thistlethimble

[thistlethimble]

the tribute from district one smiled; razor sharp sort of thing that is was. the blades of thimble's fabric scissors came to mind. it was striking, honest, and surprisingly endearing. "iza." thimble tested the name on their tongue. iza of district one- not a career, but volunteer. so why were they involved in these games? what series of unfortunate events could not be circumnavigated and shackled them to such circumstances? was a comedy of errors not a tragedy?

"oh, I represent district 8, but I hail from little cove." thimble had no sense of loyalty to their district. it was not a means by which they identified at all, nor was it particularly what they considered home. home was their family, no matter where the location. districts were just demarcations imposed by the government in order to keep people separated anyway. "my name is thimble viridian rinaldi." they introduced themself with the same velvet warm tone their grandmother used when saying their name.

"I did not volunteer." thankfully, the one and only person who could be expected to volunteer on their behalf, couldn't. no one else did either. "I must be lucky." they chuckled. it was probably better this way. thimble was not sure they would cope well with guilt. at least this way, they could own the weight of their decisions alone. "why would you volunteer for something like this?"

iza's eyebrows raised, head tilting a fraction at the other tribute before a huff of laughter was torn from their throat. a tighty whitey bitch. a toothy grin stole across their face for a moment, as amused as it was dangerous, but it vanished quickly. "you're right," iza agreed. "i'd say reality is much less fun than picturing old cal in something frilly and barely- there, but he's actually someone i'd rather not hold that mental image of."

a part of them wanted to rebel at the moniker, but something deeper didn't react the way it might have if the word had come from anyone else. "that would be me," iza answered after a moment, giving a sardonic little curtsy. if there was a lamb from district one, it certainly wasn't satin. he was the lion in that equation, though iza was loathe to admit it. "but you can call me iza if that's too much of a mouthful."

their lips pursed, but they didn't bother to deny it. the career tributes had a reputation, to be sure, and iza didn't fit the physical metrics those that had come before had set. this ensemble they'd been adorned in certainly didn't do anything to distract from that. the question did catch them off guard, however, and their eyes drifted away to the wall for a moment. "i did," they answered levelly. "i'm afraid i haven't studied the other districts offerings yet. where do you hail from? are you a volunteer, too, or are you one of the lucky lottery winners?"

[thistlethimble]

"yes." thimble nodded. "or the degree to which stealing these particular pajamas is theoretically plausible, at least." to willie's credit, all appearances showed that she genuinely gave the inane musings thimble presented due thought instead of scoffing about it outright. it indicated, at the very least, a desire for humor. "oh, I have no context to make any sort of assumption regarding the protection of their rooms, but I think I could gauge the answer if I ask the right person in the know."

"well, I'm quite used to that. they don't call you a thief back home?" perhaps that distinction had more to do with being covey. thimble could not count how many times they were accused of pickpocketing or worse. they leaned in closer to willie, as if a grand secret or scheme was about to be revealed. "but as I'm planning a nightwear nabbing, it does seem apt in this exact moment."

Willie was trying. Or well, her version of trying was meandering around the gala, finding someone to chat with for a few moments, before teetering off to the next. Maybe if she looked like she was forming connections, it'd actually happen and work in her favor (what was that 2023 word for it? Oh yeah, manifesting!). She had taken Asena's advice, choosing to not overindulge and focus on the foods with nutrients rather than all of the sweets. She had one... two but decided that was probably what Asena wanted her to avoid.

"Oh, hm?" Willie asked, turning her head to the other. Another tribute, she recognized. "On stealing pajamas?" She followed up, brows knitting in confusion as she pondered the thought. "You don't think their rooms are heavily guarded? They might be smiling around us right now, but deep down they all think we're thieves and rats."

