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[miller-brick]

While Mason had quickly let go of his suspicion, Smith was an entirely different story. Not that it came as a surprise. Still, by this point, Miller was hoping that his first brother would've become temperate enough to talk to him. After all, how was he supposed to help Smith if they couldn't even be in the same room for more than a minute?

His jaw clenched when Smith shoved past him, their shoulders colliding. A part of him--the one that was just as vindictive and proud as his brother--wished to respond in kind, to ignore and spite Smith in return. The other part knew he couldn't. They were running out of time.

"You need me," Miller said, matter-of-fact. He turned around to face his brother--or his brother's back. It didn't matter so long as Smith was listening. "I don't care what you think of me, what you think I did, but you need me. Even more later after launch. I can help you." Perhaps it wasn't the best start, but they were running out of time. Smith hadn't allowed them both anything but to cut to the chase.

@miller-brick location: tribute facility

Smith couldn't bear to look at him. They forced him out of Two, but a part of his father still followed him all the way to Capitol. Really, what a fucking coincidence that both of his brothers just so happened to be involved in the Games this time around. Did they plan this? Did they know? Smith wouldn't dare to imagine a thing from Mason, but Miller? Once so far removed and now Smith couldn't avoid him no matter how desperately he wanted to. He was sure that the guy was so up their father's ass that he would be happy to go along with whatever half-baked plan to make a son of his a victor. He'd felt no comfort having Miller there. No, his leering presence made it that much worse.

Just as he had gone the entire day without seeing him, Smith eyed his brother at the other end of the hall. Too embarrassed to turn the other way, he decided that it might be best to face him head-on. That he would make it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Miller. "Watch where you're going," he spat out, shoving him with his shoulder.

[miller-brick]

Ana had said something, earlier, about where she'd wanted to go. It wasn't anywhere new, wasn't anywhere they had never been. Still, right there and then, Miller couldn't remember. He merely kept them on the road, kept them moving only on autopilot, while the entirety of his mind was tuned in to what Ana said next. Stabilized by proteins. Pressure. Miller didn't know what that meant, but surely there was something to be inferred from it.

Both of his fists clenched imperceptibly, one on the steering wheel, the other holding Ana's. "No, it's-- Thank you. That couldn't have been easy." Ana had taken a great risk in delivering this. No matter how useful it would end up being, Miller was forever indebted to her, even if she might not see it that way. "Large amounts of pressure; what do you think that means? Something underground?" Figuring out what it meant was one thing. Figuring out how it could help Smith was another.

Ana took hold of Miller's hand, and she wasn't sure who she thought needed the comfort more. Sharing information about the Games like this wasn't done, it just wasn't. If anyone found out she'd be in serious trouble.

It was fine, it had to be fine. No one would find out. She barely knew anything important anyways. It would be fine. "The mutt cells are getting stabilized with high amounts of protein. They're getting made to withstand large amounts of pressure. That's all I know, I'm sorry."

[miller-brick]

Task #5: Deep Sea Creature

[miller-brick]

The response wasn't surprising. A part of him had hoped, however, that Mars wouldn't jump to the crux of the issue so quickly. Miller chuckled as he leaned back in his seat, playing nonchalance. "Always so serious. Come on now, Bellegarde." But of course, neither of them was stupid. Otherwise, they wouldn't be sitting here, with him petitioning them to do something downright seditious. "I'm not asking for anything outlandish," Miller tried again. And what I can offer you depends on what you can offer me. So, really, you get to decide how valuable this ends up being."

After taking a sip of his drink, he leaned forward, too, meeting Mars eye to eye. "I stand to benefit greatly if I place my bets right. I'm inviting you to benefit with me." As if that was all it was; the betting game it would have been had they not called Smith's name at the reaping. "Besides, the way I see it, it's all controlled risks. Nothing we can't mitigate together." Because if this went any further, they would have no choice but to keep each other's part in it a secret. Perhaps Mars would see that. Perhaps they could see him as an ally this way.

Mars ran a finger around the rim of the glass half full, listening to the whine and watched Miller before he presented the offer. They had turned down the offers in the past of a partnership mostly because of the financial comfort that the Capitol offered but there was also a part of them that enjoyed playing hard to get.

They gave a smile, giving a laugh as they lifted their glass for a drink, "Well, a lot of work has went into it, so I would hope it is going to be entertaining," They finish the rest of their drink in one as he server returned with the new order, leaving a moment later as Mars continued, "One thing can be certain: it will be bloody, twenty-three people dead, and one remaining, just like every other year."

