sinksand

[sinksand]

cinna​:​​

when: idk…….. late but not too late! where: near the guestbook table!

Cinna does their best not to pry as they sign the guestbook. They doubt Fava and Hudson will have a use for it. Knowing Fava, she might even suggest throwing it up until Hudson finds a way to change her mind. They still sign it though, add a note about how happy they are before finishing it off with a simple C. 

Most people aren’t all that worried about adding their own well wishes to it, but Cinna has always thought it’s one of the few traditions they actually like. They are ready to walk away, but seeing Aven lurking around them makes them stop on their tracks. They think all of this must be hard on her. Being a widow is not an easy thing, but it must feel like a nightmare when you’re at a wedding.

“I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself tonight, Aven.“

There’s something about the old-fashioned guestbook that makes her want to take a peek.  Unfortunately, as it would take the whole night to finish even a single page on her own, Aven’s lingered enough for someone to notice and engage.  At least this person happened to be Cinna and not one of the more self-absorbed Capitolites; she quickly greets the stylist a good evening.

“Of course.  I’ve always loved weddings... and I’ve been enjoying these festivities especially.”  Despite everything, Aven still gets that warm feeling of hope at events like these.  She hopes that Fava and Hudson also look back on this night fondly, and that the memory shines bright amongst the darkness that’s inevitably ahead.  “I’m sure it must be just as exciting for you?  Seeing your kids celebrate their fulfilled love.”

[sinksand]

tag @deezeeashfrost​​ after deezee talks to diose!

Aven has made a considerable attempt to start mending... whatever is left with her relationship with Diose.  But she can’t deny the almost smug feeling that sneaks up on her when she spies Deezee confront the ever so impenetrable Valey heir.  It’s moments like these—which, not so incidentally, always end up being Deezee-related—that Aven finds herself living vicariously through someone else’s anger, feeling ever so childishly petty.

Aven makes her way towards Deezee now, pushing her way through the party goers and grabbing a drink for him along the way.  “That was... something.”  She reaches out to touch his arm briefly, an awkward show of solidarity.  “I can’t imagine she’s done something to set you off at a wedding?”  There’s a lot more she wants to ask, some overdue questions she’s remembering, but she supposes that can wait for after all these people stop staring.

[sinksand]

robyn gazel​:

WHO: aven rosesand ( @sinksand​ ) WHERE: approaching five’s table !! WHEN: some time during the middle of the night!

ROBYN HAS NEVER quite known what to call their relationship with Aven. The two of them had been brought together, amidst all odds ( Diose-shaped ones, in particular ), because of a certain commonality — the shared experience of a loved one, previously under the Capitol’s protection, being plucked out of existence without explanation, likely for the sole purpose of sending a message, of quelling any treasonous tendencies others of like mind may have had intentions to act on. They’ve talked over the years, conversing mostly in secret, taking part in each other’s fears and worries. A camaraderie of sorts. 

They have to wonder if any of that’s changed, now that Harbor’s returned. Robyn can’t explain just how much they wish that isn’t the case; at the end of the day, Harbor’s been tortured by the Capitol, likely has been for years since his disappearance, and the only reason why he’s back is so he be sent to his death in the Games. There are no two ways about it; as much as Robyn hates to think it, things aren’t looking good for him at all. Surely, Aven will understand. She has to.

They approach her now, casual in their stride, taking this opportunity to finally speak together after having neglected to for so long. When they stop in front of her, they give her a brief smile and a nod, before holding a hand out. “Care for a little dance, Aven?”

⠀

Aven looks up, slowly, from her third plate of cake.  It’s been a while since she’s heard that voice—which is to be expected, as she barely keeps in contact with most Capitol citizens outside of the game season.  What has Aven truly apprehensive is that this is Robyn Gazel.  If their past interactions are anything to go by...

“Of course,” says Aven, accepting Robyn’s outstretched hand and walking them over to the floor.  In the background, the strings swell, their melodies growing louder as Snow’s hidden orchestra goes through yet another set.  “Always nice to see you, Robyn.  I trust that... you and your family have been well?”

[sinksand]

digit copperforge​:

@sinksand

Avoiding the scant few friends she’s actually managed to keep over the years isn’t the greatest of feelings. Aven, in particular, has a way of bringing forth the guilt tenfold by sheer understanding alone. Digit is fairly sure if she that even if she left her at the top of a windowless tower for a couple decades only to return with no better excuse than ‘I forgot’, Aven would turn it straight back and ask how she’s doing. So there’s really no need to act as though she’s done anything wrong even if she maybe, possibly, potentially (definitely) has. 