[thistlethimble]

thimble stopped eating. their forehead furrowed as both brows knit together in minor confusion. this happened sometimes. "oh, I've said something to upset you." they realized by how terse asena had become. so was being a contrarian their downfall afterall? or was it the vocal musing on their own hubris? was it the eye thing? or had they just wildly misconstrued what thimble had already said? was it all of it? now that seemed fairly probable. "I didn't intend to do that. sorry."

they set down the bowl they'd previously picked up from the table. "or come across like I know anything except for my own thoughts which admittedly, I speak rather freely. my people are performers by nature. words and poems, story and songs; those are our first language. so talking is really most of what I know how to do." they did not shrink away as they spoke. "but for the record: I don't, actually. know anything about these games, that is, and no one is really stepping in to teach me." which was fine. "but that's not your problem, and I don't know why I'm explaining it to you! I only meant to say that a party where everyone can see me seems like the right place to indulge and have fun. be likeable to a mass of people and not reveal the depths to which you are capable to any opponents. while training seemed like the right place to take myself seriously and learn without the blatant distraction of capitol frivolity. so consider this me just really trying to make the most of both!" the frustration was welling up in the pit of thimble's stomach. they really let a compliment go horribly off the rails somehow.

"terror stems from our desire to remain alive. it is an act of resistance against threat. to feel fear is to know that you want to survive. I think that life is made up of experiences; many of which can't be controlled." most of which could not be controlled, not with a government like this. "those experiences, both good and bad, weave together a tapestry of memory ingrained in you. your spirit. that is beautiful. joy. heartache. nostalgia. grief. love. terror. awe. wrath. anxiety. relief. expression is beautiful because it is human and to not recognize it as such is to live with blinders." they lost their appetite and turned their attention towards the dance floor with an escapists curiosity. "so if what I say bothers you so much, you need not talk to me."

the more thimble spoke the less asena enjoyed being in her company, but she knew how to keep the annoyance and exasperation from her features as she sipped at a pineapple mango juice she'd plucked from the table. it was too sweet, sickly and she set it back down in abandonment before sliding her gaze back to thimble. her speech sounded so formal, it made asena uncomfortable to a point, wasn't she from eight? was the education in eight somehow superior to that of seven, or was thimble trying too hard to impress? either way asena wasn't really a fan, but first impressions didn't solidify her opinions, there was plenty of time for thimble to be less .... unpleasant.

maybe she could warn thimble not to assume she knew better, not to make assumptions period but she didn't bother tonight. let the tributes try to find their footing, the real work would begin soon enough. one party, one night of mistakes and triumphs she wouldn't begrudge them that. "because you would know." she challenged anyway, raising an eyebrow, it was in her nature to be cold, to challenge and that much hadn't changed since her own games. asena had spent the last six years as a mentor, all of them living in the capitol, she felt old as thimble tried to assert herself as correct. "here is where all eyes are on you, behind closed doors at the tower is a different story." but let the kid think what she wanted, she'd learn.

she did not remember pigeonholing the girl, internally rolling her eyes at the comment. certain strategies relied on playing a very specific role in a narrative out of your control and if thimble thought that being contrary or well spoken or coming off intelligent would save her she was in for a rude awakening. asena had no issue appearing terrifying, she had said she'd thank her stylist if that was the effect. but the idea that terror was beautiful was an awful byproduct of the hunger games, of glorifying murder and exalting cruelty, it was an idea that meant, to asena, that someone had missed the point of the games and had bought in to the propaganda of them all at once. in any instance she tried to pull into her mind of people mentioning being afraid of something beautiful it left both sides of that equation with something unpleasant to deal with. take a poisonous flower for instance, it would be beautiful in order to draw prey in, to trick targets into a false sense of security only to snatch life and limb when the bait was taken. beautiful things also often projected a fragility of sorts, with the exception of birds of prey who were beautiful and strong. but strength was not the same as terror. those afraid of something beautiful, or someone usually, ended up envious and vindictive, punishing another for something they coveted and did not have. beauty was often a threat in the world that asena inhabited it, it was more often than not exploited until it disappeared. and it was also a crutch for so many, clearly asena had no positive associations with the idea, beauty was too often weaponized to be admired. no, terrifying beauty was not to be admired or strived for. she considered the tributes words, the order she'd placed them in. she'd asked if terror could be beautiful, not if beauty could be terrible. the distinction was important, because asena could not imagine a single scenario or being that was beautiful following terror. this was an idea that she imagined the president enjoyed, that terror was beautiful when it couldn't possibly be anything but. in that moment she thought darkly, she thought perhaps she should not help thimble because with ideas like that the child was dangerous. "in what way could terror be beautiful?" she was trying not to judge hastily, she was giving thimble the opportunity to come across less awful, she was throwing her a length of rope and thimble could either climb up or ...

but the next words out of thimble's mouth did not inspire confidence. that was the kind of thing she expected to hear from orion, or anyone else that attended the academy, or the careers. it was ambition without limit, which led only to arrogance and a longing for power so intense that it couldn't possibly be good. asena wondered how a girl from eight could think this way, but then she wondered if a life of deprivation and a lack of opportunity often lead to wanting so much more that you'd do anything to get it. this was the dangerous result of the hunger games, more kids like this. "no one person can ever be everything, but perhaps it is a boon to you to believe otherwise."