Mars knew this isn't what he wanted to know, he wanted details. They leaned forward, speaking more quietly, "Miller, my friend, I can't give you much because I have a vested interest in keeping my life," they weren't clear if it meant that they would be fired or killed, but it wasn't much difference in Mars's eyes, "so, unless you somehow have something that is more valuable than my life, this will be a hard sell."

[miller-brick]

They had pulled away only a few yards from the lot before Ana spoke again. The news--or rather the mere prelude of some semblance of news--effectively filled the confined space of the car, leaving no room for any other subjects. It was a wonder Miller managed to maintain the speed he was driving at without lurching to a sudden stop. "What is it?" He cast Ana a sidelong glance before his eyes returned to the road. There were already about a hundred questions in his head, but which to ask next all depended on how Ana answered the first.

"How about that place we both like down by where all the stylists hang out?" Ana asked as she climbed into the car. She waited until Miller had started the vehicle back up and the engine had come to life before talking again. It would help cover their own voices, which she made sure to keep low. "I'm alright, promise. But I have something for you. To help Smith."

[miller-brick]

The tone shifted, with Mason relenting the way the boy almost always did. It made Miller feel a little guilty about his half-truth, though not enough to walk back and change his story. "Don't worry about it," he said offhandedly, responding to both the apology and the advice to tend to his bruises. Neither was as important as Mason agreeing to watch over Smith anyway.

Miller could tell that it was taking everything in his youngest brother to be brave about this, even just to put up that smile, so he certainly wasn't about to take it for granted. "If anything comes up you can always call me, but you've always been able to get through to him better that I can." It might not mean much since Smith hardly listened to anyone, but Mason was still their best bet.

Mason had felt horrible about his earlier assumption. At this point, it had sounded ridiculous. Of course Miller wouldn't actively plan against him and Smith with their father. .. Right? He shook the thoughts out of his head before focusing more on what his brother was saying. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He quickly apologized, letting out an embarrassed sigh. The rest of the story didn't make a lot of sense but he figured his brain was just fuzzy from everything going on and chose to believe his brother's words. "Well, just keep an eye on it. Probably would do good to throw some ice on it when you get home tonight." Mason suggested, though he knew he wasn't telling his brother anything he didn't already know.

The thought of Miller having to leave caused the younger boy to feel more panicked. He knew that Miller couldn't stay or wouldn't be around much, but hearing it made it even more real. Frankly, he was terrified and worried he wouldn't be able to handle things. Especially without his eldest brother's constant guidance. But, ultimately he knew he had no choice and needed to pull it together for Smith. There really was no other option. "Of course." He nodded his head, a small nervous smile across his face. "No need to worry, I got him."

[miller-brick]

The tapping had him blinking, returning to the present. It seemed he had zoned out for a moment. After unlocking the car, he reached across the seats to open the passenger door for Ana. "Where to?" Miller asked once Ana was inside, revealing that he in fact had nothing in mind, hardly knew what to do with himself. Perhaps that was why he was parked in front of her office without so much as a call beforehand. Fortunately enough, Ana did not seem to mind. The opposite really. "You alright?"

Ana had been doing her best to stay quiet and focused at work, trying to learn whatever she could to help Miller and in turn Smith. With the Games so close it was easier to pass off as a loyal and hard worker. Normally she never looked bigger picture if she could help it. Now she tried to catch any bit that she could.

Miller's text was a welcome break. They didn't often get lunch, especially not this close to the Games, but they were engaged. Fiance's were allowed such things.

"Miller!" She said, tapping on his window, "I'm here, let's go eat!"

[miller-brick]

@youthfulwynters

The days seemed to go by within the blink of an eye. With every passing day, the restlessness only doubled and tripled, no matter how much had been done to try to secure Smith's safety. There just wasn't enough time. There could never be enough time.

The interviews tonight would mark the end of the pre-arena festivities. After that, there would be even less that could be done.

It was around noon that Miller found himself in his car, parked in front of the gates of a laboratory complex. 'Wanna get lunch?' he sent the text to Ana. Another followed quickly, 'I'm out front.'

He didn't usually make a habit of loitering outside of her place of work and he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing there now. Perhaps he felt too restless to head home after the coffee he'd had with yet another fellow sponsor. More likely, the caffeine had little to do with the jitters.