Digit comes prepared, carting two of the most ridiculously Capitol drinks she could find. In lieu of a greeting, she holds one out to Aven. “Are you honestly expecting me to believe you came without at least a dozen fawning suitors?” She clicks her tongue, mock disapproval. “If you’d said something sooner, I’d have offered. You, me, our fine and feathered friend…”

⠀

Aven almost forgot how hard it is to keep from laughing whenever Digit Copperforge is around.  It’s all in vain, how she tries to keep her unbecoming reactions in, because she ends up snorting anyway.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” says Aven as she quickly takes one of the strange drinks from Digit.  She holds the flute up, a cheap attempt at hiding her smile.  “But you’re here now, so keep me company for a bit?”

In truth, she’s been curious—and, in typical Aven fashion, concerned—about how Digit has been doing for the past couple of weeks.  But unlike most years, Digit’s not exactly all on her own at Three anymore, a knowledge that surprisingly soothes most of her typical pre-Game season worries.

“Speaking of our fine and feathered friend...” Aven looks away from Digit to try to find one Swann Meture in the crowd. “How’d that happen?  I feel like I missed something there.”

[sinksand]

silverostro​:

She’s right, when it comes down to it. All of it is out of character. This, bringing up Thalia to hammer the point home. This is unprecedented for them, trying so hard is unprecedented for them; yes, there have been years in which they had put in more effort than usual, seeing a tribute’s chances slightly higher than they are most of the time in Three, but even then, it was never to this extent. Not even with Digit, they have to admit. That motivation hadn’t come until she had made it nearly to the end. Nothing about this year is normal, though. And there’s that familiar guilt for not doing all they could until the moment it suddenly became personal for all of them.

They wish they had an excuse, they do have plenty of excuses they could rattle off, but none of them are adequate. There is no excuse. All they can do now is try to be better, and try to put everyone into a position where it might be possible that the Games makes a statement against being forced to do all of this in the first place. “It probably is,” they hum, looking at her carefully. They don’t have to be past their difficult history to understand each other, and they can tell she knows exactly what they’re doing.

Aven says as much, with the way she finishes their sentence for them. They can see that understanding in the way she doesn’t look at them. Hesitation to put the thought out in the open. Good, they all need to be more careful than they have been. “Precisely,” Silver nods, before taking another sip of their tea for the sake of seeming casual. “A Quell alone isn’t enough to top last year’s show. We have to do all we can to do something bigger, as you said, we must be strategic. I’ve spoken to a few others, too. It seems most of us feel that way.”

⠀

HC: Silver shares that they’ve been talking to the other districts for alliances, then Aven admits that she’s been looking into all her old Capitol/Snow connections for sponsorships.  With their newly formed alliance they resolve to include each other in these schemes.  Every exchange is very polite and civil bar the occasional joking jab, which is just....... very uncharacteristic of their past interactions.  It’s an awkward start for sure.

[sinksand]

griffin cripes​:

THE FACT OF the matter is, Griffin wants to work with everybody. Or he’s trying to work with everybody. It’s been slow going, considering how preoccupied everyone understandably is with their own worries, but it’s a feat he likes to think should be more doable this year, considering what’s at stake. Everyone’s upset, and people are somehow a lot less equipped this year to fight than before; maybe they won’t even want to. He’s banking heavily on that second point.

Griffin only gives a short little laugh in response to Aven’s initial reactions, unsure what else to add to that. Yes, he wants to work with Five. Of course he would offer. The goal is to put up some kind of united front, isn’t it? He has to wonder who else has approached Aven about this.

“Kin and Darby. An engineer, and a nurse. Sounds solid.” He means that. Those are some particularly useful skills to have in an environment where anything could happen. It’s a lot more than he can say for some of the other Tributes, that’s for sure. “Need all the help we can get,” he adds, a little more quietly this time, looking somewhat distracted as he turns elsewhere. He’s briefly lost in thought before something occurs to him again, and he leans forward just the smallest bit, to lower his voice. “Anyone else spoken to you about joining forces?”