[thistlethimble]

ROMEO + JULIET 1996 | dir. Baz Luhrmann

[thistlethimble]

it wasn't that thimble could not be sympathetic to the situation as a whole, she was. her own brother's reaction still echoed somewhere behind her. thimble could not imagine watching someone you absolutely adore, someone you still think of as a kid even, being trod off like a lamb to slaughter. especially if you knew just precisely what horrors were in store. it wasn't fair. of course it wasn't. none of this was. however, it was what happened, and if they would not change it, they needed to make the best of it. "I would settle for some kind of mentorship if you're up for it." the words were tense, but with a genuine effort to not be unkind.

thimble inhaled, then exhaled. she took another bite of her muffin. "I am sorry that your brother was reaped." which was, without a doubt, true. "I will not kill him." thimble promised. it was the best that she could do under the circumstance. she could not promise to protect him, and she could not promise that he would win. what thimble could say with authority was that, she had no intention of ever attempting to hurt dae. "but I really do not want to die either, and I don't know what I'm doing. so I need some help. please help me."

everything since the reaping had been a blur. the way her body had convulsed at hearing dae's name called out, that stark and painful silence that had filled the square when no one had volunteered for him. hell, duri nearly wanted to jump out of her seat and do it herself, volunteer in his place and go back into the arena to stop this from happening. it was a mixture of shock and fear that had left her frozen in her seat. and since then, it was like sleepwalking through everything else. getting on the train, the food laid out, and then the overwhelming silence that had followed behind.

she was nearly startled into heart failure when thimble appeared. guilt sat heavy in her stomach. she'd never been the most hands on mentor to begin with, but since dae had gotten on the train with her toward the capitol, it felt almost impossible for her to focus any of her attention on them. "sorry." she managed to choke it out, shoving the plate that still sat in front of her away and leaning back in her chair. "what do you need?"

[thistlethimble]

"thank you. it is actually from an old ballad. my parents thought it suited our new district though. my name is really thimble viridian, but most people here just don't bother to call me all that." they gently over-explained. then pointed at a series of cups near the back of the table. it had a bubble on top that apparently had some form of smoke circling around inside and frost creeping up the stem of the glass. "then I would try that back there. I don't know what it is, and it might overwhelm you, but I've never had anything like it before. that's a pretty interesting experience by my measure. what district are you from?"

thimble smiled. they looked over him with some serious consideration. "you look like the sort who feeds stray cats, but insist they aren't yours. like when you give people hugs, it's really for them and not for you. like you are as out of place here as I feel." he seemed somewhat trustworthy. it would appear that was a rarity "peter? oh, I believe I quite like the name peter; the rock. it is a very old-fashioned name, isn't it?"

"thimble is quite an interesting name." peter had been around names all his life that made peter feel like something bland and boring. but he liked his name, there was something unique in the blandness of the simple thing that it was, and his abuela had always told him that peter had been the name of one of his great great many times back grandfathers, before the great war. he wasn't sure he really bought it, not even abuela was old enough to have retained those memories from all the way back when. "i suppose i was trying for the sake of experience, though i have to admit that i'm overwhelmed. there's sweet and savory and more spice on this table than i think i've ever seen in my life."

his eyes roamed the little table up and down, and he offered a shrug of his shoulders. "what type do i look like? i mean, i have to be curious after that description." his lips quirked up, the barest hint of a smile that was almost genuine. he couldn't stand the idea of being vicious, not physically. there was a reason his siblings handled the livestock back home and he played with a hammer and nails for a living. "peter. my name is peter."

[thistlethimble]

the lovers, the dreamers, & me.