[miller-brick]

He had practically forgotten about his face until Mason brought it up. "I was with Dad. And Mom," Miller admitted, though that was as far as he was going to admit. "Not fucking celebrating, alright? But I got here late because I had to sit down with them. This--" he vaguely gestured to his face "--is nothing. Just got into a little something on the train." That was the story he had decided on. With anyone else, he could probably add a 'you-should-see-the-other-guy' joke for good measure, get a laugh and a diversion out of it. He wasn't entirely sure why he was lying to Mason, though. Maybe he didn't want to escalate what had gone down any further. Or maybe he was just embarrassed.

"Look, I can't stay here for long." There was of course the Canvilles' party, which had become unmissable given what they and several others in attendance could do for Smith. That aside, Miller certainly couldn't stay long there in the living quarters of the facility, when wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. "And I can't be here all the time. I'll talk to him now, but I need your help to take care of him these few days, alright?" Perhaps it was unfair to ask this of Mason, but at least they didn't have to deal with an escort who was a stranger. "Can you do that for him?"

Not thinking about it wasn't a possibility. It was all Mason could think about the moment he heard his brother's name called. He wanted to stay positive, to think that his brother would be okay and make it out and everything would be okay.. But then the fear struck of being let down from getting his hopes. To feel the crash of high expectations. It was something he didn't think he would be able to handle. But the panic also wasn't a good feeling, either.

Mason just nodded his head. Keep their brother comfortable now and in the arena. Keep interactions light and positive while also working effectively and efficiently behind the scenes. "I will definitely try not to.." He said as he let out a small sigh, still in disbelief this all happening. But things felt under control for now, and Mason knew there wasn't much he could do now. At least not until he spoke with Smith, so he decided to change the subject. Mostly because the question was still lingering over Mason as he stared at Miller's bruised face. "So, if you weren't at home celebrating with dad.. what were you doing? Don't tell me you just tripped on the way here and got those bruises.."

[miller-brick]

Once again, it took him a little while to respond. Not because he doubted Ana. Not even because he was trying to think of the right thing to say next. Instead, he was wondering if he shouldn't be asking this of her at all, shouldn't be pulling her into questionable territory like this.

When he reminded himself of what was at stake, though, he knew he had to do all he could. In any case, Ana had already said yes.

Miller sighed, one hand leaving hers to brush her hair back. "I know. We'll be very, very careful about it." Was he trying to convince Ana or himself now? Miller leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you."

They could be discreet. They would be. Once again, Miller tried to brush off the uneasiness. He might even figure out a way to make it up to Ana somehow.

Anna thought very carefully. She knew the Capitol had ears everywhere within the Games system. In order to be helpful Anna would have to move quietly and carefully. Could she manage that? For Mil, for his brothers, she believed that she could.

"I'm not the highest ranked scientist," She apologized, "So I don't know how much help I'll be. Dad doesn't like it when I ask more pointed questions. Right now it's just base genetics to prepare for anything. But anything I can tell you, I will Mil. I will."

[miller-brick]

Once again, her reaction did not come as a surprise. Still, Miller couldn't bring himself to be direct with his ask, instead busied himself with plating the food as he thought about how to word it all correctly. There was a lot of risk here. Even if Ana agreed, they would have to be smart about it. After some more deliberation, Miller pulled out two chairs and took her hands as he invited her to sit.

"I know this isn't strictly--" legal "--allowed. And I also know you don't work directly with arena construction." He eyed Ana for a moment, trying to gauge her reception before he got to the 'but'. "But if there's anything at all you can tell me, anything at all about what my brother will face in there," Miller trailed off, thumbs slowly skimming back and forth over her hands. Ana would understand. He had to believe she would.

Ana didn't quite believe him. He was going through all the right motions of seeming fine, but that didn't make it true. Maybe it helped him to believe otherwise. She didn't want to push too hard, not right now. Smith had ended up in the arena and Ana knew it wasn't really by choice, and they both had to do everything they could to get him out in one piece.

Her eyebrows drew together and she couldn't help the slight frown that formed on her lips. He looked worried, didn't he know she'd do anything she could? Anything at all. This was his baby brother. "You can ask me anything, Mil. What is it? What do you need?"