⠀

HC: An already awkward conversation gets even more uncomfortable when Aven reveals that she’s teaming up with Silver.  (Sorry Griffin........ Aven feels weird about it too but what can you do!!!)  Griffin takes note of it anyway, and to Aven’s relief he ultimately doesn’t retract the offer.  They part ways, both of them far more concerned with the Bigger Picture, deciding to at least temporarily look past the beef.

[sinksand]

perri honimoore​:

There’s a soft, tiny smile at her words. Not being aware until then how much she wanted to hear that. Especially because, not truly surprising her, she gets a feeling Aven is being genuine. Hoping she doesn’t sound like she’s merely repeating her words, Perri extends the same courtesy, meaning it. “So is ninth for you. For you both, of course.”

There’s an unexpected wave of relief the moment Aven agrees to keep her company, making Perri nod and, once more, smile softly. She can remember a time when the two of them would share more than small talk, more than coffee in silence. “Good, good. Let’s get going, then.” Perri says, pointing towards the elevator with her head, pressing the bottom for it to come once they’re there.

“Is going to Nine okay?” Perri asks, looking at her for a moment. She truly doesn’t know where else to go. In all honesty, and even though it’s been a while since they last interacted like that, she wasn’t in the mood to interact with other people. Perhaps, it could probably be good for the two of them to get that time alone. 

HC: Aven goes back with Perri to the ninth floor, where they small talk over some coffee.  It’s not as quiet as either of them expect, but the inevitable lulls in the conversation only make their current emotional distance more evident.  It’s a strange moment of mourning: for their estrangement, and for their loved ones who are being sent to their deaths.  They exchange platitudes over the latter; at the very least, they still understand each other enough to know that they do share a genuine concern and worry for The Kids.

[sinksand]

perri honimoore​:

Perri smiles politely, not truly having much to ask. She’s curious, of course, as to what could have happened in the training center that made Kin mention Sage over dinner. Part of her is scared, as well, being aware her child was experiencing things she wasn’t supposed to. And, just like her, Aven, and many, many others, Sage was being forced to grow up quickly. Way too quickly.

She appreciates the way she’s talking to her, casual. The last few years their interactions had been short, nothing compared to years prior. There was awkwardness, a tiny hint of tension, but she’s unsure if she can truly sense those things now. Of course, they’re there, but there’s also something more. Things weren’t like past years, at all.

“No… No, actually.” Perri answers, frowning lightly as she thinks about Kai. She has been thinking about them, of course. She has been thinking about them all. She has been working, planning, thinking… but Aven’s question grounds her, making her realize part of her was still not present. “I should try to find them soon, though…” she adds, nodding along.

“I was going to -” she stops, looking at Aven. “Would you mind going with me to grab some coffee?” she blinks, hoping the woman in front of her doesn’t find her offer too weird, too foreign. “We don’t even have to talk, but I think the company would do us some good.”

“Oh, I see.”  Has Aven made a misstep already?  She thought that mentioning Kai would be a good thing, that maybe it would even work as an effective ice breaker of sorts.  (Sorry, Kai.  Aven doesn’t mean to use their name as a crutch.  But let it be known that Aven has never been particularly talented at small talking Perri of all people.)  Nodding along, she adds, with no lack of sincerity, “The fifth floor is always open to you.  I’m sure Kai, as well as myself, would be happy to see you.”

As it turns out, she didn’t make a mistake at all—perhaps, she had done quite the opposite?  Whatever Aven had said in the past few moments, whatever she did differently that held a candle to all those years of leaving it at simple pleasantries... she’s ultimately glad that her awkward little heart got through.

Perri makes the request to go get coffee together, and Aven responds with an affirmative all too quickly.  “Yes, I would quite like that.  It’s... I’m always glad to sit with you.  Even in silence.”  Even when it gets awkward, even when the Games loom in front of their faces

[sinksand]

diose valey​:

“No, we can’t.“ She spent years wishing she could. The first months her anger was channeled onto Slate. He was the closest person to her and it was easy to blame him, to pretend that that particular year he hadn’t done his job right even if that couldn’t be any further from the truth. Then there is Kai, who didn’t do anything other than remind Diose of what she had lost with their presence. But at the end, the sole target of her bitterness ended up being Aven, the person who had his blood in her hands. It takes everything in her to not react. Diose just clenches her jaw and breathes in and out. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just acting out.“ She almost mentions her change of heart and mini breakdowns could be attributed to her upcoming death, but she is not trusting Aven with that. “Saints don’t exist in this rotten world. The only thing we have is people living their lives pretending they’re better than others. And of course I won’t do it again.“ She has nothing to gain anymore except letting her resentment grow. “There is no use, Aven. If I want to make peace with what happened, I need to stop thinking about what you did.