[thistlethimble]

"well secretion discretion is the most important kind." thimble took the moment to appreciate the rhyming wordplay and giggled. a quick effort was made on her part to scooch over so that the towering figure had plenty of room to sit and even stretch out his legs if he liked. "who am I?" that was a loaded question. "hm." the real answer was probably hard to put into words, and it wasn't really what he wanted to know so she settled for just addressing the intention there instead. "I'm called thimble viridian rinaldi, and I am from little cove in district 8." she offered a hand as introduction, mimicking his own question like a mockingjay. "who are you?"

"leveled. ha." this time her laugh was deep and deprecating. "no. no, not really." it was quite the opposite, if anything. "I do not know how to not be in the moment. sometimes that means I'm bubbling with exuberance, sometimes I'm a mischievous little shit who wants to give into my first impulse, and sometimes I just talk in circles because it is easier to think out loud than organize my thoughts in my head, and it annoys everyone in the room. while sometimes I am lovely and bat my eyes and flirt, sometimes I'm irascible with pointed tricks up my sleeve. but right now, I am reflecting on this little respite... I just feel what I feel; wear each emotion like a new set of clothes. does that make any sense?" thimble sighed. frankly, she felt overwhelmed by herself lately. "it's not something I could level out even if I wanted to. oh, I'm babbling, aren't I?" she shook her head and looked back up at the sky again.

"I am trying to enjoy everything as much as I can, but it has been difficult, I guess. that's why I stopped here." the admission was earnest. quiet. "I could never see the stars at home. there was too much light, but I would sit on the roof or at a window and try for hours and hours." everything could change in a heartbeat. so why not try, right? "I thought you wouldn't be able to see them from here, but then I looked up. I mean, even if they're just projected twinkle lights to make people who live here feel better... aren't they pretty?"

oslo was surprised at the gentle voice beckoning from behind them. with raised brow, he turned around to size them up. he was silent for a long time, thrown off by their kindess. he had grown to know kindness as a suspicious act. "thank you for your discretion." he said slowly, sitting on the steps as well and slowly inching towards them. when oslo arrived by their side, having refused to watch the reapings, felt obligated to ask, "who are you then?" thimble's offer was accepted silently as oslo tilted his head up to gaze at the tiny specks, "are you this levelled, always?" it was curious to him. he often felt too much of one thing, and not enough of another. balance, unfortunately, didn't exist in many parts of his life. while staring upwards still, he felt compelled to ask them, "were you enjoying it? before the puking at least?"

[thistlethimble]

"no. actually, I don't wonder at all." thimble said with a forcefully nonchalant shrug of the shoulder. there was finally something venomous in the corner of her eye as it cut around the mansion to find the face of the very devil before he showed it. "that's a tighty whitey bitch if I ever saw one." in a blink, that moccasin spirit vanished and her blinding smile returned.

"you're the lamb from district one?" admittedly, after her own reaping thimble had not been paying much attention to the rest. she did try on the train to catch up on who the other tribute were, but all that information was a bit overwhelming to focus on for too long. She abandoned it altogether after the first few. the pictures and flat faces felt too foreign and sterile. however, that meant she did manage to vaguely recognized iza.

now that they stood in person, thimble took the opportunity to gauge the opponent for herself. "hm. you're a bit small to be a career, aren't you?" there was something terribly familiar about them, though. perhaps it was merely the circumstance they presently shared. "did you volunteer?"

ever since the reaping, iza's thoughts had been rather cyclical. mostly i'm going to fucking die and it'll probably be satin who kills me and occasionally well, who knows, maybe i'll get lucky. truth be told, their district partner tilted the odds heavily in iza's favor... all the way up until the final two, at which point said odds drastically and violently plummeted.

it was hard not to think about. sometimes, though, optimism came in the form of a fellow tribute... who would have thought? because eyeballing this one, as she rambled on about stealing the president's pajamas to what was most certainly a scantily- clad statue, iza suddenly felt a little better about their own capabilities.

"i think you should do it," iza nodded. "i mean, they might arrange for you to be the first to die in the games... but at least you'd mark your place in history as the tribute that stole the president's night- clothes. it makes you wonder what manner of garments he has tucked away in the back of his drawers, though, doesn't it? what sort of lingerie he favors."

