liked the rush of escaping death's clutches, but even a cat can go through nine lives quickly in this day and age. It was foolish to think that they could control when they met their end--- not with those in charge always looking for ways to further punish the districts for a rebellion that took place before most of the victors were alive.

They blinked at the sight of CELESTINA CHENG at their door, not quite in the mood to deal with the escort. "Am I supposed to say thank you for that half-assed apology?" They quip, half tempted to close the door on the girl and go about their day. The only reason they didn't was because they liked getting under the girl's skin. "At least I won't have to deal with you anymore, unless you follow me to the grave."

𝐖𝐇𝐎: CELESTINA CHENG & CERISE ITO ( @burntgcds ) 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: VICTOR'S ACCOMODATION 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: THE DAY AFTER PRESIDENTIAL PARTY, AFTERNOON

She'd debated whether or not to come. In an ideal world, she would've avoided speaking to Cerise again until the following year's reaping ceremony ( and maybe not even then – though her applications for a change in districts keep getting denied ). Alas, this was decidedly not an ideal world – this is a world where Cerise now faced the very real possibility of heading back into the arena. It wasn't as though District 11 had a vast pool of victors from which to draw – and the chance of Celestina plucking Cerese's name from the reaping bowl in six months' time was near certain.

For a brief, horrifying moment, Celestina had been been relieved that she wouldn't be sending any more children to their deaths this year – until the reality of the situation set in.

She hovers outside the door, debating whether or not to knock. It would be so easy to turn around now – to go home and pretend she'd never been here. Pretend that, despite everything that had happened between them, part of her didn't still care, even the tiniest amount, about Cerise. She knocks on the door and steels herself as it opens. "Look," She starts, holding up her hands in mock surrender, "I only came here to say that... I don't know, it sucks that you're probably going to die. Again." A huff, "Even though I hate you."

[burntgcds]

ASH NEVER TRULY TRUSTED THE CAPITOL'S HONEYED WORDS AND WHISPERED PROMISES TO THE VICTORS. She knew they only saw them as entertainment, and that the only reason they were kept alive after the games was because of their celebrity status and the reminder of their bloody pasts. She watched some victors get ushered off to the highest bidder, while others simply drank their sorrows or suffered with the memories of their past. Either way, none of the victors ended up with the peaceful life they were promised.

"Please, the only mistake is that they waited this long to pull some shit like this. But I guess they just wanted as many options as they could get before the big finale." Ash had accepted that there was a possibility she'd get thrown back into the games, only a few years since she last emerged half-alive and victorious. She knew there were a few other victors from her district, but truthfully, she knew she was one of the more expendable ones. Why keep a problem child when the golden child's right next to her? "You're welcome to go and tell them they can't do this. I'd like to see how they'd react to being told no. Probably paint District 8 as the problem children or something."

STATUS  :  OPEN LOCATION  :  anywhere  your  heart  desires 

     “  this  can’t  be  real. ”  her  voice  frayed,  a  smile  plastered  on  her  face  like  a  bandaid  slapped  on  a  festering  wound.  one  that  the  capitol  had  inflicted  a  long  time  ago,  one  that  had never  really  healed  and  was  now  opened  again.  she  turned  to  the  other,  her  head  shaking  as  if  denial  could  rewrite  the  truth.  she  almost  laughed,  but  the  sound  vanished as it was  simply  brushed  away  by  silence.          “  it  must  have  been  a  mistake.  it  doesn’t  make  sense,  right  ?”  but  it  did.  it  began  with  the  exhibition  reminding  them  of  who  they  belonged  to  and  it  would  end  in  the  arena  again.  in  death.   still,  selin  clung  to  disbelief.           “  they  promised  us  …  ”  her  voice  cracked  again,  splintering  like  glass  and  she  swallowed  the  shards.   “this  was  the  deal  right  ?  they  can’t  do  that.  again ...”  but  she knew  better.  that  naivety  was  a  privilege  she  wasn’t  allowed  to  borrow.   soon  reality  would  settle  ,  and  then  …  she  didn’t  know  what  would  happen  then.  but  now  she’d  allow  her  to  be  foolish.  hopeful.  although  hope  was  a  fragile  thing  and  she  was  holding  it  in  shaking  hands. 

[burntgcds]

HONORE VOWED TO PUT THE MISSION ABOVE EVERYTHING ELSE, AND THAT MEANT THAT FAILED MISSIONS WEIGHED HEAVY ON HIS SHOULDERS. He knew that he shouldn't carry the blame himself, that everyone who entered the Capitol under the guise of the rebellion knew the risks they signed up for, but he couldn't help but wonder if he could've done something to save Helbor from his fate. If he had gotten to the office a little earlier, would they have slipped away fast enough? Or was this mission always meant to fail from the start?

He forced those thoughts to the back of his mind as SAGE HAYASHI slid a glass towards him. As selfish as it was, he was grateful that none of his teammates were lost in the chaos of the birthday celebrations. He could handle a setback like last night, but watching his team slowly shrink was something he wasn't ready to deal with. No, better hope that nothing else goes wrong during their time at the Capitol.

"I know. The stuff in the Capitol doesn't compare to back home." It felt strange talking about District 13 when he's been undercover for so long, but he knew there were no prying eyes where they were. Capitolites didn't monitor medics as closely as other professions, and for that, he was grateful for Sage's profession. At her question, he winced. He had been asking himself the same thing since the discovery occurred. "There was a gunshot... it sounded like we didn't get to him in time. It's something we won't repeat moving forward." He sighed, hoping his words remained true. "How are you lately? Sleeping okay?"

time: evening.   location: sage's place. status: for @burntgcds.

sage  is  stuck  between  feeling  everything  and  nothing  at  all  ━━  between  acknowledging  that  helbor  is  dead  (  and  letting  grief  crawl  up  her  spine  )  and  letting  herself  not  even  think  about  it,  burying  it  deep  down  inside  of  her  mind.  deep  enough  that  none  could  dig  it  up. work  had  been  uneventful,  every  capitolite  distracted  by  the  announcement  of  the  quarter  quell  to  even  seek  any  medicine  for  their  stupid  headaches  ━━  how  lucky  they  are,  unknowingly  so  (  sage  would  not  have  been  kind,  she  would  not  have  been  soft  ).

one  of  the  few  that  could  defy  this  resolution  of  hers  stands  on  the  other  side  of  her  kitchen  island,  presence  announced  earlier  with  three  knocks  and  a  lot  of  patience.  sage  slides  a  glass  of  drink  towards  honore,  shoulders  weighed  down  by  everything  that  happened  the  night  before.  "i  wish  i  had  a  proper  drink."  and  by  proper,  she  means  some  homemade  moonshine  that  might  take  everything  away,  even  if  only  for  a  night.

sage  doesn't  look  at  honore  straight  on  ━━  she  can't,  the  comfort  of  his  presence  just  enough  to  break  the  dam  that  stops  everything  from  pouring  out  of  her.  sage  clears  her  throat,  fingertips  white  from  how  tight  she  holds  the  glass  in  her  hands.  "do  we  know  what  happened?"