I need to stop thinking about what you did.  Is Diose afraid that Aven will do the same thing again, but to her this time?  That line of thinking doesn’t sound quite right; that apprehensive feeling only grows.  Her wary mind keeps turning over the words, which for some reason, slowly leads her to all these offhanded comments Deezee makes every now and then.  Maybe Aven has been a lot more oblivious and self-centered than she realizes.

Which is to say—perhaps the two women aren’t exactly on the same page anymore.  It was good while it lasted, as brief that moment was.  If Aven really wanted to understand, she should have asked about all this so many years ago.  As it stands, they’ve run out of time, and all they can really do now is at least establish a truce of sorts.  “I think it would be fair, even if you are just acting out.  Not saying that you are, but...”  Aven gestures at the note.  “After this I’ll... keep an eye out.  I’ll destroy this letter and won’t tell a soul about what you said.”

[sinksand]

silver ostro​:

It’s a risk, bringing up Thalia. There were times, years ago, in which the topic had felt just as charged between them, but for entirely different reasons. Aven has always been the one they felt most comfortable––which was still certianly not comfortable at all––talking about their single ally during their Games. She had known her, was the only insight they had access to about what Thalia’s life was like before they had led her to her death, almost like a little piece of what they liked to imagine Thalia would have been like had she survived, what she deserved. It’s perhaps not fair of them to bring her up now, when there’s so much distance between them, but Aven responds, and it’s clear they were correct to think she would understand them in this, like few others could. “As do I,” they admit, quietly, not trusting their voice enough for more than that.

They shift slightly, swallow, a certain sense of something unidentifiable at her words. Everything feels too hopeless to think this might be the beginning of a solution, but it’s impossible not to feel the importance and the weight of Aven even offering to speak with Kin about an alliance. It’s not hope, so much as it is a vague sort of relief, that perhaps this is a step in doing all they can before their own actions catch up with them, and they aren’t around to help Zero, yet alone help try to stop things altogether.  “Of course, nothing is truly certain, is it? But… I know Zero will appreciate it. I like to think perhaps it’s an alliance that could protect them both. And those around them, if they choose,” Silver says with a curt nod, before taking a sip of their tea at last, savoring the burning as they swallow.

“Oh yes, terribly cutthroat of me, grasping at any alliance I possibly can for my assistant,” they hum, wryly, raising an eyebrow at her joke. They know why she says it, of course, and it’s the same reason they respond how they do. It takes a second for them to place Five’s other tribute’s name. A woman not much older than them from the little they remember. “Darby, correct? Yes, of course, that would be extremely beneficial. The more we can get together, well…” Silver trails off, not wanting to admit they’re considering what message it might send if all of the tributes banded together, refused to kill each other.

⠀

To be fair, though?  If Silver had pulled this trick any sooner, Aven would have scoffed and ignored them from the get go.  But of course, Silver decides to bring up Thalia now.  After a season where two victors made it out, during a season where every mentor has something--someone--to lose.  Simply mentioning their shared past, their shared present, and arranging all these ideas in such a way that Aven can’t help but draw parallels... that’s brutal.

“Knowing you?  This really is terribly cutthroat.”  Aven waves a hand around vaguely, this time borrowing a Kai motion.  It’s quite the poor imitation of charisma.  “So much urgency.  Jokes aside... I just think that it’s worth noting.”

Jokes are half truths, after all.  And Aven wants to make another one, something like, the more the merrier.  Instead she sits in silence for a few more beats, staring back down at her cooling tea.  Still untouched, unmoved.  “Anything to improve their chances, right?”  She doesn’t want to specify who encompasses that particular their.  A part of her is afraid of what Silver would say if she does, but she tries to convey such a rebellious sentiment anyway.  “Anything to give a good show.  We’d have to... aim for something bigger, if we want to top last year’s.”

[sinksand]

[sinksand]

griffin cripes​:

IT’S AWKWARD, THAT much Griffin gathers. Painfully obvious to anyone watching ( The Capitol surveillance goons, maybe? Ha. ) that these two Mentors clearly haven’t spoken this way before. Likely because they haven’t really had much reason to. Five isn’t exactly outer district material, but Griffin isn’t sure just how much they’re considered inner district material either. Maybe they are, and maybe he just doesn’t know. Could just be a case of never having found the right time, place, or person in the district to be chummy with.