[miller-brick]

Just like that, the anger and hurt from seconds earlier were shoved aside. Surprisingly, so was the urgency to strategise, momentarily replaced by the urge to soothe his brother's fears. "Don't think about that. Just--" But what could Miller truly say here? No matter the story they conjured, the sponsorship they secured, the backroom dealings they struck, no matter the work they all put into this, they still couldn't absolutely guarantee that Smith would be alright. The arena was an unpredictable place. Miller didn't need to have experienced it to know that.

"We do all we can and all we need to." He instinctively wanted to hold Mason again, but held his arms back this time. If it was only going to invoke the earlier reaction, if it was not going to offer the comfort it meant to, there was no point. "You don't speculate beyond that, alright? We just make sure Smith has all he needs, here and later in the arena." That was all he could allow himself to think about. That was all they could do.

Mason nodded his head nervously. He knew he had a role in this as well, and he was still trying to figure out if it was a good thing or not. Of course he wanted to be there for Smith and do all that he could to save him no matter what the situation may be. But on the other hand, what if he completely fails Smith? What if he does something wrong that causes Smith to die? The boy nervously wiped his palms on his pants, avoiding eye contact from his oldest brother. This was all too much for Mason and he wasn't even the one being sent into the arena.

He listened closely to Miller's story, remembering it all word for word to make sure he said the same as his brothers. Though he gulped softly, thinking back to the one or two people he had told the truth to. Surely they wouldn't say anything to anyone else. "I understand.." His voice was soft. "But what if this all goes bad? What are we going to do then?" Mason didn't want to think of the what-ifs, but it was too much for him to ignore. Smith dying was a possibility and that was something Mason needed to accept. Preferably sooner than later. "What if things are never okay again?" He asked, once again wiping his palms. For once, he couldn't be optimistic.

[miller-brick]

He nodded gratefully, though he hadn't doubted her in the first place. Ana was always kind--remarkably so. And supportive and sweet. She could be counted on where it mattered. There was also comfort in the fact that he didn't have to pretend here in their home. While he was telling everyone else that Smith's participation in the Games had always been planned, he didn't have to put up the same front with Ana. She would've known had that been the case.

Some things, however, were simply a force of habit. "I am," Miller insisted. He was fine. He wasn't the one going into the arena. "And he will." Nevertheless, Miller went to grab a couple of plates and cutleries from the cupboards while Ana set down the food. "I also have something else to ask you." Here, his voice finally grew uncertain. He hadn't quite imagined himself asking this of her and he wasn't sure how she'd react.

"There's nothing I can't get out of." Ana said, kissing his unbruised cheek before setting down the food. She noticed that he hadn't said anything at all about whether or not he'd had any food. Honestly he looked like he'd barely slept.

"I'll be there for dinner, at my most charming. But there's only so much charm I can put on if my fiance shows up looking like some sort of zombie." She said gently. "Eat something, babe. You're going to need to be at your best to make sure Smith gets everything he needs."

[miller-brick]

Task 3: Cosmos Persona

[miller-brick]

His thumb hit send on yet another text, confirming his attendance at yet another function. He needed to make sure he got to everyone, talked to every other sponsor, and locked their support for Smith. There were still a couple more on the list, but the ball was in their court now. For now, he left his phone in the bedroom and walked out to answer Ana's call.

It was getting late and it was true he hadn't eaten, but he didn't feel particularly hungry. Instead of saying any of it, he merely met Ana in the living room, placing one hand comfortably on her back, and turned back around to follow her into the dining room.

"You have anywhere to be tomorrow night?" Miller asked, breaking his silence once they'd reached the dining table. "The Cardews want us for dinner. I'm guessing Templesmith and the Vickers are going to be there, too." All of them major sponsors he needed to speak to.

where; their place, after the parade whomst; miller @miller-brick

Normally, Ana liked the tribute parade. The costumes and the grandeur of all it always dazzled her. Last year she had enjoyed trying to guess who Miller would support. This year, there wasn't any question. Everything about this year was different.

God, Smith. Watching someone she knew in the parade felt like a gut punch. Was this what the people in the Districts felt like every year? It hardly bore thinking about. But they'd all voted Smith in. Ana didn't know how Miller would ever be able to look at any of them again.

"Mil?" She called out as she entered the living room. "I brought you some food, you should eat."

[miller-brick]

Another round of refreshments was served. A singer took the stage, but his voice was soft enough that chatters now filled the room. People were moving about, shaking hands and kissing cheeks, bright smiles on their faces. For the first time, Miller didn't feel like he belonged. Not one other soul in there knew what the threat of losing a life to the Games felt like.