[thistlethimble]

the music in the captiol sounded so different from what thimble typically heard playing in district 8, but then again, the melodies that haunted the air of little cove always stood out from the rest of the city. even so, thimble did not struggle to keep up with the unfamiliar driven beat and fast tempo of electronic bass, but it did make them miss the acoustic strings their brother played.

they were already uncomfortable to be dressed by someone else. thimble felt entirely out of their own skin to the point they needed to do something that felt more like them. so heel to toe, they danced in intricate steps across the floor until the sound of their full name dropping from a stranger's lips pulled their attention.

thimble was breathing heavily by the time they noticed it was kolya on the edge of the crowd and weaved with surprising dexterity through the bustling bodies to meet him. most people did not bother to use both names since before the reaping. it was endearing in some way. even the news cycle had mussed it up, but their escort had promised to 'fix' it... whatever that meant. "oh, hello kolya." they greeted with a smile. "are they? what are they saying then?"

it was not the first time that thimble had caused a stir with one of their ensembles, but it was without a doubt the first to be nationally broadcast which did seem significant in some way. it was a stylistic debut, and hopefully, it was going to work in her favor. thimble viridian wordlessly branded herself in one long, macabre catwalk. "I think the party is a mirage in the desert. are you one of the stylists? I don't recognize you."

who: kolya & thimble ( @thistlethimble ) where: the party of the decade(... maybe)

the parties this year, kolya had decided, were going to be all about homework.

research.

this was a far bigger pond than he was used to playing in-- and perhaps couldn't be considered a pond at all, anymore-- and it would behoove him to take notes. find out what he felt worked best for certain shapes and complexions, as well as what most certainly didn't; find out what fashions incited the most starstruck gazes and which invited the most tittering laughs behind raised hands.

at least it was a gorgeous venue for schooling.

he was constantly making notes, juggling more irons in the fire than he had hands, editing and fine-tuning sketches and jotting down vague concepts for later. oh, he made sure to mingle a little, too... that was one of the non-negotiable parts of this job. kolya didn't mind. he needed to put his face out there, after all, for it to be recognized.

it was with that line of thought in mind that he turned, and stopped short when he recognized a face.

it took a moment for the name to come to him. the district fluttered through his mind first, but he didn't feel bad about that-- surviving this world, he'd heard, was a fine balance of knowing what to remember and what not to remember and individuals fell under that last category.

"thimble viridian," kolya greeted, curving his way through the few bodies that separated them, the smile on his face wholly genuine. "in the flesh. and such a lovely name! district eight! everyone's talking about you, you know," kolya said. "not very loudly. but sometimes that's the best way to be spoken about. leaves an impression. i'm nikolai, but you can call me kolya if you want. what do you think of the party?"

[thistlethimble]

where; the train with; @districteightdurixx

it wasn't that thimble did not like duri or dae, she really didn't know them well enough to say one way or another. what she did know was that there was no chance they could be trusted, especially when it came down to whether or not thimble was going to survive these games. the inherent and unavoidable personal bias certainly felt unfair.

the table was still set with an assortment of breakfast fare and refreshments. an avox stood silently waiting in the corner while the mentor was seated. thimble plucked one of the muffins from a plate and took a bite. "are you done with your existential crisis yet or should I check back in after hair and makeup?"

[thistlethimble]

"oh, it would definitely be wiser, but great wisdom is not exactly what someone like myself would attribute to this particular venue, no?" thimble immediately picked up the little silver bowl. "and not to be a contrarian or anything, but I just think you've got it a bit backwards. here is the place of indulgence." they tossed one of the chocolate drops into their mouth and winked. "the tower is intended for substance."

thimble wanted to win. they believed it was entirely possible. however, they did not want to change who they were in order to do so. they could style themself to tell a story, but an earnest one. that being said, experiences interested them far more. they just wanted to feel, see, taste, smell, and do as much as possible which included the not so pleasant side effects of such debaucheries. still, they accepted the glass and took a sip before tossing a second piece of chocolate into their mouth.