In a way, though, the awkwardness is grounding. The two of them are forced to be polite, to be civil and patient with each other, withholding judgment because they barely know one another, and it wouldn’t be right to lead by reputation or misconception. So Griffin nods, a little too mildly for someone like him, and says, “Yeah, Griffin works, sure.” This is so weird.

“I was actually going to ask you about working together,” he starts, jumping into business to do away with the rest of the formalities, and straightening up. “I’m sorry if this is a little — well. You’ve a sibling in the Games, right?” Forward, he knows. But why beat around the bush? “Mind telling me a bit about your Tributes?”

⠀

“You want to work with District Five?”  What Aven really means to ask is with me??? but she tries to play it cool, all casual.  Of course Griffin is here to talk about Game strategy, because what else is there to discuss?  Mentors can’t just sit idly as their tributes busy themselves with training.  Just trying and reaching out could bring the most unexpected of opportunities, ones much like this one, and Aven feels stupid for feeling so dejected not a few moments ago.

She laughs, such a short and dry sound.  “No need to apologize.  I’m... honored that you even offered, I suppose.”  Everyone surely has their eyes on Twelve’s tributes, and forming an alliance with them would improve her district’s odds exponentially.  Five alone—not even when paired with Three—can’t exactly win over the sponsors more invested in the ‘storyline’ of the Games.

What Five does have, however, is more of a tangible skillset.  “Yes, my sibling—they’re rather good with wires.  Stuff like reactors and generators.  Kin is a way better engineer than I’ll ever be.”  Aven feels something like pride warm her chest, even though a part of her knows that Kin’s brilliance is something only they can take credit for.  “Darby is a nurse, and she’s just as good at taking care of people, too.”

[sinksand]

It’s nice, knowing that there will always be a constant amidst all the chaos: Kai and her loyalty, always decidedly present.  Aven used to feel uneasy over how she never asks for anything in return for her kindness, but as the years went by Aven has realized that Kai is just acting the way friends are supposed to.

Aven gently tugs at the blanket.  Feels a bit silly to do a midday sleepover, considering that her own sibling is training just a few floors down.  Even so, Aven still finds herself wanting to indulge in such a thought.  “A bit tired,” she says.  When all that initial stress and confusion finally gives way, what exactly is there left, to feel?  “But I feel better knowing you’re here with me.  Somehow, we’ll make it through this year, too.”

@sinksand

More than ever, this year, all Kai wants is to shield Aven from it all. It would be stupid, though, to think that she could. All she can do is try to pretend things are all alright. Maybe that doesn’t help as much as she thinks, but isn’t trying what counts? It’s something like that. People say something like that. 

Aven has been her friend for so long, she’s seen the mentor go through so many things. Her victory, her marriage, how things ended, mentoring her own victors, all of it. And at the end of the day, there’s always them. That’s how it will be, Kai tells herself, that’s how it will always be. 

The tributes - it’s so strange to say that, especially with Kin, but Kai is trying to maintain a sense of normalcy, have gone to training, and now there is nothing to do but wait. She hates the waiting, but again, normalcy. She brews two cups of tea, grabs a blanket off her bed, and settles down next to her friend on the couch, offering her one of the mugs. “How’re you feeling?” She says, although the answer really can’t be anything good. Not now.

[sinksand]

diose valey​:

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?“ Diose can tell Aven feels bad, but it’s hard to ignore the bitterness that has been simmering inside of her for years. Does Aven actually know what she did? “Some things you can’t fix.” Unless Aven is a skilled necromancer, which Diose obviously doubts.

“At least you seem to be changing for the better.“ Diose can’t say if that’s the same case for her. Sometimes it feels like she is making genuine improvements, but people’s reluctance to believe in her or her own doubts prevent her from fully believing that she is capable of changing. “I should have… When Desmond died, I shouldn’t have used that against you.“

⠀

Would it be fair, to say that she’s sorry for letting it all happen in the first place?  For giving Desmond away, for marrying him, for winning the Games that made him fall in love with her. The way that question is framed makes Aven wary though; the cowardly, persisting part of her decides to address Diose’s other comment instead. “You’re right.  We can’t go back to change anything that happened.  Or anything that we felt.”