Not in that room, anyway. In an adjacent room, behind the stage, it might not be the same.

Miller exchanged a few more words with the Canvilles and their friends. Some of them expressed confidence and admiration in Smith, which Miller accepted with as much grace and pride as he could conjure. Not long after, he excused himself. Ever since the end of the dance performance, there had been a pull that called him to where Medea had disappeared to, and though he couldn't say what it was he was looking for, he eventually followed.

The crowds thinned considerably the further he moved towards the back. A long hallway later, he finally found her. Medea was still in her costume, easily recognisable even when she had her back to him. "Wasn't entirely sure that it was you," Miller called, voice much quieter than it had been in the main ballroom. "Though I do tend to remember the face of everyone who has broken my heart." He let out a soft chuckle, smile straining against the bruise on his cheek.

The spell broke and the dance continued. Gracefully spread arms and an artfully arched back later, the performance ended in a shower of applause. She lingered in this position for a second longer, feeling the delicious burn in her muscles that only ever came from over-exertion. Most of the time, the dance routines weren't the most ambitious. Medea welcomed a challenge. And, perhaps, this was more than just that.

Ever so slowly, ever so aware of the eyes on her, she very slowly rose from her rather acrobatic position. Gracious applause sounded from all around her and she fluently transitioned into bowing to her audience. It was a habit by now, going from an arched back to rising and bending right over to show her respects.

Never mind that those watching her ought to have been paying respects that they were even able to watch her up close. Never mind that she was a victor, someone who was worlds above the people in that room.

Yet again, she did not mind one particular person's eyes on her. Miller Brick... well, she was curious what he thought of her. Once someone deadly and inescapable. Now, a puppet on someone's string dancing for entertainment.

He joined in on the applause and Medea kept her bow a little lower, eyes cast upwards at his figure in curiosity. When she prepared to leave the stage, her gaze did not leave him. Medea hoped, however fleeting it may have been, that he would follow her, that he would strike up a conversation.

[miller-brick]

His grin lightened, turned yet a little cheekier. "That entirely depends on you and how you choose to perceive it." The switch in tone that followed was a little surprising. Despite having been mostly honest, perhaps he hadn't expected Medea to follow up on what he'd said and ask him this particular question. "I guess," Miller answered, a little noncommittally. He had been holding the fort for his family, had been doing his best to grow into his father's shoes, but did that really count as making the most of his supposed second chance at life? He didn't know. He hadn't made the space to think of it that way.

"I try to," he added. "Then again, I never got quite as close to death as you did." Medea; who had actually been in the arena, who had fought for her live and come out victorious, whose family apparently hadn't wanted to see her volunteer at all. "Are you looking to make the most of yours?"

A thought occurred to him then. "Speaking of. You're going back on the road, what, tomorrow morning?" Miller stood, this time leaving the bottle and the glass on the bench, and leaving the fire for one of the caretakers to put out. One hand was extended towards Medea, an offering should she choose to take it. "Let me show you a bit more of Two." He didn't know how she planned to make the most of her newfound life as a victor, but maybe he could help her make the most of her time here before her team would call her back to the dining room.

She snorted. "Your heart will be fine," she joking reassured him. The longer they spoke, the more she could feel herself easing up. Her practiced posture melted into something more comfortable, leaning against the back of the bench with her body angled towards Miller. The wine certainly helped - but even if they'd have had none, she agreed with him; it probably wouldn't have made a difference. Despite the slight edges she presented him with, the walls she had still undoubtedly put up, it didn't feel difficult to hold a conversation. Maybe if we ever meet again. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Medea hummed in understanding. "So you've come to terms with the thought of your death." More of a statement than a question. "It's dangerous," her voice softened, perhaps in the knowledge that she would say something he might not want to hear, "if that's the case. It doesn't much agree with the general enjoyment of life." Her index finger traced the rim of her glass. "Your second chance at life, are you making the most of it?"

"I do," she agreed. "My parents would've preferred I hadn't. They didn't understand why I did. My oldest brother didn't like it either, but his reasons were quite different." Bitterness stole into her tone again, heavy on her tongue mixed with the fruitiness of the wine. "No- I agree," she eventually conceded. "You're not half bad company, I'm sure that would be true without wine as well."