"why must they be separate? can terror not be beautiful? is it not still the very depth of your emotion?" it was poignant. it was fundamental. it was passionate. that mattered. "pigeonholes narrow perspective." thimble took another sip of the water. "is it too much to want to be everything or to accept that you can be? hm."

the sight of this tribute was a little bit alarming, she looked overheated at best, certainly overwhelmed and probably just as undernourished as most of them. "it might be wiser for you to seek out something more substantial. but your choice, the table there with the pink shiny tablecloth is all dessert treats. but the small brown dots on that silver bowl towards the end are pure drops of chocolate. you can also request whatever you'd like back at the tower, they're happy to indulge you before the arena."

she wasn't sure sugar would help the girl but she strived to respect the desires and choices of the trigutes when she could. "do me a favor though and also drink this glass of water, slowly." she picked up an ice cold gold goblet from the table they were near and offered it to her, thimble she thought this one was. a name that brought to mind something small but not useless, something used for protection.

the next comments were actually kind of funny and asena rarely let herself laugh, especially at the tributes but a grin did break her concerned gaze. "terrifying, huh? i suppose i should thank my own stylist for that, though it's better for me to appear complacent and pretty at this particular event. maybe saving this makeup for the training is a better idea, do you think?" it wasn't a real question because the answer wouldn't change anything but she was trying to be polite. "i appreciate what i think was a compliment, try not to worry too much. speaking your mind is a powerful thing."

[thistlethimble]

[thistlethimble]

where; the gala with; open

"I think I could get away with stealing the president's pajamas." thimble declared after what appeared to be a genuine moment of reflection. they were standing in one of the hallways just outside the bulk of the party. "for no particular reason at all, I think if I could figure out which room is his, I could get into it. when I get into it, I can easily find them and then take them. who would think to stop me? why? what would they do if I got caught? kill me? seems a bit redundant, no? and frankly, quite petty over pajamas. besides, we all can extrapolate they don't want us to die yet, right? that's why they've got the whole energy field over the tribute center to prevent a hop, skip, and jump. so at worst, it looks like I would be punished extra during the games, and at that point... wouldn't it just be funny to have the president's pajamas?"

when there was no immediate response, nor even a reaction, at the somewhat outlandish statement, thimble narrowed both eyes. they lifted a finger and prodded the shoulder of the figure they'd been babbling to who appeared to be made of stone. "hm." that should probably be filed under embarrassing, but as the last two statues they tried to talk to turned out to be people, this seemed to track in the convoluted ways of the Capitol. they turned away and took a sip of the cup in their hand. "so apparently the marble I've been talking to for the last five minutes doesn't have an opinion on it. do you?"

[thistlethimble]

"yesf." the mumble struggled through a mouthful of food. held aloft in one hand thimble had what could only be described as gray stuff on a wafer thin cracker and in the other hand, a glass that was bubbling. they took a swig from it and attempted to swallow it all. "and a few other things, actually." which was to say, nearly everything at this point. "the only thing that was too sweet so far was something, uh, over there on that table that looked like beans. my judgment may be a little skewed though, because admittedly-" thimble took another bite. "I have a sweet toof."

"what do you like?" maybe thimble could point him in the right direction on what to try next. he was one of the other tributes. even if they had not remembered his face from the reaping footage and the train, the way he carried himself in this crowd was all too familiar. "or are you just trying for the sake of experience? although I guess some might prefer a few current experiences to be nice considering how many awful ones are coming... unless you're a vicious psychopath of some variety who would enjoy those, but you don't look like the type." they chuckled. "oh, m'thimble, by the way."

who: peter lopez & open where: party of the year

he felt off balance as he walked into the gala. people, capitol people, congratulated him. asked him about his outfit, which he certainly didn't know how to describe properly. asked if he was excited about the games and his chances, which he could only answer with a tight lipped smile and mentions of hope and luck. he hated it here. he hated these people, but he couldn't be hostile or outright rude, lest he fall into the traps that seemed to be set for himself and the other tributes everywhere.

food was always safe. he wandered the long table, not sure what to pick up, not sure he had seen so much food before. his stomach rumbled embarrassingly, and he reached out to carefully pick something up from a tray, something bright yellow and fluffy. sniffed it. put the whole thing in his mouth and chewed slowly with a hand covering his lips. "that was... oddly refreshing. i almost expected it to be too sweet. have you tried it yet?" eyes lifted, turned toward the person who had siddled up beside him with a small, strained smile.