At least, that’s how she interprets the comment.  She doesn’t understand why Diose doesn’t seem to take her advice for herself.  “But is this not you changing for the better?  I—no one’s expecting you to be a saint.”  There’s a market for martyrs, sure, but not even the Capitol has a use for saints.  “Just... just say you won’t do it again.  And I will hold you to it.”

[sinksand]

perri honimoore​:

As bad as it still was, it doesn’t compare to the first morning. By now, both Sage and Holly know where to stand, what to expect and that, when they’re done, Perri will be right outside the doors. With that stated, they get the chance to talk as they wait for another day to commence. Right outside the training room, Nine tries not to touch the imminent. So they get distracted by a random conversation about Holly’s most recent dream, yet there’s quite not the excitement there’d be if things were different. Perri is aware of how much Sage likes to talk about and listen to others’ dreams.

But their little getaway gets interrupted once the doors open, and Perri is firm to stay there until they close. Both her and Sage needing that kind of reassurance. Taking a deep breath, she’s unsure of what to do next. Coffee sounds like the only ideal thing, and soon she’s ready to go back to her room to get away for a bit.

That’s when she feels someone about to bump into her, yet she’s quick to react and move to the side. “Aven,” Perri greets, a tiny cordial smile adorning her features. She has seen her around since their arrival, yet none of them had made efforts to meet. It’s only natural a coincidence is the one to bring them up together. “She has?” Perri asks, both brows raising in a curious expression. Breathing out, she smiles once more. It’s not bright at all, but she tries. 

“Thanks for the wishes. How are you doing?” Perri feels weird asking that question, being aware there’s no happy answer that could come out of it. Still, she wants to know - and is not asking just for the sake of asking. Even though everything, and after so long, Perri can’t just ignore Aven’s presence. Not hers. Not after having been so close back in the day.

Pop quiz: Did Kin really talk about Sage?  Well, yes, they did.  But see, it’s a trick question—Kin has indeed mentioned Sage over dinner, but only after Aven herself prompted them to.  Does it really matter in the end?  Aven would like to think it’s all semantics, so she keeps the details to herself and gives Perri another small smile back.  “Yes, just a little bit.  Nothing bad!  I can assure you that.”

Even so, there’s still a part of Aven that wishes that she had asked Kai to come with her today.  Not because she holds a Diose-level grudge against Perri, but because being alone with her here is still a bit... uncomfortable, but in the other direction?  She has no proper name for the feeling.  All she knows is that with Kai’s presence, there would still be a stronger excuse to keep talking, to hover around Perri’s orbit for a while longer.

“I’ve been... better.”  Aven tries to laugh.  All smooth, all casual.  “Been going around, talking to the other districts.”  Phrasing it like that makes it sound like Aven’s been outright ignoring Perri, which is not true—and also, not the actual person she’s been ignoring at all—so she tries to quickly amend it the only way she knows how.  “Has Kai come to talk to you too?”

[sinksand]

silver ostro​:

“No lecture, surprisingly enough,” Silver hums, with a slight shrug. It’s a strong first step that she lets them in at all, leads them to the dining area, asks them to sit, with tea, which they do. It’s more than they deserve, after so many years doing nothing to try to right the wrongs they’ve done, perceived and real, and even now they’re not quite sure they’re ready to drum up apologies, to figure out how to navigate something they can never truly make up for, no matter how their feelings have changed, how they’ve changed in the past year. 

They’re glad that Aven speaks first, as they’re suddenly having trouble knowing where to begin, when there’s so much to say, when the last time they had spoken they had both had hope, hope annihilated so easily, back to the same position as every year before, except worse, somehow, so much worse. When she uses their name, they can’t help but look up briefly, a little wide-eyed, fingers of one hand tapping against the warm cup of tea. A breath escapes their lips, and they look back down at the tea. “I’ve been thinking about Thalia, the past few days,” they start slowly.

In truth, Thalia is always there at the back of their mind, in their nightmares when they do manage to find sleep. But she’s been there more so since realizing the Games would go on, as they consider Zero, consider how to give him the best chance. How they had managed to get as far as they did in their own Games. They can’t help but flex their free hand instinctually, that familiar phantom sensation of electricity flowing through fingers, damaging. They wrap that hand around the cup, too, gripping a little too hard. Silver isn’t even certain it’s something Aven would consider, at least not from them, but it feels important that they do it, instead of Digit. A gesture to show her that what happened on the train was not just a fluke for them, that they meant what they said, what they were doing, even if none of it can be said outright safely anymore, here in the Capitol.