[thistlethimble]

"oh, well that's okay." thimble assured him gently from their seated position on a step then pointed to a bush on the other side. "I hurled in that one like twenty minutes ago, but that's between you and me now, right? it's going to be our new spew buddy secret, because it's not a cute look for us." eating everything on the craft table was, in fact, impossible to do, but damn it all if thimble had not given it an earnest try.

they glanced over their shoulder towards the party. why had they decided not to go back yet? the festivities had been enjoyable enough before their stomach turned. well, enjoyable to the extent that anyone can enjoy an impending murder carnival. "I don't love being pigeonholed to one or the other, actually." thimble decided. "I wanted to look at the stars. care to join and cool off from all the absolutely normal and not at all pukey behavior?"

𝐖𝐇𝐎: oslo copperhead & open 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: obliterated giant at a party 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: uncy's mansion!!!

something about the tribute gala felt so sickening. like they were plumping up livestock for the slaughter. oslo was unable to escape the reality that in a few short weeks, most of the fresh faces around him would be airlifted from the arena. throughout the night, he nursed at least one drink, sometimes two. the only way he was going to survive this evening was to cave into absolute belligerence.

the clock ticked past twelve and the gala was still raging as oslo stumbled into the backyard, stomach gurgling as he gripped the railing of the extravagant staircase as he emptied his stomach into the bushes. sweating and gasping for air, he turned around to feel the cool night on his face. he swiped the hair from his forehead and apologized to the figure that was stepping down beside him, "my apologies, how unbecoming." oslo recovered quickly, rising away from the banister and approaching, "are you enjoying the event or trying to make a quick getaway"

[thistlethimble]

thimble had never been the sort to sit idly on the sidelines and watch the world pass her by. she was far more the sort to skirt through the most bustling parts of the city at midday to take in every face, story, and sensation that could be experienced. that was the very inspiration that breathed life into her. excitement sustained her. that being said, she had largely ignored the networking process that mostly took place on the outskirts of the event in favor of the unlimited provided drinks and live music.

her face was red, sweat glistened on her brow, and her eyes were glossy and round. a bright smile burned as thimble finally took a break to search around for something to eat. she wanted something sweet, but what was sweet? most of the food on the refreshment table was unfamiliar to her. "hm?" thimble glanced up as a rather intimidating presence approached. "me? no, no. I'm sorted, but can you tell me what here will taste most like chocolate?"

as the visual finally processed, thimble did a double take. it was one of the other district's mentors. at the present moment, she couldn't quite recall which one. "woah. your eyes are beautiful... and terrifying. I mean-" the whole bottom row of teeth were visible as she grimaced. that probably sounded rude. was it horribly rude to talk about that sort of thing? it did seem in poor taste. "not in a bad way, though."

𝐖𝐇𝐎: asena mavi & open 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: the tribute gala 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: president's mansion

networking was most of the point of this event, it was the part asena had to work at the most, even if some thought she was a natural. the strain never showed on her face, usually but as the years went on she was losing her desire to control her face, her tone, her words. this year she was just as lovely as usual but her words felt more clipped and biting, her tone soft but strong as ever, beautiful but unattainable and unreachable. when it wasn't the capitol elite she was playing this game with she could come across as haughty or arrogant, like she thought herself above the people she worked with and for. but for asena it was never so cold, she simply didn't trust anyone and offered no piece of herself to anyone because of it. most of the capitol fools couldn't tell the difference and she was happy to keep it that way.

pulled into conversation with more figureheads and actresses and sponsors, she plasters a serene smile on her lips that doesn't reach her eyes, shrewd as ever. they speak of nothing of importance, they bet on human lives and drink and eat to excess. all of it crawls beneath asena's skin and settles there like a disease, and not for the first time she wonders if she should leave the capitol and go back to seven, a home that never felt like home. would it be worse than being near this lot? would it feel just as foreign, was she doomed to be a ghost floating aimlessly through this life. she wanted to detach from this group, beginning to pull away when she called back a final answer to a stupid question asked of her. "yes cyril, if i could bet i'd always bet on my own tributes." it didn't matter if it wasn't necessarily true.

she strolled to a smaller refreshment table further from the crowd, she stayed sober at this event but the juices offered were flavorful and refreshing enough for her to seek them out. she noticed another eyeing the drinks and offered her knowledge. "non-alcholic, if you'd prefer."