“I’d like to propose an alliance. Zero and Kin.”

There’s no lecture, sure, but Aven should have known better than to put her guard down. Because there it is—yet another name.  Names are stories and Thalia is nothing but a tragedy.  A tale of the literal girl next door, sent to die three years before Aven was reaped herself. At least, this is the version Aven has started to tell lest she starts pointing fingers at Silver all over again. She’s had enough of the Capitol revisionism. “I think of her all the time,” she says, uselessly. “But I believe... I understand what you’re trying to say.”

You can’t change the past, so change the future.  It’s already happened with the 74th.  Maybe it could happen again.  Taking inspiration from the 53rd has her nervous for Kin most especially, but it’s not like Aven has any other brilliant ideas.  And she did say that she would trust them, after all.  Aven was hopeful that their exchange on the train meant some kind of progress, but perhaps she needs to give them more credit: Silver is actually here.  She nods, stares down at her tea again.  “I can’t promise anything, but I will talk to Kin about it.  I doubt they’ll say no...”  She trails off, realizing she actually hopes Kin will agree to it.  Kin is no career in terms of strength and training, but pair them with someone like Zero and maybe the both of them will have a fighting chance.

She clears her throat. “Really playing the Game this time, are we?”  A very awkward attempt at a classic Digit.  Of course, she doesn’t mean the joke that way, not really.  But the avoxes moonlighting in the room make her uneasy, a constant reminder of what would happen if either of them so much as misspeak.  “Don’t you think having a medic in on this alliance would be even more beneficial?” She means to ask about Citron, too, Three’s elderly tribute who Aven struggled to watch during the rebroadcast.  It’s a suggestion that would make her hopes for this season a little too obvious, however, so she keeps it to herself for now.

[sinksand]

griffin cripes:

THE SECOND TRAINING day practically flies by without him noticing it. He has half a mind to ask himself how the hours have managed to escape him, but he knows the answer. ‘Course he does; he’s not entirely sober, no, but he’s not a complete idiot either. Spend a whole day locked in this tower, walking and talking for scraps of assistance, time just has its way of passing you by. Hasn’t exactly been easy getting ahold of other Mentors for alliances when they themselves have been moving about too, every which way, going from floor to floor to find other people to strike up alliances of their own with. So far, there’s Riggs and Perri, and he’s passed a message along for Emory through Hollis. He’d talked to Four about maybe getting Abe for security detail, and Blythe should be good with Seven. Plus, Diose’s pretty much ready to sponsor anyone that needs it.

So he hasn’t been useless, contrary to popular belief.

The alcohol’s dulled his senses a little, though, so hearing someone calling his name out briefly surprises him. He puts a fist on his chest, beating it once, twice, smack the shock away, before turning around to face… Aven Rosesand? Griffin tries to remember the Tributes from District Five. Doesn’t she have family in the Games too? “Rosesand,” he says. He isn’t slurring, which is good. Breath reeks of alcohol, though, but he can afford to put some distance between them. “I’m fine. I’m okay.” Walking slower than usual, but all good. “Don’t worry.” 

Wouldn’t hurt to add just one more name on the list, could it? “Listen. Aven — may I call you Aven? — are you, uhh… You busy right now?”

⠀

Aven has heard many things about the older victor from District 12.  Spare the kinder comments from the rare mutual connection, most of these anecdotes have detailed his not-so-healthy habits.  All that Capitol programming doesn’t help either, with every brief, pointed cut to him at Reapings proving some of those murmurs true.  But contrary to popular belief?  Griffin Cripes doesn’t seem to be particularly inebriated.  And is it really her business, anyway, to be judging over appearances?

“No?”  Aven coughs.  She knows, more than anything, what it means to have one’s reputation precede them.  The awkward (yet polite?) air is almost comforting.  “I mean, no, I’m not busy.  And yes, you may call me Aven.”

She tries to go for a friendly smile.  This is still the mentor that brought home two victors, after all.  All that gossip means nothing when you have something tangible to show otherwise.  Another familiar Capitol accent pipes up in her head; where did her manners go?

“May I call you Griffin as well?”   There’s a pause, though in Aven’s mind the beat stretches into an unpleasant eternity.  “Is there... something I can do for you?”